Saturday, October 25, 2014

Post 53 - Guest blogger this time...

This week's blog is a guest blog. My mum and dad were at Ironman UK and Ironman Wales this year. Ironman UK wasn't a great event for them to make their Ironman spectating debut: it's a tough logistical challenge, for athletes and spectators alike. But, worse, I was a complete mess at Ironman UK: just out of hospital, not recovered from those horrendous leg infections, and with hindsight, I was in no condition to even be attempting an Ironman, never mind thinking about qualifying for the world championships. 

Mum and Dad both really enjoyed Ironman Wales though, even though my result was disappointing. We had such good weather in Wales, there's a great atmosphere in the race hub of Tenby, it's a genuinely nice place, and I managed to finish (albeit not in a Kona qualifying position). But more than anything, they really enjoyed the company and the banter with my "support crew" who were in Tenby.

Anyway, I asked my dad if he would write a few words about Ironman Wales, and he duly obliged. Without him, I probably wouldn't have had such an interest in cycling and running. I've got my mum to thank for the swimming side of things. Thanks to the both of them, myself and my brothers are fit, active and healthy, and I'm very grateful for that.

Dad ran a few marathons when I was very young, and he was no slouch. He also bought a Raleigh Banana road bike when I was young, and I thought it was the most amazing thing. It still hangs in the garage at home. It could probably be classed as an antique by now! Dad now has his pick of two of my bikes that I've still got at home. There's nothing better than being at home and getting out for a spin on the bike with him. He can still push the pedals rightly. I also remember watching the Tour de France with dad, in the days of Stephen Roche and Miguel Indurain. Ages ago now, but very vividly remembered. "Go on ya boy ye", to Stephen Roche in 1987...

Dad is retired now and is currently in Kenya, doing voluntary work in a school in a small village in the middle of nowhere. I saw him at Heathrow before he flew off:



He wrote the following piece:


It is amazing how perception and reality can differ.  Sometimes the difference is small, sometimes it is a chasm.  As the plane gently descended to land at Bristol airport, Eileen grabbed my arm in anticipation of the bump on landing.  The landscape was rolling and hilly, not the flattish plainscape I had imagined being so close to the Bristol Channel.

Needless to say, this was our first trip to South Wales.  I knew South Wales from Geography classes many moons ago as a region of heavy industry, conjuring up images of pit heads, black-faced miners, industrial stacks, smoke, steam and red-brick factories.  It wasn’t like this at all.  The drive west along the M4 was a lovely, relaxed one through lush, green, wooded countryside.  The Port Talbot steel plant provided the only glimpse of my “old” South Wales.  Nor was there any sight of the black-faced miners, slag heaps or narrow-gauge railways as we passed the rolling hills of the Brecon Beacons, underneath which nestled the Rhondda Valley.

Our destination!  Tenby – a hundred plus miles to the west and the venue for the Ironman Wales 2014 event.  Our interest!  The participation of a former globe-trotting, all-round sportsman, Ironman, and “nothing better to do with his time” son, John.  John had assured us that this was a “really nice place” and a great venue for the event as all three stages pass through the town, making it ideal for spectators.  We were not to be disappointed on either count.  What he didn’t say was that the Tenby Ironman event is arguably the most demanding and challenging of the global Ironman series, a fact that became increasingly evident as we became more familiar with the locality.  The swim is in the chilled and choppy sea; the cycle ride is a roller-coaster of hills; and the marathon – well, what can I say!

John had the good fortune to be accompanied by a “loyal band of follower friends” whose company we had the great pleasure to be in during our stay – Elise, Natalie, Steve and Matt, all “veteran” Ironman attendants. 

Anxious to find the best spots to watch the various stages, we sought John's knowledgeable advice.  Knowledgeable because he had completed the Ironman Wales 2013 event, and was just “pipped” into sixth place where only five qualified for the World Championships.  Still, back for a second “bash” with the hope – the hope that there is no kick in the face during the swim scrum, no mechanical failures out on the bike, and no human “accidents” on the run; the expectation – the expectation that the endless hours of training pay off, that the body endures, that the mental focus stays strong; the confidence – the confidence that you have prepared well and you will succeed.  Now it is all down to performance “on the day”. 
 
