The run at Ironman Wales is 4 laps. You run up the hill out
of Tenby, you turn, you run back down the hill, and then you run around the spectator-lined,
noisy streets of Tenby, and then you repeat that 4 times. I don’t mind running
laps, but the lack of flat is tough. I tend to go well on flatter courses where
I can get into a rhythm and just keep going. At Wales, on the bike, and on the
run, and even on the swim, it’s difficult to maintain any kind of rhythm.
On the marathon, running up the hill is tough and
energy-sapping, and running down the hill is also tough on the legs. The
downhills aren’t gentle enough to be nice to run down. They are quite steep and
your joints and muscles take a pounding. There are a lot of twists and turns,
especially running through the town.
Leaving T1, I was carrying a small plastic bag. This contained
my Garmin watch, my visor, an energy gel, a small bottle of Coke and a larger
bottle of water. I thought that I could get all of these things sorted out
while running, rather than wasting time in T2.
The first thing I did when I started running was try to get
my Garmin up and running. This is important as it then gives you an indication
of your pace, and helps you avoid starting off too fast. It turned on OK, and
it locked onto the satellite reception OK. But the screen that it showed after
it had found satellite reception wasn’t the screen I was expecting. This threw
me a little bit, and I fiddled with it for a few minutes, trying to get the
screen I wanted. I couldn’t get what I wanted, so I decided to turn it off and
re-start it.
I hadn’t yet put it on my wrist as I was carrying the
plastic bag, so I shoved it in my back pocket. I then put on my visor, and had
a gulp of Coke. I put the gel in my back pocket, and grabbed the water bottle.
The plastic bag was empty so I put it in the back pocket too. Then I went back
to trying to get the watch to work.
By now I was maybe 5 minutes into the run, and I had already
passed a couple of people. I was heading out of town and onto the hill. I
wondered if I had started off too quick, and I didn’t have my pace displayed on
my Garmin to tell me to hold back. I restarted the Garmin and after it had
logged onto the satellites, I finally got the screen I wanted. I don’t know
what happened the first time round. I then passed an aid station and ditched
the plastic bag. Now I felt I was properly on my way.
Leaving Tenby on lap 1
There were very few people on the run course at this stage.
I made it to the turn at the top of the hill feeling good. It had only taken
about 20 minutes to get there. I tried to break it down in my head. 3 more
20-minute climbs, a few downhills and a few laps of Tenby. Should be fine… At
the top of the hill I grabbed my first armband, signifying my first lap. 3 more
to collect… On the way back down the hill, I passed my support crew and they
told me that I was 8th in my age group. I didn’t hear it properly. 9th?
No, 8th! 8th? Yep, 8th! Yikes, that’s not bad.
I only need a couple more places…
I ran back down into town, and took regular sips from my
water bottle. I poured some of it over my head. It was getting warm. The support
in town was brilliant. I felt good. My feet felt good. Usually on an Ironman marathon
my feet feel awful. I set off back up the hill, and on the steepest part, just
after leaving town, I had a planned power-walk. These help, as they give some
brief respite from the toughest part of the hill, they help to bring the heart
rate down, and they help to give the legs a little bit of recovery time. Going
up the steepest sections while powerwalking isn’t much slower than trying to
run up them. So you gain a lot and don’t lose much.
I got to the top of the hill OK, made the turn, grabbed my
second armband, and headed back down. I passed the support crew again but wasn’t
in much shape to give them much more of a passing glance. I knew I had passed
at least two more people in my age group. I knew I was 6th. I was
there or thereabouts for Kona. 5th would guarantee it. 6th
would have a good chance. I made it back into the town. Half distance. Only
13.1 miles to go. I had got to halfway in 1:40. If I could hold my pace, I’d do
a 3:20 marathon. That would give me a chance…
But the second half of an Ironman
marathon is an ugly thing. I started to struggle. It all seemed to happen at once. My
stomach started churning. My left knee (perversely not my right knee) starting
getting sore. My pace slowed. I couldn’t pick it up. The third time up the hill
was a nightmare. I made an emergency port-a-loo stop, thinking I would feel
better afterwards. I didn’t. My stomach continued to rumble and grumble and
churn ominously, threatening to eject its contents in two directions. My knee
was sore and not letting me stride out. I was walking through the aid stations
and taking ages to get going again. I had another port-a-loo stop. This was bad
news. One stop is acceptable, but two is bad news.
I struggled down the hill and into town. Any incline now
seemed mountainous. The course was getting busier now as more people got off
their bikes. I was getting passed by people. It was difficult to work out who I
was actually racing, because some people were on lap 1, some were on lap 2,
some on lap 3 and some on their final laps. Although it didn’t actually matter
who I was racing any more, as there was nothing I could do to run any faster.
My body wasn’t allowing it. My pace was nowhere. It’s an awful feeling. Out of
nowhere, somewhere in Tenby, my dad appeared beside me, jogging alongside for
maybe 100 metres. He was in better shape than me at this point, and he must
have realised it. “How do you feel?” “I feel awful, it’s gone…” Or words to
that effect. “One more lap to go, keep going…” The first lap was fine. This one
won’t be fine.
I had another toilet stop on the way up the hill, preceded
by a half-mile waddle to get there without exploding. Bye-bye Kona. I kept
trying to get back to normal pace, and I just couldn’t. I literally couldn’t. It
was really pathetic. My knee wasn’t liking this at all. By now, both knees had
become sore. My stomach would not calm down. Maybe I ate too much on the bike.
Maybe I drank too much Coke too soon on the run. Urgh. I picked up my final
armband. I passed an athlete collapsed on the ground, being tended to by the
first aiders. People were struggling. It was hot. So many people were walking. An
ambulance went past.
I made it to the bottom of the hill and ran around Tenby for
the last time. I was going to finish in around 10:50 or so. Worse than last
year. No chance of Kona. I got to the finishing chute on the Esplanade and onto
the red carpet. It was packed. Everyone was cheering. I wasn’t interested. I
was happy that it was over and that there would be no more horrible gels or
energy drink, and that my knees would have to do no more, and that my stomach
would get a chance to calm down. But ultimately I was disappointed again as I
crossed the line. No joy. End of story.
Approaching the finish chute on the Esplanade in Tenby
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