"Have you seen the forecast? They're forecasting a six foot swell tomorrow..." The Irish fellow to my left is clearly desperate to chat to a friendly face, and I'm sure he's a lovely chap but I find myself wishing that he would (a) shut up and (b) bugger off!!! It's the Ironman pre-race briefing on Saturday 8th September. The fellow on my left is a fellow Ironman first timer. On my right sits Dawks, as nervous and excited as I am, and also, I am sure, wishing our newfound friend would shut up! We have no desire to hear how bad the sea may possibly be tomorrow... we have no way of altering what is in the lap of the gods... Tenby will throw at us whatever it chooses to on the day! After an hour of being given the lowdown on the must-dos and no-nos of Ironman racing (which basically comes down to: no littering, no drafting, no nudity and no outside assistance) we are released back onto the streets of Tenby to fret our way through the rest of the day. With our bikes racked and our transition bags hung up on our hooks, the interminable wait for race start begins.. Race day begins ridiculously early with a 4.30am breakfast, lube up, and kit up. It's then time to drive the short distance from our rented bungalow into Tenby and pitch up at the transition zone, ready for a walk to the start area and line up. The town is alive with nervous energy. Who could believe a little seaside town could be so alive at 6am on a Sunday morning?!! There are nervous athletes and doting friends and family everywhere! There isn't much chatter between Dawks and I... just a companiable but nervy silence. With Dawks being a quicker swimmer than me, her starting position for the walk down onto the beach is somewhat ahead of mine, as we self-seed according to swim speed. With 15 mins to go, we say our good wishes and separate with hopes of seeing one another much later in the day. We are asked to close ranks, and then start to file down the sloping zig zags towards the beach. We each of us have to remove our shoes and deposit a pink plastic bag on our numbered hook on our way to the beach. The bag contains our shoes for the run from the beach back to transition, together with any food or drink we may want immediately after the swim, and will contain our wetsuits once back in transition. We have been drilled at race briefing that we MUST NOT leave this pink bag on the hook after the swim as that would constitute littering and result in immediate disqualification! Pink Bag Paranoia has become a thing amongst the assembled athletes, with everyone panicking about losing their bag or not finding it on their hook afterwards! Once I am just over half way down the ramps, with my bag securely on its peg, the line stops... the front athletes have hit the starting line. Standing on those zig zags an earie semi-silence descends before the Welsh National Anthem and AC/DC's Thunderstruck each send tingles up the spine of every single assembled athlete. 2500 neoprene-clad individuals are suddenly fuelled by a new spike of adrenaline as they set off first the elite male field and then the elite females... and then it is the turn of the rest of us mere mortals! It is over 10 minutes after the first mortal athlete has crossed the start-line when I am making my way down the sand into the waiting surf... it's only gentle white breakers but it hints that the sea isn't entirely flat out there! I just want the swim done and out of the way. It is by far my weakest discipline despite hours and hours spent in the pool in the last 18 months, and the sea has always scared me with its imposing depth and unpredictable currents. I wade in until I am waist height and just beyond the break line, take a breath, and launch myself into the water. I'm relieved to find that my goggles are water tight and comfortable. I have found that they are about 85 per cent of the time... the other 15 per cent, I struggle to get them water tight without feeling that my eyeballs are being sucked out!! In the last 18 months I have tried about a dozen different (some very expensive) pairs, but have always come back to the cheap ten pound pair I am wearing today. With stories of athletes getting their goggles knocked off in the scrum that the Ironman swim can turn into, I also have an identical pair tucked down the front of my wetsuit "Just in case"!! The sea is alive with other swimmers. Ahead of me streak the fast fish, already making great gains on those of us further down the field. Amongst them somewhere is Dawks. It looks mayhem and I hope that she is okay. Out past the first buoy - the only one that we turn left at - the field has opened up a bit and I find that I am not jostled too badly. The sea is a bit more lumpy than I would like, rising and falling into peaks and troughs about 4 foot deep. I hope it doesn't make me feel seasick. I try to hold a left-hand line as I had been told that it would help me avoid the worst of the current. Others are doing likewise and we often cross one another's path. Sighting forwards I see the large turnbuoy appear and disappear in the swell. I pass a support kayak on my right and calculate that I am about half way to the first big buoy. Having swum an almost identical course for Long Course Weekend, I know that this section of the course feels by far the longest. I will myself along to the turn-buoy all