2015 Race Review

2015 is a bit clever, and has its own page for your reading pleasure:

http://workingclasstriathlete.blogspot.co.uk/p/2015-review.html

Injury is no excuse.

This might be the last post before The Outlaw, but a lot unexpected aggravation has happened so I wanted to update, so will dive straight in with the nuts and bolts of what's been going on.

Back in the last post from the Woodhall Sprint I mentioned a stomach injury that made running painful. After that race it has all been about the build up to the 140.6, and everything in terms of training and racing was constructed with that in mind.

So after that race I took a week off the running to give my stomach chance to rest. I turned out a week on Tuesday later to run a half marathon, and the pain was still there from the off. A jarring, stabbing pain with every stride low down in the bowel just above the pelvic area. I decided at the time to suck it up, and ended up running a 1hr 22min, which I was well happy with. The stomach soon settled, but a few more shorter sprints in the week still gave it jip. It just wasn’t getting better.

The next Saturday was an opportunity to take a recce of the bike course, doing the Southern and Northern loop of the Outlaw Course. On race day it will be South/North/South totalling 112 miles. Setting off from a local bike shop as a group doing South and then North made it 90 miles all in, and would give me a decent taster of what to expect.

On arrival I was surprised to find how many people were doing it in their comfortable riding gear, or on bikes that they wouldn’t be using come race day. For me this was a chance to simulate race day nutrition, my intended kit, the bit set up. A proper dry run. This was definitely out of the ordinary thinking among the group and I was surprised by that.
 

Langdale Lightweights before the ride. A nice bunch.

 

That said, it was a good group, led out by a couple of really capable pure bred cyclists from Langdale Lightweights that drove the pace. There were moments of beauty where we ate up the miles as a fully working chain gang, the guys on the right rolling forward and falling to the front of the ride, soon replaced by the man behind them as they trickled back round to the rear, and repeat. With 12 of us in the group that meant nobody was working at the max for too long at the front, and we were able to hold 21mph+ without too much bother at all.  It gave me confidence that 20mph should be achievable come race day without wrecking myself for the run.

One big decision that was made last winter was to give up the allotment to free up time to train in the evening. Might not sound a big deal, but after near continuous plot cultivation since we got married 14 years ago, and having long been my main source of relaxation, not to mention decent family food it was a big decision and 1 that troubled me. To counteract the inevitable feeling of loss I decided to dig over the front lawn and replace it with a small scale allotment plot. That way I still had the fun, without the hours and hours of commitment, the drive there, the drive back, and all the additional faff. Seemed like the perfect compromise, and has been working well.

And so I was stood in the front garden digging the beds on the Tuesday night, and felt a minor twinge in my back and shoulder. The twisting of the fork as I turned the soil seeming to pull my back & neck a tad. Nothing to worry about.

The some what demented looking front garden.

 

Training carried on and I still had the stomach pains.

On the Thursday I had the day off to take part in the Castle 2 Coast 2 Castle 100mile Cycle ride from Lincoln, (unsurprisingly to the coast) and back again. I had been given free entry and a snazzy cycling top courtesy of my Sponsors, Delta Simons, who put together a great team, and we had a decent ride there and back among mixed abilities, with the opportunity to talk and network along the way. It was a good day out and perfectly timed for some additional volume mileage in the legs. A quick lunch thrown in at the half way point in the sun made it all the more enjoyable.  A proper look round the back roads of the Shire.

Team Delta Simons outside the cathedral at the start of the ride.

As we headed back I got my foot down and made a break, wanting to test myself at pace over longer distance. The last 20 miles I put down alone at a decent pace and was pleased. Once we got back I packed up the car and took a bit of a jog between the car and the BBQ laid on by the organisers.  The stomach was agony instantly, and I swiftly stopped. It clearly wasn’t getting better and proving a proper problem with the running. I had dropped a significant portion of the weekly training mileage to help it heal to no avail, and I had noticed a few times when swimming it seemed to hurt as I rotated in the pool also. Maybe a trip to the doctors was in order. This I did and he indicated that a scan was in order and almost certainly would highlight a hernia. We had a chat, and I explained I couldn’t sort anything out until after the season was over, and he agreed to do what he could to get me through it.

