Post 156 - Frustrations

Things have been a bit frustrating recently, since the Edinburgh half-ironman disaster. I was always going to give myself a few days off after the race, which I duly did. Eating rubbish, switching off mentally, doing no training, putting on weight. The lowest weight I’d been prior to the race was 60.6kg (admittedly after a long training session), my “normal” weight seemed to be around 62-63kg, but in the space of a few days I went up to over 65kg. My legs were still sore from where they had been cramping, and I was happy to be a slob for a few days. My next race wasn’t until 3 weeks later so I had enough time to be a slob and then get back into a bit of training before the Gullane Olympic distance beach triathlon, near Edinburgh.

A week after Edinburgh, I went to London (well, Kent/Surrey) for a “stag do”. Not a boozy, 4am thing, but mostly cycling out in Surrey and Kent. London was stifling, over 30 degrees, and I was glad I didn’t live there any more. We did some good cycling out in the countryside, punctuated by pub/food stops, and I ate a load more junk throughout. Steve has done next to no cycling for the best part of a year so towards the end, he was knackered and hanging off the back of the group. I started to drop back to him, another guy (Mac) dropped right back to him, and whatever Mac said or did to Steve, it worked a miracle because the next thing, Mac and Steve came charging through like an express train and we all time-trialled our way towards the end of our route. Honestly the most unlikely and incredible thing I’ve seen in cycling, I don’t know how Steve managed it. I did a short 40-minute run the following morning and it was baking hot. It was a good weekend. 

On Sunday, when not in the pub, wedding suits were tried on... hungover...

The following week I did some bike hill repeats at Arthur’s Seat and felt reasonable. I hit the first one as hard as I could, to see how quickly I could do it (3:20), and by the time the final sixth one came around I had dropped 20 seconds. It felt so tough. Then it was off home to N.Ireland for a long weekend. Again, as at the stag do, it would be tricky to control what I ate, but again I just shrugged it off. Some downtime wouldn't hurt. The Gullane race wasn’t a priority race, neither was the St Mary’s Loch race a week after that, but the European Sprint triathlon championships 2 weeks after that again was a big priority, but I still had a lot of time between now and then.

I did a tough beach run at home, in 19:28. My best time down the beach (and I’ve done it literally hundreds of times) was 17:47. The 19:28 seems slow in comparison, but the tide was high and the sand was soft and uneven, so conditions weren’t fast. The following day I went out on the bike with my dad, and we cycled the coast road, from Portstewart to Larne, via Ballycastle, finishing with another 20+ miles uphill to Ballymena to catch the train home. Almost 100 miles in total. It’s billed as one of the most scenic roads in the world, and that’s not far wrong. I said to dad he would need to take it easy for the first couple of hours, to make sure he had energy left for the second half of the ride. My plan was to thrash the hills as hard as possible, and use it as a proper training ride. Roughly speaking, the first third would be hilly and tough, the middle third would be flat and fast, with a tailwind, and and final third would be a long drag up away from the coast.

There’s a viewpoint overlooking White Park Bay which dad said he can get to in an hour if he pushes it and has a favourable wind. So I thought we might reach it in 1:15 or something. We got there in 1:01. Fast riding. We dropped down into Ballycastle, climbed up past the vanishing lough, dropped down to Cushendun, and then halfway between Cushendun and Cushendall we detoured up a very steep hill to an old ruined church. “A wee gem” as my dad said, and it was. Dating from the 12th century, with gravestones all around, overlooking the sea, set in a wooded glade, with a little stream bubbling behind. An unreal place. We met a girl who had lost her husband of 30 years to cancer, she was doing a sponsored 354-hour walk to raise money for charity. Fair play.

White Park Bay view point

Vanishing lough - unsurprisingly vanished with the recent warm weather

We stopped in Cushendall for a bite to eat, then it was flat flat flat all the way to Larne on a spectacular coastal road – the sea and Scotland off to the left and huge cliffs, glens, villages and landscapes to the right. Great cycling. Another short stop on the outskirts of Larne fuelled us up the long hill towards Ballymena and the train station. I powered up the final hill (so did dad to be fair, he is a machine) and so ended a great cycle. We got the train to Coleraine and then it was another few miles on the bike back home – these were the worst miles as it was later in the evening and I was freezing.

Halfway round the coast road I was given an order:
"Text your mum and tell her to put beers in the fridge..."

Got home. Straight to fridge. Beer destroyed. And not by me!