the time congratulating myself that I am actually, finally, doing this - I am competing in an Ironman and getting through the swim. As we approach the buoy, the entire field condenses and it is a melee of swimmers. We are being urged by the support boats to keep wide as the swell is moving the buoy and the swimmers around a lot. I am prepared for this and revert to a few strokes of breaststroke. It keeps my head up so I can see what's going on, and deters other swimmers from getting too close to me. I get round the buoy and breathe a sigh of relief... in my head that's the hard bit done for the first lap (It's a 2 lap course!). I settle back into my freestyle rhythm and try to breath to the right only. I'm not so good at breathing on that side, I favour my left but my reasons are twofold - firstly, the waves are coming from the left and so breathing that way leaves me susceptible to mouthfuls of brine, and secondly it enables me to see the spectacular view that is Tenby at sunrise. It really is something special and I urge myself to enjoy it despite the fact that I am swimming in a lumpy sea with 2500 other athletes and have a day of endurance and uncertainty ahead of me. Savour the moment LuLu... these are treasured times and it's an honour to be here doing it! Thud! My foot kicks something firm yet yielding. I guess it's a jellyfish. Tenby has plenty of them. They are mainly gentle giants - huge 10, 20, 30 kg lumps of pink jelly with a sting that's milder than a stinging nettle. I've become accustomed to them so it doesn't bother me. I swim on. The smell of diesel lies across the water as I approach the RNLI lifeboat that sits in the middle of the bay. I'm praying it doesn't trigger the nausea that threatens thanks to the swell... I'm feeling jubilant as I hit the turn-buoy by the lifeboat station on the other side of the bay... just the third leg of the triangle to complete, going with the waves, before briefly touching solid ground and repeating it all again to complete the swim... It's easier to see the beach today than it was for Long Course Weekend, when the sun was setting over the town and blinding us. It doesn't feel long before I'm passing Goskar rock and touching my feet onto the sand... As I stagger onto the beach, I glance at my watch and find I have swum my fastest ever 1900m. I'm thrilled but quell my excitement as I run across the beach and back into the water - I've got it all to do again! Lap 2 the swell is a little more forceful and the turn at the top of the bay is hard going. 100m or so beyond the buoy, I think to myself that it had been around here that I had kicked the jellyfish on the last lap. No sooner than that thought escaped, I have swum into a small group of them!! My hands touch one after the other and I see as I swim through that these are small tea-plate size ones, in a gentle shade of baby pink! It's not the most pleasant experience but I find myself quietly pleased with my own nonchalance! The rest of the swim soon disappears into a haze as I keep my head down and push on... more diesel fumes as I cross the middle of the bay... the turn at the lifeboat station... and I am beachward bound for the last time! Hitting my watch as I cross the timing mats coming onto the beach I am thrilled to have swum 4 minutes faster than I had done in a calm sea for Long Course Weekend. It's a good start for a long day... Across the beach, up the ramps, collect pink bag, put on shoes, strip wetsuit to waist... and run the kilometer through town whilst consuming an energy gel! I get a shout out from Ian and Ellie on my way. I grin... and get on with the task in hand! Into transition, grab changing bag off hook, into changing zone, strip wetsuit and thin tri-shorts in favour of my padded bike shorts, bag back on peg, helmet, gloves and protective glasses on and grab the bike... clatter to the mount line in my cleats... step over the bike... and I'm away. I have 112 hilly miles to chase down Dawks whilst keeping within the cutoff for the bike leg (a total time of 10.5 hrs from the start of my swim). Based on my swim and transition time I have about 8.5hrs at my disposal. Game on!! There is a wind blowing from the west. Great! The first part of the course is almost directly into it! It's hard going on the first lap, and more so on the second lap. There has been overnight rain and the course, although drying, is wet to begin with. I am horrified by the amount of accidents I come across, including a few where ambulances are in attendance. Having passed the first ambulance, I panic as I didn't look to see if I could see the bike or rider. Please don't let it be my accident-prone buddy. I spend the rest of the bike leg hoping her ride is incident free, and am mighty relieved when I see her mum just past the half way mark - if she's out cheering me on, Dawks must be fine! More friends and family calling me on through Tenby - it's so nice to hear familiar voices. The bike leg seems to take forever. The support out on the course is fantastic - you really do feel like a hero for the day - but it doesn't quite provide enough distraction for me, and I am bored bored bored of being on that bike! Into the last 10km... I am counting them down by the minute. It is where all the hard work really comes, with the second ascents of Wisemans Bridge and Whitehill