14 Jun 2009 - UK Ironman 70.3

Four Tri-Logicals took on this year's race- see edited results below (full results attached).  Over 1200 had pre-entered, but on the day only 966 actually made it to the start line, and 897 actually finished.  Nathan had a storming race, winning his age group and finishing 20th overall and Phil looked like he was up for it all over again after the race.  Didn't see Steve afterwards, but I know he took quite a bit off his previous result, so well done to him.  Needless to say I dragged along at the back (yeah I know sounds familiar) but I loved it all the same.  If you can be bothered, read the epic race review below the results.

What a weekend! Those people at Ironman UK certainly know how to put on an event. 

After registering on Friday, the amount of stuff over and above what you normally get just blew me away.  Aside from the expected timing chip and race number, you also get red, white and blue bags to put your kit in, an A3 sheet of various stickers to attach to your kit and the bags, and then you get a wristband slapped on to identify you as a competitor. 

Transition was set up completely different to normal.  Instead of laying all your stuff neatly by your racked bike, you had to put all the relevant gear for T1 in the blue bag, T2 stuff in the red bag, then anything you wanted for after the race, e.g., extra clothing, sick bag, etc in the white bag.  These bags were then hung on pegs in separate areas, so in all you had four locations to remember instead of just the one. 

On Saturday night I hit the sack early after shovelling as much pasta as would go in and setting the alarm for 4am.  When it went off it was still that half light and a lot of mist so it was a very surreal experience making tea and trying to force a bowl of muesli down at that hour, especially as the rest of the campsite was doing the same.

By half past five, over a thousand nervous, excited triathletes were gathered ready to walk down to the lake.  By six o’clock we were still waiting.  Then came the word that the start would be delayed due to fog on the lake – not good for sighting buoys. We eventually started just after 7am, and the mass start was as bad as any that I’ve experienced before.  I didn’t find any proper clear water until I turned the farthest buoy to head for home.  I was conscious all round the swim that I wasn’t going as fast as I could, but I’d already decided before the race that I needed to hold back on the swim to ensure I had enough energy to see me through the rest of the race.

I made a schoolboy error in T1 – after squirting baby powder into my bike shoes I realised that my Blocs were tucked inside one of them.  As I didn’t have anything to clean them with, I ended up having to lick the lenses clean.  Yuk. 

The first lap of the bike went well, and I was glad that I’d recce’d the course a few weeks previous but I was shocked to see so many people fixing punctures as I went round – I lost count after 20.  On the second lap, I felt a twinge in my right quad as I speeded up to overtake someone on a straight bit, but it went away so I carried on. But when I got halfway up the nasty hill before Morebath, I could feel it again, and I was sure it was about to tear or worse. I realised that to carry on pushing would jeopardise my chance of finishing the cycle, let alone the race, so I unclipped and pushed the bike up the rest of the hill. 

The same happened at the long horrible drag up Hadden Hill, and I knew I was losing time and might cut it fine for the bike cut-off but I had no choice.  By the last few miles I was very saddle sore, so when I eventually finished the bike leg, delicate bits of my anatomy were very grateful!  Even with the quad problem, I made it back with over twenty minutes to spare to the cut-off.  It was such a big relief to know that my chances of finishing the race were a lot higher now that the bike leg was over.

T2 was very frustrating as when I got to my peg, my bag wasn’t there!  I had checked and double-checked that I had racked my bags correctly so I just couldn’t believe what my eyes were telling me.  I thought of doing the run in my cycle shoes but quickly abandoned that idea – I wouldn’t make it to the end of the road in those. I threw a bit of a paddy, and my bag was eventually found – a transition marshal had handed it to another competitor by mistake, doh. 

The least said about the run, the better.  It was after midday by this point, and the sun was sweltering.  I’d tried to drink and eat as much as possible on the bike, but there was no way you could rehydrate properly in that heat, as it was being sweated out straight away.  My calves felt like big knots, and my quad was sore, so I made a pact with myself that if I walked the worst hills, I would run the rest.  This stood me in good stead, and heaven knows how many gels I necked during those 13 miles, but it certainly did the trick to keep me going.  I was so ecstatic when I ran down the finishers straight I was clapping the crowd for their fantastic support and high-fiving the marshals.  I couldn’t resist running over the line waving my arms in the air and shrieking like a loon.

So. Was it worth the £160 entry fee plus the cost of two camping trips to Wimbleball, not to mention several months of training?  You bet it was.  It is easy to underestimate the physical and mental strength and endurance needed to keep yourself going, but having completed the toughest 70.3 course in the world I feel like I can achieve anything I put my mind to.

Angie