Holkam Hall Half Iron, Outlaw Triathlon.

This event first reared its head last winter, a new addition to the OSB Events calendar, and their 2^nd offering of a 70.3 distance, this time out of the Holkham Hall Estate off the North Norfolk Coast.

 

It’s worth telling you a bit of background to North Norfolk from my perspective. Since childhood I have holidayed with family in a small village called Mundesley along the coast from Holkham in a family members chalet that was eventually inherited. The beach is beautiful, the weather is (mostly) fine, and it has always been home from home for me. Somewhere I love being.

 

When I met Sarah one of the first things she told me about was her regular holidays to the same small village of Mundesley as a child, her parents owning chalets in the chalet park next to ours. We never met as children, but still a completely unlikely random coincidence, and something that has always been a cracking thing to share………15 years of marriage later, having now spent countless year round long weekends and holidays with our own family there, often with other extended family there at the same time, all adding up to hours and hours on my favourite beach, sea swimming, relaxing, enjoying good food and making fond memories, this event held something of a personal appeal. I certainly stood to know the course, where ever it might be.

 

About a 600m walk from the chalet, a pre-requisite of every visit
 is a photo of the Girls on the bench down the cliff.

Everyone loves a BBQ on the beach. Mmmmm.

This photo pretty much sums up the family relationship with Mundesley beach.
Mock disgruntlement on Molly's face, anticipation on Ella's,
Resignation on Sarah's........and me in the sea. 

 

There's even a chest in the hallway at home
that is adorned in the North Norfolk Coastline.

With that thought in mind I left it, not wanting to throw money down the drain if fitness didn’t come good, but after The Grafman in April, and then another month of some assessment training, the promise of improving performance held fast, and so I took the chance and entered at the 11^th hour. I had also been pondering the potential popularity of the event. The majority of serious athletes would have already entered their A races, and squeezing in the small matter of a Half Iron for fun is no small undertaking. The venue and popularity of the organisers delivered though, and while it took a while to fill it, it did, and it filled with a decent national standard. I even persuaded my sister in law Katie to have a crack with only 3 weeks to the race date. 

 

Back in October I had been toying with doing ‘The Anglian’, a full 140.6 distance off the North Norfolk Coast complete with sea swim, mostly for the same reasons as I had now entered this – I knew the area, and that thought made it fun. Unfortunately The Anglian was cancelled due to lack of interest, and the Holkham has possibly missed a trick in not holding the swim in the sea when it is on its doorstep, but the lake and the backdrop of the Hall were there for the taking. It’s funny how 2 events so close to one another can have such contrasting fortunes.

 

It being a last minute entry, things clashed on the calendar, and this meant that I would be going alone, as Sarah and the Girls had other commitments that weekend. It was strange loading up the car to ‘go to the chalet’ alone, but I can now categorically state that regardless of what they say when I am packing to race, it is far less than the copious amounts of ‘essential’ items that I seem to struggle to stuff in the car and roof box when we travel down as a family!

 

A beautifully fitting bike frame in the car. Made to measure.

I’m not a football fan at all, and I couldn’t name 4 of the England team even after these recent Euros, but I have to confess to having a good ride down tuning into some old school crackly medium wave radio and listening to the Wales v Belgium match, getting into the excitement as the home nation prevailed. I had no idea Belgium were apparently so good. Turns out they weren’t.

 

On arriving I got unpacked, set up and sorted, went through some race data that had been playing on my mind for a while and then set the alarm, hoping it would be a nice morning, for an early morning sea swim with the North Norfolk Crawlers.

Set up inside 15 min of arriving. Home from home.
2 big chicken buttys, tea and telly before bed.

Waking up early I had a big mug of tea and took a stroll the 0.5miles down to the sea, sitting on the cliff top bench waiting for other swimmers to arrive, enjoying the morning sun. As soon as everyone arrived it was apparent I was the only wetsuit swimmer that morning, but hid behind the need to take it easy for the race the next day! Around 45minutes of even paced effort later I had ticked off just shy of 2 miles, got out, enjoyed a mug of chocolate and a catch up, before heading back for a quick breakfast and drive over to the venue. It dawned on me I was fired up for the race and excited in a way I haven’t been all season. At times I was beginning to think I had lost some Mojo for it, and this familiar, if absent of late feeling was like the return of a welcome old friend. It was Race time!!!

Post swim photo.

The coast road is the quickest route, only about 19 miles from the chalet, but it took about an hour with the traffic, and I revised my set off time for the morning.

 

Pulling into the grounds it was as beautiful as expected, and quite a dramatic day, rolling clouds, sunshine, and more than a bit of wind whipping up the underside of the leaves on the old and majestic tree lined paths. I registered, soaking up the atmosphere,  chatted to plenty more people that I know, and made my way back to the car, where I took my time re assembling my bike, getting everything how I wanted it before finally pushing it down to transition and racking it ready for the morning. It is always weird leaving your ride on site.