climb. I stay in the saddle and grind out these hills - something I could never have done 12 months ago! I quietly congratulate myself and grind on towards Tenby. I had been expecting to catch Dawks up with a couple of miles to go, but my guess is that she had more than 5 mins lead on me getting into the water this morning and will have swum a good 15 minutes or so quicker, so I have 20 minutes to make up. I'm finally heading up onto the main road to come down into Tenby. Whilst glancing at my watch to see how much time I have before the cut off (I have enough time in hand...), I realise that I really don't want to pass Dawks at this stage as she would be cutting her own cut off fine! At last I am approaching the dismount line. I have ridden 112 miles without getting off once! I climb off with my legs a little wobbly, clatter across to rack my bike, and hit the portaloo before heading to get changed. The portaloo is oddly clean and fresh! I wasn't expecting that, and it's a relief to empty my bladder! Right... let's go chase down Dawks! I grab my run kit bag off the hook and dive into the changing area to be confronted by the sight of Dawks sitting on the floor putting her trainers on! We are both so relieved to see one another!! In the interests of getting out on the run quickly, I'm working on autopilot and forget to switch my shorts to my thin running ones (I have worn one pair of shorts throughout the day for my shorter races). I realise as we are replacing our kit on the pegs. Not to worry, I'll run in my bike shorts! There's a first time for everything!! Let's go and bring this Ironman home!! Dawks and I had discussed this day ad nauseum in the run up to the event, and always believed that we would end up meeting either late in the bike leg or early in the run. I had always vowed that if that happened I would pace Dawks through to the finish so that we could finish together what we had started together 16 months previously. We could not have timed the meet-up better! We gently jog out into the run course to cheers from friends, family and strangers alike. We have our Team TiTs T-shirts on, and it is not long before the crowd start to get behind us. Initially it is slow progress as Dawks struggles to find her legs after so long on the bike, but I remind her that there is no hurry - we have just over 6.5 hours to complete the marathon within the 17 hour final cut-off. If needs be, we can fast-walk the majority of it and still make it! The course is 4 laps and very hilly. We settle into a rhythm of fast-walking the uphills and jogging the flats and downhills. The aid stations are abundant and are stocked with sweets, crisps and plenty to drink. It is late in the day on a very long day, so we opt for Red Bull and Coca Cola as our fuel of choice. Occasionally, we grab a morsel of something solid, but the sugar and caffeine in the coke and Red Bull are what keeps us going, and we are craving our next fix ahead of each aid station! There isn't much chatter between us. We are battleworn and weary. It doesn't matter. We have done tough stuff together for the last 18 months and are comfortable to run together in relative silence. The cheers from the crowds, especially when they see our team name, lift our spirits. It is particularly raucous through Tenby town centre where the crowds are outside the town's bars, and they remember us after the first lap. I work the crowd a bit to lift us up and carry us forward. We occasionally exchange weary smiles, acknowledging that (a) we are actually getting this Ironman done; (b) we both made it to the run leg; and (c) barring major incident, we have now got it in the bag, we just need to bring it home. It's a weird feeling. We could be very emotional but we are so very tired and emotionally drained from the day, and still have work to do before we finish. We hold it together and push on. Jog, walk, jog, drink, repeat... until finally we are each wearing 4 coloured bands on our wrists - a sign that we turn for the finish on our next loop through town. We jog down into town. There is a loop that takes us along the top of the beach. It is dark and the town's light are shining beautifully across the water. Despite the desire to get the run finished, I urge Dawks to slow a little and take it in. It's a pretty special sight. Then it's back through town, and finally we are approaching the turn-off onto the red carpet. We have already agreed to separate just before the finish in order to get our own individual finisher pictures and call out, and Dawks urges me ahead of her with a quarter of a mile to go. It feels odd to leave her at this point, but I jog off ahead and soon hit that hallowed red pile... the crowds are still there, despite the late hour, and I run towards the MC who checks the name on my race number and gives me the shout out: "Luan, You Are An Ironman" It doesn't feel real. I collect my medal and have my photo taken, and wait for Dawks to cross the line too. She's not far behind and looks even more shell-shocked than I feel as she crosses the line to her own shout out. Ian and Ellie are clamouring for us to get round the barriers to see them, but we want to collect our finishers shirts and grab something to eat and drink from the competitor's marquee first. We agree to meet them shortly on the other side of the marquee.
