Sunday, July 12, 2015

Post 88 - Off the scale

All the training has been done at this stage. From a “training” point of view, all that’s left to do is keep myself ticking over, nothing too tough, just some easy swims, easy spinning and easy jogging. All low-risk. If anything goes wrong now, or if I get an injury, or pick up an illness or a bug, there’s no time left to recover from it. It’s quite a stressful time to be honest, all the work and training and time and effort and money and thinking and planning and everything else, it all comes down to one race weekend and one day where everything needs to be perfect. It’s not like I can try again “next week” if something goes wrong. Ironman racing, and trying to qualify for Kona, is pretty unforgiving; you can’t race them every week, for lots of reasons: physical, mental, logistical, and financial.

From an “everything else” point of view, I’ve been working on/thinking about the following: race weekend logistics, food planning and buying, cleaning my bottles, sorting out new tyres, organising a bike service, sorting out race nutrition, looking repeatedly at the long-range weather forecast and working out what race clothing I’ll wear, contacting the hotel to make sure I get a quiet room and to make sure they’ll be able to keep my food in their fridges and heat it up when I need it, drinking lots, taking beetroot juice shots, salting my food, trying to get as much sleep as possible, stretching, checking all my batteries are full and software is up to date for my power meter, heart rate monitor, bike computer and running watch, checking to make sure that all my “spares” are OK (spare tubes with valve extenders, tyre levers, pump, cartridges and adaptor), sorting out my elastic laces and making sure they are the right tightness, and making sure all the paperwork I need is in order. So much to think about. So much to sort out. 

Where my bike normally lives. Needs a pre-race service now...

Monday this week was a reasonable day, I got through work, went to the supermarket on the way home, bought loads of food, went home, cooked for the week, ate, watched the Tour de France, and went to bed. 13 days until Ironman. 

Tuesday was a bad day. Three guys at work who had been off on Monday were now back. Two had chest infections, and one had a snotty cold. All three sit within 2 metres of me. This was an absolute nightmare. Very difficult to deal with. From an immune system point of view, I’m probably on a knife-edge. I’m at my physical peak, and I’m likely very prone to picking up an illness or a bug, which would literally ruin my whole year. I’ve had enough years and races ruined in the past few years. I don’t want another disaster. I scheduled a few meetings in different parts of the office and stayed away from my desk as much as I could. I didn’t train on Tuesday night. 12 days until Ironman.

Wednesday was no better. Cough cough, hack hack, sneeze sneeze, snot snot. I was absolutely convinced that I was going to get sick. It was a dead cert. Sitting where I was, with two chest infections and one cold in very close proximity, I may as well have said to a doctor, “Inject me with chest infection germs and sneeze all over me…” I was going crazy. Probably the most stressed I've ever been. And I don't get stressed easily, I'm pretty resilient. Whether psychological, whether stress, or whether for real, I didn’t feel great going home after work on Wednesday. I did some easy training, seriously overdosed on the Vitamin C, and went to bed. Would I wake up sick the next morning? 11 days until Ironman…

Read the small print... hasn't happened to me yet...

I decided to take the rest of the week off work. This really is a unique circumstance that I am in, a once-in-a-lifetime thing, something I have worked so hard for, and something which has knocked me back time after time. I don’t want to be knocked back again. Going into work was going to seriously jeopardise it all. What would I do if I got a chest infection, or even a cold? I’d never forgive myself. So I stayed away. I hate being off work for no real reason. But that’s what I had to do. 

On Thursday I slept in, and I discovered that another colleague had called in sick. I guess I made the right decision. I did some more easy training: a 30-minute spin on the turbo trainer, and a 30-minute run on grass in the park. I stopped the run early as I could feel that my left knee didn’t quite seem to be 100%. Argh. For the next few days I would walk up and down stairs like a crab, avoiding putting weight through my left knee.

I was feeling pretty hacked off with wondering if I would get sick, not being in work, and now a knee that didn’t feel right. So I decided to give myself a natural boost and I went outside to sit in the sun. It was hot. I took my top off, thinking I’d get as much sun on my skin as possible. I’m usually very careful in the sun. I only spent about 30 minutes outside. And I got sunburned, on the tops of my shoulders. Argh. I didn’t realise until I took a shower later that evening and it hurt like crazy. To be fair, it wasn’t bad sunburn, it didn’t stop me from sleeping, but it was another thing I could have done without. I used loads and loads of E45 moisturising cream, and hoped for the best. 10 days until Ironman…

On Friday I used my time to sort out a few things. I searched through the bag that contains all my bike “ancillaries” and sorted out my spare tubes, valve extenders, bottle velcro, batteries and software updates. It all took ages. And my phone decided to pack it in halfway through a software update, and this took 2 hours on the phone with Apple’s customer services to put right. More hassle. 

