This is a fairly long blog post, but I've spent lots of time on trains in the days after the Bristol Triathlon, so I've had plenty of time for writing...
This week was Bristol Triathlon week, an Olympic-distance
triathlon consisting of a 1500m splash, a 40km mash and a 10km dash. Three
hundred or so were expected to enter the Olympic distance race, and there was
also a shorter sprint distance and a relay. I’d built a taper week into my
schedule, then the Bristol race, then an easy week after the race to recover,
then two more tough weeks of training, then two weeks to taper for the Ironman.
I’ve got a good friend (well, two good friends) in Bristol, Matt from
university and his girlfriend Elisa. Matt had roped me into doing the Bristol triathlon
a good few months ago. Despite being a good swimmer, a decent bike rider
(anyone who can ride 2200m up El Teide on Tenerife and still have enough left
to put out what I estimated to be something like 1000 watts on a final short
hill at the end of the day is a decent bike rider in anyone’s book), a sub-4
marathon runner, and multiple Ironman supporter, Matt had never done a
triathlon, so he was signed up too. It would be only my second Olympic-distance
triathlon, my first was 4 years ago…
I knew that a couple of months ago I was in good shape for a
crack at a sub-32 standalone 10K, and I knew that my biking and swimming were
sharp too, as I had included more speedwork this season compared with previous
seasons. I knew all this would combine into a decent crack at a
shorter-distance triathlon, and I was keen to have a go, to do a warm-up race
before the Ironman, to practice race-day conditions and to see what I could do.
I hardly ever race in triathlons, for a number of reasons – the expense, entry
fees, car hire, petrol, accommodation, time off work, the disruption to
training, the risk of injury, bad weather, crashing, whatever. But I’d decided
to have a crack at Bristol, and I’d been thinking that I could have a crack at
a sub-2-hour clocking, which would put me in contention for the race win. All
great, but all in my head…
But, in the couple of weeks before Bristol, I was a bit
undecided about whether to go or not. The main reason was that my right calf
was feeling a bit niggly. It has been niggly for a few weeks now, not feeling
100%. It hasn’t restricted me in training, but it’s mainly the fast running
that concerns me, and I’ve been careful to keep my running controlled and
manageable. So I’d got away with it up to now, but I wasn’t sure how it would
hold up to a fast 10K run at the end of a triathlon. Also, the weather forecast
wasn’t looking great, and the last thing I wanted was to have a crash on the
bike, or slip and fall when running round a tight turn. There really are a lot
of eggs in a very fragile Ironman basket this year…
Anyway, I made the decision that I’d go to Bristol. I’d see
how it went. If the weather was bad, I’d consider not biking at all, or taking
it easy. If I made it to the run, and felt in any way that anything didn’t feel
right, I’d either jog back or abandon. So, decision made, I was going, and I
was assuming that I was racing, so I went through the tapering process. I
practiced transitions in my room, and tried out my bike shoes with no socks –
another decision made – I’d bike in the triathlon with no socks, and whip on a
pair of ankle socks in the run. I’d race with my new tighter tri top under my
wetsuit, and see how this felt in the swim, with a view to doing the same in
the Ironman. In previous seasons I’d always put my tri top on after the swim,
but it’s tough to squeeze into a tight tri top when you are wet and trying to
blitz through transition. I debated how much liquid I’d need, and settled for a
small aero frame bottle which held 600ml. No front bottle and no bottles behind
the saddle. 3 energy gels taped to the bike. I also renewed my bike insurance this week.
Painful. I could buy a car for less. But
it would be stupid not to have the bike insured.
So on Saturday morning I went and picked up a rental car and
loaded it up with my gear. On the drive down to Bristol, I had to pit-stop four
times – I was making sure to keep hydrated, but what goes in has to come out… I
finally made it to Bristol, and after a decent dinner, I managed to restrict
myself to a single bite of banoffee pie, and then early to bed.
It was an early start on race morning, and the weather
seemed decent. The roads were damp, but not soaking. The sun was out, which
would hopefully soon dry things out. We got two bikes and two full sets of triathlon
gear into the back of the car, and drove down as close as we could to the race
HQ/transition areas. I had quite a heavy shoulder bag rather than a backpack,
and this bugged me a bit on the walk to the race HQ, as my shoulders and arms
started hurting, and I kept having to stop and rest and change which side I was
carrying the bag on. A lesson for next time, to use a rucksack.
