 |
| Isoman Swim Course on the eve of the event |
Having the
Ironman under my belt was of no use to me here. This was a mystery. I had no
idea how this distance of swim would effect me. How it would effect me on the
bike. What effort level was required on the bike. Zone 2 on ironman bike, Zone
3 on half ironman bike - what to you do on a half ironman bike that leads into
an ironman run? No clue. Illness, injury and possibly too many events in the
lead up had meant I had not really got into regular long distance running
training this year, and I had not seen the benefits in my run walk strategy in
training that I had been hoping for. I was not confident about that at all.
The
strategy was simple. I was not going to simply participate and finish. I wanted
to give it a go.I felt based on the splits from the event last year, that I
could come out in the top 5 to10 or so in the swim, and I felt good on the bike
after some focused training this year. So I decided that whatever it was, I was
going to try and hold my swim position on the bike, and whatever will be will
be on the run. I didn't know how the strong runners and cyclists would fare in
the event overall, so I thought I had a chance of a top 5. It was, by
comparison to the Ironman and the Long Course Weekend, a pretty 'flat' run
course, so I had to think I could manage it!
1 minute to
the start now, and I wasn't quite psyched up yet. I almost felt I didn't need
to be. I had read 1 or two blog posts about this event from last year , and had
got the impression that due to the massive distance of the swim , it actually
resulted in a pretty relaxed start, and people would find their own space
rather quickly.
10 seconds
to go. The low keyness of the whole thing was disconcerting. Were we really
about to.... [gun goes off]? .... feck it, yes we were!!
Iso was
misinformed about the swim start.
My god, it
was an all out brawl. It must have been the most aggressive swim start I had
ever been in! I thought it would just settle after about 20 meters, but it soon
became clear this was an all out race to the 1st buoy. I was used to the odd
punch and kick, but this was unrelenting. Got properly smacked in the head
quite a few times, had hands grab my feet, had swimming arms land on and
roughly scrape down my back. Constantly. Even had the sensation of someone just
swimming over me for the first time
ever. Unpleasant. My plan had be to swim this at a sustainable long and strong,
technically deliberate swimdown pace, but I had to give something to try and
find my space, which was not forthcoming. It also felt like dozens of people
were passing me. Did they not know what distance this was?!
I was
battered and bruised by the 1st buoy, and things did not improve to the 2nd
buoy. Smack-Punch-Kick-Scrape. 3rd buoy no different either. It wasn't until
the long stretch to the 4th buoy that I found some kind of space. And now half
way into the 1st lap, I felt something I did not want to feel - fatigue. I did
not feel good. I could not relax into my stroke. My shoulders felt tired. I
couldn't decide whether it was the punishing start or had I simply been
battered that much, but this was not promising. In fact, it was quite
demoralising. I persisted, and tried to find my rhythm as I fell into line
around the 4th 5th and 6th buoys. The 7th buoy was the last one before going
through the timing gate, but the journey to it was right into the low morning
sun. It was impossible to see, it was blinding. It took a lot of sighting, and
I knew my back would feel this later. There was a pontoon at the lap timing
gate where you could leave your own bottle and gels for the swim. I figured I
would fuel at the end of laps 2, 4 and 6 so just swam straight through on this
one.
 |
| Finally getting some space for myself |
I'm not
going to lie, lap 2, I just felt down! Couldn't find rhythm, arms felt wrecked,
felt well off the pace, over 85% left of the swim, all I did was get around the
course, looking forward to energy gel at the end of the lap!
Lap 3 and
energy gel did NOT sit well. Jaysus!! Really did not feel comfortable at all. I
did manage to latch onto some kind of pace buddy though who dragged me around
the next few buoys... Then halfway around the lap, something happened. I let
out a big burp! It was a good one too, I saw one of the support marshalls
 |
| Sighting into the sun. Lovely |
First of
all I'm sure I sang 'Isoman' in my mind to the theme tune of the A team for
pretty much a whole lap. Also somewhere in the next few laps (possible the A
Team lap) I latched onto someone who passed me swimming quite aggressively, and
held onto him for a whole lap, passing a ton of people on the way. He slowly
pulled away from me at the end of that lap and then I made a stark realisation....
what flippin lap was I on?! Did I have an energy gel a the end of lap 5 and
just pass through the gate after lap 6? Had I passed through and this was lap
6? Was this lap 7?! Shit... Had I forgotten I had taken my 3rd gel?! Aah!!...
