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Back in the UK, and having spent 3 days of hectic jet-lagged rushing around in London to catch up with a few friends, unpack and repack gear for my next destination - chez Maman– I’m finally settled to recommence training. Here’s my sister, Lotte, and I out on a short spin out on the roads around Somerset.

Lotte is training for her second marathon and her first triathlon, Windsor. This was also my first tri and im encouraging Lotte to try and beat my time there -which was 2:29. She’s certainly capable of doing that. As with many people new to the sport and showing early promise, the risk is injury. After a very impressive 3:40 at her first ever marathon a year ago, we started playing with speed work with a view to smashing that time at Luton last December. Of course, Lotte simply did not have the miles in her legs to cope with an increased volume and intensity in her run training and eventually had to pull out of the race due to injury which has persisted into the first few months of this year. That was a lesson learned for both of us –though she appeared to be coping fantastically with everything I gave her, always doing just a bit more than set, her legs were just not up to it and were unable to keep up with her rapid fitness gains. But, she’s ok now, and by following a moderate run training schedule is on track for a good race at London Marathon in April. I am advising against any sort of speed work, or running at above half marathon pace and plenty of cross training - which is where the triathlon comes in!

As you can see from the picture, the weather is wonderful – it’s been very mild since our arrival back in the UK, the daffs are blooming and it looks like we’ve done winter and are getting on with spring already. Sure, that’s brave talk, but today I’m feeling it. I’ve finally managed to shake the jet lag and sleep a through a normal night (although I did crash out on the sofa for the entire duration of ‘About a Boy’ much to the amusement of mum and Lotte, I think that was due to the combination of cheese, wine and a very dull movie! ;o) ) and felt refreshed and keen to get out. I’m pretty pleased with myself for managing to strip down Lotte’s bike to give it a good clean, disassemble the rear brake which had seized AND managed to put it all back together again. Somehow its more fun to do this for someone else than work on my own bike, which really needs a bit of a sorting out…..but every time I think about it, I want to go to sleep!

The ride was short but I still feel that it was more than enough for me and din pt join my sister for her run. Despite not killing my legs during the race ( blowing up on the run has it’s advantages) the travel and everything else has taken it’s toll and I don’t want to rush back into training before I’m properly recovered. I know that the next few months Scott will not have an easy time in store for me, and since I am on a mission to redeem myself I want to be ready to give it 101%.

IMNZ race report

Despite being literally the first into transition at 5am, without Mr. Punctual Lord for company, I still found myself making my way to the start of the swim with not many minutes to spare. A warm up consisting of the swim out to the start line was sufficient, I thought. By chance I had managed to find a good spot to start from and experienced no crowding or kicking at all when the gun went off. This remained the case for the entire swim – the worst aggression being dealt by myself as I instinctively reacted to someone trying to swim over my legs with a sharp breasts-stroke kick. I felt pretty awful when it connected very solidly with a soft body and dared not look around, fearing a red card from a kayak marshal…but aside from this, and the inexplicable ‘squeezing’ as we passed each buoy (as if everyone felt that it was necessary to swim up to, and touch, the buoys on their way round the course) my experience of the swim was very calm. I felt that I was swimming well – focused and with a steady level of effort, for some of the time hanging on feet and chasing other ahead for a bit more speed periodically. I exited the water in 63 minutes – a bit slower than my optimal target, but fast than the time than I was expecting based on my recent swim training. The long and crowd-lined run into T1 provided plenty of excitement and the chance to pass a few more people.

It was a fast transition, despite putting on more clothing than usual because of the cool and wet conditions – tri top, arm warmers, compression socks and the lovely new waterproof gilet that I’d purchased the day before. Because of the wet weather and grassy transition, I also put my bike shoes on for the run to my bike….

