Ridiculous February: The results show

I challenged myself to a big and somewhat ridiculous February - getting some miles in the tank as a good base upon which to build for the races coming later in the year (suddenly, not quite so later either...).

A reminder of the objectives:

• Swim: 28km, one for each day, including a ramp up to a 5km challenge swim for the February Five charity challenge. The swim will be hard, until last week I hadn't got in the pool since February 2015 - almost two years! I had no idea it had been that long.
• Bike: Seeing as there's so much swim and run, I thought I'd add some bike to the mix - I'll go for a sit on the turbo every other day and take in an episode of The Wire (no, I've never seen The Wire, yes I know it's reputedly the best TV series in the world ever).
• Run: The original idea for February was to see how far through the month I could get if I run 1km on the 1st, 2km on the 2nd, 3km on the 3rd, and so on throughout the month. Why? Because it's a bit different, it ramps the load up over 4 weeks and is good for consistency, it's going to be hard, and last but by no means least - it's fun!
• Race: There are a couple of races in here including the Valentines 10k which will give me a chance to see what 10km shape I'm in (an early season attempt at a new PB?), and Dash for the Splash which is going to be wet, muddy, and a whole lot of fun.

So, how did it go? In short: boy, did I ever underestimate the impact of running slightly further every day for a month...

It started off OK (unsurprisingly, running 1km in one day is fairly straightforward), and during the first week it was trivial to hit the pool and sit on the turbo from time to time.

Week 1 - having started off getting *precisely* the right distances, the tone was set...

I had three small wobbles over the month that resulted in missing two (and a half) days of running - but the turbo and swimming dropped off quickly.

Week 2 - scene of the first wobble

The first wobble came on the 9th when my good friend Matt came round to fit some connectors he'd soldered for me - I'd been struggling for literally two years to get it done, so we went to the pub to celebrate. After 4 pints, my 9km run detonated half way through. Apparently magic-beer-energy only lasts 4km, then it's all gone. I limped back home with my tail between my legs and claimed an "amber" in Training Peaks (session not completed, but at least you gave it a shot).

Week 3 - and with no turbo and just one swim, I realised running was enough on its own

The second wobble was the 13th when, after a few days of it building, I was finally beaten by painful toothache and had to get an emergency dental appointment. No running today. Session red.

The third wobble was on the 21st, when (after being out the previous evening) I was in no condition to run! Session red.

Week 4 - emergency trip to the dentist put pay to Tuesday, but apart from that carrying on well

As I started getting into the teens, it got harder to do anything else - the fatigue was building up and it was all I could do to complete the distance the next day, without cycling or swimming too. On the plus side, I didn't miss any more days, and finished strongly on the 28th.

Week 5 - the last couple of days, getting out the door on the 28th was a challenge

As for races - no chance - I simply didn't feel like it. I didn't want to go out, tired, only to tire myself even more for the next day.

Swimming and biking started well, but as noted dropped off fairly quickly. Needless to say, I failed to take on the February Five challenge I'd set myself of swimming 5km (where do I get the idea I can do all this stuff at once?). This puts me in a bit of a quandary as the organiser had already sent me the medal. I'm going to give it a shot tomorrow morning, and hope nobody notices I didn't do it in February! If I don't make it, I'll have to leave the medal in its sealed bag until next year.

If I'd known I was going to get such a pretty graph I'd have tried harder...

In summary, I'll give myself a grade B for the running challenge as despite missing a couple of sessions I am still particularly pleased to have completed all the longer days; and a grade D for everything else - a good start, but bitten off more than I could chew.

I've been wanting to try the ramping-up month for a while, I'm looking forward to a future second attempt.

Ridiculous February

I just invented Ridiculous February.

It's a challenging and motivating month of activity with a few key characteristics:

• Swim: 28km, one for each day, including a ramp up to a 5km challenge swim for the February Five charity challenge. The swim will be hard, until last week I hadn't got in the pool since February 2015 - almost two years! I had no idea it had been that long.
• Bike: Seeing as there's so much swim and run, I thought I'd add some bike to the mix - I'll go for a sit on the turbo every other day and take in an episode of The Wire (no, I've never seen The Wire, yes I know it's reputedly the best TV series in the world ever).
• Run: The original idea for February was to see how far through the month I could get if I run 1km on the 1st, 2km on the 2nd, 3km on the 3rd, and so on throughout the month. Why? Because it's a bit different, it ramps the load up over 4 weeks and is good for consistency, it's going to be hard, and last but by no means least - it's fun!
• Race: There are a couple of races in here including the Valentines 10k which will give me a chance to see what 10km shape I'm in (an early season attempt at a new PB?), and Dash for the Splash which is going to be wet, muddy, and a whole lot of fun.

 The plan for February, courtesy of Training Peaks

Better be careful, at this rate I'll end up entering a triathlon!