Of course I could've just checked my gps watch and the distance would've told
me, but I didn't want to be demoralised by
what I saw. I decided I would I would finish the next lap and check,
while having my energy gel. One thing I was certain of was I was not on my last
lap yet, so I could be on two laps left at worst when I checked with a fresh energy gel in the
tank.
This lap
was terribly uncertain and my body was starting to creak. My neck was becoming
raw from the wetsuit rub and i could feel it burning. My back was terribly
strained from all the sighting. There must have been a slight imbalance in my
stroke too, like my left arm stretching too far forward, because I could feel a
compensating strain in my right shin. I tried to rotate my feet and loosen it,
but easier said than done when you are trying to swim! I was still passing
people though, which kept the spirits
up. It was quite hard to tell if I was lapping people or passing people who
started too hard, they seemed like reasonably decent swimmers I was passing!
 |
| More Sighting. Back was going to feel this later!! |
I came to
end of the lap, which was at least number 6, decided to have my last energy
gel. Then I decided to check my watch a lap early – 9.6km. One lap left!! YES!!
Just as I made this realisation, I heard a gun go off and saw a bunch of white
hatted swimmers starting at the next buoy, 30m away – the half distance guys
had just started. I knew they were starting at 9:30am, which meant one thing –
I had a 30 minutes to break the 3 hour mark. Game on!
I swam
quickly out to the first buoy, where a mass of white hats were passing. I
skimmed along the outside of the group, away from the chaos, but very much
feeling the draft benefit of this mass of swimmers. All of a sudden my arms
felt great, like a surge of adrenaline had materialised to get me through this
last lap. I passed white hat after white hat, dozens of them. I couldn’t believe
after 7 laps I was passing all these fresh swimmers – the whole lap was
basically an epic overtaking manouvre!
I got
through the timing gate for the last time, now feeling like a rockstar. This
was very shortlived as I climbed out of the slip and realising had zero blood in my legs, zero blood in my
head and crucially zero coordination! I stumbled sideways off the slip almost
into the boat shed, edgy, turning my head to all sights and sounds,
disorientated and on edge. Eventually I managed to kurb my stumbling into some
kind of forward motion, which may or may not have been percieved by the
spectators as running, towards transition!
People were
clapping. I must be doing okay, I thought.
Top 10 maybe? The stewards at transition clapped me in. Then one of the
stewards shouted out something that I couldn’t believe. “First swimmer in!”
WHAT??!!
I took my
time in transition, knowing we had 7 minutes grace from swim to bike transition
that was not included in the o\a time, trying to get my wits about me, trying
to digest what I just heard. Was I really race leader? As if to confirm this, I
saw a guy in transition, fully kitted in cycle gear, probably waiting for a
relay team mate, who gave me a very corny nod and thumbs up. It was like I had
left reality at the start line and exited the water into some cheesy american
daytime movie. It was surreal.
 |
| Wandering out into unchartered territory of 'race leader' |
I bumbled
my way out of transition with my bike like a race leader really shouldn’t and
headed out on the bike. 2 or 3 miles on the duel carriage way and then out into
winding country lanes. I struggled to get my heart rate down – the excitement
had definitely gotten to me. I was aiming for mid zone 3 – I was currently high
zone 4! Once I got off the dual carriageway, things calmed down a bit. I’d read
on a few blog posts about the event from last year that a people got lost on
the bike course, so I had the course mapped out on the garmin, which was
prompting me in advance for all my turns. By all accounts, all directional
event signs seemed to be clearly in place, but this gps nevertheless proved
quite useful, on a bendy twisty course I hadn’t reccied, and without any
cyclists to follow – oh yeah, did I mention I was race leader? Nuts. It didn’t
feel like I was in a race, or an event, just going for a tempo cycle in the
countryside in absolute bewilderment.