As we rode out, Steven was there telling me I was 10 places down and about 5 minutes behind the lead. Keeping in mind the advice about ‘patience on the bike’ I kept an eye on my Powertap as we rode out of town and up the hill. The numbers seemed a little strange – very high. I could not really believe that I was riding at those watts, but thought that adrenaline may be playing tricks on my legs and levels of perceived effort. Keep it steady, drink some water and get some food in was the plan or the 1st 30 -40 minutes. Still the power numbers looked high… but I felt very comfortable and I was not willing to drop back off the pace of the group I was riding with. Pretty soon it was clear that the power data was doing something screwy when the numbers made a rapid drop, and eventually just sat between 0 and 15 watts. O it was back to old style riding which involved finding some riders to keep pace with, passing any female that I could see ahead and/or keeping up pace with any female rider who passed me. In the fist quarter of the course I passed two girls and 2 passed me – we would to and fro a little through the ride before I eventually came in ahead of them. There was sufficiently little wind out there that it was hard to tell whether there was a head or a tail wind. During the second quarter, the first time back from the far turnaround, the rain showers started …and my cycle computer eventually decided that was too much, and packed in. bummer. Lucky I had started the chronograph on my wrist watch and was able to use the ride time display on the Powertap (still reading 0 watts but measuring speed) I figured that I had to finish the ride in 6 hours 30 total to be in with a good chance of my sub 10 hour target, and the maths kept me entertained for that tough stretch of the ride. On the back way out of town for the second lap, the Powertap sprang back to life and was giving readings which tallied with my perceived effort and I was able to use this t maintain an effort for the next hours or so. This was the best stretch of riding – speedy Iron-virgin Stephen Thompson caught and passed me at the start of the second lap, and we exchanged a bit of banter as we changed positions a few times during this leg of the ride. I think it helped us both keep on pace. I concentrated on keeping my power at target race watts, eating and drinking and keeping and looking out for the many people that I knew out on the course to give a shout to. The final leg back to town was tough. I found my power dropping very easily and it became more and more of a conscious effort to get back onto target watts. I wondered if the ‘tap was working or not but felt that it was quite likely that I was a little cooked. Still, I was passing more riders than passed me and I was motivating myself by racing for the 6:30 hours back to town. With 20k to do in 30 min I realized that I would miss that deadline…but 10 hours was still achievable if I ran the sort of marathon I was hoping to.

Steven yelling that I was 11 minutes down at the start of the run and to ‘ unleash it now’ motivated me to start out at a very fast pace. I had exited transition with one of the girls in my age group who I’d been vying with through out the ride and to avoid a shoulder to shoulder battle through the marathon wanted to shake her off quickly. The first km was pretty painful for me, but I could hear by her breathing that she was less comfortable with the 4:15/km pace and pushed on for another km like this. It must have looked impressive as we got some real cheers as we ran through the crowds. Steven yelled that I’d made up a minute in the first 2km’ …my pursuer, Amanda, was no longer in sight as I pushed up the hill out of town and I was working out that even slowing to my target 4:30-40 pace I’d catch the lead by half way. I managed to hold this for the first 13km…out to the turnaround at 5 mile bay and start of the main hill – a km long drag past the airport. This uphill lap was 5:20 (compared to 5min on the way over the first time) and I found myself unable to run freely over the top to make up the deficit. From this point on my lap splits dropped massively to 5:10’s and it was hurting. Though I thought I’d be able to live with the pain in my legs, I just did not have anything within to push harder. I ate some gel, which helped keep me moving, but still stuck on a painful plod. I’d blown – and not even 1/3 of the way. That run was the toughest ever – it was obvious that I was a long way from catching the 2 girls ahead of me and would be lucky to achieve a 3:30 run, which was mentally very had to deal with. There seemed little point in putting in any effort after that, and the temptation to walk through aid stations and eat the cookies and chocolate bars was huge. Seeing lots of friends out on the course, in varying conditions themselves, but all cheerful, kept me going; I’d be ashamed of myself for giving up on it so easily. So, I’d stuffed up. Yeah. But I came into this race, as always, prepared for that. I had no excuses; the conditions had been perfect (ok, could have been a bit more sunshine!) No technical problems other than the irritating Powertap/cycle computer and I’d certainly done the training for the distance. I’d simply executed badly - so ‘suck it up’.