The TriLife spring triathlon camp

Although I went with Mrs to Joe Beer’s Triathlon camp at Club la Santa in Lanzarote last year I was very much an observer - my ITBS was in the early stages of recovery and I couldn’t really do anything. I read a lot on our balcony and drank a little too much wine. I didn’t really enjoy the week - I wanted to be out on my bike (I did take it and went on a couple of solo rides but nothing large). I wanted to be able to run, and I wanted the camaraderie that comes from these shared experiences - friendships forged two-thirds of the way up punishing climbs, battered on all sides by the fierce Lanzarote winds.

As it was, I read a lot of Alastair Reynolds (and went on to read his entire back catalogue in 6 months - there are some benefits to being injured and not training!).

Mrs had a mixed time there, but didn’t feel that it had really ticked the training camp box for her, so she followed it up a few weeks later by going away again (without me this time) to The TriLife’s camp in Andalucia, sunny Southern Spain. Great weather was promised, but without the ferocious winds.

Mrs returned totally re-invigorated - motivated, excited about continuing training, and full of praise for the TriLife team. We decided then that, circumstances permitting, we’d both go next year.

It’s now a year on, and true to our word, we’ve just returned from a week in the sun, swimming cycling and running. Mrs was right, it was excellent! But let’s start at the beginning…


Day 0 - Sunday

With an EasyJet flight out at an ungodly hour, we decided to stay at Gatwick airport the night before. Taking the usual tram/train route, the journey was stress-free. It’s a strange experience travelling to an airport with no concern about arrival time - we even let a train go at East Croydon in order to grab a coffee from Costa. Frequent pit-stops are required when dragging around two giant bike boxes (as usual, on hire from the guys at www.bicycleboxhire.co.uk) and assorted baggage.

The Sofitel at Gatwick North was nicer than I expected - featuring a vast atrium with reception, a bar, and a restaurant downstairs. We ate in the posh restaurant (we’re on holiday, right?) and I was pleasantly surprised. A jovial waitress, good swift service, nice wine (may have had some holiday bubbles...), and a good meal. I wouldn’t recommend a trip out to the airport just to eat here, but if you do happen to be staying over, give it a shot.


Day 1 - Monday

Check-in was rapid and uneventful. We saw a few people with bike boxes, but didn’t know who would be with us on the trip. Queueing at the gate we saw Duncan and Liz who run The TriLife, Duncan introduced himself to me as usual, despite us having met on several occasions previously (he did the same at the Virgin London Triathlon last year - I guess I’m just a forgettable kind of guy!).

On the flight I chewed through a few chapters of my latest read, House Of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski (a Christmas present from my parents-in-law and one utterly bonkers story - I’ve never read anything like it!).

We were met at the airport by someone who had a van that was only just large enough to fit us and our luggage all in, and we were off on a 90 minute drive to Desert Springs Golf Resort, our base for the next week. The driver made reference to “The March Winds” which didn’t fill me with joy, but there was no going back now.

Arriving at Desert Springs (which was always in my head as Radiator Springs, from the Disney/Pixar Cars movie), we were met by the other two coaches, Mike and Thom, and assigned our houses. Mrs and I were sharing with Claire Hebblethwaite, who it turns out has raced for Great Britain in the long distance championships! Crap, they aren’t all going to be GB athletes on this trip are they?!

Everyone say, "I love swimming!"

There was one session on this first day, a swim session to wash out the fatigue of travelling and get the training started. We drove down in a couple of minibuses driven by Mike and Thom, also our chauffeurs for the week, and within 15 minutes we were at the pool.

We had three lanes reserved for the dozen or so of us. I was nervous. Often people downplay their fitness and training at times like this, but I honestly hadn’t swum since October! (Apart from a few lengths at Christmas in our hotel pool).

Not been swimming since October!

I swam as best I could. I thought I was slow, my goggles were wonky, I got tired quickly (though it passed as I slowly remembered the lessons I’d had from Jez two years ago). To be honest it was a bit of a blur. New people, new instructions (swim-coaching has its own language it seems), and new experience (I’ve never swum in a lane with other people in a structured session like this).

I got through it without drowning, and lived to fight another day. I looked at the timetable for the rest of the week. Four more swims, and all an hour long - this one was only 45 minutes!


Day 2 - Tuesday

On the bus to the pool we were assigned our swim lanes. I was in lane three, the “faster” lane. I very nearly queried it, I very nearly asked to be in a different lane, I very nearly let out an embarrassing “Whaaaa?…” noise. But no, I was in lane three. Better get on with it.

Radiator Springs, where the grass is trimmed with scissors every day

So, with shoulders and triceps aching from yesterdays “introductory” session (which alone had doubled this year’s swim volume), here I was in a lane with an Aussie guy named Tom who had been competing in triathlon since he was 15, his wife Sue, a South African chap named Justin who looked like an anatomical diagram (does he have any body fat?), and Claire the GB long-distance athlete. Oh crap.

