It’s 4am on Sunday 25th May.  My alarm has just gone off.  It must be time for the Arundel Lido Triathlon.

Any regular reader of my blog will be more than aware that I do not enjoy getting up early in the morning, and today was no exception.  My normal annoyance of rising from my slumber early was compounded by the fact that I had slept poorly, and also gone to bed rather later than I probably should have.

The night before my lovely wife and I had gone out for a few drinks and dinner with our friend Bushy, and his girlfriend who is not really his girlfriend as they don’t want to admit they are boyfriend and girlfriend though they obviously are but are in denial about it for some reason.  Anyhow, we met them for a late lunch, stayed out in the pub till 10pm, then went for tapas at a local Spanish restaurant!  Eventually I managed to get into bed about midnight with a belly full of food and too much beer, to settle in for a good 4 hour sleep.  It took me almost 2 hours to fall asleep, and when I did I slept awfully as I was aware I had to get up at 4am.

All of this was OK (I told myself) as Bushy was competing the next day too so at least I wouldn’t be suffering alone.  Or at least so I thought, as I received a text from Bushy when I woke up to tell me that he wouldn’t be competing as he “wanted to spend time with Marie”.  Now bearing in mind that she isn’t even his girlfriend, even though she actually is, you would have thought that his loyalty would be with me rather than her.  How wrong can one man be?

So back to the plot.  It’s 4am and I am up, and waking my wife up.  Being the super supportive and lovely wife that she is Cat had agreed to come with me and be support crew.  I gathered up my gear (which I had obviously not prepared the night before as I was out eating dinner), loaded the bike into the car, woke up the dog (who was also coming to support), loaded him and the rest of the gear into the car and off we set.

Not pictured – Dog or Wife

I arrived at Arundel Lido and immediately went to register.  This was super quick, and soon I had the bike out of the car and was heading to the transition area.  Carefully racking my bike and arranging my gear underneath, I was ready to go.

I did expect that I would be nervous for my first ever Tri; however thankfully the only emotion I felt was excitement.  Of course, I also had the feeling that I imagine every single triathlete feels before an event, which is simply that I had not done enough training.  I imagine that everybody feels this way, or at least those that don’t have actually done way too much training (as opposed to the correct amount) but anyway I gave my lovely wife a quick kiss, and then went poolside to start my swim.

The Arundel Lido Triathlon standard distance was an 800m swim, then 40k on the bike and a 10k run.  The swim was in the Lido (though the more astute of you will probably have already worked that out) and consisted of 32 lengths of the pool.  They were running late on the pool start times, and the air was chilly waiting to start but all I could focus on was how much stronger and thinner everybody seemed to look compared to me.  Memo to self, lose weight before you have to put the tri suit on again!


Soon it was my time to start, so I pulled on the orange swimming cap that allowed me to be recognised from the other 3 swimmers in my lane, and off I set.  The swim went well, and before I knew it I was tapped on the head to indicate I had 2 lengths left.  I was very pleased that this service was offered, as I had totally forgotten how many laps I had swam after only counting to about 3.  Perhaps the tiredness was catching up with me.



I lept out of the pool like the athlete that I am, and jogged (yes jogged) to transition.  Every second counts after all!.  Bike helmet and shoes were on in no time and I was off on my ride.  It was my plan to take it easy on the bike as running is by far my weakest event, so I set off at a pace that would mean I should be able to complete the 40k ride in about 90 minutes.  The route immediately took on a 15 minute climb, where I was overtaken by all manner of skinny men on all manner of super aerodynamic TT bikes.  Who cares about all that though, I was competing in a triathlon.  I may be overweight, I may not have done enough training and my gear may well be mainly borrowed / extremely cheap but I was actually taking part in a triathlon, which is something that not a lot of people can say they have done.

  I rode almost entirely on my own for the two laps of the bike course, which suited me perfectly.  I wanted to average around 15mph, which would give me a time of approximately 1hr 30 mins on the bike.  This is far from quick for 40k, but I was desperate to pace myself for the 10k run (which I knew would be very hard for me).  Making sure to take on plenty of fluids during my ride, I eventually pulled into the Lido car park and jumped off my bike, jogging it to the transition area and popping my running shoes on.  

At this point I saw my wife, who gave me a huge smile and a cheer which really lifted my spirits ahead of the run.  It really makes all the difference having a support team at these events.  If you are reading this Doc – thank you so much for coming to support me.

So I had my shoes on, swigged down a final mouthful of water and headed out of transition and into the run stage.  Again I saw my wife, who had made her way to near the transition exit and gave me a high five and a quick shout of encouragement.  I felt good.  Perhaps this run was going to be OK after all.  Or perhaps not!

