As I sit in my nice warm home, sipping on a lager reflecting on the Gut Buster, my very final event for the year and as a consequence reflecting on 2012. What a year this has been, I am pleased.

This morning I prepped for the Gut Buster with my capsule for the final day of the course of anti-biotics to help me get over a niggly chest infection / dose of man flu that had kicked in three weeks ago, and refused to go away. Thankfully I was, for the most part, better now, but a week ago in the grips of fever I had very much doubted I would be running the Gut Buster.  Thankfully I popped the last capsule.

At registration I had expected cold and perhaps a bit of overcast weather, but it transpired the day was super cold, very grey and wet. The to be expected mud was said to be very bad, and the course tough. I had opted for the longer 10 mile course, a multi-terrain route. Immediately my concern was staying warm, my feet were frozen courtesy of the Five Fingers and while I had my Vivo bare foots and warm socks with me, I didn’t relish the prospect of fishing these out of a mud bath during the run. The mud fishing would be a consequence of elastic laces, oh well, I was an off road running novice learning the hard way.

Cassidy, my eldest, had volunteered for marshalling but wisely took the offered refuge with her sister and mother in the car. A wise decision that I certainly envied while I queued up for the toilet, my guilt at dragging everyone from their warm beds and into the cold during the peak of yuletide winter was really stinging. But they had all emerged out into the grey morning to support me – love that family of mine!

The run start was seemingly low key with a lot of runners keen to be on their way for warmth, if nothing else. Obviously the type of runner prepared to slog through mud and ice cold water across the countryside is not the typical summer fun jogger. The standard of running was understandably high from the outset.

The course was very hard work. Normal pathways were relegated to muddy quagmires (scarily close to barb fences in places), fields became long, squelching, energy sapping hauls and puddles became ice cold ponds. The fjord across a small country road which typically would have been ankle to calf deep flowed strongly and, at a guess, seemed to be at least knee deep. All the runners, myself included, opted for the safer path to the right rather than ploughing straight through. Fighting mud wIth a complete lack of grip underfoot with Vibrams (or any other shoe too, I think) I found the going tough and more than once felt like I was going to kiss my gluteus medius on the way down. Actually I seemed to be more keen to kiss my gluteus than other competitors, with arms and legs flailing more than once. The odd stretch of tar was very well received, although at one stage on the road I was seized with a bit of a coughing fit.

The 10 mile run was tough, very tough and hilly and muddy, muddy, oh so muddy. I was pleased when I crossed the line to find my loyal wife standing freezing, waiting for me (the girls sheltered in the car). So would I do the event again? Too soon to agree to that, but it certainly is an education in off-road running, and certainly closes the year. But did I have a good time? Yes I did, that was very tough running well outside my normal comfort zone and something I had sorely underestimated. I recommend the event. It is great to run around a landmark like Roman Silchester. I am sure The GutBuster will be even bigger next year, the third year for the event, although I believe it was fully subscribed this year. Excellent value for money with a friendly atmosphere and a nice finishers medal that makes it all worthwhile!

Total Time 1h30’35

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From the outset I have to get this report right, this was the best race ever! You don’t need to read my entire page of ramblings to know you must do this event next year!

My final planned triathlon of the season, and one that I had been dreading since the beginning of the year. For some bizarre reason when hunting the 2012 race calendar for a middle distance event, I had settled on the Little Woody. No not the flatter, well trod events for me. No it had to be a decent scalp, something worth dreading, I am truly demented.

And so I found myself in the budget hotel room in Gloucester on Saturday morning – 5am feeling sick to my stomach. I had, had the chance to scout some of the cycle route the night before and was wishing I hadn’t. The hills looked really bad, massive climbs in and out of villages with Alpinesque switchbacks. Okay for training, but I was going to go racing on this stuff. Added to that the organisers touting of the event, as one of the UK’s toughest, I didn’t have an opinion on that but it did scare me. I was starting to make negotiations with my wife Susan to just go home and say we’d done the event, no one need know. This sounded more sensible.

But, I found myself queuing up on a pontoon, in my trusty Orca wetsuit at the National Diving Centre where I had racked up my bike the night before. The swim location was turning out to be stunning. Something I hadn’t appreciated in the rainy dusk the evening before. Firstly the weather was playing ball and was sunny, for a second the water at the bottom of this flooded quarry was crystal clear. Turquoise, warm and crystal clear. After waiting for some stragglers on the full Iron Man race to creep around on their final lap we set off. My plan to lay back and take it easy evaporated as I immersed myself in the environment. The swim was turning out to be the best open water swim I had ever done. Utterly breathtaking, and so I set out to enjoy the swim, meaning I soon found myself at the front pack. Drafting was simplicity itself since being able to clearly see the competition one could position oneself perfectly. I don’t mind saying I enjoyed this for the first half lap. After which it seemed sensible to not hang about. Either everybody was being far cleverer than me and preferred to conserve valuable energy resources or I was a complete mug. But I decided to enjoy myself as much as was sensible and give the competition something to chase. I emerged out the water at the ladders first. That had been easy, running out the quarry to T1 was not so! Luckily I, as had the seemingly the rest of the field stored a pair of trainers at the foot of the quarry climb. A steep climb it was too. I had decided to not go crazy at this part of the course and let the heart rate settle. I made into T1 6^th after the 800m or so climb out the quarry, but was very relaxed and enjoying myself immensely.