Splits dropped to about 5:20’s on the second lap – until I caught sight of Amanda again at the far turnaround. Not very far behind. I reckoned that I was in 3rd place still and he though to losing that was sufficient motivation to dig in and I managed to claw back 10 seconds or so a lap for the last leg. Oh my god it felt like my last legs. During the final 3km I wondered if I was about to collapse – never having done so before I just didn’t know how it’d feel just before crumpling…and I was having trouble staying in a straight line, or even on the pavement! This is usually my favourite part of the race, where I’d pick up the pace and soak in the feeling, sprinting to the chute, but none of that today. I did manage a final dash down to the line, just in case there was anyone close, but I was really just pleased for it to be over, chalked up as experience, a lesson learned and move on.

And, actually, despite my disasterous run i did manage the 7th fastest female marathon of the day :o)

splits were:
swim 1:03.00
T1 0:4.49
bike 5:31.36
T2 0:1.44
run 3:31.08

oh balls....

so THAT's what it's like to die on the run! a few issues with the powertap ( i.e it stopped working!) and the cycle computer ( i.e it stopped working) meant that possibly went too hard on the bike....then i hit the first 13km of run at 4:15-4:30 min/km pace. After the hill up the the airport, that was it for me. 5-6min/km and a lot of discomfort from than on. Lucky i lost no more places and managed a 3rd in age group, and still managed smiles for all the great support out there on the couree, but pretty dissapointing performance.

ah well, it's done now....and the beers taste just as good :o)

the calm before....

its a very unique feeling on the day before Ironman; an addictive mixture of terror and excitement. Simultaniously desperately not wanting to have to go through with it , and desperate for the start time to arrive. Handing over gear bags and feeling utterly helpless; nothing now can be done to improve your preparations - that part is already decided. Combined with the weight of total responsiblity for your performance the following day. Like a magical power that you're waiting to use for the first time. What will it do? Will you be able to control it?

When ever i think back over previous races, recalling the highlights for motivation on weary grey day, or try to explain to other why it is that i love this sport it will tend to be a moment from the race when i felt good, the pride of seeing my family and club mates out there supporting or the feeling of satisfied relaxation, and celebrations after the event that come to mind. These are all wonderful aspects of the sport, and far more tangeable than the mixed up rush that I'm experiencing today. But I'm wondering if, really, this is what it is all about. there is no other way i know to achieve this feeling - you just cant fake it and there is no other way to get here - you HAVE to have invested the work into training, or there'd be nothing at stake. You HAVE to believe that as long as you get it right on the day, your WILL achieve your goal - otherwise the prize is meaningless. It amused Mike, one of the Epic Campers (who is also racing tomorrow), when i quite matter-of-fact told him that i should expect to win my age group here. Sounds rather arrogant, i admit - but taking into account the huge advantage that i have had over most age group women with 3 months training full time in the sun, on top of a track record of wins at 3/5 of all races and 100% podium finishes - i'd be embarrassed not to. especially now its been stated out in the open!!

That's still not to say that I'm 100% confident of pulling it off. Its early in the year and there have been no B races to test my speed or fitness. My swimming seems to have gotten slower and slower and all my cycling has been with guys and girls so much stronger than me there has been no real way to measure strength there...and i've hardly been doing any running at all since arrival in Christchurch. What's more, i know of at least one very serious challenger in my age group; Jenny and i have trained and talked training together a bit over the last year. She is one awesome athlete who, no matter how limited her training has been by her work, injury or other commitments, always manages to raise it in a race. It's the first time we've raced against each other (the first of 3 occasions this year!) and i have to admit that i'll be most focused on chasing her down!!