Sorting tyres and tubes

I finally went for a swim later on Friday. As tough as the training is, it’s often the easy part… I swam a good warm-up, a 400m flat-out time trial, and a good warm-down, making 1500m in total. I swam the 400m in 5:42. I started off with a lane to myself, then after I had just started my 400m time trial, some slow fool decided he belonged in the fast lane, doing breaststroke and backstroke. He might have cost me a couple of seconds.

Still, 5:42 for 400m, not bad, I thought. Then I looked through my records and saw that I swam 400m in 2011 in 5:43. I was swimming 4 sessions per week and 10-15km per week back in 2011, and time constraints now mean that I manage only 2 swim sessions and 6-7km per week. I swam 57 minutes for the Ironman swim in 2011. Would I take a 57-minute Ironman swim next week? I probably would actually… 9 days until Ironman…

I finally got my Chartered Engineer certificates through in the post, from the Engineering Council and the Institution of Mechanical Engineers. The end of a long process, but let’s face it, I still have a career’s worth of learning ahead of me.


It would be a good couple of weeks if I could add a Kona slot to these certs

On Saturday I slept late again. I “only” spent two hours on the turbo, which passed very quickly compared to the 4 and 5 hour epics I have done earlier in the year. I started off at 130 watts (easy peasy) and built up to 240 watts after 70 minutes, then gradually ramped down again. Then I went for a very tentative run, hoping my knee would feel OK. Thankfully it held out. I had some very rare free time for the rest of Saturday, and I made sure I was sitting as much as possible. In front of the TV, inevitably. Tour de France and Wimbledon tennis were on the menu. At 9pm, a film came on. “Ted”. I wanted to watch it, I’ve wanted to see it for ages. What did I do? I went to bed, of course. 8 days until Ironman… it’s not often you only have 8 days until Ironman…

On Sunday I went to the pool and did a very easy 2km swim. Then I went to the shop and bought all of their flapjacks, and lots of lemons and limes. I drink lemon and lime juice, diluted with a bit of water. It’s good for your insides, and an additional benefit is that it also keeps the skin on your face nice and supple, due to the faces you pull when drinking it. “Gurning”, I think it’s called… 

Cool photo of the start of Ironman UK. The iconic mass swim start
is no more at Ironman UK, they are doing a land-based rolling start this year.
A couple of athletes will be released every second.
This means no warm-up in the water, and also that the faster swimmers will
probably be swimming over the top of the slower swimmers in the second lap.
And it means it's not really a "race" any more, but more like a 140.6 mile time trial.
It is what it is...

And that’s it. That has been my week. Not fun. I thought it would be an easy tapering week. And it has been an easy tapering week, but with so many curveballs thrown in. So much hassle and stress and stuff to deal with. I’ve dealt with it all though, I’ve got through the week, and only have a few more days to get through. 7 days until Ironman…

Training done this week:

Mon 6 July: Rest
Tue 7 July: Rest
Wed 8 July: 1 hour turbo
Thu 9 July: 30 min turbo, 25 min run
Fri 10 July: 1.5km swim (400m in 5:42)
Sat 11 July: 2 hour turbo, 25 min run
Sun 12 July: Swim 2km

Totals: Swim 3.5km, Bike 70 miles, Run 7 miles

Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Post 87 - Last tough training week

The last “tough” training week is now over, and all the training work is now done. From a training point of view, all that’s left to do is taper off and do some easy swimming, spinning and running to consolidate and keep myself ticking over. I made a decision at the start of this week that I wouldn’t train to quite the same intensity level as I would have done in a tough training week earlier in the year. There’s no point in risking anything and injuring myself, and I want the next two weeks to be spent tapering well, not recovering from training that was tougher than it needed to be. Saying that, I trained pretty hard this week, on what was easily the hottest week of the year.

Monday was the usual routine of go-to-the-shop, get home, cook a pile of food, eat and get-to-bed-as-soon-as-possible. The usual pasta, tomato sauce and turkey, jazzed up with peppers, onions, ginger, carrots, broccoli, garlic, turmeric and chilli. I never usually add salt to my food, but it was forecast to be very hot this week, which would mean more sweating, and I’d lose more salt in my sweat. So I added a bit of salt to my food this week. I’ll continue to do this through until the Ironman. I also made sure to drink lots.

That'll do for a few nights...