Taking my time, setting myself up in the sun.

Lovely tree lined walk to Registration

And a herd of deer roaming around behind the event village

I then had a wander round the lake to check out the swim, and took in the race briefing, before overhearing the finishers of the 10k race being run on the same track as I would race the next day coming over the line. The winning time was just shy of 40 minutes. That is slow by any half decent runners standard for a 10k, honestly, really quite slow, and I was sure that some decent runners would be out there, which indicated either the condition of, or the difficulty of the course, as I had heard a few times on the grape vine that it was particularly hard. I would find out soon enough…

Leaving the Felt. Our first night apart in nearly a year.

Walking down to the swim

Looking back on the big house & transition from the swim start. That was
the 2nd island you swam round before exiting.

 

The drag strip style swim - out on the near side, round an island out of sight
in the distance, then back on the far side and out.

The drive back was thundery with plenty of lightening overhead and out to sea, adding excitement, and hoping it would blow itself out before the morning. Arriving back I packed up the car, cleaned up,  I prepped a hearty tea before getting to bed early with an alarm set for 03:50hrs.

Pre Race tea.

Then a tiger powered sleep.

Up with the dawn and out the door to a bowl of porridge, a homemade Juice and a coffee in a mug to fire the engine on route.

 

I got there about 05:15hrs giving plenty of time to inflate the tyres, prep the shoes, pace out the position in transition, find markers, write splits on my hand, talk to every other competitor, then rubber up and head down to the swim for wave 1.

 

The long shadows of an early summer morning transition. A nice touch at this
race was the bank of portaloos at both ends just for the athletes use.

The water was warm and clear as we all headed in, but very shallow. The briefing had warned of this, not really a bother for wave 1, but I could see very quickly how it was going to get churned up and silty as hell for the subsequent waves.

There's always time for a smile before the start.
I'm starting to see my trade mark ripped off now......

The floating start was good and wide, meaning there was no bunching. As the crowd gave the count down from the bank and the horn sounded I had plenty of room to get going without any of the usual kerfuffle. That made a pleasant change. The sun was low and blinding to the right, having started centrally I was mid-way between to arrow heads forming to either side. I headed right to get closer to the bank and increase the angle of the bank above my head, hopefully giving more shade from the sun. I slotted in behind the feet of the draft and we swam straight.

 

The lake was very long and thin, essentially an out, round an island then back the other way. During this time I picked up a few feet, felt like I was working hard and consistently, on the edge of being able to sustain my bi lateral breathing. That’s normally a consistent way of measuring effort. Using breath as a HR equivalent. On that basis I was happy during the swim. The island was larger than it had looked from the bank, and had been taped off in places to avoid submerged branches and debris.

 

Squaring up for the return leg the sun made it tricky to sight, but again it was pretty much straight which helped. About half way back the 2^nd wave went past in the other direction.

 

For the back 800m to the pontoon I was holding fast with 2 other swimmers, with us sitting a good way off the lead pack that looked to have stayed tight through-out the 1900m and then the main bulk of the swimmers around 300m behind us. A small pod between the masses.

 

Exiting the run was along a jetty, round a grass corner and into T1. A pretty standard distance and set up. I glanced at my watch and it read 32min. That was an appalling time. 

I still cannot work out what happened in the swim. My last competitive swim at Dambuster was 23min to the timing mat at T1 and that is a long run. That swim was 1500m. My usual 400m time is around 5:50, and allowing for the extra the wetsuit will give me balancing out the fatigue of the extra distance swam I'd still not expect the swim to be over 29 minutes to the line. That means I lost 3 minutes at least somehow. I still don’t know how, but looking after there were a lot of slower than usual swim times, including an extra 1.5minutes over standard for the 3^rd placed man overall, but still the swim went wrong somewhere. An embarrassing time. Did the sea swim the day before tire me out that much? Over 3 minutes down on the last 70.3 swim at The Grafman in May too.

A smooth and easy swim out.

T1 one bashed. Found the bike no bother, suit off and out the other side in a minute.

 

Onto the bike I had nutrition fully sorted, and settled pretty quick into a decent rhythm, passing a few early on as we headed out the estate and north to the coast road. 15 miles in and the first drink station was perched at the top of a stiff climb, seeing them at the top ensured a best effort including standing for the last 50m, levelling off I got cheers from friends and grabbed a drink from another friend manning the station.

