Post 170 - Scottish duathlon championships 2019

It was a quick turnaround after the Grangemouth 10K, with a week before the Scottish duathlon championships in Stirling. Grangemouth had been a tough, fast run, and my legs were sore for a few days. I had one complete day of rest on Monday, then did bike intervals on Tuesday. On my old friend, the turbo trainer. I was pleased enough with the consistency of this session, with my 8 sets of 3 minutes hard and 2 minutes easy getting progressively tougher from 301 watts up to 326 watts, on tired legs. Looking back at this, I needed to be starting off at 320 watts and finishing at 350-360 watts. It was too easy to use the excuse of tired legs. I did a fartlek run the next day and my legs were still fatigued.

That would be all my tough training before Stirling, I didn’t have the legs for anything more anyway… I swam 4300 yards the next evening (3932m) at 1:43.9/100m (i.e. a 65 minute pool ironman swim, which is decent given that it was just an easy swim). With a wetsuit that would be a few minutes quicker, and because it was just an easy swim, my heart rate was only around 130bpm at the end.

The next couple of days were almost “wasted” days, resting up, taking hot baths, stretching, trying to free up my sore left hip, treating the callouses on my feet, and doing just enough easy training to keep things ticking over, and then it was early to bed on Saturday night.

And so it was a 5am alarm on race day. I do not enjoy these early starts for multi-sport races. Porridge down the hatch. Car loaded. Off to Stirling university – the race venue for the Scottish national duathlon championships. It was to be a nice day – sunny and warm, but I should be finished by 10:30am, before it gets too hot. Registration, bike racked, change into race gear, warm up. Legs feeling neither brilliant nor terrible.

To the start line. Could I win this? I was third last year, a bit of a shock result for me, the first time I’d ever ridden my “new” second-hand bike. I outran an elite and a pro last year. Neither of those two who’d beaten me were starting this year. Could I win this? I hoped to at least challenge.

The race started. One guy went off like a 100m sprinter. I let him go. If that was his pace, he’d either win it or blow up. One other guy went with this pace then dropped back. I was in third. My first mile was too quick, but I knew some of the guys behind me, who may make time up on the bike, I wanted to get a gap. I thought I would be unlikely to lose any positions when I finished the bike, given that my running in multi-sport events is generally strong.

My pace settled to around 5:30 per mile on the undulating, trail-type course (maybe equivalent to 5:20-5:25 on tarmac). I started to catch the guy in second, and was almost on his tail into transition. I beat him through transition, and was second off on the bike. The leader was long gone. The win wasn’t on. A podium was on though and it would be good to go one better than last year.

I initially felt decent on the bike. But I was a little concerned that my power was slightly down. I didn’t want to push any harder, and told myself that the warmer temperatures weren’t helping. I made sure to hydrate well, and to keep nice and tucked and tight and aero on the fast course. It was the same as last year – second place on the first lap of the bike. And so passed the first lap. Coming through the grounds of Stirling university wasn’t a lot of fun – speed bumps, twists, turns, undulations – none of which were enjoyable on a time trial bike.

Exiting the university, being overtaken. Just like last year. A glance back told me that there was a bit of a peloton of maybe 6 or 7, hunting for the podium. No-one pulled away from me though, and on the second lap of the bike it looked like anyone’s chance. I thought that if I could keep pace with this group and finish the bike with them, I should be strong enough on the run to challenge for a podium place.

My bike legs started to fade in the final quarter of the bike. I somehow forced myself to keep pace with the leaders until the final uphill kick before the university, when my lack of power started to show and people pulled away. They were merciless/brave/crazy going through the university, over all the speed bumps, round the twists and down the hills. I lost nearly a minute in the final few miles. Bummer. I came into transition alone. Ran down to rack my bike. Unclipped my helmet. Still plenty to run for, as the final run is usually my strongest point. Bent over to undo my shoes. Stood up. To final a marshal in my face…

Oh noooooo… What had I done? “Do you know why I’m stopping you?” I had no idea. I’d kept all the rules. Had kept out of all the draft zones. Had been fair. Hadn’t crossed any white lines or broken the highway code. I hoped a motorbike official hadn’t seen anything at the wrong moment, such as me going into someone’s draft zone to overtake them – wrong time, wrong moment. Something like this was possible but a penalty in such circumstances would be really harsh as you’re allowed 20 seconds in the draft zone to make a pass, but a motorbike official might only have a few seconds of a glance. Plus a whole peloton had hunted me down – even if you’re not drafting in a peloton, you still get benefits by being in a group.

I had no idea. I just gaped at her. “You undid your helmet clip before you racked your bike…” I was gobsmacked. I couldn’t argue, if that’s what she had seen me do. I thought it a bit of a petty rule. There are quite a few such rules in triathlon. Oh well, that’ll be a 2 or a 4 minute penalty then. Bang goes my race. “Carry on,” she said. Eh?! Carry on?! She wasn’t penalising me, and I legged it out of transition.