The following Saturday was a swim race called The Amphibian. At 5km in 500m loops with a 100m run in between each swim loop it was again a tactical entry to give me some over distance race simulated practice before the big day. Lots of fun but competitive long distance stand alone events had seemed to fall perfectly to help with the final run in.

Once we arrived my concern for my stomach climbing out onto the run and hurting me motivated me to take a few painkillers to stop any bother. My brother had also decided to come out of retirement and give me a race, and my PHISH relay team mate Suzy had also entered the 5km with a pledge to skin me. Other friends were in the 2k, and Ella and my Dad were racing in the 1km, Ella being excited at her first full adult open water event. The painkillers seemed worth it to ensure we all had a great day.
 

I had a total target time of 1hr 22min in mind (including the runs) and knew that would put me top 5, depending on who turned up on the day. It was an achievable target and things started nicely. At the horn I got a cracking start, well away from the melee behind, and settled in with the front pack for the first 3 laps. People started dropping away as they finished the 1km and 2km races and left the 5km green hatted athletes dotted about. Now I was on my own, and the pace seemed to be easing.
 

About this time on the 5^th lap Suzy pulled alongside me, and gave me an eyeballing as she swam level. For the rest of that loop we swam side by side, me eventually easing off & letting her get ahead round the last buoy so that I could draft and pull her ankle to psyche her out, knowing she hates it. Climbing out of the water my run was quicker and I got back into the water a good 10m ahead.

Before the first buoy however she was back past and in full stride. Try as I might I just couldn’t keep up, and by the end of the next lap she was in and out of the run phase before I climbed out. Nothing felt wrong, and I couldn't understand where the speed had gone.

Team mate Suzy Hegg laughing as she passes me on the run section....

 

...but nothing was going to spoil the picnic after.

From then it was clearly a bad day at the office and things felt slow. It just wasn’t coming together and I finished 11^th with a novice time of 1hr 30min total. Absolutely abysmal. Knocking out the run splits left me with just a 6:58 min 400m pace average. Absolutely shocking.

No matter, it was a bit of race training fun, lots of family and friends present, and so we sat down and enjoyed the Picnic before heading home. I think more photos were taken of the picnic than the race. Picnic done, the day had turned from a wet murky start to glorious sunshine, so home to enjoy the garden.
 

By 3pm I was in agony. The painkillers had worn off and my back was spasming uncontrollably. It seemed that the poor swim had come from adding to and damaging the strained back/shoulder muscles earlier in the week and not realising. By now it was hurting to breath, and that night I barely managed any sleep not knowing what to do with myself. Every position standing/laying/sitting excruciating agony. Early Sunday morning required a trip to A&E that resulted in confirmation of torn back and intercostal muscles. The little muscles in-between the ribs being the reason it hurt so much to breath, like a belt with nails knocked into it, pressing in deeper as the chest expanded, tightening round the ribs.

Excellent Wifery after the hospital on Sunday Morning.

Home with some painkillers and anti-inflammatorys, and not a lot else that could be done I spent the next 48hrs unable to move, twitching, trying to find a way to sit or lay that wasn’t painful.

And so that was last week. By the end of the week with the glimmers of a recovery, and having not dared think about the upcoming Iron Distance I took to a few small runs to see how it coped. Limping along to a 9min mile pace for 3 miles seems terrible, and it is, but I was just pleased to be able to do. Swimming a week last Wednesday I managed 200m and got out in agony. By last Saturday I managed 0.75miles at a steady easy pace, but I could see a potential for a way forward, The Outlaw just maybe being possible with some swim adaption that means breathing only over my left shoulder, so every 4^th stroke (rather than every 2). I could see how with some recovery time that plan might just see me through the swim. So Sunday I got on the bike and put down 65miles, again, at an easy pace of 18mph, but it didn't made things worse.