 

The first 25 miles were all into the wind and a variety of rolling hills, with a lot of fine stones and flints on the road dumped there by wash from the rain, but the junctions were well marshalled and without incident.  This half of the ride was pretty lonely, I wasn’t passed, and I never really got sight of anyone in front.  Heading south off the coast road it turned into an 8 mile climb, gradual, steep, gradual, steep, a slight dip, but a drag and a half…

 

Once at the top it was down past the Sandringham estate and onto the main road as I triggered the half way timing mat. The splits were down a bit against my targets, but I knew that was the tough end of the course, and the wind had contributed. I had stuck to the plan and held HR on target throughout. The times were more than recoverable, and with that to aim for it pumped me up and I got my head down and gave the decent road surface of the long main A149 some welly. 

This had a number of long gradual climbs too, but without the wind in my face it felt easier and enjoyable. Chewing stats after the first 28miles were a 19.6mph average, but the last 28 I drove up to a 23.3mph. Pleased with that recovery.

 

A few of the quicker cyclists came past around 45 miles in, and I kept expecting the flood gates to open, and stronger cyclists to begin to pour past. It didn’t happen. Grabbing a bottle at the last station with 10 miles to go I was back on track and still felt strong. There was one final big climb towards the estate before entering the south gates, and heading down the long straight path past a monolith and down into dismount.

Unclipped, coming in off the bike.

Heading down the crowds had gathered, and the clapping and cheering began. The sun was out and the masses were making the most of it.

 

I unclipped for the line, and hopped off without issue. As I did I heard cheers from the side, glancing across I could see my parents and 2 youngest nieces shouting away enthusiastically. Jelly legs and a loss of focus and before I knew it I had tripped over the front wheel and fallen over my bike. Shoving my finger into the spokes I felt it bend back, waiting for the snap, it didn’t come, and I quickly squared myself up with nothing but embarrassment to show for the slip up, lifted the bike high in case it was damaged (to not make anything worse) and ran into T2. Just under 2hrs 40 min and a smidge over 21mph average around the course. Happy with that given how fresh I felt into the run.

 

Again no issues, and a feeling of satisfaction entering a 98% empty pit devoid of people or bikes. The run to my spot was a long one, but a simple bike down, helmet off, trainers on and I was out the other side and determined to try and make the run count, hitting the ground hard from the off. The timing mat bleeper recording 54 seconds. Considering the awkward prang and need to carry the bike aloft I was really chuffed with that after.

 

The crowds were cheering and it helped work though that first 400m as I gurned and groaned while the legs settled into their new role. 

Onto the  course and the first drink station soon appeared. I didn’t bother first time round. Down into a quick dip and then up a disgusting dirty climb that drained the legs before we even began. It didn’t look that bad from the road, but running up it, it certainly smarted. The event photographers had sadistically parked at the top of it to get the best action shots of people struggling along.

Hitting the run, feeling the burn

A slight down, and then another longer gradual climb. Awful. I was passing a few people though, and the bikes were streaming past, coming into T2 on the other side of the road. Thinking of the hill they had to climb made me smile.

 

Turning off the road and onto a stony track, again it was a decent climb, but now surrounded by fields it didn’t seem as bad. I regretted my trainer choice slightly, feeling a lot of the stones and uneven ground underfoot. A bit of a thicker sole would have made it more comfortable, but comfort and speed aren’t often merry bed fellows so that was never going to be the deciding factor in trainer selection.  

This path levelled off after another climb, round a bend and into a dip and the next feed station between some barns. I slowed, took on some fluids and then got the pace back up. The path headed out towards the trees, and I was aware of a big swarm of horse flies above my head. The sun was hot now, and the sweat flowed freely.

 

This road ran into the cool of the woods, and the drop in temperature was a relief, but the track was rough, and it was hard work to get an even footing to maintain a decent form and pace. The options were 2 deep off road tyre gouged tracks with patches of thick near black mud, or a thin, knobbly strip of patchy grass in the centre of the tracks to balance your way over. I tried all, and settled on the dirtier, but less perilous main track.

 

This turned down hill and through a final field before passing the camping area, high fiving the children playing on the grass and stood by their tents, and we entered the throngs of people once more, down the main road into the estate for about 400m. The crowd picked me up, and I could see my brother in the distance firing off a few sneaky shots with his grubby zoom lens. 

Better to grimace than get passed and look depressed.

 

Past the finishing chute, and the commentator was out on the course in full flow. That commentator being the same Kyle Campbell of my previous Red Bull Neptune Steps blog post.

 

I tried to hide from line of sight as I approached, using an athlete further ahead to block his view of me, but he sniffed me out instantly and the outpouring of ‘man child’ ‘junior category’ and all the usual smart alec comments ensued, so I embraced them (and loved them really), hammed it up with him, and leapt with all my might to reach his outstretched hand and slap him as I passed.

 

Back down the small dip to the first water station, I clocked the splits and had run the first of the 3 loops (4.4 miles) on a 6:30 min average. Given the course conditions I was really pleased with that, and still on target.