I went down to the beach the next day and did mile repeats on some nice hard sand, with a slight tailwind going out and so a slight headwind coming back. You’re never as fast on sand as you’d be on the road. My times were 5:08, 5:25, 5:08, 5:32. I went visiting relatives that evening, and went for a swim the next morning, doing various sets of 250m drills, including 3 x 200m at pace (all in 3:45, so 1:30/100m pace, which was pretty good). So far, all was well. I’d had a bit of a break, I’d got back into training, and I was feeling strong.

The catalyst for things going wrong happened that afternoon. I was in the amusements, playing the basketball machines with my brothers. It got quite competitive (the previous high score was 150 or something, by the time we were done it was 243). I should have known better than to be stretching over a basketball machine on my tiptoes for half an hour. It made my calves very tight. We all said the same thing.

I planned on a bike ride the next morning before travelling back to Scotland, but it was raining, so I had a rest day instead. I wasn’t too disappointed with this as my calves probably needed a break. Looking back, I should have gone for a massage to loosen them. I got back to Scotland and the next day, did a very hard turbo session, with intervals of up to 400-500 watts. My calves were so tight. Then the next day (stupidly following a hard session with a hard session the next day) I ran some hill sprints. I hoped to do 10. I got to 4 or 5 and my right Achilles felt sore, and I was definitely not running naturally. Was it so bad that I couldn’t continue? Should I have stopped immediately? The old conundrum of when to run through pain and when to stop… the perfectionist in me hates compromising my training. In the end I did 8 hills, and the jog home wasn’t very comfortable.

The next morning I could barely walk. My Achilles was not good. I also had pain down the inside of my right knee. Not what I wanted. I did a swim and that evening, did a load of self-treatment – foam rolling to loosen my calves (painful), anti-inflammatories, ice, hot-cold-hot-cold-etc shower treatment, self massage, compression, you name it. I repeated this for the rest of the week. To be fair, it eased a lot in 24 hours, up to a point, but it hasn't yet eased beyond that point. I didn’t know whether I’d race Gullane or not. I did a 10-minute trial jog the night before (after 3 days off running), and I could run, but it was uncomfortable. Hammering out a 10K run might have been possible, but it could well ruin the Achilles. I’ve got 2 big races coming up – the European sprint and the world half-ironman. I really don’t want to miss these.

So I called Gullane off. Probably sensible. Instead I went for a 70 mile cycle out in the Borders, on a few new roads – really nice cycling through the hills and along the river valleys. I was trialling some new sports nutrition called Tailwind. I needed to trial something after the Edinburgh disaster, and after all the stomach and gut issues I’ve had in previous ironmans. Tailwind is an all-in-one drink mix, containing calories, carbs, electrolytes, salts, everything you need. It promises “no more gut bombs” and is “all you need, all day”. And they say you won't feel hungry when you take it. Lofty promises, if it does all that it'll be worth its weight in gold. It seemed decent. I paced the 70 miles pretty well, starting easy (relatively) and maintaining power. I averaged 230 watts and it felt pretty hard by the end. It's funny how it feels like such a breeze at the start. So the power figures are a good barometer for the half ironman in South Africa (I started at 270-280 watts in the Edinburgh half… hmmmm).

Scenic toilet stops...

I came off the 70 miles with a sore left knee, and still with pain down my right knee and groin, and still with a sore Achilles. This is not good , training is going to be compromised big time now as I will not be able to run. And I have no idea when I will be able to run. I want to be hammering the training now, with only 3 weeks left before the euros. I have (had) high hopes to challenge for a podium at the euros but as it is right now, I am kind of losing interest - again the perfectionist in me says that if it's not going to be perfect, what's the point... We will see how things go. But it's strange how you work so hard in training and after months, you finally feel the flow, things are happening, going well, feeling strong, and it doesn't take much to derail things, and when one thing starts to derail, others start derailing too and you end up starting almost from scratch again months later. That seems to be my experience anyway.

Ironically, I did a Sunday swim, and I felt good and strong in the water - as good as ever? Possibly... It was a really tough set - 250m warm up, 10 x 100m, 500m easy, 10 x 100m, and 250m cool-down. My average for the first set of 10 x 100m was around 1:24 - 1:25, which (for me) was a really strong set, as good as ever. Recovery was up to 2 minutes. The second set dropped but I still averaged under 1:30, which again was pretty decent swimming. I tried a jog in the evening, on the grass, and it wasn't great. After a few minutes my Achilles was getting too sore so I packed it in. Not good at all. This is the business end of the season, with two big international races coming up, and I currently can't run/compete. 

