The Forestman Triathlon 2011

While I have been competing in triathlons for a number of years now, having a go at an iron distance race had always been a large goal. Lack of consistency in my approach and a smattering of injuries in the last couple of years had prevented me from making the comittment but at the end of last year I made the decision to enter the Forestman, as I knew that if I entered an event then I would usually find my way to the start line somehow. I got sidetracked, again, with Adam and I entering the DW but I looked at it as good core and conditioning and the running I was doing seemed to help, but bike work and swimming was sporadic. Once the DW was out the way, it left me with approximately 8 weeks or so to get into some sort of shape and over those weeks I was comfortably averaging 11-12 hours per week (peaking at 15 hours 3 weeks out). Swimming and cycling suddenly clicked, but at the expense of any proper run volume. As the race approached it was obvious that it was going to be about getting to T2 and then get to the end as best as I could. A target time was out the window; it was just going to be about finishing and learning.

Pre-race

Simon had entered the event with me so we decided to share a tent at Sandy Balls. It's a great venue, but our pitch was sandwiched between a particulary noisy family, a set of bins and the children's playground; not exactly perfect A race preparation. We got the tent up and headed off to lunch and the race briefing where we caught up with a few TT'ers. The briefing given by Richard was thorough and good humoured and after sorting out all the pre-race stuff we racked our bikes and drove the bike route again. At 7pm it was heads down but I didn't drop off until gone 11pm, listening to the family next door arguing as they put the kids to bed. I ended up waking at 2.15am and dozed until the alarm went off at 3.15 and had a breakfast that consisted of a banana, bowl of cereal and a power bar and began sipping on weak energy drink. We got our own back as we noisily packed the tent and got ready to board the shuttle bus for Ellingham Lake.

At Ellingham we had a final check of kit (tyres were still inflated; always a good sign!) and then got the wettie on ready for the off, which was to be slightly delayed due to some mist. A chaplain said a blessing on the lakeside which got the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end and brought a significant lump to my throat and then we waddled into the water, ready to go.

Swim 66.30 (including T1)

It's funny, I just felt so much more comfortable during this swim than any other OW swim that I've done before. In the past I have trained exclusively in the pool and only done the odd OW session to familiarise myself, whereas in the build up to the Forestman I actually trained properly in OW and it showed. I loved every minute of it. My sighting was great, so much so that I and a small group on the first lap seemed to be the only people at the time to do a full lap, with most of the rest of the field cutting off a corner. There was quite a bit of biff at the start but it really didn't bother me this time, the only real problem being leaky goggles due to getting a kick at the end of lap 1, which was easliy sorted. Simon and I started together and about 400 metres in I saw his distictive white goggles next to me; I was not to see him again until T2.

The mist made everything very atmospheric and monchrome and I was reminded me of Robert Capa's Omaha Beach photographs; it's weird how the mind works at times. I had made a conscious decision to find feet as often as possible, but I ensured that I kept my own sighting going and on the second lap I got into a group of 6 and I was right in the middle getting a great tow and we were all swimming straight, which meant I was not constantly worried about being swum over. At the end of the second lap I could see that we were not taking the same line as we had before but the safety guys in the kayaks were not making us change course so I followed on and had a strong last lap. As I was helped up the ramp I checked my watch and saw the numbers change from 59.59 to 1.00. To say I was happy would be an understatement as I was looking at a time of between 70 and 80 minutes. The day had started really well. 

I went into the change tent and realised that there were not any screens to get changed behind and my towel was the size of a small beer mat, so I ended up getting stripped off in the corner while the marshalls tittered behind me. I had trouble getting my cycle jersey on over wet skin but after a bit of thrashing I had it over me, picked up my bike and made it to the mount line.

On the climb at the top of Ornamental Drive

Bike 6.10

For me, the last 8 weeks had been all about the bike and I really wanted to put in a solid bike leg in the race. During HIM races I usually do something around 2.55-3.00 hours, so at IM intensity I was expecting to target something in the region of 6.30-40. It really helped having recce'd the course a few weeks before and the course very much suited me, with fairly rolling terrain. I took the first 25 minutes or so really easily, spinning out of Ellingham and letting my heart rate settle down before I started to take fluids on board. I had my own bottle of PSP and a bottle of nuun which I planned to consume on the first lap before switching to mule bars and water for the second lap and a half and then for the last hour going onto the Infinite energy drink from the aid stations. It turned out that while I was getting the energy on board in solid form, I was not taking enough liquid on, which would come back to bite me eight hours later. For most of the first lap I was with another chap on a full TT set up and we were swapping places but on any climb I would end up going past as he mashed up the hills, which looked quite painful to me. On every climb I would take the opportunity to spin and at no point did I feel that I was pushing too hard.

In the main, the bike was quite a lonely affair; the fast guys were well off the front and I only had a few people go past me. Slacko caught me at the end of the second lap and I could see that he had taken a nasty looking tumble. I asked him about it as he went past but he was travelling so fast that his words were whipped away by the wind. After that, I was on my own.

The third lap got a little tougher due to the wind picking up so I consciously kept in the small chainring for longer periods. I didn't feel that I particularly needed to but I was mindful of the fact I had a long run ahead of me and that I needed to not over exert myself. At Ornamental drive I overtook a couple of guys who had gone past me some 70 miles before and it was obvious that at least one of them had blown up quite badly. The final run-in was really good and I felt that I had paced it well. I saw 6.08 ish on the cycle computer as I turned in Sandy balls. faster than planned but in terms of RPE I felt I had hit it bang on. Woop woop me!