The biggest problem seems to be once you are warmed up and working hard there very quickly comes a point where I can’t catch my breath deep enough, and it results in a painful gasping. Most of the speed comes in the final throws of effort, when you are at your limit, the chest bursting, the legs on fire. By taking that away you lose the most the quickest. So annoying. A stitch developing quickly and prematurely that necessitates easing off swiftly. All I could keep doing is pushing this limit and gently stretching the muscles.

 This week has been more of the same, adding a bit more speed into each set where I can, before easing off in agony. That said, there has been no painkiller use, and every swim, every bike, every run yields improvement.

 So that is a very dry and succinct account of a miserable and stupid injury that has completely thrown my final plans for the Outlaw.  I have doubtless lost some form, but how much (or little) I don't know.

 What is interesting though, what's worth blogging about is how an injury like this has taught me more about myself and my limits.

You never know how you will respond to something until it happens. The first few days were just misery, laid there, but I kept saying to myself 'see how it goes, you've got 3 weeks, and that's a long time to heal'.

Once I could move about and think about the most gentle of runs I did them. It always seemed that whenever I was wincing in pain someone would drive or walk past. Always catching you at your worst point. To be fair I have had a lot of people express me concern and worry and tell me to take it easy and it has been touching to know people care. I would be saying the same thing if I saw someone doing what I am doing, but being in the situation and reading your own body I know that deep down it is capable. It all comes down to resolve.

It's weird, but I know that I need to hurt myself to improve myself enough to still be able to compete at a level that will do my training justice. It hurts, but it is about acceptance. This is the hand that has been dealt now, and I can either embrace it or fail. There is no middle ground. I am Martin, and for the next month of training and racing my body will have to hurt. Accepting that fact allows me to push on.

Swimming is the most acute, gasping for breath making the leg kick and spasm out involuntarily as I do. As much as it hurts though, it is strangely satisfying. Knowing that each breath stretches the muscles that little bit more, stopping them healing tight and stiff. Letting them know from the off that if they are weak and choose to get injured there will be no compromise. They have to conform, build up and repair, coming back stronger than ever. The weak link was shown, and it is being addressed. Of course this has to be tempered by not pushing it too far, because re injury will certainly now mean I wont make the start line, but that is the thing. What looks mental to the observer doesn't feel so bad from within. It is knowing that limit. Knowing when it is 'just pain' and when it is more. When it is damaging. It is finding that line, and pushing yourself up to it, careful to never cross it. I cannot advocate training through injury to anyone else, it is definitely not the wise course of action, I simply speak from my own perspective here.

 So from 140.6 seeming daunting and a challenge in itself, it is now 'can I do it at around 70% of form' and still 'race' the course, not just complete it. I have to admit I like the extra. The curve ball has swung in, and (hopefully) it is being dealt with. If you are going to do an iron distance you may as well make a challenge out of it. There's a good chance I will live to regret these words! but there is no alternative attitude right now.

 After the Outlaw I am looking forward to a 2 week holiday with family swimming the lochs of Scotland again, camping on the beaches in the North, hopefully getting wet with passing Orca and Porpoise.

 And then the pressure returns - the relays. The team have made it clear that these set backs are no excuse. This is motivating me to push on right now more than the Outlaw. The fear of letting down the team when we only missed National Gold by 14 seconds last year. Its easy to fail for yourself, but when others are depending on you, you are not just wasting your own efforts by giving up, but essentially the hours of training they have also committed. That can never happen.

Onwards and upwards. Thank you for reading, I know this has been one of the less interesting posts.

 

 

Dambuster 2015.

Dambuster Triathlon being an Olympic distance ITU World Qualifier race means it always attracts the cream of amateur competition, and is a great test of current form against the best fellow athletes in the Country. With getting on for a few thousand entrants it's one not to miss.

 

I have to say that this race is fast becoming one of my favourites of the calendar, and this year didn't disappoint.

