Thursday 29 May 2014
The next step.
Having fully recovered from my efforts in Majorca, I have now returned to the platform I work on. Training is never easy, especially when faced with long working hours, limited gym equipment (although here, I am lucky) and an endless supply of cake! The Watt Bike is an absolute Godsend, out here. Teamed with a quality treadmill, I do count myself lucky. Ironically, despite being surrounded by water, I am can't do any swim training! So, I have to do what I can with the gym equipment, to try to strengthen the muscles used for swimming. A couple of days ago, I noticed that I hadn't planned anything for my next leave... No racing!... Soon sorted that, by entering the Fritton Olympic distance tri, on the 15th June. It'll be good to experience an Oly distance, ahead of the Virgin London Tri, so I can better judge the efforts I can put in, over the different distances. Good also, to gain more experience swimming in close proximity of others... Something I am still not overly comfortable with. Training has gone well, so far, during my first week offshore. My coach has increased my training durations and I seem to be adapting well to them. The last three days were quite tough sessions, with running intervals, followed by intervals on the Watt Bike, followed by 90 minutes on the running machine. I hit all of the requirements in each session and still feel strong, so I guess the intensity will be raised, shortly. Breaking new trainers in, again, this month. This time, I've opted for a pair of Brooks Ghost 6. So far, so good, but I think I may go for a lighter, more reactive pair, prior to London. Must be strong, and stay away from the cake, though...
Wednesday 14 May 2014
IM Majorca 70.3, 2014.
A few days have now passed, and I am finally home at last.
Not sure exactly where to start the blog from, so for the benefit of ease, I'm just going to start at the beginning of the week.
I arrived in Alcudia, Tuesday 6th May, just before the IRONMAN corporate circus hit town!
I was quietly impressed, by the the speed and organisation which quickly constructed everything needed for the race.
A series of marquee's were erected around an area at the beach, which formed the basis of the athlete's village.
A few hundred metres inland, the Transition began to take shape, all 500m of it!
Wednesday, I managed a quick spin on the bike. More so to check all the bolts were tight, but also the to wake my legs up!
It was then time for registration, where I was 'tagged' with the IM blue bracelet and issued with my 'bags' and AG swim cap (Black). Next day it was time for transition, and the placement of my 'red' and 'blue', run & bike bags. Issued with my timing chip, I walked back to the hotel.
A sea swim and an easy run were also squeezed in, prior to the race start.
As each day passed, the Ironman village grew and grew, until it pretty much dominated the whole town.
I was quite nervous about the swim... I knew I could do the distance in a pool, but OW swimming is very new to me, as is a mass start event!
Friday night didn't pose much in the way of nerves. I slept reasonably well, occasionally stirred by the odd external noise...
Saturday, 6am, the iPhone chirped into life and I leapt from my bed. Heading into the hotel restaurant, I was quite taken aback, by the amount of other entrants! I hadn't noticed so many staying, and they hadn't left much for me!
I ate what I could and then grabbed my wetsuit, heading off to transition, for a last minute check of my bike.
The previous day, I had decided on a 'two bottle strategy' (because of the heat), and bought a bottle cage holder to be fitted to the saddle rails. I now fitted the assembly.
A quick glance over the bike and I was happy that all was as it should be.
Down at the beach, I donned my wet suit and timing chip. Nervously, I made my way to the waters edge for a warm up swim. Temperature was fine, so I dispatched a few hundred metres, then strolled out again. Finished the last of my drink, swilling the salty sea taste from my throat.
I casually watched, as the Pro's began their race, followed by the women, then the rest of the AG's were taking their turn...
Suddenly, a volunteer beckoned to me, to join the start area... This was it, my time had come.
I heard the count down to the horn, 4, 3, 2, ONE!...
Not being the strongest of swimmers, I had joined near the back. The idea of getting battered in the 'biff' was not very interesting to me. Entering the water, I felt remarkably calm. Conscious of my pre race plan, to not go off hard I concentrated on maintaining a steady stroke rate. As things settled, I took some comfort from passing an occasional breast stoker. I had to really concentrate on my sighting, as I zig zagged my way through the course, each 'zig zag' was extra metres I didn't need to swim!