On Tuesday I tried a repeat of my FTP (functional threshold power) test. I did this test in June and averaged 324 watts for 20 minutes. I tried it again a couple of weeks ago but started off too hard and faded after 12 minutes. I tried it again this week. I have a thermostat in my room. It was reading 31 degrees C (90-odd F) as I was doing the test. There was no way to cool the room. Even with the windows open and my fan on full blast, it was all just roasting hot air circulating. A bit like Hawaii might be…

Hot...

The test didn’t go well. My guess is that it was simply too hot. To go as hard as I wanted to go in such heat, at over 170bpm for 20 minutes with absolutely zero cooling while sweating loads and losing electrolytes, was too much. I wanted “flat out” to be something like 330-340 watts. In such hot conditions, “flat-out” would have been around 320 watts. I guess earlier in the year when I did a successful FTP test, the temperature would have been well under 20C in my room. A big difference.

On Wednesday I went to the park and did a fartlek run. It was roasting hot on Wednesday as well. My dodgy Garmin watch has finally been replaced, and a new one arrived earlier in the week. I was keen to see if the new one worked any better. My fartlek run is one minute fast, one minute slow, repeated. The fast parts were sub-5 minute mile pace, the slow parts something like 8-9 minutes per mile. The Garmin seemed good. The taste in my mouth got saltier and saltier. There were a few people in the park, lounging in the shade under the trees. I’m sure they were watching me, wondering why I was running, and how mad I was…

Final tough turbo session. Ironman world champs on the laptop for inspiration...

On Thursday I did a good interval session on the bike: 2-minute tough intervals with 2 minutes of easy recovery. I alternated the hard intervals so that I was pedalling at a very fast cadence, and then at a very slow cadence, while maintaining a high power output for both the fast and the slow parts. It was a good session, helping with leg speed and form, but again it was very warm. On Friday I swam some 50m sprints, to work on pure swim speed. I did 20 sets of 50m, each in just under 40 seconds, with a slow 50m swim to recover, in around 1 minute. This was also a good session, followed by the final set of single-leg pedalling drills on the turbo before the Ironman. 

Salty shorts

I made a few purchases this week. I’ll start using my new swimming goggles – new ones give better vision and also are less likely to leak. I’ll wear in and wash in my new socks, as I think that blisters are mostly caused by old socks. Newer socks are softer and easier on the feet. I’ve got lots of beetroot juice now and I’ll take a shot of it every day until the Ironman – it is full of nitrates and these nitrates are supposed to help with endurance sport. I stocked up on energy bars and gels. Piles of quinoa too.

One shot of beetroot juice per day for the next 2 weeks... I'll take any edge I can get...

I also spent time fiddling around with/stressing over/effing and blinding at my bike. I wanted to take it out on the road on Saturday this week to see how it felt, and see what power outputs correspond with what heart rates. Apart from the Bristol triathlon, I haven’t had my triathlon bike on the road at all this year, and I haven’t been on the road at all with my power meter. The damned valve extenders were one problem to deal with. I have 80mm deep wheel rims (good for aerodynamics). Inner tubes with valves long enough for 80mm rims don’t exist (I don’t know why, this is beyond my comprehension).

So, you have to buy hellish valve extenders, break the thread on an existing inner tube valve, use plumber tape to taper up the threads, screw them together, and seemingly, hope for the best when pumping up the tyres. I’m sure I didn’t have anything like full pressure in my tyres at the Bristol triathlon. Despite having had them taped up last year, they had all come loose. Steve prevented me from completely losing the plot, and got them sorted out. So I was able to pump the tyres up hard. I have very little confidence in these awful extenders. Entire forum threads are devoted to discussing how terrible they are. And yet no-one will produce an inner tube with a single valve long enough for deep-rim wheels. I also spent ages reading up on the internet and watching videos about Zipp wheel hubs and bearings, how tight the bearings should be, and how much play should be in the rear wheel. It all seems a bit subjective to me, and another hassle I could do without.

I took the bike out into Kent on Saturday. It was hell. Bad roads, potholes, grit, glass, debris, traffic, pollution, junctions, traffic lights. It was literally the least enjoyable bike ride I’ve ever had, and one of the reasons why I’m getting out of London soon. I spent the entire 4 hours crapping myself. I was hardly able to get down into the aero position at all. I didn’t do much meaningful riding throughout the 4 hours, and so I didn’t get much meaningful data from my power meter, as I’d hoped I would. I followed the bike ride with a strong 60-minute run in the heat, at just over 7 minutes per mile, much faster than the Ironman pace I think I need to maintain.

The legs are quite ripped at this stage, at full fitness, at the peak.
Just let me get through the 2-week taper with no issues...

