Cotswold standard distance triathlon

Don't you get bored of hearing people's accounts of races that start at the begining, and recount the whole day right to pulling up outside their house afterward?  Well, here's another one!  No, I will try to reflect on the event in order of significance rather than chronological order - and if it doesn't work I won't do it again.

Most importantly, I completed the swim, 1,500m in a lake - not last, pretty much at the back, but very comfortable.  My main issue was boredom to be honest; the only thing you get to look at is murky water and the occasional smeary image of a yellow buoy.  Sound is virtually non-existent, although the taste of the water is entertaining, especially when swimming behind someone.  Anyway, I tootled along, refusing to put pressure on myself, and as a result smashed up a huge psychological barrier to the Brecon Titan - I now know I will be able to swim that.

Another significance was the number of people who wanted to talk to me about my fundraising.  I suppose that really means they were willing to listen in the first place as I brought the subject up.  I was approached on the finish line by one of the organisers as they had asked people to give a little information about themselves and she wanted to know more of my story.  So, yet again I found myself being photographed at a sporting event with my hair stuck up by wind and sweat.  And then, as I was wearing a hospice running vest, a St Peter's Hospice nurse introduced herself to me!  Oh, busy me.

Cycling.  Supposed to be my strength.  Well, not today.  I had little strength in my legs until the last 10 miles by which time it was too late.  I don't know why, but I do know that when people start slowing down I can keep powering through.  I suspect overtraining, as I was cramping in the water before the cycling started and had felt crampy yesterday.

The sun - oh, the sun! The thought of competing in an event like that in driving rain is off-putting to say the least.  I am grateful that so far, all three of the tri's I have done, have been in clear brght weather.  I got a cup of tea afterwards and just basked by the car.  In fact, I scared some passing dog-walkers by doing a little impromptu yoga, then drove home playing reggae very loudly.

Running proved to be slightly better than the cycling; I felt fairly good and overtook a good number of people.  The same applied as the cycling; the more tired people are the more I start to overtake.  I therefore need to work on speed rather than endurance.

The other thing I need to work on is transitions with a wetsuit.  I did the sort of change that people put on You-Tube, flailing around as if I was wrestling with a huge octopus.  Eventually I gave up, sat down and peeled the bloody thing off, wasting at least a minute.  I know what to do, but the wetsuit was in a contrary mood.

So, to sum up in a chronologically final sort of way; I had a great time, I was so much more comfortable competing, and got a bit sunburnt.  Oh, and when I got back, next-door were having a barbecue and I sat and had a cheeky cider with them.  Quality.

swim - 152nd       cycle - 45th          run - 48th      Out of 185 finishers, but a more serious level than last week.  Oh, and 5th gnarly supervet.

Cotswold Super Sprint Triathlon

We've all seen those pictures of triathletes lining up at the edge of the water - identical wetsuits and swimming caps making them look like shop manikins.  Then suddenly, a great shout and all are instantly animated: hurling themselves into the water like demented Reggie Perrins (young people may need to google that).
Well, that was me this morning: stood in a foot of slighty swampy water and ignoring the dislocation of being in a new situation - not to mention that all around me were similarly nervous and swim-hatted men.  Sensibly lingering toward the back, I waited until the excitable ones had thrashed off before making my first foray into open water swimming, and only then launching myself toward the buoy that seemed so far away but was only the start of it.

400m - come on, we do that as a warm-up!  Yes, but for a multitude of reasons swimming in the open seems so very much harder; to the extent that absolutely everything I have learned about swimming in the last three months was suddenly useless. 'Come on, relax, breathe, start bilateral breathing, relax, kick in threes, relax', turned into 'oh shit, perhaps I could drop out, how will I manage next week when I have to swim 1,500m in the same lake, oh god I have swallowed a pike, despite the buoyancy of the wetsuit I seem to be sinking, oh shit'.  However, due to the mercy of the bountiful gods of panic and finite distance, somehow I reached the ramp out of the water.  Hauled up by a marshal who by the end of the day must have one really tired arm, and that was the torture over.

I waddled to my bike, which I was as pleased to see as an old friend, put my helmet and number on with as much control as my chilled hands would allow, and headed out.  Of course, cycling wasn't immediately available, as first you need to carry out one of the unspoken disciplines - running in cycling shoes.  This event was particularly lengthy in this section, and so the spectators were treated to a good number of people dressed in little more than a one piece vest-and-pants outfit, running as if they were Bambi on ice.

Out on the road and I was in my element. I had driven the course the night before and so knew what to expect; gear up, head pushed forward like the Challenger space shuttle, and pick off all the people who were rude enough to swim faster than me.  This bit was great after the water torture and I watched my computer clock up toward 25mph.  The roads were fast, there were so many cyclists around that cars had to wait for us, and as a relatively short distance it was just a case of enjoying it.

My second transition was faster than the first and I was quickly out on the run course with loads of spectators around. The run was just a bit of 'way-hey!'  It was too short for me to do myself justice so I made a point of enjoying it.

Over the line, bottle of water, medal, walk around in circles, quick post mortem with some team-mates, job done.

So, reflections.  Swimming.  'nuff said.  I was slightly heartened by advice on the finish line that of course I will be fine next week, just take it steady, have plenty of rests and breast-stroke it if necessary.  I consoled myself with the fact that at the very worst there will be a canoe to drag me back to shore if my limbs lose the will to live.

However, the results tell a story;

Swimming - 242nd     Running - 68th    Cycling - 71st

Top 25% overall, no real tiredness, just a black cloud full of weedy, fishy lake water hanging over my head.  Well, at least I know what to focus on.

Let's not forget why I am doing this - in memory of Karin, and as a build-up to the Titan to raise money for the hospice.  As we have all said loads of times before, competing is much easier than getting secondary cancer, and we can drop out if we need.




Post - script.

I found out about a lake in north Bristol - and on Monday afternoon took myself off there to break the swimming fear.  Here is what I found out;

 - I can (and did) swim 2.5km in open water

 - breathing is constricted by the wetsuit, hence the feeling of panicky breathlessness.  It wasn't me, it was the suit!

 - the wetsuit feels loads better if it is 'preloaded' with water before swimming, by pulling out the neck

 - everyone feels panicky at times - the guy who came second in the swim had to stop at one point because he was in a state

 - next week's 1,500m swim is actually do-able.  By me.



Please consider clicking on the right to make a donation to St Peter's Hospice - many thanks.  If I wasn't raising money there is no way I would be entering triathlons.