I gazed at fish, swimming along the sea bed, spotted goggles and swim cap, dislodged by the earlier 'biff', then suddenly, the sea bed was replaced by sand and very quickly, I could touch it.
I was up on my feet, and heading out of the water!
Feeling a little breathless, but pretty good. I think I was more genuinely surprised at having done it. None too happy with my time, though. My poor sighting seemed to have cost me more than I had allowed for.
Never mind, time for the bike, so I undid my zip and pulled the suit to my waist, as I jogged the never ending blue ribbon of carpet, that lined the route...
Into T1, no problem spotting my 'bike' bag (I had taken great care in memorising the position of the bags and my bike). Quickly found a space on the bench in the changing tent and set about removing the wetsuit completely, grabbing a quick gulp on an energy gel, then getting my cycling shoes on.
All the kit you remove has to be put back into the 'bike' bag, before leaving.
Dropping the blue bag at the 'Drop Zone', I head out to my bike, about 3/4 of the way through transition...
Bike located, helmet on, number belt on. Unhook the bike from the rail and follow the rest, with that ungainly gallop that we do, when running in cleats!
Over the line, mount the bike, GO!
Now, in my comfort zone, I make myself comfortable and begin spinning a steady gear, whilst my legs wake up. Gradually clicking up the gears, until I'm happy with my pace.
Not long before I hit the first feed station. I eject my slightly used bottle and refill my bottle cages with two new bottles. My Garmin is set for 20 min alerts, so I don't forget to take on nutrition. Progress is steady. As things calm down and settle I become aware of the spectators, cheering everyone along.
Soon the route pitches upwards! It's feeling warmer now, too. No problem, just keep tapping out a steady rhythm on the pedals, there's a long way to go yet.
Someone puts a bit of a burst in, overtaking me as we meander up the climb. They're not as strong as they think, though, and wobble as they pass, knocking me off, into the gutter!
A few Brits around me shout to enquire if I'm ok? I am, and let them know it, before quickly remounting and continuing.
Soon I was at the Col de sa Batalla, a slight hiccup in the route and false sense of achievement, if you don't know that Col de Femenia lies just ahead!
Both despatched with, it's time to turn left and hit the decent!
A fabulous section of road, but the hairpins need respect, as a few found out! One rider was taken away by Air Ambulance.
Once down the decent, the road just undulates most of the way back. There is, however, one short sharp accent, not too far from home... A sharp left turn and just head straight up! There is a false flat, about half way up, and as I hit part two, I thought I'd jump on the pedals and battle my way through... My quads didn't think too much of this, and both cramped immediately, making me fall off the bike!
No option but to walk it off, I headed up the climb on foot. After about 30 metres, I was ok. jumped on the bike and continued to TT back to T2. Great last sections of road, allowing the use of the extensions and a good tucked ride.
Removed my feet from the pedals and shifted to a light gear, to spin my way on the last 200 metres of the bike. Decided not to do my usual dismount at full speed and came to a halt. As I stepped off the bike, I realised I had a problem!
The heat and effort had made my feet swell in the shoes. This has the same effect as wearing tight shoes for cycling, in that the outside edges of my feet were almost unbearable to touch!
I hobbled to the rack and left my bike, trying to flex my feet as I walked to the 'run' bag and swapped for my running shoes.
I just hoped that if I walked a bit, this may ease off... It did start to ease, but never went completely, but I did manage to start run/ walking, and almost continual running by the end.
I was truly gutted at that. Feeling great as you dismount the bike, to find that you can hardly put one foot in front of the other.
The swollen feet also meant running without socks. This not new to me, as I do most running without socks, but I thought that with the excess sweat etc, socks may help. Not sure if it would have happened anyway, but the blister I got on my right foot was a cracker!
And so, I eventually arrived at the finish chute. Three colour bands on my arm (one per lap) and I turned left, off the course and under the IRONMAN Bridge.