 

Back up the hill. Now there were a lot of runners on the course, and without the bands it would be impossible to tell at which loop people were on. The run was slower this time round, and I stalled at the 2^nd water stop on this loop to take the fluid on fully. At the end of the loop I was aware I still hadn’t been passed, but my time was dropping off now. I was holding heart rate, but the speed had faded. The hills were sapping it and I was feeling the terrain underfoot.

 

On the positive side I was getting on a lot better than I did at The Grafman, holding greater endurance for longer. The times were down to an average of just over 7 min miles as I passed the chute for the final loop.

By the third loop I was aware of stomach cramps, but pushed on up the hill and then the next. A small amount of time spent running next to other athletes I know. As I turned the corner off the main road onto the track and the 3rd climb for the final time, I was passed by another athlete with 2 bands. The first time I had been passed on the run. I tried to wick it up and hold on to their shoulder, and succeeded for a while. 

Looking at the HR it spiked for a bit, but then died off, I was working harder than ever, but as I approached the last water station it began to drop regardless of the effort I put in and as I eased back to grab a drink the guy dropped me.

 

After that I couldn’t get going in the same vein again, and quickly followed that through with an involuntary wee that ran straight down my right leg and into my trainer. The rest of the run was a grim one footed squelch. Not only that, but while this is a common placed happening, the otherwise comfortable Huub suit seems to absorb the urine and rub it into the skin causing painful blisters, where other suits have never done this. Agony for a week after. Very strange.

 

Sarah dealing with the aftermath!

Anyway, that aside, I pressed as hard as a I could past the camping field, family and friends cheered, my Mum encouraging my nieces to clap,  more high 5’s to the children on the sides as I passed, and down the red carpet to finish in 4hrs 50min, 26^th/1200 overall, and 6^th/210 in my age group. If that guy hadn't passed me in the last 3 miles it would have been 5th. If I hadn't had the worst swim of my life it would have been 4th.... could of, would of, should of. That's racing, and I'm content with the result.

 

The overall time was slow, but that was reflected in everyone’s times given the physically tough nature of the course, and the results are a great improvement on where I have been. The running fading much later than previously, and giving me a good indication that the training is delivering in the needed areas.

Finding the line.

 I took advantage of the free massage after, headed to the food tent and chewed over the course with other finishers while eating a really decent post race spread. A couple of cups of tea later and I was ready to collect kit and pack the car. We enjoyed a picnic and cheered in Katie who completed it in a very respectable 6hrs 15min, then headed for home.

 

I haven’t fully decided yet if it was the rarity of a nice warm day this summer, the atmosphere, venue, or a mix of all of the above, but I haven’t enjoyed a race so much for a long time, feeling mentally strong through out - this might just be my new favourite course.

 

 

Dambuster Olympic

Dambuster. Maybe it's just because I'm a Woodhall lad, and that's also  the home of the infamous 617 Dambuster Squadron, but this is a race I have come to love, and regardless of the overall years plan it's still a must on the race calendar.

This time last year I had just finished the Dambuster Olympic and walked away with a great time, a top Age Group Position, a top 30 finish overall and an offer of a place at the ITU World Championships in Chicago. A real high point of 2015.

Until last weekend that was the last Olympic Distance I had competed in, having totally pursued long course since. So here I was rocking back up at a great national event, with a full year between the 2 and nothing to measure myself against in-between. To be fair, I had geared my year around that race a fair bit in 2015, but this year was meant to be for fun, a good performance required, but essentially for the sheer love of the sport.

Also for the first time in 3 years I didn’t book a hotel. We decided to camp, and Sarah, having been completely devoured by gnats and midges on a few separate occasions last year veto’d attending, so Ella & myself packed up the car and headed over Friday night to pitch up on the side of Rutland water alongside other enthusiast racers who had travelled down the night before. We picked up a fellow Louth Tri Member who was competing in as relay team, and looking for a PB on the 10k run, the journey down whipped past nattering about everything tri.

 

Ella, set up and on the all important tea duty.

 

Pitching up next to family, Miriam found her team and disappeared off with a tent under her arm, while we brewed up and listened to the nervous ramblings of my almost Sister in Law who was here to race her first standard distance, and in true Ball (to be in October) style put her neck on the block and registered her attempt to Q for Mexico. Why not!

Camping is always a risk, but with a 7am start with a near 2hr drive meaning leaving at 4am to get there in time to register and rack I decided to chance. It’s the trade off between a potentially worse night’s sleep, or a comfy bed, but getting up ridiculously early. Camping was only for athletes, and I was surprised as we settled down how many seemed to linger outside, talking, playing ridiculous music and drinking into the night when they clearly had to be up so early and performing at their best. We were glad around midnight when it rained and drove them to their beds.