My back went into spasm only 500m into the run.  And it was hurting me…….a lot.  I had back surgery a few years ago, and occasionally it will play up.  Looks like the swap from 40k ride to 10k run is one of those occasions.  

I ran when I could, and walked when I had to.  My back was agony, and the course was extremely hilly.  Well it was mainly just up-hilly for the first 4k which practically killed me.  There was no chance of me quitting, I had to get to the finish line.  We ran up and up and up, then down a bit, then up a bit, then down a bit, then up a bit.  The run was taking forever.  Every step was painful, and 100’s of faster runners were streaming past me.  I was absolutely convinced that the 10k run stage would be taking me at least 90minutes, perhaps more.  I had never moved so slowly.

Eventually we stopped with the up and down hilly part of the run and it was downhill to the finish.  This was probably about 2k, but felt like 200.  I staggered along, disappointed with myself for my horrific performance in the run, but happy that I was going to finish.  Soon I rounded the corner into the Lido, and across the line.

I looked around for my wife.  We had discussed before the race that as soon as I started the run I would be back in around 60 minutes (my approximate 10k time) and she was nowhere to be seen.  This was not a surprise, as I was convinced I had taken forever in the run.  Then I caught a glimpse of Cat walking over from the carpark direction, and the first thing she said to me was “that was quick”.  Surely not.  Surely I hadn’t run 10k faster than 60 minutes.  I walked for quite a bit of the uphill sections after all.  After quickly working my timings out it appeared that I had actually run10k in just over 60 minutes, and that Cat had gotten her timings a little bit wrong for meeting me at the finish.  I couldn’t believe it!!!!!

My overall time was 2hrs 54 minutes, which was below my 3 hour target.  My other target was not to finish last, and later when I received the finishing results there were 8 people slower than me, meaning I managed that too.  

So all in all a total and complete success.  I am officially a Triathlete.  Only 14 more months of training and then I will be competing in an Ironman.  A slightly bigger challenge, but one I cannot wait for.

TTFN

James

It’s 5.30am on Sunday 13th April, and my alarm has just gone off.  Time for the Wiggle New Forest Spring Sportive.

I had followed what all top quality athletes do to get prepared for this event.  On Friday night I decided to drink my own weight in Jagermeister and Real Ale with fellow Grazing Saddles Triathlon Team  member Bushy, my gorgeous wife Cat and one of my best and oldest friends in the world, Mr Neil Machin.  Now Machin lives back home in Haywards Heath, and I haven’t seen him in a long time so it was only right that we got totally and utterly smashed.  So smashed in fact, that I fell asleep in my favourite curry house, then woke up and argued about the bill (which was a very reasonable £30 for 3 people).  Anyway I was hanging for all of Saturday, ate a Pizza Hut and struggled through a restless sleep to awaken at 5.30am Sunday morning.  Preparation Complete!

So the alarm has gone off and naturally I have prepared nothing.  So I smash and bash around the house, wake up my wife, the baby and the dog and then once I think I have everything I head down the road to meet fellow Grazing Saddles Triathlon Team  member Neil Perry (the Duracell Bunny).  Neil and I grunted at each other, then we got in his van, went round to pick up Bushy and Curry from Bushy’s house, and then set off.  Earlier that morning Mike had messaged to say that he couldn’t attend as he had a rather nasty stomach problem, so we were feeling his loss in the van as we trundled down the M27 towards the New Forest.  

Ladies – yes he is single!

Now in all honest I was feeling absolutely rubbish.  Ate nothing for breakfast (as felt sick and was too damn early), and when we stopped for a coffee I decided to have nothing again.  I was not in a good way.  We arrived at the start in plenty of time, and after registering and eating one of Neil’s girlfriends homemade flapjacks I was feeling a lot better.  Soon we had all of our gear ready and we were at the start line.  

Starting off at around 8.30am, we rode in formation with me leading, overtaking lesser mortals with ease.  It was at that point that I realised that I had set an intial pace of around 23mph, and some cries from the back (Neil) meant that I quickly slowed down to settle in at around 19-20mph.  The course was relatively flat, we were riding well as a group, and it felt superb to be out with my fellow Grazing Saddles Triathlon Team members.

Weaving through the New Forest countryside we were riding extremely well, averaging 17.5 mph and things were looking great.  Then I hit a minor snag, I started getting mega cramp in both of my quads (very close to the knee).  Now this was painful.  I dropped way back from the group.  Was struggling to keep the pedals turning.  A quick energy gel and some water and I felt better.  The lads kindly waited for me, I caught up and we were back together, but all was not well.