We had Thom as our coach on the end, “Right, 800 swim warm-up”. Hang on what? 32 lengths, to WARM UP? Oh well, better get on with it. The burning in my shoulders and triceps subsided during the warm-up, though I got lapped a couple of times. I tried hard. This was a whole new experience. I think we swam 8x 100m, 16x 50m, and 16x 25m. The timing meant that frequently I’d reach the end of a repetition only for my rest time to have already run out, and I had to turn straight away and push on with the next. When Thom announced we were doing "100s off 1:35" (meaning you have 1 minute and 35 seconds to swim 100m and then any time left over (yeah, right) is rest) I openly laughed at him - I've never swam that fast! This was killing me!

Thom was keeping a close eye on us though, and thankfully gave Sue and me a little more rest - we sat out the middle 100m rep and then every fourth 50m rep. We both pushed on through and finished all the 25m reps though, I’m pleased with that.

Wobbly and a bit light-headed, I put another couple of lengths in to cool down, and finished up. It was only 8:30am, and after breakfast there was a bike ride. There was plenty of breakfast, enough bacon, sausage, scrambled egg, and tomatoes to satisfy my high-fat low-carb requirements.

We assembled on our bikes near reception, I was nervous. Often people downplay their fitness and training at times like this, but I honestly hadn’t cycled regularly for months (check my Garmin Connect history if you don’t believe me!).

Hardly cycled for months either!

My bike, despite living in a tent in the garden for the last 4 months, did not let me down. It performed admirably, good gear-shifting, good braking, and no annoying clicks or rubs. Nothing fell off. We took a circular route round the area, when the wind was with us we flew along, when it was against us we tucked down and pushed forward. Riding closely in a group was another new experience - the bike training I’ve done has been on my own so I’m not used to having to trust the person in front, or have the person behind put their trust in me. The aim is to be very close to the back wheel in front - so close you can’t really see the road so rely on signals and calls to raise awareness of bumps, holes, gravel, etc.

The ride went well, even this first ride of the camp was my longest ride for months, I didn’t get any aches, and felt good. We had a short run scheduled for later in the afternoon when we got back. This was a short route at easy pace. As we've found before, mine and Mrs version of easy pace is quite slow compared to most and so everyone gradually pulled away from us. We were good to run along chatting though. The day was good - first day for a long time I've ticked off a session in all of swim, bike, and run.

Bumping up the fat intake with a tasty strawberry, nut, cream, and yoghurt snack

I slept like a log. 9 hours, and I don't think I even turned over once!


Day 3 - Wednesday

My arms were on fire during this morning’s swim. The lack of swim-fitness was apparent and I fatigued quickly. It turns out lane three wasn't really about speed (though the fastest swimmers were certainly with me) but more about the volume of swimming in the sessions that the coaches thought we could accommodate. Lane 3 had sets that were longer than lane 2, and theirs were longer than lane 1. The volume was certainly challenging. I swam until I had no idea what day it was, what length I was on, or what drill I was supposed to be doing! (OK, slight exaggeration, but only slight!). Next year I will be more swim fit in advance. I also need to bring all the "toys" (pull-buoy, paddles, fins, centre-snorkel - I missed out on some of the technique as a result of not having this kit).

We had another ride today, it was still a bit windy. The group stayed mainly together. We were working well today, starting to get more comfortable with each other and building the trust you need to sit on someone else's wheel with just a few inches between you. It's an essential skill, the energy saving is substantial (well into the tens of percents).

No run today, but a stretching session in the gym rounded off the day. A little down time, and then dinner, and then back to bed for another 9 hour sleep. I don't think I would have got through the week on any less sleep - it's such an important part of a big training week.


Day 4 - Thursday

Thursday featured a lighter swim and drills set for which I was very grateful. I still ended the session drained, but hopefully with enough in the tank for today's big ride. We were due to tackle the demanding Bedar climb, 10km long!

Cycling about an hour to the base of the climb, we were to make our own way up at whatever pace we felt comfortable. I picked a nice low gear early on and started spinning my legs. The foothills went on for a good while, gradually gaining height, and then the switchbacks came. It looked like an Alpine Tour de France stage, amazing flat roads, switchbacks, and climbing on and on and on... The faster cycling group had taken a more circuitous route to the mountain and started behind us. They soon caught up though, I was seriously impressed at the pace Justin, Brendan, and the other speedsters came past us at. To make sure I was under no illusions as to my climbing abilities there was a cycle team out on the hill too - doing repeats of the top 3-4km! They flew down at an astonishing pace, before climbing past me like I was going backwards (which on some of the tight steep turns I thought I was).

The TriLife’s trainee coach, Ashleigh, did a great job moving up and down the group making sure we were all OK, we were getting quite spread out so she must have worked really hard!

I reached the top feeling a great sense of achievement - an amazingly long and hot climb, by far the biggest I've ever tackled. The downhill on the other side didn't deliver as there was another long climb half way (not as long as the main one, but my poor legs were ruined!).

At the top

Returning to base I was totally drained now, there was a short brick run straight off the bike. In the morning we'd left some trainers in the back of the car, and Duncan and Liz were going to look after our bikes for us. I decided to try the Clif Double Expresso [sic] and Caffeine gel that I'd been keeping in reserve. It tasted lovely, very sweet and quite thick in texture unlike the runny sugar-fluid of some others.