 I don’t give out negative reviews or critism easily, but I feel compelled to say that the campsite was a big disappointment. The toilets were a long way off, basically the event portaloos. To boot, the majority were locked, only a few available for use, and then the cold outside tap to get some water was in another random unmarked location. And that was it, for £17.50. That coupled with the discovery that although I had been told while booking over the phone that parking was included in that price (usually £5) only to be informed on arrival it was not, so actually costing £22.50 left a very bitter taste.  A persistant stance at the camp sign in / watersports centre desk  meant I got the parking validated for free, and some small recompense, but Anglian Water showed themselves up to be greedy and lazy. PaceSetter, the event organisers can’t help this set up, but if you are thinking of camping there, I would say spend an extra few quid and get a B&B nearby. They will at least look after you.

 So onto the important stuff. The race.

 

5am, some last minute adjustments and setting up.

 

 Awake early, time spent going through the kit, readying the bike, and playing through times and stats, writing key data on the back of the hand.

 Bike racked, I ran into an old school friend that has got into the sport over the last few years, and it was good to see him set up and ready to give his best. Race briefing, and count downs, before I knew it we were all rubbered up and down by the shore.

 

Bumping into an old school mate using this as a warm up for his
Sundowner 70.3 in September. Good Luck Reece.

 

We got to watch the first wave start, and the adrenalin began to flow in anticipation of the next 2hrs. It was time to focus and get a handle on that, save it burning me out too early.

 Once wave 1 had gone the area filled up with a multitude of familiar faces. For what is becoming such a popular sport it amazes me how small the regular crowd of competitive athletes are. Everyone mumbling hellos, understated nods and side glaces, trying to measure the form of those around them, and recall their form based on the doubtless hours of online stalking, rummaging through race stats/results and social media info to get an insight into everyone elses  current strengths, weakness and goals. Sarah is adamanat we are all crazed stalkers, and this is a pre-requisite for serious competition, in that it should almost be a part of the entry process. I can see it on the BTF ITU Registration form now :

• Q6 : Joe Bloggs has moved to the region, he is a known capable Regional Class Cyclist, and has registered for all the major events in the region, but little else is known about his tri’athletic prowess. Explain in no more than 600 words how you would go about assessing his form, and what you would do with that information?”. 

I bet most people reading this would think, well that’s an easy question…. Well that’s the point, it is…. but it shouldn’t be, and it isn’t to most of the normal functioning population – so congratulations, if you just answered that, you are clearly a dedicated racer…..

Anyway, back to the race. All this serious last minute prep and assessment always brings out the child in me. The stern faces, the posturing and macho crap that abound make me go the other way, and I start prattling about, smiling, waving, pointing, chatting and generally annoying those around me.

 

Messing about seconds from the off.....

 

“30 Seconds, the next sound you hear will be the starting horn” comes the tanoy announcement. Everything goes quiet and tense. I start my watch 10 seconds out and begin the count down in my mind.

Claxon sounds, BOOM, and the familiar rush to the water begins. I get a good start, push hard and the fastest guys start trickling past. I grab a series of feet to draft off, some are too much, and I lose them, but eventually I settle on the back of a Huub clad athlete with a ferocious kick that turns the green hue of the water around me a frothy white. I latch on and go with him. This tactic certainly improves my pace, but it soon becomes apparent he is terrible at sighting and swimming in a straight line. I intermittently leave his trail as he zig zags about, and eventually, as we turn the first bouy he swings wide, and I drop him, not on speed, but by simply getting my head regularly out the water and making sure I’m pointing at the next bouy. I pick up a few more guys by working hard to catch a group ahead and again draft with them. By the seconds bouy I lose them, and the flavour of the swim is served at that point. Intermittent drafting opportunities, and longer periods of solo efforts, slogging to work to the back of the main front pack about 20 seconds ahead.

 

No excuses at the start. Hard and fast from the off.......

 

......swiftly followed by a dodgy dive/fall !!

The way the swim worked cost me about 30 seconds on my target overall, but it was a solid effort and I was happy to get out and enjoy the run down the chute into transition in just under 23 minutes.

 

The wetsuit was down on the run and off the legs as soon as I found my spot. Helmet on, bike grabbed and out the other side. An efficient and no hassle transition.

On the bike it’s a bit of a meander out the park with a slight climb and then onto the road. It proved a windy start that required some hard work. I tried to get my head down, back flat and began eating away at a few of the back markers from the wave in front. I wasn’t being passed, and holding steady against the respective athletes dotted in front from my wave.  The first climb warmed the legs, and I settled into the rhythm, taking on fluids as required to keep fresh.

Having done the course a few times, and Olympic distance now being pretty much a training distance the miles soon got eaten up, and I reflected on the first few standard distances I completed and how tiring I felt them and how challenging they were. It is funny how things change over time, and I enjoyed seeing people out on the course giving it their all, some on bikes that were clearly the ride of a first timer, but also clearly loving it.