John pointed out the best spectator locations and after a few quick calculations, literally on the back of a café table mat, exacted, “I’ll be past you on the first circuit at 11.40am”, referring to the cycle. Not in the least surprised at the precision and confidence of his exact, I made a mental note.

The morning sky at 6.30am was a spectacular hew of reds, oranges and light blues as the sun peeped above the horizon.  The scene masked the challenging sea conditions below our vantage point where a 2000+ speckled mass of green swim-hatted heads assembled for the swim.  Unknown to us the organisers had been monitoring the difficult sea conditions right up to the 7am start, and the swim had been in doubt right up to the last minute, such were the conditions.  We later learned that something like 80 swimmers had to be taken out of the water at some stage in the swim.

Out of the water and into his run to the bike transition John, looking good, passed us in sixty four minutes, now stripped to the waist and taking on liquid.  “He’ll be pleased with that”, I reassured Eileen, having seen the sea conditions.

By now the spectators had swollen to a mass strung out along the whole of the route, offering great vocal and visual support, support that lifted the athletes throughout the day.  John later remarked that “it’s just brilliant seeing someone you know along the course”.

With a few hours to pass as John launched out into the Pembrokeshire countryside on his first of two cycle laps, we had a few hours to enjoy in Tenby.  It has real charm, a tangible sense of history and a quaintness that endears.  It consumed our time effortlessly and in a blink we were on our way to the cycle vantage point, a mere fifteen-minute walk.  Remembering the precision of John’s prediction, we arrived in good time, found a good vantage point and put the camera in sports mode and standby – all ready!  The first of the cyclists were passing – these were the pros and élites.  “Sixteen, seventeen”, I counted.  “It’s 11.30am”, Eileen remarked nervously.  “Where is he?”  I reminded her of John’s prediction adding, “He’s not superman”.  “Thirty one, thirty two, 11.35am”.  Eileen was now hopping from one foot to the other.  “Thirty five, 11.40”.  “Something has happened to him!”  “No, he’ll be here”, I reassured her.  At 11.42am precisely he appeared on the bend approaching, his bright green gear and multi-coloured knee straps immediately recognisable.  Eileen waved and yelled frantically.  I shot the camera with one eye while trying to watch with the other.  He saw us in good time, smiled, waved, thumb up, flying.  Past in a flash!

By now there was a real carnival atmosphere throughout the town and we enjoyed the ambience, the buzz and the sense of excitement.  Elise, Natalie, Steve and Matt had taken to their own bikes and gone out to a castle on the countryside part of the route, about fifteen miles away.  It was ideal weather for such a spin, but with the sun now a feature of the day and the temperature rising, you couldn’t but think of the increasing impact on the athletes.

John passed us at the end of his cycle well within his margins, looking good and looking fresh.  A good transition and he was back out past us to start the marathon. This is where stamina, endurance and mental strength marks out the Ironman athlete like no other.  The route takes the athletes through the centre of the town on four occasions. A lapped course that demands the most careful of pacing – it isn’t about who runs quickest at this stage, it is about who slows down the least, was how John explained it.

Looking good on the first two circuits, he would have known that he was up there with the leaders.  The circuits allow accurate timing of each lap, and on the third it was evident that his awareness of “slowing down the least” was working to his disadvantage.  This section of the course where we were located was along a long steady incline – gruelling, energy-sapping and compounded on each lap.  A close-up camera shot revealed the strain and effort etched on his face.  He wasn’t alone in this regard – everyone was in the same boat.

We waited in anticipation along the finishing straight and clipped his hand in a high-five as he went past us, fresher looking than before.  He was glad to see us and his "support crew", glad to be finished.