What a sense of relief, and disappointment mixed... My feet were knackered, but I was fine.
I grabbed my 'Finishers' tee shirt and 'white' bag, and headed back to the hotel.
After a shower, I walked to Transition and collected the rest of my kit and my bike.
I know many people knock IRONMAN events, because of the corporate branding exercise and fees charged, but you can't fail to see the quality of event they deliver. Nothing is missed, nothing left to guess work. The experience you feel will last forever.
The support from the crowd is fantastic, picking out your name from your number and shouting you on, as if they knew you, and the volume got louder with each lap.
Even the other Brit riders shouting you on as they passed you, or you passed them.
Needless to say, if I can work it into my rota, I will be there next year...
Now to get back to my training programme... Next stop London!
A few days have now passed, and I am finally home at last.
Not sure exactly where to start the blog from, so for the benefit of ease, I'm just going to start at the beginning of the week.
I arrived in Alcudia, Tuesday 6th May, just before the IRONMAN corporate circus hit town!
I was quietly impressed, by the the speed and organisation which quickly constructed everything needed for the race.
A series of marquee's were erected around an area at the beach, which formed the basis of the athlete's village.
A few hundred metres inland, the Transition began to take shape, all 500m of it!
Wednesday, I managed a quick spin on the bike. More so to check all the bolts were tight, but also the to wake my legs up!
It was then time for registration, where I was 'tagged' with the IM blue bracelet and issued with my 'bags' and AG swim cap (Black). Next day it was time for transition, and the placement of my 'red' and 'blue', run & bike bags. Issued with my timing chip, I walked back to the hotel.
A sea swim and an easy run were also squeezed in, prior to the race start.
As each day passed, the Ironman village grew and grew, until it pretty much dominated the whole town.
I was quite nervous about the swim... I knew I could do the distance in a pool, but OW swimming is very new to me, as is a mass start event!
Friday night didn't pose much in the way of nerves. I slept reasonably well, occasionally stirred by the odd external noise...
Saturday, 6am, the iPhone chirped into life and I leapt from my bed. Heading into the hotel restaurant, I was quite taken aback, by the amount of other entrants! I hadn't noticed so many staying, and they hadn't left much for me!
I ate what I could and then grabbed my wetsuit, heading off to transition, for a last minute check of my bike.
The previous day, I had decided on a 'two bottle strategy' (because of the heat), and bought a bottle cage holder to be fitted to the saddle rails. I now fitted the assembly.
A quick glance over the bike and I was happy that all was as it should be.
Down at the beach, I donned my wet suit and timing chip. Nervously, I made my way to the waters edge for a warm up swim. Temperature was fine, so I dispatched a few hundred metres, then strolled out again. Finished the last of my drink, swilling the salty sea taste from my throat.
I casually watched, as the Pro's began their race, followed by the women, then the rest of the AG's were taking their turn...
Suddenly, a volunteer beckoned to me, to join the start area... This was it, my time had come.
I heard the count down to the horn, 4, 3, 2, ONE!...
Not being the strongest of swimmers, I had joined near the back. The idea of getting battered in the 'biff' was not very interesting to me. Entering the water, I felt remarkably calm. Conscious of my pre race plan, to not go off hard I concentrated on maintaining a steady stroke rate. As things settled, I took some comfort from passing an occasional breast stoker. I had to really concentrate on my sighting, as I zig zagged my way through the course, each 'zig zag' was extra metres I didn't need to swim!
I gazed at fish, swimming along the sea bed, spotted goggles and swim cap, dislodged by the earlier 'biff', then suddenly, the sea bed was replaced by sand and very quickly, I could touch it.
I was up on my feet, and heading out of the water!
Feeling a little breathless, but pretty good. I think I was more genuinely surprised at having done it. None too happy with my time, though. My poor sighting seemed to have cost me more than I had allowed for.
Never mind, time for the bike, so I undid my zip and pulled the suit to my waist, as I jogged the never ending blue ribbon of carpet, that lined the route...