Just over half way round there’s a particularly big climb, which I stood up on and ground out. I focused on training I have been doing at this point ready for the hilly course in Austria, and while the splits on the back of my hand were indicating the wind had certainly slowed me up compared to last year I felt a lot stronger on the hill than I have done previously, and it was good to reach the top where there is always a collective group of sadist spectators enjoying the sight of suffering athletes as they crest the climb, and be able to look them in the eye with a flat stare, not the usual heaving chest and weak legs!

From there the road rolled through a few villages and climbed back to the main road that eventually turned for the last few villages and 1 final nasty sharp climb, before it was back into the park. About 8 miles out I decided to take on a caffine loaded gel to pick me up for the run. I had been feeling a bit fatigued and decided it would help. I had taped an SIS gel to the stem, but hadn’t paid attention to the flavour. It was cappuccino. Squeezing it into my mouth wasn't pleasant. I needed the hit, but no pun intended – that one wasn’t my cup of tea! I’ll stick to what I know in future I think.

Dismount and through T2 without any issue I was disappointed in my bike times, I could see I had dropped about 4 minutes, which is unacceptable, and a huge margin, and had gone from the 23mph that I have hit round that course before to 21.5mph. Looking back afterwards the conditions of the day probably accounted for a couple of those minutes, but with another few to account for I have been honest and on reflection come to the conclusion that with all my training being for a long focus there probably just isn’t that raw thumping  power delivery  there at the moment that is needed to empty the tank over the 2hrs of an Olympic distance. When all the A races are about 4+hrs it becomes a different animal, and that change in focus shows up with me when racing across differing distances. The depth isn’t there (yet). On a positive note it is good to see this effect, and gives me something to work on over the winter depending on which way I decide to go with 2017.

 So onto the run, it wasn’t too hot, and I settled quickly into a sustainable pace, remembering to press a bit harder every couple of hundred meters to ensure I wasn’t easing off. Just shy of 2k in the lead athlete passed me on the way back in, at which point I began counting as a few more passed, ready to shout data at others that I knew were ahead, so they had some info on where they stood relative to the leader to give them something to work against.

 

A great photo from Ella as I settle in on the run.

 

Around 3.5k in I realised that I hadn’t seen a friend from Lincoln in my Age Group that I knew was keen to beat me this year. He has been working hard with this as his A race focus to Q for Mexico at the World Champs, and I had hoped to pass him on the bike. Always a quicker swimmer I would previously have taken him at around mile 10 on the bike, but hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him throughout the last 1hr 40min, and started looking out for him passing the other way, trying to see what kind of gap he had held on me, and if there was any hope of clawing it back over the run. It was something to work on and it upped my pace, focusing my mind.

Waiting, and waiting for the pass but it didn’t come. I couldn’t get my head round it as I went round the cone at the turning point, my first thought was surely Jp isn’t that far ahead? It seemed the only explanation and I was pretty demoralised if I am honest. That was until about 750m back the other way  &I passed him on his outward leg. Genuinely surprised we nodded, and I blurted out “I’m not sure how that’s happened” to which he replied “Me either”. He said after he was waiting for the pass at any point on both the bike and the run. According to the stats I passed him on the bike, but neither of us saw each-other and both would expect to spot each other, and be actively looking out for one another. A very strange quirk of the race.

 After that it gave me the impetus to push a bit harder and hold the gap. I never saw Jp again, but am really pleased to say he took Qualification with his time none the less, not far behind at all in the end, and a huge dent on previous margins. On another day, another course there’d be a really close battle to be had now. I look forward to that down the line.

Along the dam, over the rolling grass and into the finish straight. Big cheers from fellow club atheltes, friends and most importantly Ella, who had got herself in prominent spots and cheered her head off, and shouted splits and times at me through out the day. She fired the camera and I crossed the line. 

 

Hitting the home straight.

 

After the race we stuck about to cheer on fellow club members, particular highlights being Katie completing her first Olympic distance just 2 weeks ahead of her first half Iron, and then  Laura forming the swim leg of a relay team taking second placed team over all. A fantastic result, with a strong swim/bike and run split through out. A partial podium for Louth at least! Then finally, but certainly not least Miriam took a fantastic PB on the run leg of her relay team, before going off and doing a second 10k race as a pacer the next day!!  Great results all round.

 

Post race with Laura and Katie.

 

Afterwards we went to load up the tent, only to be gratefully surprised that Ella and my brother had used their time while we were out on the bike wisely, and everything was packed and sorted ready to dash after the race. Thanks! You saved some tired legs doing some unwelcome work.

And so that was Dambuster 2016. Not my best result, 12^th in my age group out of 158. Could certainly have been better, but I have to be pragmatic and accept that last year here was a big focus and I was wired to the mains for it. If I can gear up in the same way for Austria then I will be laughing, and it gives practical substance to the value and importance of ‘peaking’ in your training plan.

