So, this week, everything was geared towards tapering down and being
fresh for the race on Saturday in Lurgan Park. I didn’t train at all on Monday.
I did an easy 30-minute turbo session on Tuesday night, with 5 sets of hard
30-second intervals to open up my legs and get the blood flowing and heart
pumping, helping to flush out my muscles. On Wednesday night I did a 30-minute
jog. Nothing too strenuous. There are no more gains to be made in the week
before a race. Just keep ticking over.
On Thursday I flew back to Northern Ireland after work. I had already
texted my mum and had made an advance order of brown pasta, and she didn’t half
oblige. A massive plate of pasta was waiting for me when I got home. And loads
more was in the fridge. I could have had brown pasta for breakfast, lunch and
dinner for the whole weekend. I sat down to eat my massive plate of pasta on
Thursday evening and my dad said that if I managed to eat all of it, I’d be
fuelled to run 90 miles right around Lough Neagh, never mind 12K around the Lurgan
Park venue. I did nothing whatsoever on Friday other than eat pasta, do a
15-minute jog, and read a book cover to cover for the first time in years.
The book was entitled “On my own two wheels” by Malachi O’Doherty. I
really enjoyed it. He writes about his experiences of taking up cycling in his
60s (“to concede the need to get fit is to acknowledge that your life is
unnatural” – very true), he talks about cycle routes, roads, landmarks and
cycling tours in Northern Ireland and “down south”, he discusses his realisation
that age creeps up quickly and time seems to accelerate year on year, and also muses
on the conflict between easy, leisurely cycling for enjoyment and always
wanting to push just a little bit harder, go a little bit further, ride a
little bit faster. He says, “Whether I would ever learn to enjoy cycling
without over-exertion seemed the fundamental question.” Same for me, I can’t
get on a bike without wanting to hammer it. I think I enjoyed the book so much
because I can relate to everything in it, and it’s always interesting to read
an alternative viewpoint on things that are so familiar.
I quite like this
I bought the book for my dad a couple of years ago and I think it
inspired him to go and cycle the Torr Road (a hugely scenic road in the
north-east of Northern Ireland that overlooks Scotland, but brutal gradients
are the price that you have to pay for these views). He’s talking about doing
it again in the opposite direction, and then going for fish and chips in
Ballycastle. You earn the views, you earn the fish and chips. It wouldn’t be
the same if you drove the Torr Road. The views wouldn’t quite be as rewarding.
The fish and chips wouldn’t be earned. The book might inspire me to quit the
rat race and spend a few months cycle touring in Ireland…
The Torr Road
I once cycled to the top of the Col du Galibier in the French Alps, up to
nearly 9000 feet above sea level, and stood gasping with effort at the summit.
It was a big effort for me, because way back many years ago… in 2005… I wasn’t
a triathlete or a cyclist, indeed I was barely even a runner. Soon I was
gasping in complete disbelief. A big camper van had parked about 100m from the
summit, and out jumped an entire peloton of tourists, wearing all the latest cycling
gear, yellow jerseys and all.
They opened up the back of their camper van and took out their bikes. The
driver jumped out and walked up to the summit, with a videocamera in one hand
and a regular camera in the other hand (there were no smartphones in those days).
They all gave a thumbs up and the videocamera started rolling, then they rode
the 100m up to the summit, filming and photographing the daring escapade, no
doubt to show the folks back home how they had spent hours climbing the 40-50km
road up the Col du Galibier, and how they had persisted and conquered. They
posed next to the big “Col du Galibier 2645m” sign and raised more thumbs and
took more photos. Then they freewheeled 100m back down the road to their camper
van, loaded up their bikes, and drove back down the mountain. Epic.
I was hopeful of a decent run at the Ulsters. I had finished in 12th
place last year at the same venue. I usually go well in the Ulsters. I’d done a
really good hill session last week. I was feeling positive. The club were looking
to win 3 in a row, having won the team prize in 2014 and 2015. The team prize
is calculated by adding up the finishing positions of each club’s top 6
runners, and the club with the lowest total wins. Runners outside the top 6 can
still push rival club runners down the finishing order. Every position counts.
Supporters can really spur you on, so it’s a big, big team effort all round. There
are usually ongoing frantic calculations carried out on the sidelines during
the race to get an idea of how the team prize is shaping up. I hoped to be good
enough to finish in the club’s top 6 and contribute to the overall team
position.
In the week before the race, a couple of our good runners pulled out,
including last year’s winner. Two men down. Saturday’s weather was miserable.
Lashing rain and dark skies and wind. It would be a bit different from last
year’s perfect running conditions. I drove to Banbridge to pick up Aaron, one
of our guys who had flown into Dublin from Madrid the night before. He had got
the bus up from Dublin that morning. “How’s it going Arnie, are you in good
form?” “Aye, well, we’ll see…” He wasn’t giving too much away, but he did let
slip that a few weeks ago he had run a 70-minute half marathon. 70 minutes is
really good. “You’d hope to be up at the sharp end today then?!” “Aye, well,
we’ll see…”
His bus was a bit late coming up from Dublin, so we ended up arriving a
bit late to the race venue, and we had a bit of a hurried warm-up. The rain had
stopped and we looked to be getting the best of the day, but parts of the
course were an absolute muck-bath. Ankle deep, strength-sapping and messy. Just
like cross country should be… The ladies had their race immediately before the
men, and they had churned it up even more.