My tyres had been immaculate prior to this ride in Kent, almost brand new. After the ride they were cut up, so this means I’ll need new tyres. I can’t risk riding the Ironman on cut-up tyres and getting a puncture or a blow-out. That would put paid to qualification. But I don’t have a lot of time to get new tyres and find some way to get them worn in. Also, there was an awful creaking noise from my bottom bracket when I stood up on the pedals. I’ll need to get this sorted out too, and again I don’t have a lot of time in which to do it. I’m sure I’ll figure something out, but it’s another hassle I could do without.

Sunday morning saw me in the pool doing drills with my hand paddles, pull buoy and rubber band. Sunday lunchtime saw me watching the Formula 1, doing my ironing, and eating my lunch. Sunday afternoon saw me do a short 40 minute run, with 2 x 10 minutes at around 5:30 per mile. I was going to do 3 of these intervals, but decided that two would be enough, there was no point in hurting my legs (or worse) with two weeks until race day. My replacement Garmin watch seems to be functioning well. Sunday late afternoon saw me watching the final kilometres of Stage 2 of the Tour de France, and Sunday evening saw me grunting and grimacing on the physio table, having work done on my back and glutes. 

Good timing, back from my Sunday run just as this was starting...

And that was my final tough training week. Now it’s just two weeks of tapering left, plus getting everything organised, sorting out the bike, tweaking equipment, sleeping as much as possible, drinking lots of water and beetroot juice, salting my food, carbo-loading, and hoping for the best. I’ve done the absolute best I could with the circumstances available up to now, and as such I believe that I have a legitimate case to hope for the best on race day. I look forward to actually getting on the start line and getting on with the race, because at that point, there really is nothing more that can be done, changed, thought about etc. The only thing left when on the start line will be to race… Hopefully the weather will be kind. No rain, not too hot, not too windy, and a bit overcast would do nicely…

Training done this week was as follows:

Mon 29 June: Rest
Tue 30 June: 1 hour turbo (20 min FTP)
Wed 1 July: 30 min fartlek run
Thu 2 July: 1:30 turbo (10 x 2 mins hard/slow, easy, hard/fast, easy)
Fri 3 July: Swim 3k (20 x 50m fast, 50m slow: 0:40/1:00), 1:05 turbo (10 x 2 mins R/L/B)
Sat 4 July: 4 hour bike, 60 min run
Sun 5 July: Swim 3.3k (paddle drills), 40 minute run (2 x 10mins hard)

Totals: Swim 6.3km, Bike 145 miles, Run 20 miles

Monday, June 29, 2015

Post 86 - Getting my back back

The first part of this week was horrendous. The lower left area of my back was really sore. Normally I’m flexible enough to touch my toes and get the palms of my hands flat on the ground. But with my back the way it was, with the pulled muscle and pain that came with it, I could barely bend over and get my hands past my knees, never mind touch my toes. Not what I wanted, a few weeks out from Ironman. I had no idea how it was going to pan out. Maybe it would be fine in a few days. Maybe it would take weeks. Maybe it would happen again, but worse, if I wasn’t careful. I just didn’t want to have to deal with it, and wished it hadn’t happened. But happen it had, and deal with it I had to.

Des at Phases Sports Therapy was very good and agreed to see me on Monday night after work. So, after work, I went home, made food for the week, ate, and got to his place by 8:45pm. Des worked and worked and worked on my back. Everything was tight, and all this tightness probably contributed to pulling the muscle. The tightness, combined with the unusual rotation when I went to grab my heart rate monitor strap, was enough to overstretch a muscle in my back and make it go “twang”. 

The physio treatment was pretty sore, but Des worked all over my back, right up to my neck, trying to loosen things out as best he could. I just lay there grunting and gritting my teeth, dealing with the pain, trying to ask questions when I could. And that was my Monday night. Usually Mondays are rest days and early-to-bed days, but by the time I had finished with the physio work, waited for trains, got home and got to bed, it was after midnight. Normally I’m in bed for at least 8 hours per night. Getting up at the normal time the next day would have meant only 6 hours. I decided I’d go into work an hour later (fortunately I can arrive to work any time before 9am), so it meant that I got 7 hours.

Except I didn’t really get 7 hours. I barely slept on Sunday night, the first night with the sore back. Monday wasn’t much better. I like to sleep well. I need to sleep well. And I’d just had two nights of bad sleep, and two stressful days. I was really not happy, wondering if my year was falling apart, wondering if the wheels were coming off. This week was supposed to be the first week of my final tough 2-week training block. I wasn’t sure what to do. I could walk, I could move around, I could still turn my head and look behind me, I just could not bend over at all. I didn’t want to not train, but I also didn’t want to make my back worse by training. I talked to Des, and his feeling was that I could try to cycle as long as I didn’t bend over in the aero position. Any pain, any issues, and I should stop. So I tried, and I sat upright on the bike, and I seemed to get away with it. I did 2 x 20 minute intervals and my back didn’t really restrict me when pedalling. So that was positive.