Within the first few hundred metres I knew my running legs just weren’t there. The heat? Maybe? Overcooking the bike? Maybe? Overcooking the first run, leading to a bad bike fade? Yes. Simply not doing enough bike training? Yes also. Oh well. Run like mad and see what happens. I could see the boys ahead. They weren’t coming back as quick as they usually do. I was suffering. It was getting warm. The mind was willing the body to run strongly. The body wasn’t complying.

Illustrating why I get painful callouses under my little toes -
look at where and how my foot is landing and impacting

I managed to pass a couple of guys but knew the podium was gone. And in the end I came in fifth. I might have come in fourth without the chat with the marshal in transition (there was only a 6-second gap to fourth). The gap to second was just over a minute. I would say I had it in me to be second on the day with what I had. The win definitely wasn’t on. But had I ran more conservatively in the first 10K run, I’d have finished the run with the group who then caught me after 20K on the bike, and I could then have biked with this group (legally of course, not drafting), probably finished the bike with this group, and had better legs for the final run.

I couldn’t help but compare it with last year, where I’d gotten the absolute maximum out of myself on the day. The pace of the first run last year was quite conservative, I had done more bike training and was able to hold a higher bike power, and had much better legs for the second run. Or so it felt. Looking back at the data, the first run this year was significantly faster, the bike power was down by around 15-20 watts, with a big fade in the final 5 miles, bizarrely my average bike speed was slightly higher this year, and even though my second run felt terrible, it was actually a little bit faster than last year.

Still, no disguising the fact that my bike, and my race overall, were disappointing. I hadn’t respected the race enough. I hadn’t done the work on the bike. I’d maybe been a bit too arrogant. An hour on the bike is very different to a sprint distance’s half-hour and I think I am better at the sprint distances.

I went for a warm-down with two of the girls from the club and they dropped me, left me for dead. I had nothing in my legs. By the time I got back after the warm-down, it was hot, and a rumour was circulating that the winner had been disqualified for taking the racing line round the S-bends at the far end of the course, and cutting across the central white line. We had been strongly told that doing this would “at best result in disqualification and at worst would result in death…” This would bump me up to fourth, and if anyone ahead of me wasn’t a formal member of the British/Scottish Triathlon federation, I’d be up to third. I’d win a few quid, a national medal, and a “big bobble hat” – I was really keen on these – Big Bobble Hats were sponsoring hats for all the podium finishers and sometimes for me it’s the little things that motivate.

No such luck though, the winner was announced as the winner “after an emotional morning” (whatever that meant) and I was left a bit disappointed, demoralised and demotivated by a poor performance and a lack of direction going forwards. The duathlon was the final target race before the “ironman summer.” I passed up on the chance to compete at the World Duathlon Championships in Spain next week – it was in a remote corner of north-west Spain and I decided it was too costly a trip and too awkward a trip, and wouldn’t leave enough time before the ironman. Hopefully my performance in this year’s Scottish duathlon championships will qualify me for next year’s world duathlon championships in Amsterdam/Almere – a much easier trip.

Part of my demotivation is that I don’t really know what I’m going to do next. Every decision I’ve made has been for the ironman. I haven’t entered it yet. A huge part of me doesn’t want to do it. The terrible, suffering training. The awfulness of the race, and the race venue. The expense. The likelihood of getting nothing to show for another ruined summer. And yet I feel I have to do it, to apply everything I’ve learned, to give it one more crack, roll the dice one more time – there’s nothing more I can learn after this one. It won’t be happening again. Oh well. Hopefully by the time I next write a blog post, I’ll have entered the race and be committed to it and a bit more upbeat about it.

Training done was as follows: 

Post 169 - End of my running season...

Following the Scottish Road Relays, I had a bit of a shock at the hospital. I dislocated my shoulder and broke my hand nearly 2 years ago in a bike crash, and I have been rehabilitating both consistently (and tediously) ever since. I was lucky to have a good physio who understood the sporting side of things, and I’d been pushing both my physio and my consultant, saying that “good enough for average daily life of going to work and being able to sleep without pain” wasn’t really good enough for me, with my aspirations to compete at world championship level in triathlon and duathlon.

I’d had an invasive MRI arthrogram, injecting stuff into my shoulder to show up the interior in a scan. My physio had seen the results, maybe hadn’t interpreted them totally correctly, and assured me that when I went to discuss them with the consultant, he would simply say “there is no more we can do,” and that would be the end of the two-year process. My physio had even gone so far as to say I could dial the rehab right back.