Once into the warmth of the marquee, with my adrenaline levels dropping, my blood sugar plummets. It scares Dawks as I go white and very shaky, but I am used to it happening and tell her I will be fine once I've had a gel. I slurp one alongside my cup of tea and quickly come back to life. Shame the same couldn't be said for Dawks' legs! She quickly starts to seize up, and is walking like the tin man by the time we leave the marquee to collect the bikes and bags and meet up with our families. We are still in shock that we have done it as we say goodbye to first Dawks' mum and friend Gill, and later Ian and Ellie... It's now two months later at the time of writing this post and I'm still not sure that it has sunk in... We are Ironmen!!
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Well dear friends, what can I say? My sincerest apologies that it has been so long since I last sat and put fingers to keyboard!! Needless to say it has been a bit busy!!
What with...? Well... April saw Team Tits complete our first ever Sportive Bike ride - the 76 mile Mad March Hare - postponed from March due to the ice and snow. We had been crazy nervous about this event - our furthest ride by a long long way, and with some mean climbs, but we managed it fine! We also took part in our first triathlon (a sprint distance) at the end of the month, which was a great introduction to the triple disciplines that would dominate the rest of our season. May saw us taking part in Rat Race Dirty Weekend - a 20+ mile, 200+ obstacle race, and then our first century bike ride (actually 107 miles) - the Tour of Pembrokeshire - with an epic 10, 221 feet of ascent! Again we had been nervous about this ride, but it was a glorious day, and the aid stations were well stocked with great foods and drink, so it ended up being an amazing day in the saddle. We also jetted off to Mallorca for a combined family holiday and warm weather training week. We got in 6 runs, 3 days in the saddle, included a couple of 50 plus milers, and a few sea swims! June saw us take on our first half-Iron distance triathlon - the Lakesman Half - a 1.2 mile lake swim in Derwentwater, followed by 56 miles on the bike and a half marathon. We loved it!!! It was the first time we had properly competed under the "Team Tits" name and the Lakeland crowd really got behind us!! We had so much fun!! Fast forward to July and we took on the Long Course Weekend. This was truly our Ironman Dress Rehearsal - the same swim and bike course as Ironman Wales, although a different run course, but done across Friday evening (swim), Saturday (bike) and Sunday (run). We were so lucky for the weather. Friday night, the sea was blissfully calm and warm and the sun was setting as we swam. It made sighting the beach a little tricky but it was a gorgeous swim and I must confess that, despite my dislike of swimming, I actually almost enjoyed it!! What I didn't enjoy however, was the chafing to my neck which started about 600 metres into the swim and got progressively worse over the distance. By the end, the whole of the back of my neck was red raw and weeping, a condition it remained in for the rest of the weekend! Saturday's bike ride was, to be honest, attritional! We knew it was going to be tough - it's a long, tough old course - but we probably weren't fully prepared for the mental fatigue of pushing through for so many lonely miles. It was, however, very good preparation for the real event in a couple of months. The marathon was hot... really hot... and rather hilly! To qualify as a finisher for the marathon and also for our fourth (Long Course Weekend) medal, we had to complete the distance within 6 hours. Normally, this wouldn't seem too much of a challenging cut-off, but with the previous 2 days in the bag, with a very hilly course, and with a hot sun blaring down on us, it became potentially more of a challenge!! We got chatting to a couple of people just before the start of the marathon who recognised us (or more specifically, our Team Tits T-shirts) from the Lakesman!!! We were becoming nationally (internationally? we were in Wales...?) known!!! Our aim was about a 5:45 finish, and we finally made it home in 5:34 which we were actually very pleased with! Mission accomplished for the weekend... We were long course athletes!! August saw us taking some down time from competing whilst getting some solid training and holiday family time in - a week on the gorgeous Gower coast and a week up in Anglesey, all accompanied by our trusty bikes and running shoes!! And then it was into September... and Ironman Wales on the 9th!! My account of that day will follow in the next couple of days ... |
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