"Nutrition Corner" in my room is getting bigger, but I couldn't bend over to reach it this week

When I got off the bike, my back felt a bit tighter and I struggled to get my shoes and socks off. Really struggled. I couldn’t bend over and reach down that far. I had a long, hot shower. This helped. But I couldn’t properly dry my feet. Again I didn’t sleep too well as any movement would trigger pain, and I’d wake up. That was 3 nights in a row of terrible sleep.

I normally do a short fartlek run on Wednesday evening. Cycling is one thing: I seemed to have gotten away with the bike on Tuesday night. But cycling is low impact. Running is different. There’s a lot of impact that goes through the body when running. I usually do my Wednesday evening runs on grass. I decided to try. It was quite a tentative run. But, I seemed to get away with it. I seemed to be able to bend over a bit further. Then I made another trip to see Des.

This time, he got really deep into my back. It was bloody hard to take. Really clenching the teeth. He went all over my back, shoulders and neck, starting gently, warming the muscles up, then getting in deeper and deeper. Ouch. He found a couple of knots in my shoulder muscles, and tried to get rid of them. Ouch again. He seemed quite optimistic that the problem would heal quickly enough to allow me to get some more quality training done before the Ironman. But it’s not an exact science, I guess no-one can say for sure. After the treatment, I was wrecked. I really had to peel myself off that treatment table. 

Des showed me a few exercises and stretches to do in my own time, to help to stretch out my back and glutes. One exercise involved putting a tennis ball under my backside, and putting all my weight through one ass cheek, and thus through the tennis ball. I’d support myself with my arms, which would control the amount of weight going through the tennis ball. Then I’d roll the tennis ball all around my glute. Des told me to try it. “This will feel like sticking a big hot knife into your arse…” Ouch. Again, it was midnight before I got to bed. The next day, Garmin finally agreed to replace the faulty watch, which caused me to twist around to try to sort out my heart rate monitor strap, which caused the whole problem in the first place.

Also, the next day, I had a serious headache. I felt pretty rough. I texted Des – is this normal? He thought I’d be suffering today, because it had been a tough treatment session the night before. I’m not used to massage anyway, and deep massage flushes out all sorts of toxins from the muscles and into the bloodstream for processing by the liver and kidneys. So, my body was dealing with a lot, and also diverting energy to the offending area of my back to repair it. A sore head and dehydrated feeling were temporary side-effects from the massage. A reminder of what a hangover feels like – I haven’t had one of those for a long, long time…

I questioned whether or not to do anything on Thursday evening after my rough day, or whether to just go straight to bed. In the end, I did some repeats on the turbo trainer, still in an upright position. I got away with it. By Friday, the hung-over feeling had gone away and I felt better. My back felt like it was moving in the right direction too. I had a tentative swim on Friday evening, got away with it, and then had an early night.

A good Friday night, and a good Saturday morning... living the dream...

On Saturday I did 3 hours on the turbo trainer, with about half the time spent in the aero position, bent over. I followed this with a jog. On Sunday, I was feeling like I was going to get away with everything, and that my back wasn’t going to get worse. I was able to bend over almost as far as I usually can, there wasn’t much pain, and I wasn’t really having to restrict my training, apart from weights and core work. I didn’t dare to lift a weight or try a squat. Next week, I’ll try to get back to my core work, but for now I’m holding off on it, I don’t want to risk it just yet.

I got through a 4.1km swim on Sunday morning, and an easy 11 mile run at 7:10/mile, mostly on grass. My mood was lifted by some “juice”, thanks to Steve…

Bike fuel, awesome stuff, secret recipe, could sell for lots of money

 My mood was also lifted by final confirmation that I have passed my engineering Chartership qualification, which I have been working towards for years. I’m glad it’s over, it has been a lot of work. Also, when I travel with work to various factories and fabrication yards, I am responsible for filling out safety cards and then handing them in on my return to the office. The following safety card found its way into my pie of safety cards, written by someone who noticed that I kept refusing the cake part of the lunches we are provided… Good thing I checked the pile of safety cards before submitting them, as it was signed as if written by me...

SET stands for Safe, Effective, Trouble-free.
Not eating piles of cake helps triathlon training to be SET.
To the amusement of colleagues, I cracked on day 3 of a site visit,
and ate two bits of cake. I was very, very hungry...