The pain in my quads just didn’t go away.  When I free-wheeled it felt as if they were both going to instanly spasm, so I had to just keep pedaling.  We eventually reached the first feed station, and Neil advised my saddle was too low which might be the problem.  I raised it up 5mm and we were off again.  It felt better but still not perfect.  Relatively quickly we reached the cut off point (at around 46 miles) where you have to decide if you want to do the Standard race (62 miles) or the Epic (86 miles).  Now this is quite a difference, and to put no finer point on it I was absolutely done in.  My quads had been agonising for miles now, and I was not sure I had a lot more in the the tank.  

Now Democracy is king in the Grazing Saddles Triathlon Team, so it was put to a vote and the Epic was decided on unanimously.  Admittedly I voted last, and was praying that somebody else would vote for the Standard, but peer pressure got the best of me and when Curry agreed to the Epic as the 3rd voter my fate was sealed.

The next bit of this story is not my finest moment but I must be honest.  For the next 10 miles I was praying for some sort of catastrophic mechanical failure that would cause me to have to stop the race.  I was in absolute agony in both quads, my back was screaming and the thought of another 40 miles on the bike was simply unbearable.  As the miles wore on God did not smile on me, I had no catastrophic mechanical failure, and I knew that I would have to see this thing through to the end.  Quitting was, and is not an option.

So we got to the second feed station, I raised my saddle a bit more, jumped back on and we ploughed onwards, all be it with a bit less banter than the first half of the race but still together as a team.  I was counting down the miles 1 by 1 from 70 miles inwards, and the feeling when we saw the “5k to go – Finish Strong” sign was great.  As we got to the final few hundred metres I felt an overwhelming sense of achievement.  We had done it.  I knew I was not the only one who had battled through considerable pain.  This is the furthest any of us had ever ridden, and we were all suffering, but we had completed 86 miles together as a team, the Grazing Saddles Triathlon Team.

As I write this the lads have already signed up for a 100 mile event on the Isle of Wight, and as soon as I get paid I will be joining them.  Plus we have added another member to our team, and the future of the Grazing Saddles Triathlon Team is looking better than ever.

Just hoping that my quads recover in time.

As I have mentioned on numerous occasions before, I enjoy my cycling.  The speed, the tempo, pushing hard up climbs and the sense of freedom that I feel whilst out on the bike are just a few of the things I like about cycling.  There is however one major part of cycling that I do not enjoy

ARSE PAIN.

After about an hour in the saddle, my bum starts to hurt.  Now I am sure that I’m not alone in this, and that a certain amount of discomfort is to be expected, especially as road bikes have no suspension, run tyres with very high tyre pressure and the roads that I ride on are often far from smooth.  My main problem is that this affects my cycling.  The pain stops me from being able to concentrate on the cycling, and causes me to concentrate on how my enjoyable bike ride has turned into a pain in the bum (quite literally).


I have consulted quite a few people on what I can do to solve this problem, and have received various answers, such as:

• Get some padded shorts (I already have these)
• Eventually you will get used to it (I doubt this somehow)
• Buy a new more comfortable saddle (I have just ordered one from Wiggle)
• Man up! (can’t really argue with that one)

On Sunday I competed in first event of the Portsmouth Duathlon series.  This duathlon consists of a 5k run, a 15k bike ride and then a final 5k run.  On paper extremely doable (not sure if doable is a word but I am sticking with it) and with my fellow Grazing Saddles team-mate Mr Andy Bawden taking part with me I was excited for the race.

Now as I have blogged before, these races all seem to require you to get up very early in the morning.  Luckily for me, my baby has decided that getting up between 5:30am and 6:00am seems to be the way forward.  Combining this with the brand new puppy that we have just gotten whimpering downstairs as soon as he hears the baby cry meant that I found myself awake at a very civilised 6:30am.

Now organisaton is not my strong point, so upon waking I charged (well sauntered really) around the house looking for things such as shoes and socks.  Andy arrived bang on time at 7:15am (no great surprise) and after I messed about for another 15 minutes we rode our bikes down to the race.

Following racking the bikes (this is a technical duathlon/ triathlon term, meaning to hang it by the saddle from a piece of suspended scaffolding pole made into a “rack”)  we then stood around discussing how cool the race was, and how there seemed to be quite a lot of nice bikes around.  Now I have never coveted another man’s bike before; however I must admit that with Andy’s beautiful new Trek Domane, and many other lovely looking bits of carbon fibre and aluminium suspended from their racks, I did find myself thinking how perhaps investing in a new bike would be a worthwhile use of a couple of grand.  Memo to self: Discuss this with my wife.