Into T1, no problem spotting my 'bike' bag (I had taken great care in memorising the position of the bags and my bike). Quickly found a space on the bench in the changing tent and set about removing the wetsuit completely, grabbing a quick gulp on an energy gel, then getting my cycling shoes on.
All the kit you remove has to be put back into the 'bike' bag, before leaving.
Dropping the blue bag at the 'Drop Zone', I head out to my bike, about 3/4 of the way through transition...
Bike located, helmet on, number belt on. Unhook the bike from the rail and follow the rest, with that ungainly gallop that we do, when running in cleats!
Over the line, mount the bike, GO!
Now, in my comfort zone, I make myself comfortable and begin spinning a steady gear, whilst my legs wake up. Gradually clicking up the gears, until I'm happy with my pace.
Not long before I hit the first feed station. I eject my slightly used bottle and refill my bottle cages with two new bottles. My Garmin is set for 20 min alerts, so I don't forget to take on nutrition. Progress is steady. As things calm down and settle I become aware of the spectators, cheering everyone along.
Soon the route pitches upwards! It's feeling warmer now, too. No problem, just keep tapping out a steady rhythm on the pedals, there's a long way to go yet.
Someone puts a bit of a burst in, overtaking me as we meander up the climb. They're not as strong as they think, though, and wobble as they pass, knocking me off, into the gutter!
A few Brits around me shout to enquire if I'm ok? I am, and let them know it, before quickly remounting and continuing.
Soon I was at the Col de sa Batalla, a slight hiccup in the route and false sense of achievement, if you don't know that Col de Femenia lies just ahead!
Both despatched with, it's time to turn left and hit the decent!
A fabulous section of road, but the hairpins need respect, as a few found out! One rider was taken away by Air Ambulance.
Once down the decent, the road just undulates most of the way back. There is, however, one short sharp accent, not too far from home... A sharp left turn and just head straight up! There is a false flat, about half way up, and as I hit part two, I thought I'd jump on the pedals and battle my way through... My quads didn't think too much of this, and both cramped immediately, making me fall off the bike!
No option but to walk it off, I headed up the climb on foot. After about 30 metres, I was ok. jumped on the bike and continued to TT back to T2. Great last sections of road, allowing the use of the extensions and a good tucked ride.
Removed my feet from the pedals and shifted to a light gear, to spin my way on the last 200 metres of the bike. Decided not to do my usual dismount at full speed and came to a halt. As I stepped off the bike, I realised I had a problem!
The heat and effort had made my feet swell in the shoes. This has the same effect as wearing tight shoes for cycling, in that the outside edges of my feet were almost unbearable to touch!
I hobbled to the rack and left my bike, trying to flex my feet as I walked to the 'run' bag and swapped for my running shoes.
I just hoped that if I walked a bit, this may ease off... It did start to ease, but never went completely, but I did manage to start run/ walking, and almost continual running by the end.
I was truly gutted at that. Feeling great as you dismount the bike, to find that you can hardly put one foot in front of the other.
The swollen feet also meant running without socks. This not new to me, as I do most running without socks, but I thought that with the excess sweat etc, socks may help. Not sure if it would have happened anyway, but the blister I got on my right foot was a cracker!
And so, I eventually arrived at the finish chute. Three colour bands on my arm (one per lap) and I turned left, off the course and under the IRONMAN Bridge.
What a sense of relief, and disappointment mixed... My feet were knackered, but I was fine.
I grabbed my 'Finishers' tee shirt and 'white' bag, and headed back to the hotel.
After a shower, I walked to Transition and collected the rest of my kit and my bike.
I know many people knock IRONMAN events, because of the corporate branding exercise and fees charged, but you can't fail to see the quality of event they deliver. Nothing is missed, nothing left to guess work. The experience you feel will last forever.
The support from the crowd is fantastic, picking out your name from your number and shouting you on, as if they knew you, and the volume got louder with each lap.
Even the other Brit riders shouting you on as they passed you, or you passed them.
Needless to say, if I can work it into my rota, I will be there next year...
Now to get back to my training programme... Next stop London!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)