Later, at around 11.45pm, the admiration for those still finishing before the midnight deadline was reflected in the crowd still present, amazed at their seventeen-hour endurance.  For the pros and élites, motivated by professional status, personal bests and World Championship qualifying times, the margins are small.  But, like perception and reality, such small margins can be a chasm.

Eileen and I ended our trip to Tenby in the company of good friends that evening.  And when all is said and done it is good friends that endure.

Sunday, October 19, 2014

Post 52 - Italy and Kona

My Twitter account, follow me if you’re interested… https://twitter.com/Tri4Kona2014

I haven’t blogged for a couple of weeks. What’s been going on? Well, I’ve eased back into a bit of training. Not crazy-intensity, non-compromising, really tough stuff, but some slightly easier swims, bikes and runs. I want to get through the winter and get through Christmas having built up a good base, so that I have a good platform to build on when the proper training starts in January. I want to build this good base, but equally I want to make sure that I stay fresh, don’t injure myself, and don’t put too much stress on my body so I don’t pick up any stupid winter illnesses. Then I want to be ready to get back into the tough stuff after Christmas, having had a good winter.

I’ve also spent another week in Italy with work. I didn’t feel too good in Italy. I ate a pizza on the first night, and it was a bit dirty – covered in oil and spicy (dodgy?) meat of some sort. It really didn’t agree with me, and really upset my stomach for the rest of the trip. From this came a sore head from the dehydration.

I generally eat a good diet. Even though in the past few weeks since Wales I’ve eaten some junk food, I have never eaten anything horribly bad or processed, like kebabs or McDonald’s or chips. I’ve always had access to fruit and vegetables and I eat broccoli, spinach, kale, cabbage apples, oranges, bananas, pears and ginger every day. When I went to Italy, to a degree I lost this control and there was very little access to fruit and vegetables. My diet was quite poor in Italy and this made me feel quite rough. I also didn’t sleep very well as the hotel was noisy, freezing, and the bed was so hard it was like sleeping on a tiled floor.

So I wasn’t a very happy piglet in Italy, and if I’m going to compete again next summer, and really have a crack at a top-end position (I’m thinking if not actually win my age group and the amateur race, then at least try and podium in my age group, and finally hopefully get my Kona ticket), then I am going to have to work something out with regards to sudden and frequent travel – at the moment this is my biggest obstacle, or challenge.

I’m spending a lot of time thinking about how I can improve every single thing I do to maximise my chances of qualifying next year. I’ve been thinking about my training, diet, equipment, care of my body, massage, recovery and so on, in an effort to maximise my returns with the circumstances, time (and money) I have available. The margins are very tight, as I’ve learned. One little thing going wrong can have a huge effect. But I keep thinking that there’s so much I can’t control, and these business trips, from the point of view of maximising myself as an Ironman athlete for the very limited time I will be competing in Ironman races, are very challenging. You put so much effort into gaining just a couple of percentage points, and then you can lose so much to something you can’t control.

But again, perspective. These are ridiculous first-world problems. A huge percentage of the world’s population would love to be in my situation, stupid problems and all.

Something else noteworthy happened in the last couple of weeks. Saturday 11th October was the date for the Ironman World Championships in Kona, Hawaii. I couldn’t help but feel I should have been there. If only I hadn’t had that massage. Or if only I’d insisted on a 15-minute job, not hours and hours. If only, if only… it matters not one iota now, it’s done and can’t be changed, and I have to look forward.

The race in Kona was streamed live on the internet. With the time difference, the coverage started in the late afternoon on Saturday last, and the winners were finished in the early hours of Sunday morning. I stayed up and saw Sebastian Kienle take the men’s title, and Mirinda Carfrae take the ladies’ crown. Then I went to sleep, and woke up on Sunday morning to continue watching the amateur age-group athletes finish off their races. Midnight Hawaii time, or late morning in Europe, marked the end of Kona 2014. It was awesome. Very iconic. If I’d qualified for Hawaii last year, then I’d have gone there not knowing much about the race, the course, and its history. I feel like I know the race pretty well now, having read so much about it, and watched so much footage.