Concerning race stratergy, Scott has given some interesting advice. Rather than switching to Steven's flashy Xentis quad spoke race wheels (since the poor guy has no use for them he has been very generously loaning parts of his bike and race kit out to other triathletes in need), Scott recommended keeping my very normal wheels and with the powertap set-up. His advice was that this race could be a great learning experience; the data will be useful for future training, and i should use it during the race to cap my efforts on the bike. So, he says ride patiently in order to digest my fuel and pull off a 'great run - not just a good run, but a great run'.

This gives an exciting new perspective to my race. Having never ridden patiently whatsoever and had good runs, I'm now excited to see the outcome if i get of the bike and set off up the road at the pace required for a 'great run'. The obvious risk is blowing up - but the idea of a 3:15 or faster, on this course is so appealing that it has to be worth a try. At the end of the day (with Kona already bagged) apart from letting Mike down by not living up to my bold race predictions ;o) the learning may even be better than winning - and the greater risk makes it even more fun.

solo

I am looking down the very, very long line of orange buoys that mark the Ironman New Zealand swim course on Lake Taupo (you can’t quite see them in this picture but they are orange, spherical and numerous…you can imagine that). Jenny Richard and I swam on a mirror –smooth lake this morning, perfectly clear freshwater and a nice temperature. Feeling pretty tired after a Scott’s ‘solid’ schedule this week (30+ hours is rather more than I’d have set for myself 2 weeks prior to a race but we have included some good quality pace sessions, swimming each day and the gym work) and a very eventful 48 hours (more on that in a while) I swam like a brick. A disorientated brick, at that. Turns out that keeping course in an anticlockwise swim direction is particularly challenging with my natural tendency to veer left as I swim, and overcompensation resulted in a 90 degree direction change, and complete disorientation on a couple of occasions! It’s a good thing I have nearly a week to get it sussed out!!

We arrived last night in pouring rain after a very long and ‘interesting’ day. Make that 48 hours - which is roughly the elapsed time between my returning from a run in the Port Hills and finding a distraught Steven with the news that he couldn’t do the race…needed surgery on his foot which could not wait until our return to the UK, may not make our scheduled flight to Taupo or even be safe to fly back to the UK, would be ‘out of action’ for months…. to touching down in a small aircraft with 1 wobbly cripple, 2 large bags, 2 bikes in boxes and a very large sigh of relief. Full Steven’s injury are detailed on his own blog at www.stevenlod.me.uk - in short, he snapped a tendon in his foot, which seemed fairly minor initially but expert intervention pointed out that you just cant leave a loose tendon end hanging around inside there and it had to be reattached before it strayed too far away from it’s designated point of attachment. The health service unbelievable here – within hours of that appointment we had the news that one of the country’s best orthopedic surgeons would be able to operate the following day. There was a chance that we’d make our flight on Saturday – provided that there were no delays or complications. So, poor Steven spends the following day at the hospital, and I spend it between the hospital ward in search of information, packing our bags, looking for alternate flights, and squeezing in a bike session. We do not know whether we will make our flight until the lat minute. Then it’s a whistle stop race through town, via the hospital to collect him, his BIG plaster foot, undersized crutches, unfilled prescription for medication that we’d have to get in Taupo on the way to the plane. The foot was so fresh out of surgery that it was incredibly sore and rendered him pretty helpless and of course tired from the stressful procedure. It was a shock to both of us how utterly dependant it made him – the very sudden transition from strong and fighting fit, mentally prepared to nail this race to being virtually immobile hits pretty hard.

But, we are here at last – have procured the drugs we need and I am currently on the trail of a wheelchair loan so that he can get out and about. The weather is improving and I have been able to get out and swim and ride on the course with friends from the UK, Jenny and Richard. I am feeling drained, but must remain confident that it’s just a matter of resting, de-stressing and coming to terms with the situation and disappointment that I wont be sharing this race experience with Steven. But, as he says – if you gotta be out of action, there are worse places to be - its a beautiful location, nice hotel with SKy TV ;o) - and I will have 1 more supporter out there on the day.