We got there and got registered, and between messing about
at registration, using the toilets, getting orientated, and lending my pump to
a guy with a flat tyre, time slipped away and I started thinking, “Feck this,
I’m going to run out of time here…” There was still a lot to do – get to
transition, put number stickers on the bike and helmet, put the race number on
the number belt, sort out everything in transition, get the Garmin switched on
and paired up with the power meter and heart rate monitor, get changed, get
myself lubed up, get the wetsuit on, try to warm up and stretch, get to the
start and get going. All this takes time, and can be stressful, especially
getting the wetsuit on.
So I hot-footed it into transition and got on with getting
ready. When I turned my Garmin on, I wasn’t happy to see that my heart rate was
110… too stressed…! I took a few deep breaths, told myself I had plenty of time
(I didn’t really), and continued doing what I had to do. Matt was ready to race
by this stage, wetsuit on, everything sorted. My transition area, on the other
hand, looked like a bomb had hit, it was a mess. I still hadn’t got the wetsuit
on. Racing was already underway, with staggered starts every 30 minutes from
8:00am. Matt and I (supposedly being “strong” and “fast” swimmers), were in the
final start, at 9:30am, with our race briefing in a holding pen at 9:15am.
My bike in transition.
As nice as mine is, there were some seriously nice bikes on show...
Finally I had everything done and the last thing left to do
was wriggle and jiggle and struggle into my wetsuit. I hate putting my wetsuit
on. It takes ages, and wastes a lot of energy, pulling it on and pulling it up
and getting all the material into the shoulders. I always end up sweating and
with sore arms. I finally got it on, but it was boiling hot in the strong sun,
so we went and stood in the shade. Much better. We flapped our arms like giant
rubberised chickens in an effort to warm up as best we could. Matt hadn’t been
feeling great earlier in the week, he’d had a head cold, and probably could
have done with the race being a week later, but there would be no stopping us
now, except the issue of actually climbing into cold open water…
To be fair, the water didn’t look too bad at this stage, I’d
even go so far as to say it looked almost inviting – the sky was blue and the sun was
out, so the water was blue and sparkling, with swimmers from earlier starts
still finishing off their swims. There were plenty of safety canoes on the
water. It was actually an awesome location for a swim, in a basin in Bristol
city centre. A natural amphitheatre, with quite a few spectators. The course
was 2 laps of a double-V shape. As we were listening to our race briefing, the
sky clouded over, the sun disappeared, the temperature dropped and the water
darkened. Not so inviting now… I was listening to the race briefing official
telling us, “Make sure you get straight into the water, don’t mess about, we
will start if you are ready or not…” The last thing I wanted was to get
straight in, I usually need a good few minutes to ease myself into a swimming
pool, never mind a cold open water swim.
Hate this bit...
We paraded down to the start, caught sight of Elisa taking
photos, walked onto the jetty and then the inevitable, we had to get in. People
were just taking flying leaps. Matt did the same, and looked back to see me
sitting on the edge of the pontoon, toes dipping in the water. Urgh. Deep
breath, and, in… Cold… I thrashed about for a minute or two, treading water and
gasping, trying to get used to it, then headed towards the front, off to the
left. We got a 20-second warning, then we got told to keep back, then a
10-second warning, then yells of “KEEP BACK BEHIND THE BUOY”, then a siren went
off, and we were away… racing!
Spot the flying leaper, and the wimp adjusting his goggles
The water quality was officially “excellent”, but there
wasn’t much visibility. I’d decided to stay left and out of the scrum, so I
just swam, and after a couple of minutes, made a conscious decision to back off
just slightly, slow down my stroke a little, and swim my own swim, nice and
smooth and controlled. It’s not just a 1500m swim sprint, there’s a 40km bike
and 10km run to follow… All of the turns were sharp U-turns, which broke up the
rhythm of a fast swim, but kept things interesting. Heading “out” was fine for
sighting with the sun behind, but coming “back” was tough: swimming into a low
sun, it was difficult to sight the buoys. Most of the swim was around the
periphery of the basin, but one section looped into the middle, and it was
slightly choppier out there. Halfway through the first lap, as I plonked my
head back in the water after a glance up to sight, some water leaked into my
goggles, but thankfully it was manageable and didn’t get worse.