The 2014 online coverage was quite biased towards the leaders, so I didn’t really get a sense of what was unfolding behind first place, but some of the stuff I remember watching and thinking from the 2014 race:

Arguably the most iconic sight of the lot: Kona pier, which is the swim start, swim finish, transition area, and right beside the finish line. The pier was covered in bikes. Let’s make some estimates. Say 2200 bikes, and each bike is worth £3000. That’s a ten million dollar pier…!

They don’t use rails to hang the bikes off in transition, they have got “wheel slots” instead. It’s all very neat and tidy, but very closely packed. Not much more space available!

There isn’t much room for many more athletes to take part, due to space constraints on the pier and at the swim start. And also on the bike. With hundreds of athletes exiting the water every couple of minutes at busy periods, there’s not enough road space due to the drafting rules (you’re not allowed within 10 metres of anyone else unless overtaking). With more and more Ironman races on the calendar, and therefore more and more Kona qualification slots available, it looks like the Ironman organisers are going to have some thinking to do… I wouldn’t be surprised if events became staggered over an entire weekend (a Saturday race and a Sunday race), or over two weekends.

The swim start – awesome – 4 separate starts at different times for the pro men, pro women, age group men, and age group women. They don’t have a starting horn or a klaxon or a gun at Kona, they have a cannon…!

The clear blue sea, fish, turtles, dolphins, etc.

The last swimmers fighting to get out of the water, up the steps, and onto the pier before the 2:20 swim cut-off. Staggering out like drunks, 2 volunteers propping them up. Almost frog-marching them up the steps. This included a 70 or 80 year old nun who was competing…

Getting out of Kona on the bike, and onto the “Queen K”, the main highway along which the bike course passes, cutting through the dark lava fields.

The sense of how hot, windy and unrelenting it is.

Jan Frodeno (pro male and first-time Kona competitor), getting a puncture, and then an unfortunate 4-minute penalty. He ultimately finished 6 minutes behind the winner, and was very gracious at the end. But he must have been thinking that this was one that got away…

Sebastien Kienle turning on the turbo boost on his bike after the turn at Hawi, and coming into T2 in first place.

Those bikes…! I thought my bike was good… Those bikes are something else… Rocket ships…

Sebastien Kienle holding on in the marathon, going into the Energy Lab (about 16 miles into the marathon) in first place, coming out of the Energy Lab in first place, and winning the damn thing.

Mirinda Carfrae starting the marathon a long, long way back, and then reeling everyone in before taking the lead with a few miles to go.

Mirinda Carfrae running one of the fastest marathons of the day, faster than the male winner.

Sebastien Kienle’s finish line interview, across the loudspeakers, broadcast around the world: “I can’t fucking BELIEVE it!”

The amazing crowds.

Ali’i Drive, leading to the finish stretch.

Then I went to bed, and got up again for the last hour.

The final athletes coming in.

The expressions.

The absolute knackered-ness but elation.

“You are an IRONMAN!”

The different reactions of the finishers – some jumping over the line, some high-fiving the crowds, some punching the air, some grimacing, some smiling, some looking a lot more aware than others. In my three Ironman finishes, I have never heard anything. I’ve never heard them say “You are an Ironman”… They say it for everyone… I must listen better next time…

Every finisher getting a flower necklace. I think I’d look good in a flower necklace…

The big medals.

The party atmosphere.

The camaraderie.

The countdown to the 17 hour cut-off.

The fire dance at the end.

Awesome stuff. I have to get there and experience it for myself...

I took some screenshots (fairly poor quality images) and saved a few photos (better images) from the race, the best of which are below:

Male age group start
 

 
Chaos
 

Pros at the top, heading back. Age groupers at the bottom, heading out.
 

Pros approaching the pier and the swim finish
 

Pros on the Queen K
 

Bike train being monitored by the "drafting police"...
 

Kienle flying
 

Kienle on the marathon
 

Jan Frodeno happy with 3rd... Winner in 2015?
 

"I can't fucking believe it!"
 