 

It's got a great swim, a hilly bike and a picturesque run. Thrown into the mix this year was the last minute update of an alien & invasive shrimp species present in Rutland Water, causing a few waves between club members, do they bite? don't they? I did my best t warn them all but until confirmation at the race briefing it seemed many thought I was pulling their leg. All good fun, I just wish I had remembered to take my very apt run hat.



I never expected the hat to work on so many levels!



We ate early and well on Friday night and headed off to register.

 

(I've been thinking lately of the best term for a collection of club members, because every event is a sea of bright yellow Louth Tri hoodies, generally pooling together en masse ready to cheer and shout as the athletes pass.)

 

On arrival I was pleased to hear the parking was free that evening. That had saved me a fiver, and made a pleasant surprise from the usual casual greed places seize the opportunity to operate.

 

Ambling over to the tent I ran straight into a Blunder (decision made) of Club mates, excited & hyped for the race. We had a chat, got signed up and I headed back to the family who had stretched their legs in the park, and we took the final 5 miles to the hotel.

 

On arrival we checked in without bother, and it was good to see the rest of the hotel filling with bods lugging bikes up the stairs. The room was clean and tidy, nothing fancy, but the staff had assured us that they were prepared to do breakfast early at 5am instead of the usual 6.

 

I met briefly with Oliver who passed me a wedding invite which was a nice surprise, and bonus to the evening, and had a quick chat about what would be his first Open Water and Olympic distance event. I was kind of envious of the first time feeling, remembering my own trepidation.

 

I sat and faffed with my registration pack, putting stickers on the bike and the helmet, setting the number on the belt, and writing my splits on my hand. After that, with everyone washed and ready for bed I took the children down to the car, and locked them in it for the night so they could sleep, and tucked the bike up in bed. It looked beautiful snoozing away in its new wheels kindly lent to me by a friend after the prang buckling the back wheel the week before.

 

The bike got tucked in for a good secure nights sleep in the hotel family room.

By 4:40am the following morning it was apparent we were all laid there waiting to get up. Well I was anyway, so by 4:45am all the Balls were up and getting ready began. A quick pot of porridge & honey while the family went down and enjoyed cereal and toast. I mixed my home made concoction into a bottle for energy on the bike, packed the car and racked the bike. The family, by now fully resigned to their fate at my hands are used to the preposterously early mornings, and took it with good grace, and were ready and willing to cheer from the early hours.

 

We arrived at Rutland Water just before 6am. It was busy, but the site was efficient, and the cars moved smoothly to park.

Pre race Pre Amblers

 

 

We unpacked, I pumped the tyres, unloaded the box and set off for transition. It was filling up nicely. This year, where as the year before we were on the tarmac, I was further through the transition pit and on the grass. It was a fair bit further to run, but I was actually quite pleased, because it would mean there was no rush to unzip and pull down the wetsuit before reaching the bike. I set everything up and remembered to leave my number belt on under the wetsuit. (For info - that worked really well, I never felt it on the swim and it was done and ready to go as soon as the wetsuit was off.) I practiced the run to the bike, and out, and then back through T2 and onto the run.

 

Once everything was set  there was time for the round of enthusiastic hellos with a multitude of familiar faces. Everyone excited and focused. The weather was perfect, no wind and high light cloud, neither hot or cold. No low sun to blind us in the swim.

 

After race briefing it was down the water, and a chance to watch the first wave consisting of  team swimmers and men under 35. Toes to the waters edge, the crowds went silent and the tension mounted awaiting the horn. The air horn pierces the air and the masses charge for the water. The fun has begun. I get a tingle of excitement from the adrenalin that is now pumping,  knowing that in a few minutes that will be me, as I watch and cheer club mates thrash out into the lake.

 

The Madness begins

 

 

Straight down to a quick acclimatisation swim, I'm out again and ready. Stood with a friend on the waters edge, sure of the best start, we discussed the best line and the official stated '10 seconds'. I started the watch. What seemed like an age passed, not a murmur around me. A few coughs from the spectators on lakeside in the background.