The zig-zag "infield" swim section
By and large, I didn’t have any bother in the swim. Maybe I
should have been a bit more aggressive at the start, and got right in the mix,
and drafted off some of the faster guys, and maybe I’d have swam slightly
faster, but equally, adopting this strategy means you get involved in a bit
more argy-bargy, there’s more risk of getting hit or dunked or swallowing
water. I clambered out of the water in 22:18. My best 1500m pool time is 22:50
or so (25m pool, not tumble turning). I’d expected to be a little faster than
22:18 in an open water wetsuit swim, but there were 7 very tight turns to
negotiate and I wasn’t sprinting flat out in the swim, mindful that there would
still be 90+ minutes to race. So, on reflection, 22:18 was about right. The
swim felt fine with my tri-top under the wetsuit, so I’ll do the same at
Ironman UK.
Into transition then, and I didn’t want to waste any time.
I’d decided on no socks for the bike, so it was on with the number belt, on
with the sunglasses, on with the shoes, and then on with the helmet. Damn it,
wrong order. The helmet won’t go on over the sunglasses. So, sunglasses off,
helmet on, and the helmet wouldn’t fasten, so off with the helmet, mess about with
the straps, finally it’s on and clipped, and I’m off, pushing my bike to the
exit of transition, and away. It took me a good few minutes to get my shoes
tightened up once I got going. I can definitely see the benefits of tri shoes
with one simple Velcro strap per shoe. Finally I was fully locked/clipped/tightened
to my bike, low down in the aero position, heading out the road to the
suspension bridge and beyond.
Exit T1, wave to the photo-taker
The bike course was on closed roads, which was great, and
the road surface was also really good. It was busy out on the bike course, with
cyclists from other starts all circulating. I was already overtaking loads of
people. There was no way to tell who was in the same start as me, so there was
no way to tell where I was positioned in the race. I guessed I’d been in the
top 20 in the swim (I later found out I was tenth out of the water). The bike
course was roughly 4.5km out beside the river Avon, then a tight U-turn, then
back into town for 4.5km, then about a kilometre looping around the basin, along
overpasses and past the transition area. This twisty section required a lot of
concentration. A full lap was 10km, so we were doing 4 laps.
In the early kilometres, my heart rate was well over 170bpm,
and I knew I had to try to lower it. By the end of my first lap, my heart rate
hadn’t come down too much. I’d been watching it, and I’d also been watching my
power output. On the flat straights I was hitting almost 300 watts, which was
high. Accelerating out of the U-turn at the far end, I’d made a conscious
effort not to spike my power, and not to hammer an acceleration back up to
speed, but I’d still hit 450 watts coming out of the first U-turn. Really high.
It was time to try to get the heart rate down, or I’d suffer a terrible run. I
got a shout from Matt on his bike – he’d got through the swim in just under 27
minutes, and wasn’t too far behind at this stage. I took on an energy gel, and
some water, and backed off ever so slightly. Despite this, my second lap was
marginally faster than my first, and my third lap was marginally faster than my
second. My heart rate did drop down to just below 170, which I thought was just
about OK. So it was just a case of “keep going”, hoping for no punctures,
continuing to take on water and gels, concentrating on holding a good aero
position, and not doing anything stupid in the technical sections of the
course.
Matt had told me that the bike course was really boring. For
me, it was anything but. Traffic-free, non-polluted roads, along a river and
under a spectacular suspension bridge. Yes please. There were some good fast
stretches, and the fiddly section around the swim basin and transition area was
fun to ride, with a lot of spectators around. Elisa had been joined by a couple
of others and I tried to give them fist pumps where I saw them, but you’re more
on your limit in an Olympic-distance triathlon bike section than an Ironman
bike section, so anything other than pure focus on the race and the road and
the numbers on the bike computer was difficult. I later found out the 4-time
Ironman World Champion Chrissie Wellington had been there supporting. She was
jogging the bike course in blue shorts, apparently. I have no recollection of
seeing anyone matching this description jogging on the bike course, so I was
obviously concentrating hard. It would have been good to have met her after the
race, if I’d known. A sporting legend.
The bike felt reasonably good, if not super-quick. I averaged something like
24.3mph, for a bike time of 1:02:24. I’d done 25mph for 4 hours last year in my
100 mile time trial, so I had hoped for a slightly faster bike time in the
triathlon, but about 10% of the course was fairly slow and technical, and there
were 4 U-turns taken at very low speed. Plus, I’d just swam 1500m and knew I
had a 10km run to go. So again, on reflection, I suppose that my bike time
wasn’t too bad. Matt biked an impressive 1:14, his best of the three
disciplines.