It was nearly time to start. I pulled on my vest. In doing this, I got a
glimpse of my gut. I’m still carrying a couple more kilos than I would like to
be. I’ve been doing a few more weights this season to try to bulk up a little, thinking
this will help me in an Ironman, but I didn’t have a great winter of training
as my work situation was very uncertain and as a result of this, I wasn’t
really able to plan my races this season. Things are still very uncertain, but
I am working on the basis that I will be competing in Ironman UK this summer,
and I’ve also told myself that I will try to peak in July this year, rather
than in May as in previous years. It’s very difficult to maintain the peak for
a couple of months, and this is one way I’ve gone wrong in previous years. The
couple of extra kilos are evidence that I wasn’t quite at the level of previous
years going into the Ulsters.
We toed the line. Good luck lads. Nothing for it now but to run hard for
6 laps and 12km. I got round in under 40 minutes last year and was pleased with
my run. How would I go this time…? The first lap felt OK. The pace felt OK. The
muck was deep in parts and it was probably taking more effort than I realised
to get through it. Into the second lap and one of our good runners was going
backwards fast. Something clearly wasn’t right. I later found out he had rolled
his ankle within a few seconds of the start. Rotten luck. That was his day
pretty much over. Three men down. Then another one of our guys pulled out of
the race. Four men down. Things weren’t going great… but we kept fighting and
kept running…
After that, I didn’t exactly make much progress in the race. I usually
pace myself really well at the Ulsters and come through strongly in the second
half of the race. People who have gone out too hard start to slow a bit in the
second half, and I usually make up quite a few places in the second half
because I’m able to maintain or slightly increase my pace. This time, I thought
I had gone out at a pace that would allow me to do the same, but I just didn’t
have the fitness or strength to perform as I would have wanted, so I just
fought and struggled through. What I had remembered as “flat” sections from
last year had turned into uphill gradients this year. It was like running
through quicksand.
On the final lap I got word from our supporters that Aaron was leading. I
was surprised, but at the same time I wasn’t surprised at all. He wouldn’t have
been one of the pre-race favourites, but he ended up winning. Ulster champion. Great
going. I had a very mediocre run, 5 minutes down on my time from last year.
Partly this was due to the worse conditions, but there’s no disguising the fact
that I wasn’t fully in shape. I was 2 minutes off the winning time last year,
and 4 and a half minutes away this year.
I had been deluding myself that one good hill session last week would
mean I’d have a good run. Get real, John. You need several months of
consistent, focussed running training to do well at the Ulsters. From the point
of view of not peaking too soon, things are going well, but it hurt to turn out
for the club and run so poorly. As a club, we took team bronze medals and I was
fifth scorer for the club, but pretty much by default. I didn’t take a huge
amount of satisfaction from it.
It had been a great run from Aaron, who has really put himself on the map
now. Hopefully he will crack on and have a very good season. I’ve been saying
that this year will be my last year at Ironman, however the year goes.
Hopefully it will go well and I will have something to show for everything that
has gone into it since 2010. But this year, it’s time to call time on Ironman,
for lots of reasons. It was probably time in 2015. It takes a lot of time and
money, there has to be more to life than battering away on the turbo trainer in
my room for hours on end. When I stop doing triathlons and sell the bike, I
want to move on with life and get out of London. I would hope to to give the
running another good go before I get too old. It would be good to get involved
in a running club again. Then I would hope to get in a couple of years of
focussed running, to see what I can do. Running training would take up a lot
less time than Ironman training. I’ll take inspiration wherever I can get it,
and I’ll take it from Aaron winning the Ulsters. Could I get as good as that? I
don’t know. Is it arrogant to even ask the question? Is that even the right
question to ask? Should the question not be: could I at least give it a proper
bloody go? Well, definitely… I just need to get through one more season of
Ironman first…
Training done this week was as follows:
Mon 15 Feb: Rest
Tue 16 Feb: 30 min turbo (5 x 30 seconds hard)
Wed 17 Feb: 30 minute run
Thu 18 Feb: Rest
Fri 19 Feb: 15 minute run
Sat 20 Feb: 44:51 (Ulster cross country, Lurgan Park)
Sun 21 Feb: Swim 2.5km
Tue 16 Feb: 30 min turbo (5 x 30 seconds hard)
Wed 17 Feb: 30 minute run
Thu 18 Feb: Rest
Fri 19 Feb: 15 minute run
Sat 20 Feb: 44:51 (Ulster cross country, Lurgan Park)
Sun 21 Feb: Swim 2.5km
Totals: Swim 2.5km, Bike 10 miles, Run 15 miles
Visiting combined with a quick trip to the Lough Neagh Lough Shore Park in Antrim at dusk
The Dunlop Memorial Gardens in Ballymoney, for Joey and Robert Dunlop,
local motorbike racers who were killed in action. The film "Road" is a hell of a watch.
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