 

Dambuster remains my favourite course.

 

 

 

 

 

Spectatorship

Straight after the highs (and lows) of The Outlaw we packed up, & through the kindness of a Tri club friend had the use of their cottage to spend a few weeks in Scotland with family. This included a recovery plan that involved plenty of down time with the children, a lot of eating, and sea/loch swimming where possible. A trip up to the far north coast line was the highlight that served up some truly amazing beaches, and some fantastic swims with my girls in water as blue, and sand as white as the Caribbean. Just without the temperature. I recommend them to anyone.



One of the best. Just west of Rispond Bay. Absolutely beautiful Swim.



A worthwhile scrabble down a steep bank to swim Loch Ness with Ella.

 

I made a promise to Sarah not to speak about Triathlon for 2 weeks, and I think I just about managed it. It was tough though. I would even go so far as to stick my neck out and recommend the Edinburgh Fringe to anyone who hasn’t been. You won’t come away with a new turbo sprint set, or an endurance swim winter plan, but strange as it sounds it turns out it’s still pretty good fun.

Half way through the holiday I embarked on some runs around the hills to test the legs, and instantly found that despite the rest the injury to my groin/stomach/hernia wasn’t subsiding and the pain was more acute than ever.  Being chased by a dirty great big bull over the heather was a motivating distraction from the issues over the short term, but isn't a practical tactic to take to race day. While I knew this would happen that little bit of hope in your mind always tricks you into believing that with a quick rest it will have miraculously healed itself and I would be back in fighting fit form. Nope.  It now flew its dirty little flag of victory in the battle to spoil Weymouth 140.6 and my first time racing for GB.

Despite this small issue, I had a more pressing worry on my mind. The National Sprint Relays were only 3 weeks away. I had to make a decision, and quickly, to avoid messing things up for the team. Fortunately I had promised Sarah I wouldn’t talk Tri, so I couldn’t seek her guidance and likely words of caution.

 

I tried to imagine what she would have told me had this been normal circumstances, and after careful deliberation decided it would definitely be “You must race at all costs, and not let your mates down. Your body will heal, but the shame will not”. So with Sarah’s (probable) sage advice ringing in my mind I decided to ignore my groin and stomach and crack on with my best effort.

Besides, I owed it to the other 3 who have all put a lot of effort in through-out the year, and are in great form. Assessing my own form and how I felt I knew that (without emotion or partiality) even pretty badly weakened and off form I could still give them a better account than the next best replacement they were likely to dig up if I dropped out.

With that decided I stopped worrying about it, and balanced my training as best I could, largely leaving the run out completely, as every step feels like being punched in the plums. As a team we were candid and I tabled realistic times. They continued to make me feel wanted and welcome, and it was appreciated. What really annoyed me though was the announcement that Lincoln had turned out a team at the 11^th hour, and with some long standing friendly rivalry it would have been great to have been able to go out truly fighting fit on an even footing to give it our best. Looking over the times and the form it would have been close as custard on the day normally, and any minor slip would have given it to the other team, but I knew in reality that with my 60% fitness at best it wasn’t going to happen.

The day arrived and the usual early start ensued, well on the road by 5:30am heading to the venue, the miles flying by talking Tri Trash all the way. Signed in, racked and sorted in good time we found the chairman had erected the club gazebo the night before, so settled in and got ready. Other club members slowly arrived for their racing in the afternoon and the cloudy start began to give way to  decent warm weather.

 

A cracking set up and atmosphere.

 

And so the race began, Glenn hitting the water first, handing over the band to myself and then me to Jon and finally Ross.  Everyone put down a good swim, except myself, a good 30seconds+ of what could have been expected. Still, we had the bike to go. The bike, the least hindered because of the position and nature of the effort was my best chance to not under deliver, and we all put down a good bike leg, with only slight decline in my power over the expected. I was happy with the times. The other 3 lads all more than made up for me with pretty consistent 25mph+ paces, against my 24.

Onto the run. Glenn came round the corner to hand me the band and glancing at my watch I could see he had given the run of his life. Definitely a PB. I could see he was hurting and it deserved repayment with nothing but my best. I ignored the issues and pushed through. About half way round it got the better of me, culminating in a few retches of the stomach and ultimately throwing up all over my own feet in front of the cheering crowds about 20m before I handed over the band. As classy performance as ever, but at least I could look myself in the eye and knew I had given my best. Throwing up and keeping running is a truly strange experience.

As expected we didn’t beat Lincoln. It came down to the run, and in the end they had a few minutes on us, and I was pleased to see them take the Bronze as my friends, and fly the flag for our County in the sport we love. We had been reduced from last year’s silver medal position to 5^th in the club category, and 13^th nationally overall. Not a day’s racing to remember.