Another thing I am messing around with is a new aero helmet. My one is very tight, it presses hard on my ears and after a while gives me a thumping headache. It's old technology too, about 8 years. It doesn't have an integrated visor and I am losing time in transition trying to force sunglasses on with the tight ear flaps. So I ordered 4 aero helmets online and wasn't keen on any of them: The Met Drone (easy to put on but far too big and like wearing a huge goldfish bowl), the Lazer Wasp (tricky to put on, not well ventilated and the straps slid about too much), the Rudy Project Wing57 (the visor integration wasn't great and ear flaps seemed flimsy), and the Giro Aerohead (just did not like the look of it and not convinced the aerodynamics will suit me - it has a short tail and I'd prefer something longer to cover my neck and upper back, as I can hold an aggressive aero position). So they will all be sent back, and the hunt goes on. Assuming I do Glasgow, I want to have a new helmet sorted before then...

Like eggs from above

Training done was as follows:

M 2/7/18 Rest
T 3/7 Rest
W 4/7 Rest
T 5/7 Swim 2.4k (paddle drills)
F 6/7 Rest
S 7/7 Bike 70 miles (Surrey/Kent)
S 8/7 40 min run

Totals: Swim 2.4k, Bike 70 miles, Run 5 miles

M 9/7/18 Rest
T 10/7 Bike 6 x Arthurs seat reps (short/full): 3:01/20, 3:10/30, 3:12/32, 3:15/32, 3:12/31, 3:20/39)
W 11/7 Run 19:28 (beach)
T 12/7 Bike 95 miles (coast road)
F 13/7 4 x 1 mile beach (5:08, 5:25, 5:08, 5:32, with 5min recovery)
S 14/7 Swim 2.6k (sets of 250m drills, 3 x 250 in 3:45)
S 15/7 Rest

Totals: Swim 2.6k, Bike 125 miles, Run 13 miles

M 16/7 1:20 turbo (20 x 30sec hard 400-500W, 2:30 rec)
T 17/7 8 x hill repeats (74, 71, 71, 72, 73, 75, 75, 73)
W 18/7 Swim 1.8k (2 x 10 x 50m, 40-43 sec, rec to 1min)
T 19/7 1 hour turbo
F 20/7 20 min turbo (single leg drills), 10 min run
S 21/7 70 mile bike (65.4 miles 144bpm, 232/230W, 3080ft)
S 22/7 Swim 3.1k (2 x 10 x 100m, 1:25/1:29, rec to 2mins), 5 minute run

Totals: Swim 4.9km, Bike 120 miles, Run 8 miles

Post 155 - Edinburgh half-Ironman 2018

I had very high hopes for the Edinburgh half ironman 2018. In the 2017 event I missed out on qualifying for the world championships by less than one second, despite having done very little training, and no running training at all, coming as I was off a torn calf, and having done the race on a road bike (this year I had a proper triathlon bike with a disc wheel). My training this year had been great, I’ve been doing a lot of triathlon racing and had decent results, with a proven very strong run off the bike.

I hoped to finish on the podium in my age group, and claim a world championship qualifying slot. I even had a new set of wheels, to account for possible blustery conditions – in my previous race 2 weeks before, my deep-rimmed front wheel was getting blown around a lot, making for a couple of hairy moments at 30mph... So I’d got myself a slightly less deep front wheel (and a non-disc rear, in case it really was very windy and discs would be banned/downright crazy to ride, at the half-ironman, or at any future races). The bike was serviced, the training was done. I knew the course well. I would even have quite a few supporters out watching, particularly on the run course. I just needed to execute on the day.

Arriving to transition on race morning, there was no wind, the sea was flat, sparkling, blue, almost inviting. I’m well used to race morning preparations and had no issues. I had a new thermal wetsuit which I’d never had on before. I got suited up, it felt good, I went for a short jog up the hill behind transition to get the blood pumping, and got in the queue to start. I pushed my way as close to the front as possible, had a quick chat with Dermot before we started, and had a good clean start to my swim. The thermal wetsuit was great and only my bare feet were cold.