I got to chat to my supporters (wife and daughters) while stripping off my wetsuit, before setting off on my lap of the Forest of Dean. I had decided to pace and relax myself from the outset. So while munching away on a Power Bar I  rode on. The race was now entirely with myself, I would be ignoring everyone and everything else until the finish line.

The first dreaded col turned out to be very manageable. I was surprised. The second climb was even less of an issue. I began to settle down and enjoy the ride, that twisted around narrow roads, and as the name suggested oft heavily wooded roads. More than one downhill was breathtaking galloping along at 40mph+ for minutes at a time, what a rush. The signage along some of the roads warned of sheep and right those signs were, sheep everywhere in places. Where the hell was I? Fortunately towards the end of the cycle when the back was starting to tire some more hills loomed. This gave me a chance to get out of the aero position and out of the saddle, getting the circulation going and a much-needed reprieve to those muscles. Hills are not all bad it seems. I also decided to take it easy, I thought to myself 15 miles no problem, take them easy going and loose a few minutes and preserve yourself for the run. And then without seeing it coming the cycle leg was over, I still felt very fresh and had enjoyed the loop of the Forest of Dean immensely, some stunningly picturesque cycling and fast riding – that was tough??

I got to chat to the family while I moved through T2 (split transition) I was really enjoying myself. But I was still nervous about the run. My previous and first step up to middle distance had hurt on the run at Antwerp. But this time rather than throwing myself at the run like I would at an Olympic or Sprint (go mental) I was going to pace myself strictly and measure where I was. And so my run of monitoring my HRM keeping the max at 80% to 85% began. This turned out to be a very slow pace for me. Fortunately this was exactly what I had trained for recently, slow running – time on the feet.

The run turned out to be 3 laps of a vicious climb, utterly merciless and a fair portion off road to boot. The route planner is clearly a sadist. I was determined that I wasn’t going to be walking any of it. I paced and paced myself some more. I noticed that apart from a few fleet footed wonders who blazed past early on, I seemed for the most part to be maintaining my position. Painfully in the beginning, but growing stronger towards the end. In fact I think I was just settling down at the end! Were it not for a burst of excitement at the end in which I lifted my pace past carefully managed and into the red after the finish. I wont provide the full color of the details – let us just say a repeat of some of the fun in Antwerp!

Swim 00:35:25 T1 00:02:11 Cycle 03:01:52 T2 00:01:15 Run 01:54:14 Final 05:34:59

I felt I had redeemed myself at the 70.3 distance especially on a tougher course – next time quicker

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My attempt to collate the wondeful blur of the past weekend Antwerp 70.3 into something meaningful and possibly useful. After arriving Antwerp on Friday evening, and registering the following day the reality started to materialise while digging into my complimentary pasta meal at the pasta party. Delicious pasta and good value at the additional €10 per ticket for the girls. Yes, my loyal supporters, wife and two daughters, had travelled with me to Antwerp to behold my latest assault upon myself, and help me get through it. The dawning reality so far consisted of a gift rucksack, T-Shirt and bottle of champagne. All of which I decided must wait till I found myself worthy post race.

I had decided to ignore some of the male swaggering which included arriving with either one’s bike designed through extensive wind tunnel research, or carrying your three-spoked carbon wheels with you to see registration (they must get lonely left on their own). I jest not. I was confident there would be plenty of bike gazing the next morning at the actual event.

The morning did not disappoint. After the longish walk from T2, the recommended parking, to T1 on the opposite side of the river reached by accessing a subterannean tunnel via a historic wooden esculator, the oldest of it’s kind apparently. The triathlete equivalent of “Debbie does aero bikes” started rolling when I enetered T1 to rack up, with a plethora aero carbon frames and full carbon disc wheels being almost the standard. But I was determined to be cool, I had the better engine right, right? Racking up was easy, clearly labelled, but with only part of my kit laid down since this was a split transition did leave me feeling a little odd, if not bewildered. As did the late start, I think I would have boiled half alive if I had zipped straight into the wet suit waiting in the pods. The 1130, Wave 4, had quite a long wait.