The whole crew at the top of Bedar

Downed the gel in one, and I was off. Tried to take a steady pace around the off road route, oddly the fatigue from the bike left me quickly and I maintained a good pace round the 6km or so. The gel seemed to be doing its thing. I finished strongly (I must have done, there were comments that I looked like I could have just kept on running for miles!).

Taking a pause, half way down

Day 5 - Friday

Today brought a welcome day off from swimming, instead a slight lie in, big breakfast, and off for the longest ride of the week. We cycled down the coast as one group before split into two (after a pause to take in the stunning view). I was really feeling the efforts of the week and was pleased I'd been assigned to go with the shorter ride group.

Now that's what I call a road

We cycled back down to the coast to find somewhere nice for ice cream (high-fat, maybe not so low-carb, but with this level of exercise output it's not the end of the world).

Nutella crêpes - yum

We rode around three hours, and the rest came in after about five. There was an optional run session in the afternoon which I chose to complete. Minimum of 30 minutes, maximum of 60. The session was 1km repeats with 1 minute rest. The aim was to run at the pace of your next race. My next race is the Rotterdam Marathon where I was looking at a target of three hours and thirty minutes. Therefore my repeats needed to be at 4:58/km.

I started slightly too fast, and then found my pace. The repeats got harder and harder. My pace wasn't too bad, I finished strongly too, but it was blindingly clear that there's no way I could run that hard for 42.2 consecutive kilometres! I resolved to set a new target for Rotterdam when I got home, I just don't think I'm ready to knock out a 3:30!


Day 6 - Saturday

Penultimate day, and final swim session. The mission this morning was simple, a 400m time trial. Flat out. Get your race head on. We warmed up and then ready ourselves in our lanes. We'd split into heats, 6 swimming at once, 2 side by side in each lane. I was paired with my housemate, Claire  During the week I'd shown that I could keep up with her to start with, but didn't have the stamina or strength to stay with her over a full session, and I'd fade quickly. I didn't expect to beat her, and I had to be careful not to overstretch myself.

We set off, and I was side by side with Claire for the first 4 lengths. In retrospect this was not a smart move. During the 5th length I started to fill with lactic acid, my lungs and limbs burning with the effort. I'd gone off far too hard and was paying the price for it. During the second quarter I slowed significantly, before recovering into the second half. I'm not sure what time Claire got, but she was well ahead of me by the end!

I clocked 7:09, which on balance is a good time. I haven't swum for months, and now I've just ticked over 10km in a week! My previous best was around 6:30, so there's a way to go yet, but it's a good start, and a great benchmark to work from.

We had a break before "Magic Glutes" (a warmup/strength session with Mike focussing on the biggest muscles in the body, our gluteus maximus), and then a longer run. We had been assigned one, two, or three laps of a slightly longer off-road course, number of laps depending on what we're training for. I had three laps to do. The first was with strides for 30s every 5 minutes, and then the next two were "yo-yo". This meant 4 minutes very very easy, then 4 minutes at over target race pace - repeat until you run out of road! I put a lot of effort into this and it felt good to finish the session strong.

Pushing downhill on my 3rd lap

Time to hit a few glasses of red wine in the bar, feed well, and another 9 hours' sleep!


Day 7 - Sunday

A last bike ride was scheduled for today. After a crisis of confidence at the decision point, I decided to go with the larger group on the reverse of the Bedar climb we’d conquered on Thursday. 20km or so of gradual climbing, a steep up, brief respite, and then even more up right to the top. I’m so glad I did - it was certainly the right decision. As Andrea said, “I’d hate to get on the plane thinking ‘if only I’d have just put that extra effort in’”.

My legs were tired, but spinning well. We chewed through the foothills at a good pace. When we started on the main climb I fell off the back quite quickly. Thom got the other Claire, Andrea, and me working together - focusing on the back wheel of the person in front. “Let them do the work, let them pick the gear, let them pick the line - all you need to do is follow the wheel”. He was right, taking some of the decision-making pressure off and just following the wheel in front really helped. We took turns pulling the rest up as we felt strong, and being pulled up as we felt tired. It was a long climb. I learned a lot.

The very last kilometre was particularly hard - I really didn’t have a lot left in my legs. With 200m to go Thom (or was it Mike who was with us by now? It’s all a bit of a blur) got us to sprint for the summit. I was out of the saddle, thighs burning with every ounce of effort I had left. Andrea made 25m on me, and I finally reached the top bright red, dripping in sweat, and totally spent. Bloody brilliant!

A quick Clif bar, and we were on the descent. The 10km climb of Thursday went by much faster in the other direction. I’m not used to descending like this, so I took the corners cautiously.

Regrouping at the bottom to head off in search of ice-cream and home it was clear I’d used a lot up on the climb. We were clipping along at a fair pace and it was becoming progressively harder to stop gaps opening up in front of me - and as soon as there’s a gap, there’s wind, and you’ll fall further back. Approaching one rise before we got to the coast we were getting faster and faster, when the hill came I almost stopped - come on legs, you can do it! The thought of ice-cream (screw low-carb when you’re putting out this much effort, I want an ice-cream) pulled me up, and we soon rolled down to the coast and found a cafe.