So I was surprised when the consultant said “I can offer you surgery…” He was pretty neutral about this, said it was up to me, explained the possible risks versus the possible rewards. I kept questioning him. He explained there was humerus bone head damage and cartilage damage, which could be operated on. I kept questioning and questioning and he eventually said “it’s up to you, if you want it here’s my number, call any time in the next year.” And that was that. Food for thought. I don’t know what I’ll do, but if I do anything it will be in the off-season winter months when I don’t need to be riding bikes and swimming.

I looked ahead to the next running target, a 3K on Glasgow Green – a flat, fast out and back course along the Clyde. I really wanted to break 9 minutes. I started running the Aberdeen Proms 3K races way back in 2003, starting off at 10:30 or so, and over a few years saw this time decrease to 9:06, set in around 2005. I hadn’t run a 3k since. I hoped I could break 9. If I had ambitions to run the Grangemouth 10K in mid-April under 32 minutes, I’d need to be breaking 9 for the 3k.

So I turned up to Glasgow. It was windy. I was never going to be so comfortably under 3k that the conditions wouldn’t matter. So I was doubtful. It was fast running – I don’t usually race such short distances, and don’t really train for them either. I got into a race with a couple of others, letting the lead two go in the first half, reeling them in by the turn, pulling away from them after the turn, feeling reasonable, then having this bubble burst a bit with the Garmin beeping for the mile split. I knew what it needed to say, and it was just under 10 seconds down on this. I’d never make that up in the final 4 minutes. But I’d go as hard as I could.

The big yin on a big wall in Glasgow

I ended up fading a bit in the final quarter as the lack of speed training took its toll and the two overtook me. I just couldn’t stick it. I wasn’t quite sure where the finish was – it was quite an informal race with no big finish gantry or banner, so I couldn’t really time a sprint finish. The leader ran 9:03, I was third in 9:08. A bit disappointing, but there we go. A sub-9 is something to be achieved and worked for, so if I want to do it, I will have to work for it rather than just turning up without having trained specifically for it.

I was disappointed with the implications for the Grangemouth 10k in a couple of weeks. I’ve beaten sub-32 10k runners all winter in cross-country but now it didn’t look like I’d do it. I was also a bit disappointed that I won’t get another chance to do a 3k this year, if I am moving back to triathlon over the summer. I've started experimenting with running in tri shorts rather than the more traditional, baggier running shorts, and a tighter vest - this came from the ParkRun I did a month or so ago on Bere island in windy conditions, where the wind caused my shorts and vest to act like parachutes, with a definite slowing effect. I figure if I'm running at 10-11 mph, into a similar speed of wind, that's 22mph against me (comparable to cycling speeds), and you wouldn't dream of wearing baggy bike gear as it would slow you down so much.

Anyway – I looked ahead to the next target. The Grangemouth 10k, in 16 days. Time enough to get a decent training block in, and taper down for this one, as it was a big target for me. The day after the 3k was a nice day, I didn’t want to run too hard to let the legs recover, I planned a turbo but the weather was too nice so I took the bike over to Arthur’s seat and did 6 hill repeats (I suppose with half an eye on the Scottish duathlon championships, the week after Grangemouth). The session went reasonably well, with each repeat taking around 3:45, and averaging up to 360 watts. Not bad. I did a strong fartlek the following day, then my legs were really feeling it. I had to talk to myself about not getting carried away – I took the next day off, and the day after that very easily.

I got a last-minute sports massage too, in an effort to get the legs as good as possible. This was quite a big deal for me, as the last sports massage I had in summer 2014 literally nearly killed me, with both my legs turning septic – it also ruined that entire year’s work, trashed what I thought was a very good chance of qualifying for Kona and left me with a huge fear of any sort of sports massage. I survived this one, which was a big plus. I’ve no idea what happened the last time – dirty massage oil? Dirty hands? Me being on the edge? Who knows…

I didn’t want to stress the legs too much after the massage so rather than a hard run, I did a turbo tempo, again with an eye on the duathlon. 1 hour at 252 watts and 144bpm was a reasonable session (versus 1:06 at 286 watts in the duathlon last year, after a 10k run…) The next evening I went down to do three repeats of the full lap at the meadows (about 1.42 miles). The first two were good (7:15, 7:17). The third one was terrible (7:37). A bad lap and a dark mood. My feet were on fire and my legs had nothing.

I’ve got massive callouses on both of my feet, under my little toes. I have unusual (terrible) biomechanics that mean I land on a very small part of my foot right under my little toes, and huge callouses have built up, which get very painful when I run. I mean excruciating. On fire. Especially when I run fast in training, or race. I needed to sort this or I would be DNFing in Grangemouth (Did Not Finish). Cue emergency phone calls to podiatrists… I got an appointment and got the callouses pared back and got some foot cream and callous files. Hopefully this would help.