The swim went well, with me taking my time to whittle down the competition in my wave slowly, by the time the final stretch was in sight I was passing the stragglers of the previous wave. Up and out for the short run to T1 without misadventure. Rip off wetsuit and stuff it all into the blue bag that would be dropped off at T2 for me by thoughtful organisers, and after a quick wave of confidence to my supprters, wife & kids, I was off on the next part of the adventure.

The cycle course was not quite the mythical pan-flat course that gets bragged about in my opinion and I did find the wind direction very variable but thankfully not overly strong. I would think a windy day would be a real challenge out there in the open. Three laps of main course seemed to go by quickly without misadventure. Although despite seemlingly strict refereeing being in place I did notice something of a peloton go blazing past me at some piont (happily penalties were dispensed, thank you ref).

At T2 I happily found my running bits and peices waiting for me, and my wet suit from T1 neatly placed. Thanks Iron Man people! Unfortunately my happily non eventful triathlon ended here and the real pain and challenge of the day began. I set out at my normal half-marathon pace, ok, maybe a bit faster, closer to the Olympic distance pace. It felt good for about ten minutes or so, then… cramp here… cramp there .. pain there.. legs getting slower and uh-oh really in trouble now.. keep going … sore… keep going.. all stop as I lost all my electrolyte drink and gels, while staring into a very interesting Antwerp storm drain. It may have been too much electrolyte in the mix and my hamfisted measuring of the mixture for my second bottle. Or perhaps I had just gone to hard on the bike not sure really. Anyway the wind was really out the sails now. After the very welcome sight of Susan (my wife) and two girls, I managed to run-walk the rest, for a dismal bleak 2 and a half hour 13 mile run. I am pretty ashamed of that time, considering I normally dip comfortably below two hours during training, or quicker during race mode. But as a consequence I am now electing to run harder in training, and more maturely train for the longer run. I think probably the main error on my part.

It was the cheering on of my wife and family that kept me going when things felt the toughest. That and the shouts of “Gooo Basingstoke!” or “Come on Basingstoke!”, club colors really stand out.

So to wrap up. While feeling very confident and almost competitive at the Olympic distance I found the half-Iron a big step up and a real test of will power. I need to work harder on the run and run harder during training, but am happily surprised and pleased with the my cycle strength. The Pros ofcourse make it all look so easy. I feel pretty hooked to the 70.3 distance. My total time 5H58, so catch you next year Antwerp.

P.S. Would be good to be there with some club mates next year!

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Where: Bournemouth
When: 8 July 2012 – 7.45am Start
Organiser: Concept Sports
Course: Sea swim, flat-ish cycle route, out-&-back seaside run (gorgeous!)
Distance(s): 1500m swim, 40km Bike, 10km Run
Marshalling: Marshalls, clearly signed
Technical: Chip Timing
Freebies: Redbull & event T-Shirt

After gazing on the stormy sea on the Saturday afternoon after registration I was anxious. Despite feeling equal to fair sized swells and waves it wasn’t looking like the most welcoming of environments. Sunday dawned dry (almost) with breaks of sun through the cloud.

Racking up at transition was more challenging compared to last year. Numbers were out of sequence and missing in some cases. Luckily I had my space, although very cramped, less than the 40cm needed for a handlebar width. Some guys had to rack along the perimeter as a consequence. This was the only technical disappointment of the race and is probably down to the success of the event, I am sure it will be improved for next year.

Luckily again as with last year race day resulted with a calm sea (in fact later in the day completely flat). Feeling privileged to be beginning a race on such a wonderful beach in such a stunning location my race started with a whistle blast.

The swim was fairly uneventful, apart from making a mental note in bold to make a comfort stop before the start of my next race, not a welcome distraction and eats into time Ashley. I came out with the first place swimmer after my now typical under whelmed start to the swim. The only catch to this all was the banana I had eaten few minutes before the start threatened several times while I ran up the beach to transition (about 150 metres) and T1. Not a pretty sight a green faced Dad, for my eldest, Cassidy, cheering me on. So I am left with two mental notes, both of which I really should know better. That will teach me to think I am being clever substituting beetroot juice for banana.

Running out of transition was a breeze and I got to up close enough to my wife, Susan and daughter on the way out to hear shouts of encouragement. The cycle was flat-ish after a hilly start in the town centre, the route taking you out and back along one of the main ‘A’ roads into Bournemouth. Being in the last wave there was a lot of competitor traffic to navigate, I supposed it helped with any boredom. Typically I prefer to settle down and focus if it is a luxury I have. My cycle completed almost uneventfully. Other than I had to stop at a red light of a pedestrian crossing for a father and kids. One of my competitors decided not to be bothered with that and shot through past me. Number 45x*, not cool.

The run out of transition clearly marked I got to see my family again. Unluckily I don’t think I took enough energy on board towards the end of the bike or over did it, not sure which. Because the run hurt, cramps almost everywhere at one point or another. Which was a real pity, so I had to run slower than I would have liked. Still, I had a great time, doing a nice race.