Back into the change tent, with more gsnerking from the lady marshalls as I got naked  (I did warn them and apologise beforehand), before heading out past the finish chute, onto the run. As I headed out I got a shout from Simon who was just coming into T2, some 15 minutes behind.

Run 5.18 (ouch; including T2)
Ok, I am a runner, so I keep telling myself and anyone else that'll listen. despite lack of run training in the last 8 weeks, I geniunely felt that I should be able to muddle my way around a 4.30 marathon; maybe 5 to 5.5hours as the absolute worse case scenario. So after my really pleasing bike and swim, I was suddenly staring down the barrel of a potential 11.45 ish IM debut. Oh, how wrong could I be.

I had a terrible run, in fact, very little running was involved. Now the more experienced triathletes that may be reading this would say, 'You hit the bike too hard and paid for it on the run.' I genuinely don't think that was the case. The two things that made me come unstuck were the heat (but more specifically, not preparing myself for the heat) and not enough run volume in training. I really do not belive that had I been 15 or 30 minutes slower on the bike that it would have prepared me any better for the run. The point is, and it's a very important point that I forgot, is that 26 miles is a really long way and even a run walk strategy can be hard work; factor in the terrain and the run surface involved in this race and it was always going to end in tears.

I got onto the main loop ok, but then it all started to unravel pretty quickly. The slightest rise, let alone hill would see me grinding to a fairly rapid halt. The loop was basically in two parts; a hillier shady bit (which I could run more of) or a flatter, exposed section, which I could not. It was really disconcerting to find myself with my heart rate going through the roof while running along a flat section. Gradually, the walks got longer and the 'runs' got shorter and I was taking longer and longer to get going at each aid station. I would put 2 cups of water over my head, drink a cup and take about half a cup of infinite. Each time I would try to get running again but my stomach was having none of it and I would have to walk out the aid station for 5 minutes or so in order to let things settle down. I could feel myself overheating on the exposed section and longed to be back into the shade to get some respite.

While all this was going on and I was caught up in my own little world of misery there were a few things that were keeping me going. Simon was going great and it was obvious that he was going to pass me and it was great to see him, have a high five and encourage each other. He caught me at exactly half way and proceeded to put another 20 minutes over me; top bombing from the fella. The support at the aid stations and from the spectators was amazing and some really stick out; the Serpie guy with a hooter and the chaps from the Tri club who were marshalling the aid station where you collected your bands at the end of each lap. Top fellas, but there were so many people out there, encouraging, clapping, cheering. It was very humbling to be honest.

The really low point came as I came in to collect my second band. I had two of the three bands which of course seems like a long way into the run and as I came into the aid station I saw the mile marker that said I still had 12 miles to go. I definetley had a bit of a wobbly bottom lip moment, took the band and walked away onto my final lap trying to console myself with the fact that I was now heading towards my blue and final band.

I don't remember too much about the final lap but my one abiding memory from the day is the lady at the middle aid station. I don't know if I am reading more into this than I should be, but I went through that aid station 7 times and I am fairly certain that every single time it was her who handed me my water and infinite and asked if I was ok and I started to get a sense that she was looking out for me, which only now, a few days later, can I truly appreciate.  On the last visit where we turned for home I was bent double as I poured water over my head and she asked if I wanted to sit down in the shade, but I felt that if I did that then that would be me out of the event. I knew I was not feeling great but I also knew I wasn't far from the finish so I politely said no and walked on. The medical cover was excellent and all the marshalls were doing a fabulous job, but if she's reading this then there's a  massive thank youfrom me.

I had started the run with a guy called Tom, we had had a little chat right at the start and all the way through we had been passing each other but as we went into the last 5 km's he pulled out ahead and I saw him walking up the steep hill to the last aid station. I think he ended up finishing some 10 minutes ahead of me, which I guess shows how much further I was slowing down at the time. I finally got onto the road, past the pub, past the pom pom girls (thanks for the jelly baby and sympathy Mrs M) and then into the finish chute. I don't remember what I said to Richard as I crossed the line and shook his hand but again, there wasn't much emotion at the time except just being glad that I could stop putting one foot in front of the other and sit down.

Afterwards.

The next couple of hours were not pretty. Every other finisher around me was tucking heartily into the excellent food that was laid on. I put a single spoonful of rice on a plate which stayed there and ate half an apple, which I promptly brought straight back up. Simon went and got me more water from the med tent and an energy block chewy thing which took me a while to get through and I had a few crisps to try to get some salt back into me. I didn't appreciate how dehydrated I had become and it took me a good 36 hours to rebalance. I had a shower and slowy I bagean to feel better and realise what I had achieved. Simon's wife and kids had come down to watch him finish but they had to get straight back, so we drove back and swapped stories about our race, which was a great way to finish the day. I got home and I drank almost 2 pints of ice cold milk and demolished a quiche. It was, simply, heaven.

So the plan was to finish, which I did. But what now? Well, it's confirmed a couple of things. Firstly, I know that somewhere inside me there is a half decent IM race waiting to be run but it's a case of me stringing everything together and getting everything right at the same time and it comes back to consistency, again. Secondly, I have to get my running legs back and get some long runs in and prepare mentally to do 26 miles at the end of an IM. On reflection, I lost the mental battle to keep running when I could probably have done so. And lastly, the rules of the 7 p's. I need to prepare for the conditions better. I suffered in the heat on Sunday but it need not have been like that, so with some better consideration of clothing, equipment and nutrition then I reckon I can nail one.