Quick jog up the hill before the start - 

looks peaceful, but the carnage of pre-race transition is behind the camera

The calm water was tremendous. I really like swimming in calm water – what a difference it makes. Compared with last year’s high winds and rough sea, I almost managed to enjoy the swim and felt good throughout. I kept hoping a jellyfish (or other sea monster) wouldn’t spoil it. There was very little argy-bargy and not much to upset the rhythm. On the homeward leg, sighting was made difficult by the low sun directly ahead but I got through it and exited the water in just over 31 minutes – a bit slower than I’d have hoped, but I think the swim was slightly long.

In a previous 1500m Olympic triathlon pool swim I lost well over 4 minutes to last year’s sprint triathlon world/European champion, but in the 1900m Edinburgh half ironman swim, with no tumble turning, I “only” lost around 2 minutes. Extrapolate this back to a 750m open water swim (as will be the case at this year’s sprint triathlon European championships in Glasgow in August), and hopefully I’ll be losing less than a minute.

That was about as good as the Edinburgh half ironman got for me. I had a quick transition, jumped on the bike and got on the road. For all my short triathlons earlier this year I have been able to go flat out, full-gas, hard, for the whole race, without having to worry too much about hydration or nutrition – maybe a couple of gulps of water or one energy gel. The half-ironman is a different beast.

Looking back, I went too hard in the first half of the bike, and didn’t hydrate enough. It was extremely warm, and no doubt I was sweating loads and losing a lot of salts/electrolytes. But, I felt good, and was racing by feel rather than by experience. I don’t have the experience of half-iron distance racing to know how to pace this distance. For the whole bike (over two and a half hours), I doubt I even had a litre of fluid. I didn’t pee once on the bike. I reckon I peed three times last year. For the final 20 miles of the 56, my power output and average speed dropped away pretty pitifully – I went from 270 watts to 280 watts in the first 10-15 miles, and then dropped to under 200 watts by the end. And pushing those 200 watts felt like pushing hell by the end. Plus I was in a lot of discomfort - my helmet is too tight - it's OK for 30 minutes, but for 5 times longer than 30 minutes it gives you a pretty sore head. Also, my shoulders and arms were sore, especially the one I dislocated. 30 minutes in the aero position is OK, over 150 minutes becomes sore... But I told myself I was a strong runner and I’d soon be flying on the run course.

I finished the bike in 2:38 (almost 10 minutes up on last year) and assumed my run would be as strong as it has been in all the other (shorter) races I’ve done this year. It was anything but. I got up the first hill OK, at good pace, but after 1.5 miles I had the most agonising cramps in my legs. Like being stabbed with knives. Horrendous. I’ve never been in pain like it. My legs would not, indeed could not, function with this pain, they were completely debilitated and I was left, almost literally, as a screaming wreck on the side of the course.

I tried everything. I tried massaging them, pummelling them, shaking them, stretching them. Nothing worked. I managed to start some sort of a limp and gradually got back into some sort of a jog, but my pace was a long, long way from what was needed to be competitive. It was really gutting. I had quite a few supporters on course who were surprised to see me in such a state. I managed to swear at my parents. I took on board quite a lot of fluids and gels at the aid stations, but this gave me stomach issues and meant I got very familiar with the port-a-loos. Not where you want to be during a triathlon. I had three more cases of debilitating, painful cramps, and I tried as best I could to just keep moving. It was very demoralising.

Suffering badly

During one cramp episode, another athlete stopped and gave me some salt. I’ve taken electrolytes, gels, bars etc, but I’ve never taken on salt before. It came in a little vial. I unscrewed the lid and tipped it onto the palm of my hand. It looked like flavoured sherbet so I assumed I could just swallow it down, and that it would be refined/made for athletes to easily ingest. How wrong I was – it was just pure salt and I had swallowed down a month’s worth of salt in one fell swoop before I realised. It was horrible – burning my mouth and insides, and I seriously worried about salt poisoning. I had no liquid to dilute it or wash out my mouth. The next aid station wasn’t far away but it took ages to get there and I was foaming uncontrollably at the mouth by the time I got there. I chucked as much water down and around my mouth as I could, but didn’t get much relief.

I did think often about packing it all in and quitting. I really was going nowhere fast. But I thought it was worth finishing – my swim time was strong, my bike time was strong, and even though the run had fallen apart I knew there were world championship qualification slots up for grabs – 50 slots for Nice 2019, and 50 slots for South Africa 2018. I’d been keen to go to Nice, but so was everyone else, as it’s a shorter trip. Probably not as many people would opt to go to South Africa, so I thought there was a chance. But to see if there was a chance, I had to finish.