After training on Sunday, I then went back to see Des for more physio work. We were both pleased with progress, and my back had loosened a lot. Thank goodness for that. I’ll continue to be careful and hope for the best. But I feel much more positive now than I did 7 days ago, it really was a low couple of days, in pain, not knowing how bad it was and how quickly or slowly my back would get better. I’ll hope for one final normal unrestricted week of training and then a 2-week taper. I'm still extremely wary of my back, but if I can get through one more tough week without any issues or twinges, then it'll help to build up come confidence in my back again, ad then that's time up, the Ironman is looming large. No more margin left. The Tour de France, is looming large too, it starts next week. It’s shaping up to be an exciting race, and when the Tour is all over, the Ironman will be all over too. There are no yellow jerseys in Ironman racing, but I’ll settle for a trip to Hawaii…

Training done this week:

Mon 22 June: Rest
Tue 23 June: 1:05 turbo (2 x 20mins: 301W/163bpm, 303W/171bpm, 4 min recovery)
Wed 24 June: 30 minute fartlek run
Thu 25 June: 1:05 turbo (20 x 1min hard/1 min easy, up to 400 watts)
Fri 26 June: Swim 3km (10 x 200m in 3:00-3:04, 20 second recovery)
Sat 27 June: 3 hour turbo, 25 min run
Sun 28 June: Swim 4.1km, 80 minute run

Totals: Swim 7.1km, Bike 115 miles, Run 20 miles

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Post 85 - Torturous

Monday 22nd June, 6:00pm. I’m suffering from the torturous mental hell that this Ironman qualification business has put me through many times in the past couple of years. People often wonder, “How can you do all that training?” But the reality is that often the training is the easy bit, compared to everything else that you have to deal with and manage and work around. I’m not in a good mood today, it has been a crap week. No point in trying to sugar-coat it. Sunday 21st June was the longest day of the year, the middle of summer, and my crappest day of the year. The rest of the week wasn’t much better. The word “crap” will probably be used a lot in the paragraphs to come, but I could use a lot worse…

I survived the Bristol triathlon with no problems, no sore legs, and no injuries. The off-road 10K run would have helped with this. I put in a decent effort at Bristol, so I was a bit worried about getting sick after it. I know my fitness is peaking, and with that peak comes the knife-edge: everything is stressed – the body and the immune system. Everything becomes more stressful too – how hard to train? Am I getting enough sleep? Am I going to get sick? How can I maximise my chances of staying fit and healthy? Anyway, after Bristol I seemed fine, which was a good thing.

I had to travel to the Midlands this week with work. It was a tough trip to make. But I’m a dedicated professional, this is part of my job, and this is what I have to do. I didn’t even have the chance to properly “clear up” after Bristol, and wash my stuff, get everything dried, put away, and get back on top of things. It’s hard enough at the best of times to stay on top of cleaning and washing and cooking and so on.

Not many hours after Bristol, I was crammed onto a crappy, grossly overcrowded, manky, noisy, hot train. For nearly 3 hours. The last place I wanted to be. Every sniff, every cough, every sneeze (and there were many) horrified me. I know that after a race, after 2 hours of effort, you are depleted for a few days. “At risk”, if you like. So I was in a crap state on the train. Didn’t want to be there. At all. At least I had a seat. But I had some overseas tourist’s arse in my face for half the journey while he argued in broken English with some posh old woman who maintained that him standing with his folded-up buggy in the aisle was a safety hazard. “No-one would be able to get off the train in an emergency”, she moaned. Yeah, like ramming 5000 people into a carriage designed for 80 isn’t going to cause problems… I’m sure they were both coughing and sneezing too.

The poor guy literally couldn’t move, his partner and young child were sharing a seat. He couldn’t put his buggy anywhere, it was too big for the racks, and he couldn’t squeeze past anyone else to take it down to one of the vestibules. After the 3-hour nightmare was over, I got off the train.

Here are some of the things I was thinking (toned down a bit) over the next 3 days, being away from home, staying in a hotel, relying on others for food, and attending supplier meetings:

“I hate this train, and everyone that sniffs or sneezes or splutters.” “I hate this manky taxi.” “One day I’ll have a car.” “I wish I could eat my own food.” “I hope whoever was in this hotel room before me wasn’t sick.” “I hope these pillows aren’t going to make me sick.” “Why does this hotel room smell so bad?” “This hotel room is hot and noisy.” “What if this omelette/steak/fish/whatever else I ate isn’t cooked right and makes me sick?” “I’m not drinking enough water.” “How many times can I leave these meetings to go to the toilet without people thinking I have a serious medical problem?” “Do I even care if people think I have bladder issues…?” “I hate standing, and I have to stand for the next 4 hours.” “This standing is going to wreck my back and knees.” “I need some protein.” “I need some (lots) of fruit and raw veg.” “The air-conditioning in this meeting room is going to make me sick.” “I’m freezing.” “Why is that guy coughing and sitting 3 feet away from me?” “Please stop coughing over me.” “I’m hungry.” “I’m still hungry.” “I’m so hungry.” “I just want some proper food.” “I want to go to bed at 8pm, but I haven’t even ordered dinner yet.”