Mrs on the front

The other group passed us when we were eating, so we hailed them and all rolled back to Desert Springs as one (all be it a little fragmented as those with any energy left enjoyed themselves riding off the front and having fun). It was all I could do to sit in the group and get pulled along! Mrs had plenty in the tank and played in the front group for a while.

I hardly ever drink lager these days - believe me, this pint was divine!

The very last session of the camp was a Yoga/stretch-down session. My poor battered muscles just about got me through, and we were done! Nothing to do now but clean up, relax in the sun, pack up our stuff, and hit the bar for the celebration dinner.

Mrs and I were so shattered we couldn't party for long (understatement) and ended up turning in really early. Party-poopers!


Day 8 - Monday

No training today, just up early and back to the airport in the bus. Sometimes I find a little internal sigh of relief when heading home. Maybe I miss London, or something about the trip hasn’t really lived up to my hopes and expectations. This time was different, I really could have stayed another week, though with a rest day before diving into the volume again! The coaches were all great, patient, attentive, instructive, and each in their own way appropriately firm when the situation required it. The other athletes were good fun - friendly, laid back, and with a range of experiences and stories. There wasn’t anyone I disliked or wouldn’t happily spend another week training with - remarkable!

My objective for the week was to rediscover my thirst and enjoyment for swimming and cycling - that was certainly achieved. Mrs and I have already decided, circumstances permitting, that we’ll be back next year.

Now that's what I call a good week of training

Stats from Training Peaks for the week

The cycling was wonderful, I’ve never flown down descents like that, or creaked (me, not my bike) up such long climbs. I’ve never ridden in such close formation, or followed a wheel up a hill as it’s all I can focus on. I need to love the hills - my A-races this year (Ironman 70.3 UK Wimbleball, and Ironman Wales) are both very hilly. I’m excited about getting out on my bike and chewing up some Kent and Surrey hills.

The swim sets were hard, I’ve never swum that far in the pool, I’ve never followed such a structured set, and I’ve certainly never swum over 10km in a week. And you know what? I loved it. I am really genuinely looking forward to getting in the pool at home. Thing is, I don’t know what to do when I get into it. Maybe I should give The TriLife a call and see about getting some coaching?

Bye bye Murcia airport, see you next year?

Excellent week, truly excellent. Thank you so much to the coaches Duncan, Liz, Mike, Thom, and Ashleigh. Bring on next year!

Race Report: Ironman 70.3 Zell am See-Kaprun

I’ve been looking forward to this weekend all year. When I injured myself towards the end of last year and took a lot longer to recover than I’d expected it became quickly clear that I wasn’t going to be able to compete at Ironman 70.3 UK this year (though I did go to support Mrs – the weather was terrible, and she didn’t have the best day). Rather than pull out all together and lose the cash I transferred my entry to Ironman 70.3 Zellam See-Kaprun. Mrs was already signed up, it’s her A-race for this year – but I hadn’t made the choice yet and was considering just going in a supporting capacity. So for the bargain transfer fee of €29 it was out with Wimbleball and in with Austria. And in what seems like no time at all, here we are!

And the award for "70.3 with the most place names on its official logo" goes to...

Bikes neatly (ish) packed into the rental boxes we get from Bicycle Box Hire, bags packed, ready to go. The first close call was checking the flight times the night before to work out what time we needed to get up. We’d remembered the times correctly, a most acceptable 11:10am, but for some reason thought we were going from Gatwick. We weren’t, it was Heathrow T1. Talking about a race for 6 months then realizing the night before that you were about to head to the wrong airport is a close call for sure.

We wanted to be as chilled as possible for the weekend, so set off in really good time for the airport. Two giant bike boxes plus hold bag plus hand luggage plus District Line commuting rush hour on the underground means we did not make any new friends on the train this morning.

On the Piccadilly Line, District Line was rammed with commuters - we were not popular

At Heathrow (we’re supposed to be at Heathrow, right?) Lufthansa check-in told us that although we had bike box spots reserved on the flight, they weren’t pad for so Mrs had to do a tactical strike at the Lufthansa desk to pay – and I think we’ll need to do the same on the return flight. Still, no stress, everything fine.

We were flying to Munich where we’d be met by someone from Nirvana Europe to drive us down to Zell am See. Neither of us can remember why we chose to travel this way, but it involves a 200km drive through Germany and into Austria. Should be pretty at least.

The flight was uneventful, and the “pizza snack” got our pre-race carb loading off to a good start – oh hang on, we don’t subscribe to that any more, whoops... Our hold luggage came out quickly, and we went to hang out by the “Bulky Baggage” belt for our bike boxes. And hang out we did, until after half an hour with no bikes Mrs went to the “Baggage Tracing” desk to enquire (incidentally, I continue to get progressively more annoyed at it being "Tracing" rather than "Tracking").