Finish area panorama... awesome scene

 And finally, a note about my training. I haven’t been as disciplined with my stretching, weights and core work as I normally am. I’m still in the off-season though, but I will need to get back into the squatting, rubber-banding, weightlifting, contortionist stretching and so on. Training in the last couple of weeks was as follows:

Monday 6th October: Rest
Tuesday 7th October: 40 minute run
Wed 8th October: Rest
Thurs 9th October: 50 minute bike
Friday 10th October: 2.5km swim
Saturday 11th October: 2 hour turbo
Sunday 12th October: 35 minute run
Totals: Swim 2.5km, Bike 56 miles, Run 11 miles.

Monday 13th October: Rest
Tuesday 14th October: Rest
Wed 15th October: 1:05 turbo (5mins easy, 5mins hard x 6)
Thurs 16th October: 30 minute fartlek run
Friday 17th October: Rest
Saturday 18th October: 1:10 turbo (1 hour hard)
Sunday 19th October: Swim 2.5km, 35 minute run (15mins hard)
Totals: Swim 2.5km, Bike 50 miles, Run 11 miles.

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

Post 51 - Not quite nothing

I've spent the last few weeks doing "not quite nothing", in the aftermath of another ultimately frustrating season where I achieved "not quite nothing". "Nothing", in that I'm an all-or-nothing sort of person, and I didn't qualify for Kona, and so I didn't achieve what I set out to achieve.  But "not quite nothing", as this year will be a stepping stone, and the level I reached earlier in the year confirms to me that I have the potential to qualify.

After Wales, I spent a bit of time wondering if I should go to Barcelona for the Ironman event there. Ironman Barcelona was on Sunday 5th October. I wondered if I went there, would I have a chance to qualify...? Barcelona is a very flat and fast course, and I knew that realistically it would be a long shot to go there and come away with a Hawaii slot, a mere 3 weeks after Wales. In the end, I decided not to go to Barcelona. It was a bit of a crazy idea, very expensive, and I decided that enough was enough for the season. It had been a long year, and deep down I knew that my body was in need of a rest. I also needed to mentally switch off from it for a while too.

I had a quick look at the Barcelona results, and it turns out it was a good decision, as there were some seriously fast times posted. Even going into Barcelona in top form and well tapered, it would have been a long shot for me to qualify. I’d have needed a disc wheel as well.

So, with the decision made not to go to Barcelona, I really did switch off for a full two weeks. I suddenly found that I had time – a strange thing for me to have. At the weekends, I slept late. I watched TV. I read some books. I didn’t do a single training session other than walking to the train, walking from the train, and a few minutes per day on the lumbering, clunking hire bikes in London. I had a few beers on quite a few occasions. I ate some junk food. I ate a dirty burger.


 
It was actually called a dirty burger. I was sold straight away when I saw it on the menu. Dirty burger? Yes please…! It was a filthy mess of beef, cheese, onions, relish, spicy chilli sauce, and who knows what else. I’m not sure I want to know. But it was lovely. I ate sausages. I ate chips. I ate crisps. I also ashamedly ate some microwave meals. I am now carrying a few extra kilograms. But it wasn’t all bad news. I started on raw cabbage, big time.

I read an interesting article about how “disease” thrives in an acidic environment. With a typical Western diet, the blood pH lowers and becomes more acidic than it normally would. The article advised to eat alkalising foods on a regular basis, both to combat the “acidic” Western diet and to help to stave off disease. I like to think I eat a good diet (apart from the last couple of weeks), but I’m aware that the electrolyte drinks, gels and bars I use regularly when training and racing are quite acidic. So I thought that a good alkalising detox was in order.

I can buy a cabbage for less than £1, and I can slice it up and put it in a Tupperware box, and it will last me for days. It’s actually really nice, but it draws some funny looks and comments when it’s sitting on my desk at work. Admittedly, it does look a little bit like a brain in a box, but I’ll stick with it. It’s a cheap snack, it’s alkalising, and it’s good for you. Plus, there is no sugar in it. I think I need to get my sugar intake down a bit and cut down a little on the fruit – I must eat nearly 10 pieces of fruit per day, plus a couple of smoothies and a few other sugary bits and pieces – porridge, honey, cereal bars and so on.