 

'HURRRRRRRRRRR' of the horn. Charging for the water I have to sprint hell for leather to the waters edge. Being shorter than the average man I am diving earlier and swimming sooner than the masses behind who can stride out deeper before they have to take the plunge. I have to get ahead to avoid being trampled. Everything went smoothly, and soon enough I shook off the athlete trying to swim on my back behind me and settled into the tow of some slightly quicker feet, and got to work on the swim.

 

 

After the usual jumbled 200m I settled in and paced off my breathing, figuring this was a good opportunity to test the 'Iron pace'. After trading off some feet to just before the first buoy I decided this guy was easing off slightly. I pulled aside him as we rounded the buoy and made the break for the next group in front. The next set of feet were perfect. Soon enough I was gliding along and catching my breath after working hard a few seconds before. The power of the draft is incredible, extra speed for less effort is an opportunity not to be wasted. I stretched out and touched the guys feet. It must have surprised him because his legs jerked into life and he kicked out in fury. The water frothed in front of me.

 

After that it was simple, like herding a beast. Every time I felt he wasn't providing the draft I felt he was capable of I tickled his feet (like a jockey whipping the horse) and again he would kick out in fury and up his pace. After about 800m of this he got cheesed off and sat up in the water, turned about and swore at me. That made me smile so I flogged him some more with a playful tug or 2 of the ankle.  I moved up his hip and tucked under his pit for a bit. His ample draft had served me well and I turned it up for the last 400m, kicked my way clear on fresh legs to warm them up ready for the bike.

 

Out the water and into the cheers of the crowd. I spotted the family straight away on my right, and sprinted to the bike with their encouragement in my ears.

 

The family making me smile as I run to T1.

A glance at the watch confirmed the swim as 22minutes. That put me squarely on a dead 6:00 per 400m pace. I was certainly comfortable enough to have held that for double if I had saved the kick at the end until needed at the end of the 140.6 next month. It's good to see things coming together.

 

Transition was smooth except for having to help one heel out of the suit with the flick of a finger. Otherwise fine. Grabbing the seat post, driving the bike forward I hit the ground and headed for the exit.

 

As I mounted I felt that I had taken my time, almost cautious, as I just wanted to get my feet comfy and settled without any issue. Talking to a team mate after it seems like it was the sensible thing to do with a lot of apparent carnage as people went to saddle up. Chains & people off, accidents and mishaps galore. 1 man by all accounts even managing to have his shoes on the wrong way round and having to stop to swap them over. I just didn't want a repeat of the week before out of T1.

 

That said, I settled into the bike quick, and took a quick drink to wet my whistle as I left the park and headed out onto the main road. The upside (trying to find one) of last week was that I took T1 calmly and it paid off, but also the buckle in the wheel had led to me borrowing a pretty slick pair of carbon tubulars off a friend. I have to be honest and say they felt good from the off. With no wind and some  undulating beginning miles to warm up on I was soon in my stride.

 

Around this point I decided that Triathlons are a bit of a weird way of time travelling. Here I was at 07:45am pedalling for all I was worth, cars passing, thinking about the swim before. Yet it had the feel of 2 in the afternoon with so many people around. Normally, training at this time of day the roads are bereft of anything but wildlife at the weekend, especially on back roads.

 

At the mile 7 marker I could see I was a minute up on the splits etched on the back of my hand.

 

Heading South off the west side of Rutland Water everything felt good, I felt strong and I grinned happily at myself. he bike felt strong, the weather was good and I was eating up the competition. I was really enjoying this.

 

Mile 11, and I had taken in a steep long climb, but the gap on my splits held firm. At the half way marker I hadn't been passed, and had ticked a lot off the wave before me. The back half of the course being the hillier I took on plenty of fluid and a couple of gels before getting my head back down for some good solid consistent effort. Still feeling strong.

 

Coming down into 1 village off a hill I smiled as I tripped the sad face on the speed display thing you sometimes get, it registered 31mph. Thankfully it wasn't a speed camera. This was around the 18 mile marker, and again I checked my times. I was now about 2 minutes up on what I had expected, and it crossed my mind that the trusty Casio F-91W 1980's original model had stopped or paused then re-started without me noticing. This thought panicked me, and suddenly worrying I might be down on what I thought I decided to give the final 8 miles of mostly up hill everything I could to be safe.