Bulky Baggage - or not, as it turned out

It turns out the bikes had never made it onto our plane! Lufthansa need to fly them out later on, but the guy who drives orphaned luggage to Austria has already left for the day, so we won’t get our bikes until the Saturday evening, and probably too late for transition. We hoped we could get special dispensation and rack Sunday morning.

We were met ground-side by the patiently waiting Lucas and his VW people shifter for the long drive down the autobahns and through the mountains to Zall am See. Apart from a stop at a service station (“Car says it needs more oil”) the journey was uneventful. I think we’d had enough worry for one day, but we stayed positive. The bikes would be here tomorrow. We hoped.

Home for the next few days

Arriving at the Hotel Neue Post we set off out to find some dinner. The town of Zell am See is small and the biggest surprise was the number of people form Middle Eastern countries. Lots of families with children, and most of the women in full hijab. Many of the shops and restaurants had signs and menus in Arabic so I think it's either got a very large Arabic population, or there are consistently a lot of visitors from that part of the world. I wonder if there's a similar population when Zell am See turns into a ski resort in the winter?

We found a shop with giant sketchers in the window

We ate well. Carb avoidance seems to have gone out of the window a bit, will need to take a look at that later - but this close to race day is not the time.

Saturday we went and registered. Ironman MC Paul Kaye advised us via twitter to find Vicky Habig, and make her aware of our situation. This we did, she noted our race numbers, and said if we couldn't check our bikes in today then we should do so on race day at 08:30am. A big weight off our minds, and a big thank you to Paul and Vicky.

Someone's beautiful bike, still with an Ironman 70.3 European Championships race number on it

Picked up my race number, cue lots of "not found" jokes

Paul Kaye welcoming us to Ironman 70.3 Zell am See-Kaprun

Compulsory race briefing followed, with Paul Kay working his magic. After some lunch we wandered down to check the layout of transition and for a look at the lake. It really was a beautiful place, we were excited to be racing the next day.

Zeller see (lake Zeller) on a wonderful sunny day

Entry into T1, blue bike bags will be on these racks, change tent in the distance

Mrs finding her bike racking spot (assuming they ever arrive!)

Red run bags will be here, running track and soft grass - perfect surfaces for transition, easy on the feet

In the afternoon I ran a mile, and then we went for a nap. We were apparently so tired that we had a full on sleep for 2.5 hours. We were woken by a call from the Lufthansa luggage delivery guy - our bikes were here!

Damn right you'd better "rush"...

It was by now 17:30 and to get to transition by 19:00 we'd need to assemble them in record time with no time to test them. This would not be a good plan, so we opted to build them up slowly and carefully making sure everything was perfect, and take them down in the morning. Again, we thanked the Ironman team for accommodating us - I'm sure at every race there are a few competitors who have bike delivery trouble, but none of that helps when it happens to you.

A startling transformation is about to happen...

All built and ready to roll - just two bottles and no nutrition this time

A final check after dinner, and we were ready for bed. I was following my success in Thames Turbo #4 earlier in the week and packing light for transition. A final tyre pressure check, and we were done.

My lightest transition bags yet - no need for anything extra

Suddenly, Mrs heard a sound - like a stream of running water. "What's that?" she asked. We looked out of the window, but with horror realised the sound was in the room - her back tyre was slowly deflating! It had spontaneously split its inner tube around the valve seal! Annoying to have to change the tube when we were about to turn in for the night - but thankfully it happened now and not in the morning, or while we were out in the swim! Coming back to T1 to find a flat tyre must really suck.

Another beautiful sunny day in- wait a minute, oh no hang on, it's lashing it down!

Race day morning and we packed up and headed down to transition. Racking up on the morning was no problem, and a few other people clearly were in the same position.

Photos taken with bike and athlete for security, I like this - they check them when you leave at the end

Say "käse"!

Shoes, bottles, toolkit, bike - see you in an hour or so!

We milled around the start area, it was very busy - really very very busy. I got a bit stressed about where to go and almost cocked up the entry to the water - for a while I was convinced I hadn't crossed the timing mat (and as Paul says, "No chip time, no world champs!"). Not the right kind of pre-race nerves.

It got a lot busier than this before the start, very difficult to move around and know where to go

I was in wave 1 and setting off at the civilised hour of 10:00am. Much better than the usual 7am start nonsense! As a result my wave got a nice long warm-up. Given my previous swim-freakouts I was determined to get a good warmup in the water. I filled my wetsuit up and flushed some water through to cool my body a bit, dipped my face in, had a float, then a bit of a swim, then practiced a few fast starts - all the things you're supposed to do. I was calm, it felt good. We bobbed around a bit longer and after some respectful silence for the Austrian national anthem - BANG! We were off!

• The Swim

I'd love to see 100m splits - I reckon I started at 2:30/100m and finished at 1:50/100m

For the deep-water start I'd positioned myself on the far right, at the front. My plan was to swim the first 50-100m hard and then relax. I could drift out to the right for clear water if I needed - there should be little to no traffic there and no need to stress.