So I finished. A dreadful day. An awful run. I thought my 1:37 run last year was bad (I had done no running training last year, zero, zilch, and ran 1:37). This year I had been meticulous and had done exactly what I wanted in training. And managed to be over one minute per mile slower than last year. Rubbish. I've lost count of the number of Ironman (or half-Ironman) races I've done now, it's well into double figures, and they have all been a complete disaster in one way or another.

Anyway I finished, and sat in the athletes’ tent afterwards eating pies, not wanting to see or speak to anyone. Finally I bit the bullet and went out and saw my parents, brother and other friends. I’m sure they had been expecting to see a strong run. They saw a shambles. I apologised, went home, showered, and went back for prizegiving.

Hacked off in the athletes' tent afterwards

And the end result of prizegiving was that I left with a qualifying slot for the half-Ironman world championships in South Africa at the start of September 2018. I didn’t take much satisfaction from it though. You want to feel you’ve earned your slot with a strong performance. I certainly didn’t feel like I’d earned it; rather it was more by default. People have said, “Well, finally you got a bit of luck on your side after all the previous Ironman disasters”, and maybe there’s an element of truth in that, but still, it’s not the way I wanted to earn a world championship qualification slot. I can only hope for a better race in South Africa, and I can certainly learn a lot of lessons.

Looking back, it went wrong for a lot of reasons. In the days before the race, it had been roasting hot, difficult to sleep, and I had been sweating a lot. My heart rate had been elevated. Usually it’s in the low 40s, but it was well over 50 and wouldn’t go any lower. So maybe there was some sickness or fatigue or tiredness, not helped by the hot temperatures. 

Also, I don't think my guts had fully recovered from the long run "incident" a couple of weeks ago. In the race, I clearly didn’t take enough calories, liquid, salts/electrolytes on the bike. Partly this was stupidity, thinking the half-ironman wouldn’t be too different from a shorter triathlon. Maybe if race day had been cooler I would have got away with it, or at least suffered less. I had done no sea swimming, so maybe the salt water upset my stomach. I paced the bike terribly, going too hard in the first 20 miles, leaving my legs cooked. Maybe I’d get away with overbiking in a short triathlon because the run only lasts 15-16 minutes, but 13.1 miles is a long way to run on legs that are cooked. Then on the run I didn’t have a lot of discipline at the aid stations and took on a disgusting mix of water, electrolytes, gels, caffeine, as well as the pure salt.

Lessons learned, the hard way. It was only my second half-iron distance race, and the first one I’ve taken really seriously. Up next will be a good few days off, a complete mental switch-off, a cycling trip to Kent, a short “holiday” back at home in Northern Ireland (involving swimming, cycling, and running) and then hopefully I will have recovered. The next big target will be the European sprint triathlon championships in Glasgow at the start of August. I have entered two shorter triathlons (Olympic distance) at the end of July, but I’m not 100% sure I will do both of them, or even any of them – Glasgow is the big target. I will just have to wait and see how I feel and how training is going.

A few random photos from top: Fuel, dad on bike, day out the day after the race at Thriepmuir reservoir. This is literally just outside Edinburgh and a well-known open water swimming location. Need to do this!

Training was as follows:

Mon 18 June 2018: Rest
Tue 19 June: 90 min turbo (10 x 2mins hard/3mins easy)
Wed 20 June: Swim 1.4km (10 x 100yards, ~1:16 (1:23-1:24/100m), recovery to 2mins)
Thu 21 June: 40 min fartlek run
Fri 22 June: 35min turbo (single leg drills, 2 x 5mins R/L/B), swim 1.9km
Sat 23 June: 2:55 bike (41.8 miles, 107bpm, 2600ft)
Sun 24 June: 70 min run

Totals: Swim 3.3km, Bike 87 miles, Run 15 miles

Mon 25 June: Rest
Tue 26 June: 60 min turbo (14 x 1min hard/2mins easy)
Wed 27 June: 30 min fartlek run
Thu 28 June: Swim 1.1km
Fri 29 June: 30 min turbo, 15 min run
Sat 30 June: 30 min bike
Sun 1 July: Edinburgh half Ironman: 31:03 swim, 3:19 T1, 2:39:06 bike, 2:03 T2, 1:54:49 run (5:10:20)

Totals: Swim 3km, Bike 95 miles, Run 20 miles