Following a race briefing, and spotting Dame Kelly Holmes about 4 metres away on the start line we were off.  Now my shins were already hurting from our 50 metre warmup (pathetic I know) and Andy graciously ran with me for a couple of kilometres before putting his foot down and pulling away.  When I crossed the 3k mark I was in agony in my left shin and genuinely thought I would be better off just stopping.  I was hugely upset that I had rested solidly for the week before to try and help me heal a bit but this had clearly not worked, and the excitement I felt at the start of the race was all but gone.  As more and more people overtook me I reminded myself that I only had 2k to go before I could get on the bike, and this spurred me on to running the first 5k in 28min 16sec (which actually isn’t bad for me at all).

Into transition and onto the bike.  I like bike riding, have always been naturally good on a bike and quickly settled into a steady 18mph, which into a stiff sea breeze was not a bad effort.  Carrying on at this pace we wound our way east and I overtook people.  In fact I overtook a lot of people.  When I eventually got downwind I cruized up to about 24mph and knowing that Andy would be at least 2 or 3 minutes ahead of me, and was determined to catch him.     Eventually I caught sight of him on my second loop of the common, said a quick hello and then pushed on, knowing that I would be close to useless in the second 5k run so I must make time up on the bike.

Finishing the ride in 32mins 39 seconds, I jumped off the bike and was into the second 5k.  Once again this was agony and each time my feet hit the floor it felt like lightening shooting up my shins.  It felt like all of the people I had overtaken on the bike breezed past me as I staggered my way along.  I barely managed an almost run for the final 100 metres to finish the second 5k in 31mins 38 seconds, giving me a total race time of 1hr 32mins and 35 seconds,  3 minutes behind Andy (who was one of the many people that overtook me on the second 5k.

It was great to see his smiling face, and I was very proud of myself for finishing when I was so close to giving up at the start.  Also Andy told me he ran a PB on his first 5k, which is an outstanding achievement and something that really made me smile after a very painful final 5k beforehand.  I have learned many things from this race.  Firstly I must improve my running, secondly I MUST sort out these blasted shin splints, and finally that the buzz you get from these events is simply superb.

As I sit on my sofa typing this I literally cannot wait to get back to training tomorrow.  Perhaps a swim or a ride though rather than a run!

Our first event, the Portsmouth Duathlon is Sunday.  Having received a very nice email from the organisers I was dismayed to read that I was required to register, collect my timing chip and rack my bike at 07:15am.

Now I don’t mind getting up early, and in fact during the week I get up at around 05:30am for work every day, but I fail to see what advantage there is to starting this event so early in the day.  Upon closer inspection of other events it appears that almost every triathlon race starts at the crack of dawn.

Perhaps this is so the lycra clad warriors do not scare the general public (who are sensibly still asleep at this time).  Perhaps it is because triathletes are essentially masochists, and getting up early is just another way to punish yourself.  Perhaps it is because a lot of events do not take place on closed roads, so starting early is a good way to avoid traffic issues.

Whatever it is it is too damn early.  

Rant over.  I am off to search out some triathlons that start in the afternoon.

So, its been a while since my last blog post, and the training is going well.

Am still really suffering with shin splints when I run, but despite this I have managed a record 5k, covered off a 10 mile run (all be it at a far from rapid pace) and pushed through the pain barrier on a 10k that I ran last week with Bushy.

Swimming is also going well, with a couple of 2k swims under my belt.  I am also loving the cycling, and seeing my average speed on the 40k plus rides slowly increase.

With only a week to go until my first event of the year, the Portsmouth Duathlon (5k run, 15k bike, 5k run) I have been sent over to Berlin for work.  I simply adore Berlin.  The city is amazing, the food (essentially consisting of bread, sausage and very very nice beer) suits my palate immensely and the weather here is superb.  All this is not going to have a very positive effect on my training though.

Still who cares?  The whole idea of this crazy Ironman adventure is to complete an Ironman race, not panic about missing training sessions and obsess over the fact that I am drinking too much high quality German lager, eating too many pretzels and doing absolutely no training what so ever.  Not to mention the shisha pipe (don’t tell my Mum).

So that’s that then.  No real training this week (am tapering for my event) and am making sure to load plenty of carbohydrates nice and early ahead of the Duathlon at the weekend.  All this is straight out of the Triathletes training manual and so fits in with my training plan perfectly as far as I can see.

Anyway gotta go now.  Have an afternoon of work to do, then may well venture out to sample a few steins of Berliner.

Aufwiedersehen