The swim course was very straight forward with a nice long starting stretch

My start was good and strong, I pulled away from the guys around me and tried to settle in to my stroke.

But then came the old feeling - It's now happened so many times I can feel it start and there's nothing I can do about it. My arms begin to feel heavy, they drain of energy, I can barely turn them over - my head won't stay in the water, I start to breathe at the wrong time and fight for breath - my legs drop, forward motion becomes impossible and I end up treading water as my heart rate goes through the roof.

At the same time a monumental wave of negativity flushes over me - what's the point? Why do I keep doing this to myself? I may as well just stop now - where's the nearest bloke in a kayak I can give up at? Not quite total panic, but real fright - no fun when you can't reach the bottom (don't even start thinking about how deep the water is) and you can see the entire rest of the field swimming past and off into the distance.

Also, I know the feeling passes. Even at Ironman Wales where I thought I was going to die (only a minor exaggeration!) I managed to get a grip in the end. Slowly my strength returns, and after one or two failed attempts I start to swim again. Then over the next ten minutes or so I gradually find my strength, form, and confidence. This is the sucky bit now because I am much faster than those I catch up to, and I'm not experienced enough to pick my way through them and end up getting boxed in.

This time no boxing in - the course is almost a kilometre straight out to the first buoy, an acute left turn, then round another buoy and back to the start area. The long outward stretch meant we all spread out so I could get up to speed again without getting stuck.

By the time I rounded the buoy I was swimming confidently. By the time I rounded the second, I was catching well and pulling hard to make good progress through my wave. The rest of the swim was uneventful.

Ironically, probably the happiest I've ever looked coming out of a swim!

I need to get over this panic at the start. The only way I'll do it is to get more open water experience. I need to get in the water more, swim with people more, get confident and capable. I've only worn my wetsuit twice this year, both times in a race, and both times I freaked out hard at the start. I just hope I can maintain my cool next week in Valencia...

• Transition 1 (Swim to Bike) 5:31

T1 was a breeze - certainly the key is to have as little as you can get away with in your transition bag. In mine this time just my helmet, race belt and number, and glasses. Transition was on grass and a properly surfaced running track so running about in bare feet (even my soft girly bare feet) wasn't a problem.

Grabbed the bike (shoes clipped in, held in place with elastic bands) and ran out to bike mount. By now the earlier threat of rain was coming good and it was lashing it down.

• The Bike

Averaged over 40km/h in two sections, need to be holding that over the full distance really

My feet went in easily and I reached to pull the straps up - someone shouted something at me in a language I don't speak, oops I was being English and sitting on the left of the road while I got up to speed, I should be on the right, this is the mainland remember!

Getting settled in the weather continued to worsen. I gave up on my glasses after 20 minutes and put them in my pocket, they were covered in water and wouldn't un-steam. I was breathing hard and wheezing quite badly. I'd got a wheeze on the run at Thames Turbo on Monday, but not normally on the bike. The ground was made of puddles and lakes, the road surface was very good for the most part but it was hard to see where the slippery metal manhole covers were (and there were hundreds of the buggers).

Check out the shark-fin of spray I'm throwing up from the back wheel

I found it very hard to settle. I was overly-cautious round corners which means you lock up and go rigid, ironically making it much more likely that you have an incident as you end up fighting the bike and cornering poorly. A few wobbles, particularly on a slippery wooden bridge, but I managed to keep the right way up.

The bike course is two laps with a short connector to transition. I can see how the course could be really very fast and I'm not surprised at all that those with local knowledge got blistering times. I was not feeling confident and didn't perform to my ability today. My focus became making it to the end safely.

Two laps in the valley, this would be a wonderful ride on a nice sunny day

Squinting into the rain was making my eyes tired, particularly when everyone that overtook me covered me with their shark-fin of spray when they pulled in front of me. I was overtaken so much that after 20km or so I wondered if there was actually anyone in the race still behind me. Being the first wave off meant I was being caught quickly by the fast guys in the following waves and they weren't taking any prisoners.

I was finding it hard to breathe properly. Each exhalation was accompanied by a deep rasping. When I have an asthma attack like this it's not enough to make me stop all together but it certainly impacts power and efficiency. It was certainly the limiting factor over the first loop.

All in all a depressing ride. I played games like "don't look at your watch until you think you've done another 5km" and "try not to crap yourself on the cobbles" but my mind was not on racing. I didn't feel like I was in a race, and I wasn't pushing like I had something to achieve. At about 70km the leading female age-grouper overtook me, she had started in a wave 25 minutes behind me. I felt like I was losing time to everyone on the course.

My breathing cleared considerably in the first half of the second loop. The air temperature warmed up a bit and although I was never properly cold on the bike, it certainly became more comfortable. I had an odd surge of strength going through Zell am See town for the second time and cranked up the power, I started reeling people in and flying past them. I held that until about 85km when I relaxed and just cruised in to the finish. The speed difference was obvious over that section and overtaking was easy, it was a clear message that I just hadn't been trying.

It's not all bad though, I heard two bike crashes happen behind me so at least I got to the end in one piece! I slipped my feet out of my shoes in order to make a quick dismount (might as well practice these things when you get the chance) and rolled into T2.