Despite everything we were still some 6 minutes quicker overall than 2014, a mark firstly of the much hotter competition in the field and the improvement in the sport across the Country, & 2ndly the teams own huge improvements. Despite me under delivering they absorbed my issues and improved massively on our previous time. A great team response. I owe them one.

A team I couldn't be prouder to be part of.

After that disappointment we went back to eat lunch. By now the gazebo was alive with around 40 or 50 club members to’ing and fro’ing and there was a great atmosphere. We had 4 teams in the afternoon’s race and staying back to cheer was always a must.

If the racing was a day to forget, then the afternoon was certainly one to remember. For me spectating that day really was the highlight. It was great to see the sheer love of the sport across all the competitors, and the improvements that everyone has made over the year. Just standing and watching and hurling encouragement (and abuse where appropriate) to club members and other deserving souls was great fun. To take the time to understand the perspective of family and friends who turn out to cheer me on so often and get a taste for what it’s like. The weather helped immensely and I’m not sure I’d have had the same pleasure if it had been lashing down, but it wasn’t. There were also the inevitable odd bods, with strange ideas about bike set up, or running styles, the kit they chose to carry or wear and the methods that people employ to tackle the 3 disciplines. It was an eye opener, I learnt a lot from all kinds of competitor as they whizzed passed that I can use to improve my own game, and saw some right rare sights. Mostly though it was just a good laugh with friends, and I was proud to be part of the Club.

Moving on from that, last weekend was Louth Sprint tri. I didn’t enter, but thought I might as a last minute thing earlier in the season, but that was never on the cards with current fitness. Ella, my daughter had entered however, the only junior (13 and 4 days old) in her first adult race. Nervous, but as excited as anything. My own training over the last 2 weeks had largely been focused around rides around the course with her, at her speed, a run of a couple of miles, and swim sets with the club.
 

We got the bike ready on Saturday after helping to spray the road of all the potholes and problems on the cycle route. Registered Saturday pm, the leisure centre had a nice low key buzz of excitement in anticipation of the next day. We went home and got everything packed and prepped.

Sunday morning, and it was novel not to have to wake up at 4am to get to the race on time. We had a lay in until 7, then got up, got ready, and walked down. Un heard of!! We walked to the event !!

Ella giving it all on the run.

 

Not having any involvement in racing gave me the opportunity to focus on Cheering on Ella as a spectator from the off. Again, a novel experience, and one I really enjoyed. Another highlight was team mates at the relays now going head to head at their local event. Great sportsmanship to watch with close racing throughout.

 

The morning flew by, cheering on family and friends, dashing from pool to T1, to a place on the bike and the run to grab some action as it happened. Again it was sunny, and it went quick. I was happy to not do it, and be able to watch and ring the cow bell for all it was worth without the stress of my own turn at the starting line.

 

The highlight for me was undoubtedly Ella, finishing 113^th out of some 200 adults. She PB’d her swim by a good 10 seconds and put to bed demons from a nasty crash on the bike at Mallory Park earlier in the year. Couldn’t be prouder, and as I head off this weekend, Ella also heads off to a junior tri with some 400 other competitors. An exciting race weekend in the Ball house coming up!

So Sunday, and the European championships at Challenge Weymouth 140.6 GB debut is looming.

At this point I am a gamut of emotions. Excitement, nerves, disappointment, determination and focus. Joking aside, I am being pragmatic. I have achieved everything I set my stall out to achieve at the start of the year. It has come at a price that will ultimately effect the biggest and final race of the year, but at least I am doing it. It probably isn’t the most sensible thing to do, but I am sure any other athlete will agree that investing a years training in getting to this point, the cold winter 5am mornings, turning up at the pool before work at unearthly hours, the long nights in the garage on the turbo or slogging it out down the road, running in the wet and the cold to achieve the aims can't be wasted. It requires focus and sacrifice, and there is nothing that will make me throw that away.

After the race I can recover and heal properly but I will have gathered invaluable data and experience in the learning curve that will (hopefully) be future racing at the top level. I might not place where I know I am capable of or expect of myself  this time, but I can try,  and it will do nothing but help me at future attempts. For the experience alone it as to be worth it.

All of this of course wouldn’t have happened without the support of family and friends. As part of my drive to get to Weymouth I held a raffle to help fund the cost of entry, kit and travel. The link for the video of the draw is below - sorry I couldn't upload directly, the file was too big for Blogger. I genuinely wouldn't be racing on Sunday without the support that everyone has shown me, it really means a lot. Good luck everyone, and I promise the training program will be to suit you…. Not me!! Thank you again to everyone for your friendship and support. (Apologies for the video quality, I'm not good on camera and probably could have smiled more and spoken a bit louder).

https://youtu.be/JP276763gGE