Iso lonely.
I was well
into 1/3 of the distance, and still no sign of anyone. The roads were quite
draggy and lumpy (without ever being as unrelenting as IMW, but still a pain)
and it seemed there was wind from all directions excpet behind me. What’s more,
I couldn’t fully get into a comfortable position on the bike. My postural
muscles in my back were completely shot from all the sighting in the swim, so
my shoulders were left with all the support work. They were no good either
though after all the swimming, so I was just slumped on the bike, with all my
weight on my elbows and forearms on the aerobars – everything ached. I could
only stay in the aero position (which I really needed in this crumby wind) for
a couple of minutes at a time, but I didn’t feel comfortable on the handlebars
either. Some sidewinds made for some interesting moments on some downhills too,
sending me into one or two major wobbles while going at speed – this made it
quite hard for me to commit to getting back the speed I lost on some of the
uphills, which was quite frustrating.
Iso not
feeling the bike right now.
Just after
halfway, and the guys at the feedstation confirmed I was the first to arrive
there. This was the one thing that kept me in pretty good spirits. I still
couldn’t believe it, but knew it would only be a matter of time before someone
caught me. This impending eventuality didn’t have me rush at the feedstation
though – I took my time, and made sure I got what I needed. It wasn’t long after before someone finally
passed me. I tried to keep him in sight as long as possible. He had triple
digits on his racenumber though which meant he was most likely a member of a
relay team. I was still expecting a flood of bikes to pass me though, but it
never happened. I was ¾ of the way around the course before I started passing
the stragglers of the half distance course, and only then did I lose the lead,
about 20km from the end. I don’t know was it there something psychological
about finally getting passed, or was it simply down to timing, but it was
around now I realised I had completely overcooked it on the bike. The pedal
stroke was not smooth or quick, my form on the bike was terrible. I just wanted
to be done with this now, but the last 20km were defnitely the longest!
One thing
that made this stretch a bit more miserable was the Redditch
motorists. They did NOT take any prisoners. Pretty much 95% of them didn’t slow
down before passing, regardless of uncoming traffic & overtook in a position
that suggested they didn’t even acknowledge you were on the road. I had quite a
few close calls! It was pretty disgraceful to be honest.
Iso miss
Pembrokeshire.
 |
| Back in from bike, backed wrecked, knee kicking out, a little worse for wear. |
After what
seemed like an age, I finally got back to to transition, in 2nd
place. Getting off the bike, my legs were not nearly as tight as they were
after the bike in IMW, but I knew they were properly cooked. The marathon was
not going to be fun! I was surprised to see the new race leader, Michal, in
transition, across from me. I think he was Polish, and we had a very friendly
conversation about the swim and the bike as we took advantage of the 5 minutes
grace allowed for bike to run transition. He said running was his weakest, but
I didn’t believe him – he looked like a proper athlete and I’m sure he was
being modest. I was actually ready before him, and didn’t see the point of
hanging around for the sake of it, so I ended up leaving transition in 1st
again. I knew this would be shortlived!
My plan was
to walk for a minute after each of the
feedstations, to keep the legs flushed out and in relatively good condition. I
was hoping a very light and quick stride would get me through otherwise. Sure
enough, Michal passed on on my first interval – it took some discipline to walk
out the minute, but figured I had to stick to my plan. I kept him in sight for
a few km and I felt my pace was good. In fact, my legs actually felt alright
and I starting thing about the possibilies…. If I could hold a 4 hr 30 minute
marathon, I might be able to hold on for a podium place! If felt like a
realistic prospect….
…. at the
time.
The course
was 4 laps of a park circuit. I broke the lap in turn into 4 parts –
Part 1. the
intial stretch from the transition zone along the west side of the lake we had
swam around earlier in the morning that lead to an underpass.
Part
2. A loop out into a meadowy part of the
park which went out from and back to the underpass (which had a feedstation
that you passed on the way out and way back)
Part 3.
Another eastward loop that seemed to skim the edge of some residential estates
before coming back into the park again
Part 4. The
final stretch in ‘familiar territory’ along the rest of the lake and back to
transition area or finish line.