 

Taking on the rest of my juice and the last gel at around mile 22 I had 4 and a bit miles for it to settle, and then into T2. Assessing the bike as I began to think about the run and I realised I was still feeling fresher than usual for this point. I couldn't help but smile and take it all in as I rounded the bend to all the cheering supporters and had time to take on board plenty of shouts aimed at me from family and club members alike as I dismounted and dumped the bike ready for the run. The splits after confirmed the 26.25 miles were done in 1hr 08minutes. Just a tiny bit shy of a 23mph average through out the ride. Pleased with that, and admittedly with help from Glenns beautiful wheels.

 

Trainers on quick. Hurtling down the racking I passed a mate who had bagged the events fastest swim time as part of a relay with 18min 30secs. A properly great effort, but I remembered passing his team mate in the back half of the ride. Before hand he was adamant they could hold me off, and a friendly wager said otherwise. Their 10 minute head-start on the wave and then then additional 4 he had put on the swim on me gone, and more, as he stood looking hopefully for his team mate to pass the baton to their runner. I grimaced as I passed, and he eye balled me and shouted 'Run man, faster'. This drove me to find my feet quicker and I stomped past the trip mat, more cheers from the family and out on the run.

 

Once into my stride I felt pretty comfy early on. I passed a good slog of runners, and at about 2 miles in passed the lead athlete coming the other way. I started counting the wave 1 runners as they whipped passed, looking out for a good friend who is using the event to warm up for his slot in Team GB in Geneva later in the summer. As we passed I motioned he was in 7th, and through the agony of his efforts he nodded an understanding.

 

I'd heard breathing off my shoulder for a while around this point, aware a strong runner was pacing off me while he caught his breath and got ready to pass. Then I noticed another guy I know running towards me. Just as we were about to pass the runner behind me stepped up a gear and slipped past, as he did so saying "Morning Sean" as casually as possible, cool as a cucumber to the guy we clearly both knew coming the other way. A truly class move that made me smile 

 

At half way I had managed to hang on to his coat tails, and was a good way up on my times now. All I had to do was hold it.

 

Round the cone at half way and a simple retrace of the steps. It's a good flat run and I was settled until the last 2km. At that point it undulates, goes through woods and over grass with some climbs that sap your strength at the end. I passed some team mates and traded high 5s before the final push for home.

Final effort, in the impeccable Delta Simons supplied Suit.

A sprint for the line and job done, run in 38min 03secs, meaning a 6:03 minute mile average. I had hoped for under 6, but with a total time of 2hrs 11min, 36th overall in the race, and 10th in my age group, but less than 3 minutes from the 1st placed 35-39'r at a national qualifier I was well happy.

 

The congratulations after, cheering in other friends. The atmosphere was great. For Louth Tri it was a great day. Our Chairman took 2nd in his age group of 60+, we bagged the fastest swim time from our relay team member, and another 2nd place from our GB man in the 30 to 34 category. That and several personal bests and some great results from first time standard distance athletes there was nothing bad to report. As usual the club were the most prevalent in their support of the team.

 

Packed up, and home in time for lunch. It felt like evening and we all slobbed on our beds until being roused by my parents who had popped round with some beer to congratulate me on earning Q2 of the automatic qualification spot for my age group to represent GB at Chicago in September.

 

An early night, and where as normally I would be tired the next day I woke early and was treated to a fathers day sausage sandwich and fresh coffee in bed. After that I felt motivated to squeeze in  a 30mile ride and a 6mile brick run. A hopeful invite text to a few friends who also completed yesterday got short shift. Fresh as a daisy. This Iron training certainly gives you stamina!

 I can honestly say I have seldom enjoyed an event more. Seamless organisation getting there and setting up, good weather, great company, great racing with some pb's and a GB qualification thrown in for good measure, and all before 10am.

 

Team Ball. The best support squad in the World.