Winter is well and truly on the way now. It’s dark when I get up. The evenings are really drawing in. For the last two years, Ironman Wales has quite literally marked the end of the summer, and the warm weather. I’ve been feeling colder in bed at night. I need a jacket on in the mornings. I can see my breath. Soon I'll have to dig out the winter coat and the thermals. It's a long time until the days will start to turn for the better again - February is 4 months away... 
A fiery but chilly sunrise

Endurance athletes often talk of the “post event blues”, when you are left at a bit of a loose end. When you spend so much time and effort pursuing something, and then it just ends, and you don’t have to do it any more (for a while anyway), it is quite a big change to get used to. Also, the past two seasons haven’t ended well, they’ve both finished on a bit of a downer. Maybe it would be different if I had actually qualified and had something concrete to show for the effort, and had the excitement of making plans and bookings to go to Hawaii. After Wales last year, when my season ended, I came off all the dietary supplements almost immediately, and I had the flu injection as well, so all of this combined to leave me a bit lethargic and listless this time last year. 

This year, I have applied a few lessons. I won’t be having the flu jab, for one thing! I came off the dietary supplements gradually this time around, to allow my body to adapt. I’ll stay off them for at least a month, again to give my body a bit of a break. I’m also living in a house with better company this year, which helps. I bought a piano/keyboard – I’ve always wanted to learn, so I can spend some of my free time teaching myself. I’m learning Enya’s “Book of Days”. I’m planning to get the guitar, harmonica and whistle out as well, and have a few tunes.

Lost and out of place in a room full of triathlon gear
 
I’m still trying to work out the best plan for next year. I think it’s most likely I’ll go back to Bolton and do Ironman UK again, assuming I can get an entry. Although I am looking at other races too. Ironman Frankfurt or Ironman Austria? Ironman Copenhagen? Ironman Kalmar in Sweden? Wales again? Barcelona? Ironman Mallorca? I’ll see. I’ll have to bite the bullet soon, and then I’ll just try to deal with any work trips as best I can and hope that my training in 2015 isn’t too disrupted.
So, after two weeks of giving myself a complete break, I felt it was time to start doing a few easy training sessions again. I wanted to be careful and take it easy, and I’ve been aware that my left knee is a bit sore. These damn knees don’t make life easy.

I got on the turbo on Tuesday night and had a really easy hour-long spin. It felt fine. Or so I thought. The next day, my legs felt like they had done 200 miles at top speed. They felt terrible! I took the next evening off. The evening after that, I did an easy 30 minute jog. And again, it felt fine. Or so I thought. That evening, in bed, I felt like my feet were going to explode. They were so sore. This persisted into the next day as well. Then, the next day I went for a swim. Just an easy, short swim. Needless to say, it felt terrible too. At the weekend, I did a longer turbo, and turned the intensity up a little bit higher than “easy”. This time, it felt better. I also did another run at the weekend, but it was spoiled by a sudden attack of the dreaded trots… I just about managed to get where I needed to go to resolve the problem!

First turbo session after Wales - summer 2015 and Kona both seem a long, long way off...
 
So I think all of this is my body’s way of saying “Please take it easy for a while”, and that’s what I plan to do. I’ll only do easy training for the next few weeks and build it up gradually towards Christmas, then once 2015 starts, I’ll hopefully have a good winter base built up and I can start to hit it hard again.

Training done this week was as follows:

Monday 29th Sept 2014: Rest
Tuesday 30th Sept 2014: 1 hour turbo
Wed 1st October 2014: Rest
Thurs 2nd October 2014: 30 minute run
Friday 3rd October 2014: Swim 2.5km
Saturday 4th October 2014: 30 minute run
Sunday 5th October 2014: 2 hour turbo

Totals: Swim 2.5km, Bike 55 miles, Run 9 miles