* Withheld to protect those involved

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Where: Reading Lake
When: 27 May 2012 – 8.00am Start
Organiser: Tri20
Distance: 3800m swim
Technical: some guy on the jetty shouts your time (online publication)
Freebies: Finishers medal bling

In brief: A very well organised event, friendly experienced staff. Good open water, no complaints at all.

I have been in two minds as to write a race report for Sundays, Big Fish 3800m, that I took part in at the Reading Lake. For two reasons the effort I put in feels below my best and secondly my preparation was zero. Thankfully the friendly atmosphere of the Reading Lake makes this a none-issue.

My participation was decided over beer(s) on the hot Saturday night before, and my anticipation confined to the minutes leading up to the siren start only. I was certainly blaise, but the 3800m distance was a bit less than the training distance I would normally aspire for on a Sunday morning. I had already been looking forward to swimming in the lake all week (not necessarily racing) as the mercury soared to welcome heights keeping the water temperature a very pleasant 19.7.C.

Lining up at start I had hoped to see one or two known faces sadly none in sight (did see tri member later). Additionally I had decided to give my clan of loyal supporters (wife Susan, and the girls) the morning off since I was just there to enjoy the swim. To this my plan evolved, keep away from the energetic serious swimmy looking lot in my wave and enjoy a training swim. The £20 entry allowed for this indolent attitude.

After the siren blared and the white water had settled down, and my usual insufferable navigation skills were warmed up to their best I found myself trailing a pack of my wave by a 100 meters or so after three laps of five, luckily a fair number of the remainder of the wave was still behind me. At this point I thought well, why not? And put some more concerted effort into the swim. Unfortunately I had left it far too late and came in seventh on 1h05 which was far from stellar!

But a lesson to be drawn, if I were taking things more seriously I would have been more agressive at the beginning of the race which perhaps would have made me more competitive. An important fact to bear in mind on real race days don’t blow out at the start, but don’t sit back too long either. Also keep up practising navigation and make straight lines between those buoys!

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I thought I’d stick with the format Ricky introduced in his last report…

Where: Bradford on Avon
When: 20 May 2012 – 8.30am Start
Organiser: DBMax Multisport Events
Course: River swim, technical and scenic hilly cycle route, out-&-back riverside run
Distance(s): 1000m swim, 36km Bike, 10km Run
Marshalling: Marshalls all junctions (almost)
Technical: Chip Timing, event photography (some)
Freebies: 9Bar energy bars and finishers medal
Photography: Sporty Snaps

In brief…the event is very well organised, well supported with a strong turnout. Currently in it’s 2nd year and certain to become a must on the calendar. Some nasty hills towards the end.

There were concerns about the both the weather and water conditions by the organisers. Thankfully the earlier mandatory long sleeve cycle jersey and gloves requirement was dropped (still need to get my club LS jersey). Unfortunately the waterflow was still very strong as a result of the recent rains in the Avon which lead to a reduction in the swim distance from 1500m to 1000m, the water temperature had thankfully risen to a tropical 12.5C.

At the start the majority of the pack headed for the mid stream as advised by the race director and at the last buoy turned against the current heading back hugging as close to the bank as possible. For my part after settling down from from the shock to the system I found myself happily catching and pushing along with the rest of the pack. It was a surprise when I caught the 2nd place and then 1st place man. I ended up out the water first for my wave with no one in sight at the time – happy days. The rest of the day would just be about damage control.

Transition was quick I opted to forgo any cycle jersey or gloves. Out on the cycle I didn’t regret this decision and felt comfortable throughout the duration. I relinquished my lead to a much better cyclist at 10Km and then P2 at 15Km, after that I started to drift back. Although I cheekily stole two places back into P2 along a straight and modest uphill at one point! A couple of nasty hills towards the end amongst the worst I’ve seen were the price to pay for the rapid downhills that had a aerobar ban (instant DQ). The hills really hurt and took the wind out the sails (mine certainly!), with switchback after switchback.

Back into transition and out quicker than others (ziplock laces!) meant I picked a few places back. But here is a lesson, I hadn’t expected my feet to be completely numb from the cycle. Typically I forgo socks in a race, and the crisp morning had worked it’s magic, left with no feeling at all in the feet. This didn’t work well for me at all, since my running style relies on minimalist footwear and the feedback from the road is pretty essential. I was effectively left clumping along trying to get feeling back in my feet for the first 3Km. Not good for running!

My end time 2h29, not too bad overall for the start to the season I suppose, more work on the bike is needed. I enjoyed feeling competitive for a time, and learn’t to have healthy respect for the early races of the season. I’d definitely do the same event again, hopefully there will be full 1500m next time for those who need all the time they can get out of the swim!

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