I did a cruisy swim, 4000 yards at 1:44/100m pace, with a pleasingly low heart rate at the end – replicating an ironman – if I go ahead with the ironman I am willing to sacrifice a few minutes in the swim for a lower heart rate starting the bike, which also means the pool training I do won’t be as intense, which means I’ll be fresher. I followed this with a better hill session, which gave me a boost, getting stronger throughout, with no foot pain. But I was only running hard for a minute at a time, with 2 minutes of recovery. I didn’t know how my scalped feet would react to a continuous hard run…

I did a great long slow run in the hills in the Scottish Borders the next day, running up and up and up, into the mist, into the snow, into the forest. It was a brilliant 80 minutes of running, with no speed or time pressures, up in the snow and mist. Unreal. Then it was “taper week”. A key session for taper week has become 4 x half a mile on Tuesday. My times for this were good, my feet were still sore but not as bad as they were, but I’d noticed now my hip was sore. It didn’t seem to be restricting my running, but I couldn’t bend over down my left side. Hopefully it will resolve itself. I did so much stretching and mobility work and self-massaging and tennis-balling (painful), so I tried to give it every chance.

I went out the following evening for an easy bike ride (the benefits of summer approaching, and brighter evenings), did a mini fartlek the next day, then Deirdre arrived. We did a Saturday ParkRun at Loch Ore (a really great location, blue skies, blue loch, nice easy running, fantastic) and a bit of a drive round Fife. My hip was playing up and my legs were a bit sore. I just started feeling like Grangemouth was slipping away, which was a shame – I’d been targeting this race all winter, I’d had the fitness to break 32, and now it was slipping away. Much like the 3K, Grangemouth would be my only chance at a 10K this year. Breaking 32 has been a 16-year target…

Nice place to run

Race day was windy. Another negative. I started going through scenarios. I’d start anyway, and I knew it was a 2-lap course, so if at 5K my hip was sore, my feet were sore, my time was down, I’d just bail out. I thought it wouldn’t be worth trashing my legs with the duathlon only a week away. I feel I can have a good crack at the duathlon – the running won’t be as flat-out (and therefore damaging) in the duathlon as in a standalone 10K. I was third last year in the Scottish duathlon championships, having never ridden my (“new” second-hand) bike on the road and having not done a great deal of bike training over that winter. This year, my running fitness is probably slightly better, and I’ve got a year of biking behind me, so I fancy a good crack at it.

I knew I needed 5:08 pace to break 32. It was break 32 or bust for me. The first two miles were perfect, tucked into a group, sheltering as much as possible from the wind, 5:09 and 5:07. My feet started to feel sore, but not agonisingly so. I got to halfway not quite on course for sub-32 but well on course for a PB (i.e. sub-32:52). I thought I’d rattle on as hard as I could and see what happened.

The group started to break up. One guy ran away – bravely into the wind. I couldn’t follow him, with a 5:19 slowest mile into the wind, and 5:12 and 5:14 either side of that. I was starting to catch a couple of runners who had started too fast. This was a good spur for me to keep going, and a sub-group of three formed as we passed the stadium with 3k to go. With 2k to go, one was dropping away, one was pulling away, and I was in the middle – being kept honest – with a guy ahead to focus on and keep as close as possible, and a guy behind to keep behind.

With hindsight, I had over-eaten the previous day and I started feeling that horrible urge. I hoped I could hold it, and hold my pace too. It didn’t give me any excuses as mile 6 was 5:05 and I ran strongly down the home straight inside the athletics stadium to post 32:17, a 35-second PB. I was really surprised, with an immediate trip to the toilet giving me time to reflect. Sub-32 would have been on if there had been no wind. I’m just about in shape to do it. But I’ll have to be content with 32:17, a new PB, finally bringing my 10K PB “into line” with my other PBs – for years my 10K PB had been my worst PB. And hopefully next year I will finally do it. Deirdre also ran a PB, 2 weeks before she will do the London marathon – good going.

And with that, my out-and-out running season ends. I will recover as well as I can for the Scottish duathlon championships, where I hope to have a good race. I keep talking about the ironman. Every decision I’ve made in the last 18 months has been with the ironman in mind.

And yet I can’t bring myself to enter it. It’s so much money, so high risk, all the eggs in one basket, it will be my sixth Ironman UK race and tenth ironman start, they aren’t all that exciting any more, Ironman UK in Bolton is not a great venue, logistics are a pain, they’ve changed the bike course this year to something the previous course record holder has described as awful/dangerous/terrible/shocking, it will “ruin” my summer (indeed the rest of 2019), it will hamper my performance at the world sprint and standard triathlon championships in September 2019, it will ruin my running (I could crack on with running and get those sub-9 and sub-32 times), but yet I feel that it’s now or never with the ironman. The timing will never again be as good as it is now.

Maybe one day soon I was actually bite the bullet and enter it…

Training done was as follows: