Monday, August 17, 2009
the mysteriously changing run to the finish!
The run route had changed mysteriously and wasn’t what it had been on the map (supposed to be out towards the town centre with a bit of an out and back in the first half and a twirly loopy bit towards the end). So combined with this surprise change and the fact it was also quite hilly and that i was hobbling, i had no idea how to visualise it ( it became an out and back and back again after about 7k then a mile to the end). What was really doing my head in (and everyone else’s as i found out later) was that there were no distance markers! So there was no way of knowing where you were, what you’d done and how far still to go! Everyone was asking everyone else on the way – madness! Asking the marshalls was fruitless also as they all kept giving different answers which was so demoralising (especially when you’re having to walk it!). There was a strange bit round a park which you did at the end of each out and back and many people went wrong as they weren’t sure where to go and how many times! The rest of the run was mainly along a busy main road – not very exciting – and a bit along a canal and through some suburbs.
As it was quite lonely on the second lap (i still couldn’t run but was out-striding the other stragglers) sometimes I felt a bit daft walking along a main road wearing a race number. Most of the stragglers were smiling and supporting each other as we passed but there was one nasty guy who said to me ‘good luck hon’ sarcastically and laughed to his mate! That just made me even more determined to finish and anyway, he was walking!! The people of Bolton were very nice and supportive but at one point i got mobbed by a crowd of young hooligans who were surrounding me and trying to trip me up (quite easy really, i was having problems with kerbs never mind small bullies) riling me about walking when i should be running and one trying to leap on me presumably to grab my sunnies! As it got dark and i was still out there with only the shadows and the owls for company i was waiting for an official to jump out with glowsticks but none came. In fact scarier than the teenage bullies was having to walk along the canal path in the dark. There was an aid station just before the start of it and i asked them if it was safe. They seemed more interested in force feeding me power gels so off i went. Maaan it was scary! Pitch black and all i could think of was axe murderers leaping out of the shadows! I couldn’t believe they didn’t have someone at least going up and down on a bike to check the stragglers hadn’t fallen in the canal/been attacked by werewolves etc etc. At the end of the canal bit i couldn’t even find the pathway that took you away from it back to the road it was so dark! The park later on was the same – you couldn’t actually see the cones and tape until you fell over them!
Finally, after 8 last long miles of random bunches of marshalls/happy bystanders/cheerleaders telling me variously i was anywhere between 8 miles and 3 and a half miles to the end (but not in order – i got something like 8, 7, 5, 4and half, 3, back to 5 then four and half then only 2 then back to 3 – aaargh! how to mess with an irongirl’s already frazzled mind!!) i got back to a cone junction in the park i nearly fell over and could dimly pick out the vague shape of a person. He turned out to be one of the race crew/new guardian angel and escorted me through the last of the pitch black bits agreeing with me how crap the race was! Then he grabbed my hand and made me run towards to the finish line (pain blocked out then – i could NOT walk up the finish chute!!) and there i was, FINALLY – a long long day out and an embarrassing finish time of 16.30 something 33? 34? Don’t know just too crap! But hey i got round, there were several points where i thought i might not make the cut off and how awful that would have been!! The worst thing is i actually trained for this one! Anyway i am still 6 X Irongirl and that’s what matters ;-)
phew, got there!
As it was quite lonely on the second lap (i still couldn’t run but was out-striding the other stragglers) sometimes I felt a bit daft walking along a main road wearing a race number. Most of the stragglers were smiling and supporting each other as we passed but there was one nasty guy who said to me ‘good luck hon’ sarcastically and laughed to his mate! That just made me even more determined to finish and anyway, he was walking!! The people of Bolton were very nice and supportive but at one point i got mobbed by a crowd of young hooligans who were surrounding me and trying to trip me up (quite easy really, i was having problems with kerbs never mind small bullies) riling me about walking when i should be running and one trying to leap on me presumably to grab my sunnies! As it got dark and i was still out there with only the shadows and the owls for company i was waiting for an official to jump out with glowsticks but none came. In fact scarier than the teenage bullies was having to walk along the canal path in the dark. There was an aid station just before the start of it and i asked them if it was safe. They seemed more interested in force feeding me power gels so off i went. Maaan it was scary! Pitch black and all i could think of was axe murderers leaping out of the shadows! I couldn’t believe they didn’t have someone at least going up and down on a bike to check the stragglers hadn’t fallen in the canal/been attacked by werewolves etc etc. At the end of the canal bit i couldn’t even find the pathway that took you away from it back to the road it was so dark! The park later on was the same – you couldn’t actually see the cones and tape until you fell over them!
Finally, after 8 last long miles of random bunches of marshalls/happy bystanders/cheerleaders telling me variously i was anywhere between 8 miles and 3 and a half miles to the end (but not in order – i got something like 8, 7, 5, 4and half, 3, back to 5 then four and half then only 2 then back to 3 – aaargh! how to mess with an irongirl’s already frazzled mind!!) i got back to a cone junction in the park i nearly fell over and could dimly pick out the vague shape of a person. He turned out to be one of the race crew/new guardian angel and escorted me through the last of the pitch black bits agreeing with me how crap the race was! Then he grabbed my hand and made me run towards to the finish line (pain blocked out then – i could NOT walk up the finish chute!!) and there i was, FINALLY – a long long day out and an embarrassing finish time of 16.30 something 33? 34? Don’t know just too crap! But hey i got round, there were several points where i thought i might not make the cut off and how awful that would have been!! The worst thing is i actually trained for this one! Anyway i am still 6 X Irongirl and that’s what matters ;-)
phew, got there!
the neverending 180k bike
I was a shivering wreck getting out of the swim but was not the only one to leave the wetsuit fully on to keep some kind of ‘warmth’ until i got into the tent. The swim exit consisted of a sharp uphill giving way to an uphill path to T1 which was miles away and the path was hard to run on as the slithery mud was hard to navigate especially with numb feet . I grabbed my swim to bike bag and sat with a mass of shivering wet bodies in the tent and miserably considered my options. The ‘pull yourself together’ one kicked in pretty quickly but it was hard to act as i was so cold I literally had no feeling in my hands to open the bag! Error number Two (Error Number One was signing up for the darned race) was not to put a change of top in my bag, I stupidly thought my transitions were going to be so slick that i would only need to wear my tri suit throughout. Yeah right! But as i pulled on my winter cycling fleece over soaking wet tri top and the windcheater jacket on the top of that, i was really envious of everyone else putting on dry clothing.
exiting T1 wearing 100 layers, ha!
My legs especially my right calf and left foot were cramping up throughout the swim and i hoped that the pedalling would sort that out. I slodged through the mudfest (not ideal when wearing white compression socks) (to keep me warm, never mind the compression properties) oh and good luck to people who had attached their shoes to their pedals – the decision was against that, you really needed the welly boots to get to the mount line then hop on the bike! People were trying to get on their bikes at the line then slithering in the mud and falling off again! What a palava. After the slithering up the muddy lane where a mountain bike would most definitely have been useful it was straight up the steepest series of climbs of the bike course, so so much for having time to pedal out the cramp!
It was bleak out on those moors and once up the highest of the climbs it was down the only road that was downhill (and was only about 300m long) then the first of the real technical turns (if you don’t count the turn where a few people flew off their bikes almost into a lake) and then onto the rest of the 3 lap course. It was a mad course with so many twists and turns and mostly uphill with a bit of flat in between. I was surprised to see so much traffic on an ironman course by the time the 2nd and 3rd laps came round it was really busy on a lot of roads and cyclists were getting hemmed in by the cars and twice i had to unclip and stop quickly because someone had pulled up in front of me!! So dangerous.
no wonder i was so slow with all those coats on!
The third bike lap seemed to take Forever it was really the never ending bike lap. I couldn’t believe i’d been on the bike for over eight hours when i was aiming for six and a half and i was happy to finally get to the line and give Mr Felt away (sorry mr felt but at this point i would have gladly handed him over to absolutely anyone who would have him!)
I made the bike cutoff by only 30 minutes i think that’s probably a reverse PB but felt a bit better later when i heard that many people didn’t make the cutoff. I sat dismally in the transition tent and chatted to the other girls who were discussing why the hell we were doing this (see – my transition plan had totally gone out of the window!!). I traipsed through the mud again and trotted up the lane actually feeling fine and happy to be free of the bike but was a bit concerned about what felt like a pulled hammy. I only got about 500m into the run when my right leg seized up completely and i thought oh damn now what??! I stretched and walked a bit and then tried to trot off again – the annoying thing was that i’d found my running head and i was so feeling fresh and not at all fazed by the 42ks ahead but the damn leg kept seizing up and forcing me to walk. About 5ks in the pain moved down the leg and i ended up feeling like i had a knife stuck in the side and back of my knee and in my ankle and i was fine walking but running hurt like hell and in fact just wasn’t happening. I hadn’t suffered through the worst ever swim and bike to bale now so i decided to plough on regardless but just power hobble the best I could!
exiting T1 wearing 100 layers, ha!
My legs especially my right calf and left foot were cramping up throughout the swim and i hoped that the pedalling would sort that out. I slodged through the mudfest (not ideal when wearing white compression socks) (to keep me warm, never mind the compression properties) oh and good luck to people who had attached their shoes to their pedals – the decision was against that, you really needed the welly boots to get to the mount line then hop on the bike! People were trying to get on their bikes at the line then slithering in the mud and falling off again! What a palava. After the slithering up the muddy lane where a mountain bike would most definitely have been useful it was straight up the steepest series of climbs of the bike course, so so much for having time to pedal out the cramp!
It was bleak out on those moors and once up the highest of the climbs it was down the only road that was downhill (and was only about 300m long) then the first of the real technical turns (if you don’t count the turn where a few people flew off their bikes almost into a lake) and then onto the rest of the 3 lap course. It was a mad course with so many twists and turns and mostly uphill with a bit of flat in between. I was surprised to see so much traffic on an ironman course by the time the 2nd and 3rd laps came round it was really busy on a lot of roads and cyclists were getting hemmed in by the cars and twice i had to unclip and stop quickly because someone had pulled up in front of me!! So dangerous.
no wonder i was so slow with all those coats on!
The third bike lap seemed to take Forever it was really the never ending bike lap. I couldn’t believe i’d been on the bike for over eight hours when i was aiming for six and a half and i was happy to finally get to the line and give Mr Felt away (sorry mr felt but at this point i would have gladly handed him over to absolutely anyone who would have him!)
I made the bike cutoff by only 30 minutes i think that’s probably a reverse PB but felt a bit better later when i heard that many people didn’t make the cutoff. I sat dismally in the transition tent and chatted to the other girls who were discussing why the hell we were doing this (see – my transition plan had totally gone out of the window!!). I traipsed through the mud again and trotted up the lane actually feeling fine and happy to be free of the bike but was a bit concerned about what felt like a pulled hammy. I only got about 500m into the run when my right leg seized up completely and i thought oh damn now what??! I stretched and walked a bit and then tried to trot off again – the annoying thing was that i’d found my running head and i was so feeling fresh and not at all fazed by the 42ks ahead but the damn leg kept seizing up and forcing me to walk. About 5ks in the pain moved down the leg and i ended up feeling like i had a knife stuck in the side and back of my knee and in my ankle and i was fine walking but running hurt like hell and in fact just wasn’t happening. I hadn’t suffered through the worst ever swim and bike to bale now so i decided to plough on regardless but just power hobble the best I could!
So finally after leaving the bikes and bags we looked like we’d been mud wrestling and walked back up the lane that the next morning would be the first road we would ride on and hoped that they might try to clean it up a bit as the general opinion was we may be better off with mountain bikes. From there we went to the briefing in the Reebok stadium and i met the American guy who does all the Ironman announcing and is a great character and never forgets me and gave me a big hug, bless. The briefing was quite amusing as no one really seemed to know what was going on with the course and the parking/transport to the race and the majority of people stayed behind for Q&As as there were loads! One guy asked if he could leave his car in the race car park until Monday and he was told yes and he said well that’s good because it’s stuck and i can’t get it out of the mud! Ha! The race organisers seemed to be thrown by the weather which i think is a bit strange as if you are organising a big race in the north of England whatever the time of year surely you would have a contingency plan?? Or at least expect some rain??
Race morning dawned early and the holiday inn ironpeople were down at 3am scoffing breakfast in nervous silence. It’s at that point that you start asking yourself serious questions as to what the hell you were ever thinking signing up for an ironman – in my case in signing up for yet another one! We ended up getting a taxi which was the best manoeuvre as there was no race parking at the venue due to the Glastonbury fields and the other option was to drive to the reebok stadium and then get bussed from there which was a bit messy and then you had to still get your car back later or the next day anyway.
So it was more lovely mud sludging back to the transition area to set up the bikes (for people who have read my previous race reports, this time i didn’t bring my broken pump and roll of sellotape to fix it together i just asked some random guy who was busy with his own bike to pump up my tyres as i had a broken pump and i was a bit pathetic anyway on race morning!) . Mr Felt was ready despite being a bit huffy about his scruffy race feet, and we hung about next to him acquiring a fine range of new nervous pals until it was time to remove all the layers and put on the wetsuit over the mud. We were then corralled together like the cows that evidently normally live in the transition area and were shuffled down the lane towards the swim start with people getting their shoes sucked off them by the black mud stuff as we went. It was revolting and freezing. I ended up having to throw my flip flop things away as they were beyond hope of ever being wearable again.
a grey looking swim course
Mind you, the reservoir that was the scene of our swim was even more freezing. I spent the first ten minutes having a panic attack at the cold and literally not being able to move at all or get my face in the water – so much for the line of attack.! I was on the front line but couldn’t breathe or move my frozen limbs!.I heard of at least one person that got out because of the cold so at least i didn’t do that though it did cross my mind. I sort of expected that i’d warm up a bit at least as the swim went on but i just got colder and colder and colder and if the swim had been any longer i swear i would have had to have been fished out. So much for my hoped for PB swim time – even my ‘worse case slow time’ went out the window - great start then! Other people later said their times were also slower due to the current (didn’t notice that) and the theory that the swim was longer (well i guess it always seems that way!) i didn’t notice anything except for the cold and the increasing loss of feeling in my limbs so i guess my focus was taken up totally on the small matter of finding some way of keeping on going before i morphed into Iciclegirl.
Race morning dawned early and the holiday inn ironpeople were down at 3am scoffing breakfast in nervous silence. It’s at that point that you start asking yourself serious questions as to what the hell you were ever thinking signing up for an ironman – in my case in signing up for yet another one! We ended up getting a taxi which was the best manoeuvre as there was no race parking at the venue due to the Glastonbury fields and the other option was to drive to the reebok stadium and then get bussed from there which was a bit messy and then you had to still get your car back later or the next day anyway.
So it was more lovely mud sludging back to the transition area to set up the bikes (for people who have read my previous race reports, this time i didn’t bring my broken pump and roll of sellotape to fix it together i just asked some random guy who was busy with his own bike to pump up my tyres as i had a broken pump and i was a bit pathetic anyway on race morning!) . Mr Felt was ready despite being a bit huffy about his scruffy race feet, and we hung about next to him acquiring a fine range of new nervous pals until it was time to remove all the layers and put on the wetsuit over the mud. We were then corralled together like the cows that evidently normally live in the transition area and were shuffled down the lane towards the swim start with people getting their shoes sucked off them by the black mud stuff as we went. It was revolting and freezing. I ended up having to throw my flip flop things away as they were beyond hope of ever being wearable again.
a grey looking swim course
Mind you, the reservoir that was the scene of our swim was even more freezing. I spent the first ten minutes having a panic attack at the cold and literally not being able to move at all or get my face in the water – so much for the line of attack.! I was on the front line but couldn’t breathe or move my frozen limbs!.I heard of at least one person that got out because of the cold so at least i didn’t do that though it did cross my mind. I sort of expected that i’d warm up a bit at least as the swim went on but i just got colder and colder and colder and if the swim had been any longer i swear i would have had to have been fished out. So much for my hoped for PB swim time – even my ‘worse case slow time’ went out the window - great start then! Other people later said their times were also slower due to the current (didn’t notice that) and the theory that the swim was longer (well i guess it always seems that way!) i didn’t notice anything except for the cold and the increasing loss of feeling in my limbs so i guess my focus was taken up totally on the small matter of finding some way of keeping on going before i morphed into Iciclegirl.
meeting up with ironbuddy Carole and racking the bikes and bags
The next day, Saturday, i met up with a fellow ironman buddy, Carole, who I’d met in Austria. She had been staying at the same guesthouse as me (see extensive Austria report on my blog for details of that) with a bunch of her mates including one who knew Angus who trains with me in Dubai (small world and all that but won’t go into that now). So she also booked into the Holiday Inn so we could hang around together and provide some moral support. It was nice to have a friend to kick around with especially when it was a bit of a drag out of town to the race venue and good to have a navigator.
An aside here but the Holiday Inn guests were a curious contrast of a series of wedding parties over the weekend and Ironpeople. So in the lift or the lobby there’d be people in their finery holding glasses of wine and someone with a bike and wearing wellies or mud splattered legs. It was like there was a glass wall between us as the two contrasting bunches of people were so at polar opposites to the other. One evening myself and Carole could barely stifle our giggles in the lift as this trussed up champagne bearing couple looked at us with such disdain.
Anyway back to the Saturday, after brekky and a good catch up we went to check in our bikes and when we got there we were turned back by a ferocious marshall type person who said we’d have to come back at 6pm because the mashed up field car park was closed because of the waterlogging. We said stuff that and along with a bunch of other increasingly stressy pre IM race day triathletes drove past him up onto the narrow lane and found a space, shoved the police cone out of the way and stuffed the car half way up a grass verge. Other people were doing the same. I mean who was going to come back in the evening before the race to rack the bike and bags??!
When we got nearer down the lane between the campsite and the transition area/expo returning ironpeople were warning us to take off our shoes to wade through the mud!! They were not joking. The queue to check in consisted of people standing knee deep in a particularly dark sticky smelly combination of churned up mud and cowshit and holding aloft their precious bikes and bike/run bags. It really was very smelly a bit like standing in a sewer. Nice. Taking the bike over to the transition area (see pics)
a bit of mud!
on the way to rack the bike!
was gross, people who still had shoes or wellies on were losing them into the quicksand type mud and we were sliding and falling about trying to keep upright. Mr Felt was so not impressed cos his shiny zipps were not so shiny anymore and were covered in mud by the time he got racked so he was bit sniffy with me as i think he thought it was affecting his modelling career. What a diva.
An aside here but the Holiday Inn guests were a curious contrast of a series of wedding parties over the weekend and Ironpeople. So in the lift or the lobby there’d be people in their finery holding glasses of wine and someone with a bike and wearing wellies or mud splattered legs. It was like there was a glass wall between us as the two contrasting bunches of people were so at polar opposites to the other. One evening myself and Carole could barely stifle our giggles in the lift as this trussed up champagne bearing couple looked at us with such disdain.
Anyway back to the Saturday, after brekky and a good catch up we went to check in our bikes and when we got there we were turned back by a ferocious marshall type person who said we’d have to come back at 6pm because the mashed up field car park was closed because of the waterlogging. We said stuff that and along with a bunch of other increasingly stressy pre IM race day triathletes drove past him up onto the narrow lane and found a space, shoved the police cone out of the way and stuffed the car half way up a grass verge. Other people were doing the same. I mean who was going to come back in the evening before the race to rack the bike and bags??!
When we got nearer down the lane between the campsite and the transition area/expo returning ironpeople were warning us to take off our shoes to wade through the mud!! They were not joking. The queue to check in consisted of people standing knee deep in a particularly dark sticky smelly combination of churned up mud and cowshit and holding aloft their precious bikes and bike/run bags. It really was very smelly a bit like standing in a sewer. Nice. Taking the bike over to the transition area (see pics)
a bit of mud!
on the way to rack the bike!
was gross, people who still had shoes or wellies on were losing them into the quicksand type mud and we were sliding and falling about trying to keep upright. Mr Felt was so not impressed cos his shiny zipps were not so shiny anymore and were covered in mud by the time he got racked so he was bit sniffy with me as i think he thought it was affecting his modelling career. What a diva.
IMuck part two: registering and Mr Felt stars again!
So off i went to register and the field the expo was in was like a quagmire and so was the campsite next to it. Everyone from the UK was well prepared and had brought their wellie boots so it looked a bit like the Glastonbury of triathlon except there were no bands and no one was drunk (yet). Not that anyone could even get a nice hot cup of tea and an iced bun as the mobile cafe things weren’t open (and this was the Friday before the race so the main day for registration!)
Mr Felt went to have a crucial piece fixed which cost 2 pounds then they charged me another 15 pounds (about 135AED) for attaching it – couldn’t believe it! (Then later on when i came to pack him up i discovered that the idiot overcharging mechanic had tightened the pedals so much (or glued them??) that not even the combined force of my parents’ neighbours who are quite handy could get them off! They are stuck on for life i think! ) So we grumpily trudged back across the quagmire where we went to look at the kswiss stand (not much to see at the expo, just kswiss and a TriUk marquee, bit crap compared to other races but good when you don’t have much money left!)
Mr Felt was in his element at the k swiss stand as he got very admired and had his photo taken a lot. He likes this. People think he’s a top end bike just cos he’s wearing his borrowed zipps (but don’t tell Mr Felt i said that...). the kswiss people asked us if we’d done any modelling before (cos we were obviously so natural at it ;-) lol) i said yes but as the 2007 2XU model, not wrapped in 5 layers of clothing and covered in mud. Not quite the same.
mr felt being admired by kswiss people
Mr Felt went to have a crucial piece fixed which cost 2 pounds then they charged me another 15 pounds (about 135AED) for attaching it – couldn’t believe it! (Then later on when i came to pack him up i discovered that the idiot overcharging mechanic had tightened the pedals so much (or glued them??) that not even the combined force of my parents’ neighbours who are quite handy could get them off! They are stuck on for life i think! ) So we grumpily trudged back across the quagmire where we went to look at the kswiss stand (not much to see at the expo, just kswiss and a TriUk marquee, bit crap compared to other races but good when you don’t have much money left!)
Mr Felt was in his element at the k swiss stand as he got very admired and had his photo taken a lot. He likes this. People think he’s a top end bike just cos he’s wearing his borrowed zipps (but don’t tell Mr Felt i said that...). the kswiss people asked us if we’d done any modelling before (cos we were obviously so natural at it ;-) lol) i said yes but as the 2007 2XU model, not wrapped in 5 layers of clothing and covered in mud. Not quite the same.
mr felt being admired by kswiss people
Ironman UK! part one - getting there!
IMUK 09 race report by Julie (Irongirl) (well sort of)
So, my reasons for doing IMUK (it’s a choice that needs justifying!!) were to combine doing a race and seeing my family and also as an Irongirl from the UK I have to do one in the UK , right?? Not that i was overkeen from the offset as i am a real warm weather person and hate swimming in the cold. Especially when you know that when you get out of the arctic water it’s not going to be much warmer outside!
So as usual for the UK in summer, the plane landed in Manchester in the rain, i drove to Bolton – in the rain and the next day drove to the race venue (bit tricky to find) – in the rain – the parking (which you had to pay for) was in a field about half a mile away from the expo (also in a field) (in the rain). Well when i did Austria 70.3 in May the parking was also in a field however this is north west England and anything can happen with the weather and usually does. And did.
So, my reasons for doing IMUK (it’s a choice that needs justifying!!) were to combine doing a race and seeing my family and also as an Irongirl from the UK I have to do one in the UK , right?? Not that i was overkeen from the offset as i am a real warm weather person and hate swimming in the cold. Especially when you know that when you get out of the arctic water it’s not going to be much warmer outside!
So as usual for the UK in summer, the plane landed in Manchester in the rain, i drove to Bolton – in the rain and the next day drove to the race venue (bit tricky to find) – in the rain – the parking (which you had to pay for) was in a field about half a mile away from the expo (also in a field) (in the rain). Well when i did Austria 70.3 in May the parking was also in a field however this is north west England and anything can happen with the weather and usually does. And did.
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