And, unbelievably, just as I was about to order dinner in the restaurant of the hotel:

“Is that a fire alarm?” “That IS a fire alarm…” “Is it a test?” “No, they are telling us to evacuate!” “Look at all that smoke, it’s the kitchen, the kitchen is on fire…” “I’m HUNGRY and I want my dinner, NOW…” “Why am I now standing in the street, surrounded by people drinking and smoking, when all I want is pasta and sleep…” “Will I even have somewhere to sleep tonight if the hotel is on fire?” The fire brigade arrived and I went elsewhere for dinner. I doubt it was a very big fire as when I got back, everything was back to normal and business as usual at the hotel/restaurant/bar. People in full swing, boozing away. I went to bed and hoped for the best.

It actually went on fire and everyone was evacuated.
It was much less dramatic than it looked...

I did manage one short run when I was away, down along a riverside path to a distinctive footbridge over the River Severn, with the Malvern Hills in the background. It was probably the highlight of my week, running in natural surroundings. I even brought my phone with me to take a photo or two:



The train journey back on Thursday evening wasn’t much better. The trip away had been pure mental torture, but it had to be done. This is an Ironman blog, and I write about things to do with training. No doubt, the past couple of months have been tough in terms of travelling. Normally I like travelling. But I’m throwing everything at the Ironman this year, I have to make it happen. If and when I am not doing Ironmans, things will be easier.

Trip over, and I was looking forward to an uninterrupted 4-week run-in to the Ironman. Given that I had spent the week after the Bristol triathlon not training very hard in the Midlands, in theory I felt like I should have been well rested by the weekend. So I decided to do another 20-minute benchmark FTP (functional threshold power) test on the turbo trainer. I did one in March this year, 3 months ago, and hit 324 watts for 20 minutes, giving an FTP for one hour of 307 watts. My Ironman pacing will be based on my FTP value, so I wanted to get an up-to-date reading. I thought Saturday would be a good day to do it as I’d be well rested. I expected to have a higher value than in March, hopefully all the training would result in an improvement.

On Saturday I felt a bit diarrhific (if that’s a word – if it’s not, it is now!) I didn’t feel great, I had diarrhoea all day, and I just felt a bit wiped out and dehydrated. Nothing too terrible, but nothing too great either. I don’t know why I felt this way. Maybe an after-effect from the trip away, maybe something else, I don’t know. Anyway, decided to get on with it, the FTP test is only a short effort (but a very sharp one), and I didn’t think I would do any harm in trying. I stretched and did a warm-up on the turbo trainer, and did a few 1-minute intervals at what I thought was FTP level. I was hitting 340-350 watts, and felt reasonable. After 40 minutes of warming up, it was time to start. I averaged 347 watts for the first 6-7 minutes, but by this stage my heart rate was over 180bpm, and I knew the rest of the test was going to be horrendous. Actually, I knew at this stage the test was a failure, but I kept battering on, delaying the inevitable. I’d started too hard, or maybe shouldn’t even have bothered with the test, given how wiped out and dehydrated I was feeling.

I knew what was coming. A gradual drop-off in power. Down to 330 watts. Then 320. When I slipped to 310 watts, I called it a day, after about 14 minutes. No point in continuing, the test was a write-off. It should be a consistent power output, ripping through the final 10 minutes, not fighting a losing battle to maintain something that is too tough to maintain.

A crap photo of a crap graph of a crap FTP test

Even this crappy test wasn’t all that bad in the grand scheme of things – I wasn’t too bothered, it wasn’t an essential session as I still have a few weeks to repeat the test, and I’ll know to start off at 330 watts rather than 340+. Probably I’ll be able to average 330-340 watts if I feel better and pace it better. My heart rate should only be hitting 180 in the final few minutes, not after 5 minutes.

As crappy as the week had been up to Saturday evening, Sunday was much, much crapper. The crappest day since hospital last year. The week was meant to be an innocuous, easy week, allowing me to be fresh for two final tough weeks of training before a 2-week taper leading into Ironman UK. On Sunday I planned an easy 30-minute run. Extremely innocuous. My Garmin watch (Forerunner 220) has been playing up for a while and not displaying my heart rate correctly. I wear a chest strap heart rate monitor – when I’m on the bike, my bike computer shows the right reading. When I get off the bike to start an immediate run in training, my heart rate might be 150bpm. By the time I start to run, it would probably have dropped to 120-130. Running at Ironman pace would take it back to about 140. My running watch always shows 180. No way that is right. I’ve been communicating with Garmin to try to resolve this, but no joy yet.