A look at my bike data showed that despite trying to
minimise my power spikes, I’d still hit over 500 watts accelerating out of the
U-turn. My average power for the bike was 267 watts, and my normalised power
was 273 watts, giving a variability index of 1.022. My average heart rate was
167bpm, and I managed to get it down from 175-180bpm at the start of the bike
to 160 or so by the end, which set up a reasonable run. As my heart rate
dropped throughout the bike, my speed and power output stayed fairly
consistent, so my pacing was good and it just took me a lap to settle into the
bike and get over the excitement of the swim and first transition. Looking back
at the data, I think I could have gone a little harder on the bike without
compromising my run, but I don’t have a lot of experience in Olympic-distance
triathlons, and so I was judging my pace based on guesswork rather than
previous data and experience.
Bike data: speed and power were fairly constant, heart rate decreased
I got through T2 with no bother, whipped on a pair of socks,
grabbed my Garmin watch and got away onto the 10k run. All I knew was that it
was a flat, fast run along the opposite side of the river to the bike. I didn’t
know at this point where I was in the race, I guessed maybe top ten. I felt OK
starting the run, and hoped to get through it with no hitches and without
wrecking my legs. Shortly, I was on the towpath beside the river. It was
narrow, with a lot of runners heading out, and a lot of runners heading back.
It made overtaking interesting, as there was barely room for one, never mind
two people charging in opposite directions, never mind two people charging in
opposite directions and someone trying to overtake one of these two… Also,
because it was a trail, and because it had been raining lots recently, the
ground was mucky and slippery in places, with quite a few big puddles. Add in
loads of low-hanging tree branches, some short, sharp and steep gradients, and jungle-like humidity (jungle-like
surroundings too, to be honest), and it made for a tough run.
My Garmin clocked my first mile (on roads/footpaths/hard surfaces leading to
the towpath) at 5:30, which was probably honest enough, and at 33-minute 10K
pace. I thought that a 33-minute Olympic-distance triathlon 10K would be
do-able, given the shape I was in, so I kept the pace. Then my next “mile” was
clocked at 6:40. Naaaah, that couldn’t be right… I’d passed a 3km marker on the
course in 10:30, so a 6:40 mile definitely couldn’t be right. The Garmin
doesn’t pick up good signal when in the trees, it needs a clear view of the
sky, so I didn’t get any more meaningful mile readings in the run. There were
kilometre markers on the course though, and I was able to get a rough gauge. I
knew my pace had dropped a bit, but this was more due to running off-road, on a
muddy surface.
Matt exiting T2
No-one had overtaken me, but I’d done plenty of overtaking. I didn’t know if I
was passing people who had started with me, or if they were from previous
starts. I kept an eye on people running on their way back to the finish area,
and was trying to judge who might have been ahead of me. I saw one guy in a GB tri-suit,
he must have been in my race, and ahead of me. There could have been others. I
hit the turn. I was now running for home. Less than 20 minutes to go. I still
felt good, and on the way back I didn’t see anyone chasing me down. Up to this
point, I’d got what I wanted: a trouble-free run-out. There was no way I was
going to break 2 hours. So for a couple of kilometres on the way back, I eased
off slightly (only slightly), and went into cruise mode – don’t get me wrong, I
was still working hard though, but keeping within myself, not deep into the red
zone, and hopefully minimising the impact on my legs, minimising risk of
injury, and getting back in one piece. Matt was heading out, with most of his
run ahead. We had a quick high-five, a few quick words of encouragement. He
looked good at this stage.
Then I saw I could break 2:05 if I ran under 36 minutes, both
reasonable targets. I felt good, so I lifted it again for the final few
kilometres. Again, not deep into the red zone, but enough to be feeling like I
was going hard enough. The final kilometre was evil – back on paved surfaces,
along park footpaths, up a steep hill, slowing to a standstill for a hairpin
turn where there were very enthusiastic dancing marshals, accelerating out of
the hairpin again on a footpath by the road, unable to see the finish line,
round a corner, up a gradual drag, round another corner, still on an incline,
then the finish line was just ahead. Over the line, and done. I’d been keeping
an eye on my time in the final couple of kilometres, and I knew it was
2:04:something and sub-36 before I’d even looked at my watches. Yes, watches –
I’d worn my cheap and trusty Casio watch for the whole thing and started it in
the water, and I’d got my Garmin watch on my other wrist for the run.
Final few metres...
Race done, that was it. I’d got through it. I seemed OK. The
trail run hadn’t been too tough on my legs due to the softer surface. If it had
all been on the road, I’m sure my legs would have been in worse shape at the
finish, and in the days that followed. I recovered quickly, and went to put on
some warmer clothes. I made a point of making a protein drink and getting it
all down me, disgusting as it was. Then I jogged back out along the course to
see Matt coming in. I went back to about 9km and jogged back and forth, shaking
out my legs. My mum phoned to see how I’d got on, but I had to hang up on her
as Matt then appeared, looking like, well, looking like he had just beasted a
1500m swim, a 40km bike, and a tough, warm and humid 10k run. He didn’t look like
he’d had an easy or particularly enjoyable run, but he was going strong and
finished his first triathlon in 2:41. A solid effort. Maybe if he’d biked
slightly slower, he’d have run quicker, but it’s always tough to judge. You
could have scraped the salt off his face and sold it for a tidy profit,
testament to a good effort in testing conditions.
A bacon butty appeared as if by magic (thanks Matt), and we were soon
chewing the fat, in two senses...We agreed that it had been a great event,
really friendly and well-organised. I had hoped to be slightly quicker, but
conditions had been humid and “heavy”, and the run hadn’t been easy. Sub-2 will
have to wait for another day, but I’d love to go sub-2. Despite feeling well
below par, Matt had got through his first triathlon with a solid swim and bike,
followed by a tough but gutsy run. Fair play.
Job done, x 2
We missed the prizegiving because we had been messing about
in transition, taking photos, drinking water, putting on warm clothes and
eating bananas. I decided to go and ask where I’d finished, and found out I had
ended up in third position… I was a bit surprised by this. It had obviously not
been the quickest of days, as no-one had broken 2 hours. This lifted my mood a
bit, and I won a bagful of goodies. And the more I thought about things, the
better I felt – I’d had a good day, a good race, my swim had been reasonable,
my bike had been reasonable, I’ve now got some power and heart rate data (from
a road ride) that I can analyse, I’d had a solid run (it ended up the fastest
run of the day), I’d practiced my transitions under race conditions, everything
had gone well if not super-brilliantly, and I couldn’t really have asked for
more. Specific short-distance training would have gained me a bit of time, but
I’ve been mainly working on endurance in the final couple of months before
Ironman UK. The race organisers had done a brilliant job, the atmosphere and
marshalling were brilliant, the event was really well supported, it was very
friendly… and it hadn’t rained.
The Cumberland Basin swim location, looking quieter
after the efficient tidy-up operation
We headed back to the house, and we were both pretty tired,
flopping on the sofa and looking through Elisa’s photos. We were even able to
pick ourselves out in the swim! We also established that wearing an aero helmet
makes you look great, as opposed to inappropriate… I had a bowlful of banoffee
pie (which obviously would have helped my recovery immensely), and finally
summoned up the energy to go upstairs and have a shower. We went out for dinner
with the others who had come to support. Pizza. Fair enough! I ate loads. Then
I had to go, it was a long drive back, and I knew I had to get a decent sleep,
as I was heading off next week on another work trip – hopefully (definitely?)
the last one before the Ironman. I didn’t have to stop once on the way back to
use the toilet, and I had been drinking loads of water. So I was obviously a
bit dehydrated, but I’d work on that over the coming days.
Race done, I got what I wanted from it, got through it,
didn’t suffer any sore legs or injuries, and it will have been a good stepping
stone on the road to the Ironman. The vague plan now is to have an easy week to
recover (I’m away with work anyway, in the Midlands),survive the week away,
analyse the power data from the race, and do another FTP (functional threshold
power) test at the weekend. I’ll do a 20-minute test to see how it compares to
my result of 324 watts (x 0.95 = 307 watts for 60 minutes) from earlier in the year. The test this weekend will be
my benchmark for the Ironman. It’ll be interesting to see how much I’ve
improved. I’m not looking forward to the test, they are painful, and I’ve never
experienced a longer ten minutes than the final ten minutes of an FTP test…
Training done this week was as follows:
Mon 8 June: Rest
Tue 9 June: Rest
Wed 10 June: 30 min turbo, 20 min run
Thu 11 June: Rest
Fri 12 June: 20 min turbo, 10 min run
Sat 13 June: Rest
Sun 14 June: Bristol Olympic distance triathlon: 2:04:39
Swim 1500m 22:18, T1 2:53, Bike
40km 1:02:24, T2 1:18, Run 10km 35:44 (trail)
Totals: Swim 1.5km, Bike 32 miles, Run 11 miles