Part 1 felt
good. I had Michal in sight, and was holding a pace I had tried to train for.
The feedstation in the underpass was hilarious. They had a hifi on full blast
playing motivational rocky-esque music with a little girl, who couldn’t have
been older than 8, on a microphone welcoming everyone and listing off
everything the feedstation had to offer in a cheesy infomercial style – it was
brilliant, and you couldn’t pass through this feedstation and leave without a
smile on your face.
 |
| Optimistic start to the run! |
A short
distance into Part 2 and I did not feel good at all. My stomach felt bloated
and unsettled and I really REALLY had to go to the loo. I asked any Marshalls
Part 3 went
on and on! Samey laneways with residences back onto it on the left, every
corner felt the same, and there was no sense of progress. Part 4 felt familiar,
as I ran past the athletes parking area and then ran the remainder of the lake
(which was much longer than I thought it would be). One lap done, 3 to go.
I expected
the 2nd lap to go better as I felt better. It didn't. I could see my km splits
slowly slipping. I passed Vicki, my sports therapist and one of the
Pembrokeshire locals who was doing the half distance, on part 3 of the lap. It
was nice to have some conversation. Because of how few competitors there was,
the run course was a lonely place - there were spells of 10-15minutes when i
could see no-one ahead of me and no-one behind me. So it was nice not only to
meet someone, but someone I knew! Shortly after I pulled away from her, in part
4 of the course, I could feel my legs start to seize up. I was in trouble now!
In previous experience, my legs generally died a death about 3/4 of the way
through a marathon and I would just have to grit my teeth for the last lap, but
today they were dying a lap early! The bike effort had finally caught up with
me. 'The run will be what it'll be' attitude was easy to make earlier in the
day, but the foolishness of it was becoming clear now! 2 laps done. 2 to go.
Iso not
sure about this.
I
persevered on lap 3. My 'running' was gradually getting slower. My walking breaks
at feed stations were getting longer. My attempts to start back to running were
getting more painful. I met Karen, another Pembrokeshire local doing the half
distance, about halfway around lap 3. I asked her about her partner John, who
was doing the full but I had not seen him yet. Just after I had left her, I
could hear John calling from behind. I didn't stop to let him catch me, as I
knew I would be walking at a feed station soon (and I knew how painful it was
becoming to start running again!). When he caught me at the feedstation he
walked we me and we agreed to pace with each other. He was on lap 2 of the run
and had a bit more energy in him. It was really good to have the company as my
mind was in a dark place now!
He kept
with me right to the end of the lap, and despite me telling him not to let me
hold him up (I clearly was), he stayed with me. The company and conversation
was good and was getting us both around. I had a massive ball of tension
between my shoulder blades and neck, and John, being an osteopath stopped and
helped to release some of it. He even stopped with me at the start of lap 4 as
I HAD to stop and stretch my hamstrings - I couldn't even straighten them.
However, after we passed the underpass feedstation, John started running again
about 15 seconds before me and that was it. I was never going to catch him! I
kept him in sight for as long as I could, but eventually I had to walk again.
 |
| "Walking for me, please" |
My legs
were getting so tight now I had to stretch them out. I had a few more
intermittent spells of running. But the need to walk was taking over now. I
actually felt completely fine walking and the pace was not an awful lot slower
than what my running pace had become so after I passed my loo-stop pub, I
stubbornly walked for at least a km, maybe 2! I didn't even think of how long
it would take to do the remaining 7km or so walking, the thought of running was
just too much to bear. I had a few more little spells of running. The few
supporters that there were scattered around the course were pretty enthusiastic
and kept me going. I must have walked nearly all of part 3 of the lap! As I
started the final stretch, past the athletes car park, I made another attempt
at starting to run. I felt a big twinge, like someone plucking a guitar string
in my calf muscle. Nope, no running for me!
As I
rounded the corner onto the lake, I made another go of it. No way was I going
to be walking over the finish line! I tried a much smaller quicker stride -
like really tiny steps, and it seemed to work for me, and I was starting to
keep pace with people who had just passed me. It was incredibly painful, but I
was able to keep going. I made it all the way around the lake and kept going. I
took the left for the finish line and did, to minimum fanfare.