During my easy 30-minute run, my heart rate was again apparently at 180, if I was supposed to believe my watch. Completely wrong. It wasn’t a cheap watch. It should work, dammit. I got a bit ratty and swore at the damn thing. I went to adjust the strap around my chest to see if this would make any difference. Then I thought I’d take it off and lick the sensors – they need to be damp to work properly. I knew this wouldn’t make any difference, as I’ve tried this many times before, to no avail. I shouldn’t have bothered. I realised I couldn’t lick the sensors without unclipping the strap, and I couldn’t unclip without slowing down to a walk. So as I was decelerating and twisting to the right to reach the strap’s clip under my right armpit, I felt something go in my back. Right down in my lower back, where my pelvis is. Sh!t… I knew straight away it wasn’t good.

The rest of the day was a nightmare. I took quite a few anti-inflammatory tablets (I hate taking tables, and really really didn’t want to take any tablets, but this was desperate), I got a heat pack onto my back, and spent the rest of the day lying on my bed with this heat pack, trying gingerly to stretch out my back and ending up nearly in tears when it was so excruciatingly and acutely painful that I couldn’t even bend over to touch my knees, never mind toes. Not good. I took a long, hot shower. I took the shower head and sprayed a long hot blast onto my lower back. I got back on the bed, on all fours, put my arse in the air, and wiggled around to try to loosen my back. It wasn’t funny. I kept using the heat pack. It really wasn’t good at all. Such a bloody stupid thing to have happened, such an innocuous awkward half-step to unclip the stupid strap because my watch doesn’t work.

All sorts of dark thoughts were flying through my mind for most of Sunday. I hope that this isn’t my year starting to fall apart. I have no idea how it will play out. This has happened to me before, a couple of months into 2014, my back locked up completely. It was even worse back then, I couldn’t even turn my head. The same problem though, rooted in my lower back. Obviously some sort of imbalance or issue there. A physio I saw last year, on first glance at my back, wasn’t too impressed, and I later found out that his first thoughts were: “John’s back is f*cked….” The same physio said that I could find 15 minutes in an Ironman if I got all my biomechanics sorted out. For whatever reasons this year, I haven’t managed to sort out a regular physio slot. I know that if I compete beyond 2015, then this is another gain I can make.

To be fair though, bad as it is, it wasn’t as bad as last year. It had eased a bit by the time I went to bed on Sunday, but I didn’t sleep much. I’ll plan to see a physio as soon as possible during the week, and all I can do is hope like crazy that it will loosen up quickly and won’t affect my training plans for the next two weeks. It doesn’t give me a lot of confidence though. All I want is a fair crack at the Ironman, and no worries going into it. I don’t want to be crapping myself about whether or not my back will hold out. For now, all I can do is try to see a physio and hope for the best. This Ironman world championship business is a damn tough thing. It could seriously drive a person crazy. I’ve learned though that all you can do is your best, and then if you do that, all you can do is legitimately hope for the best… but there are no guarantees.

An interesting statement I heard this week was: “John is a very competent Ironman…” Ha. I wasn’t sure if this was deserved. OK, I might be reasonably fit. I might work hard at it. I might even say that I have some small degree of experience in Ironman racing now, having started 5 of them. I believe I have it in me to qualify for Kona. But I have never produced a good Ironman race. Stuff has always gone wrong in the build-up, or in the race. I’m not sure this is a mark of competence. I think I have it in me to be a competent Ironman athlete, but I haven’t done anything yet to warrant the tag of “competent Ironman.” I’ve been learning the hard way over the past few years, and I believe I have learned enough over the past couple of years to know what I need to do to execute a competent race, but I need to get to the start line in one piece to be able to do that, I’ve fought and battled and fought some more to try to make it happen, and now, a few weeks before the race, things have gone astray. Again. Argh… I hope that next week I am writing about better things. I really hope…

Training done this week was as follows:

Mon 15 June: Rest
Tue 16 June: Rest
Wed 17 June: 25 minute run
Thu 18 June: 30 minute turbo
Fri 19 June: 2.5km swim
Sat 20 June: 1:05 turbo
Sun 21 June: 30 minute run

Totals: Swim 2.5 km, Bike 30 miles, Run 9 miles

Saturday, June 20, 2015

Post 84 - The Bristol Triathlon

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