I Sore Man.
 |
| Not so equal for me, but mission accomplished all the same! |
Someone
gave me a deck chair and I just sat there for about 10 minutes, shellshocked.
My god that run was absolutely horrendous, I was so glad it was over, and so
happy to not be moving. By the time we were called up to get our medals, my
body had completely seized up, and I had to climb the stairs up to the stage
like a decrepit pirate.
I waited
around for John to finish, it was the least I could do after him keeping me
company for nearly a lap - it was great to able to share the achievement with
someone!
In the
weeks that followed, there was a sick feeling in my stomach. I had uploaded my
activities to strava and the GPS was ALL OVER THE PLACE. This had been my fall
back on the swim when I had lost count of laps and was a concern. Furthermore, when I saw the raw results, not only was I
the 2nd fast swimmer in the Full Isoman (I must have passed the lead guy before
the transition area), but the 2nd fastest including the guys who did the swim
only. This did not make sense. Dozens of people went ahead of me in the 1st
lap, and despite finding some rhythm there is no way I caught them all. The
only way alarm bells were not ringing during the race, was I assumed that all
the guys who kicked my ass in the swim were only doing the swim.
When the
final results came out, complete with lap splits, nearly 2 weeks after the
event, my concerns were confirmed. As it was a floating timing gate, it missed
the odd lap for some people, but counted it as a double lap the next time.
However, my times did not add up. I had only done 7 of the 8 laps in the swim!!
My GPS watch had gone haywire in the last few laps and by sheer coincidence it
gave me a distance after lap 6 representative of doing exactly 7 laps. It was a
real kick in the stomach and I was genuinely pretty down about it. However
after telling the organisers, so they could adjust my result accordingly (they
hadn't spotted the anomaly) , and posting my embarrassing error on facebook I
felt better. Afterall, I had still done a 9.8km swim, only 200m shy of an
Olympic Swim Marathon. By my splits, I was still on for a 3 hour 22minute swim
split, which would have still had me in the top ten. I had still worked my ass
off on the bike to hold my 'lead' for the 98km bike. I still had gritted my
teeth through the most painful marathon I had ever done, and came out the other
side.
With my
adjusted swim split, I would've only lost 2 places in the race too, though I
think if I cam out in 10th as opposed to 1st, my bike would have been more
conservative and my run wouldn't have been such a trainwreck, I arguably
could've done a faster time over all! Well, that's what I'm telling myself anyway.
Long story
short, I was still proud of everything I achieved on the day.
Now for the
Post-Mortem.
Is this the
most equal triathlon out there? Probably. If I had my proper funning fitness
that I had in previous seasons, all my splits probably would have been with
within 30 minutes of each other. The full distance is a bit extreme, but the
half distance looks like a great event for comparing your disciplines'
strengths against each other.
Is it the
most complete endurance race? I think not. I am definitely of the opinion that
the Ironman swim is way too short, and the idea of starting with a swim
marathon seems a lot fairer. People would actually have to focus on swim
training for a start! However, I don't think cutting the bike distance is the
answer. My complaint about the IM swim being the same as a training session for
a swimmer would be hypocritical if I said that 60 miles is an endurance cycling
distance! Sure it tends to the concept of spending the same amount of time on
each discipline, but another way to looking at it is the effort on each. The
swim is 1km above an Olympic swim marathon, and the run is a marathon, it just
seems right that the bike would be 100miles. To me the ultimate 'full distance
triathlon' would have a 10km swim, 180km bike and 42km run, and the various
distances - half, olympic and sprint - would be derived from dividing that down.
It will never happen thought, it's simply not marketable to the masses but
there's my two cents on that.
In any
case, that is not a criticism of this race, it advertises itself as the
equaliser triathlon and that's what it is. Even in training I felt like I was
training equally in swimming cycling and running, a massive difference from the
bike heavy training of Ironman.
I'd highly
recommend the event, in any of the distances, and hope I convince some more
Pembrokeshire crazies to go next year.
 |
| Myself, Karen & John celebrating later that evening. |