• Transition 2 (Bike to Run) 6:08

T2 greeted me with a lovely surprise. Mrs' Auntie Nuala had travelled down from where she lives in Chiemsee in Germany to support us. I didn't expect to see her until the end so it was a lovely surprise to see her just past the dismount line. It's amazing what a little support can do for you, and my spirits were lifted. Thank you, Nuala!

I had a few pumps on my inhaler in T2 to clear out the last of my wheezing and took it with me in my pocket. I had not eaten on the bike at all (on purpose) and only drunk water with a High5 Zero salt tablet in it (for flavour as much as the salts). I knew I wouldn't be able to run hard without a little top up, so I packed four High5 Energygel Plus caffeine gels in my run bag. Took one straight away and carried three to take at 30-minute intervals on the run.

• The Run

Very hard work indeed

The run course was a couple of km round the lake by the swim course to the town, and then three laps of the town including a longer out and back section down by the lake. I'd learned from Ironman UK to be careful on what is counted as a lap - I was mentally beaten up there when I realised my first "lap" of the course wasn't a lap it was just "getting to the start of where laps were counted from". I was mentally prepared for three long up/down hills and had to do four. I make a point now of checking how many circuits I'm really doing. As there was a lap of the town before getting the lap-counting bands, I knew I was to do four laps of the town, and three out and back sections. No problem, mentally ready for that.

A run into the centre, then three loops including a longer out and back section

I've been building running up very slowly, only really up to 5km with a couple of 10km (including a very slow 10km at the London Triathlon a few weeks ago). I wasn't sure how I'd hold up over the 21.1km of a half marathon, but I was ready to find out. I made a slight error immediately - my lightweight transition plan hadn't given me any socks to wear, or a towel. My feet were soaked from the bike (also sockless) and there wasn't much talc in my run shoes. A recipe for blisters!

I set off at a good pace. My plan was simple, trot along for 15km and then see if there was anything left. My ironman runs in the past have been paced poorly with a big drop off at the end. I wanted to avoid that if I could here. My first km was around 5:30, probably a bit fast - given my current fitness I should be aiming for about 6:00/km.

Looking surprisingly sprightly

I felt a lot like I did on the bike as person after person overtook me. My run was consistently paced, but so much slower than most of the rest of the field. Then at around 6km I felt a stone in my shoe - I slipped my shoe off to shake it out, but it wasn't a stone, it was a rubbing bit of material wearing away at the wet skin on the knuckle of my little toe. Ouch. A blister, as predicted. There was a little red patch on the shoe where it was bleeding slightly. There's nothing I can do about it, so I just elected not to look down again, pretend it wasn't happening and deal with it later.

The next interruption was just a km or so later when my left knee started to hurt in an all too familiar way. I have become very tuned in to the type and location of sensation when I'm aggravating my ITB condition and this was certainly it. What to do? The obvious thing is to stop. The sensible thing is to stop. Anyone I'd have asked at the time who has had to put up with me complaining about my knee would have advised me to stop. So I carried on.

The discomfort built over the next few kilometres and then levelled out when I was about half way through the run. I hadn't felt the buckling feeling that I got when I hurt it last year, and I wasn't running hard or fast. I could focus on keeping my cadence high and form good. All credit to the guys at Athletic Edge, I've never found it so easy to keep my posture good when running fatigued, my core is clearly tougher than it was a few months ago - I can't wait to see what a full winter of training there will bring me.

It may have felt like my pace didn't drop off - but the GPS doesn't lie, it did

I decided that if my knee did buckle, I'd stop immediately. Some discomfort is OK, but injuring myself properly again is not. I'd go round the bend if I had to stop again now, having only just got back into the swing of things. Thankfully it didn't get any worse, I was able to maintain good form. My toe continued to hurt, but I'd already decided to ignore that so just blocked it out.

At about 17km I decided to see if I had anything left to give. I was pleased my km times came down from about 6:40 to 6:10, there was a little something left, even if not much. You can see the effort in the speed picture above, just to the left of the 1:40:00 marker.

Heart rate was managed well - I wasn't fatigued internally otherwise it would have dropped off

I saw Mrs on the first lap, and then again on the second - she'd run a lap plus a short out and back section in the time I'd run a lap. When I saw her on lap 3 we passed on the long out and back section - she'd gained on me again! Her wave started 25 minutes behind me, and she was still on the same run lap as I was! She was clearly having an amazing race, and I'd need to work hard if I was going to finish faster than her.

I pulled myself together and pushed the last couple of km as best I could. Running up the short sharp hill for the last time it was a joy to turn left and go down the final 100m to the finish rather than right for another lap. I was pleased (although I don't look it!) to get this race finished. It wasn't fun, it took some mental toughness to push through, but I got there. From zero to 70.3 finisher in 3 months. Can't be too unhappy about that.

Got there in the end! I really need to work on my finish line celebration face!

The finish area was a bit chaotic. I stumbled around a bit and tried to get some ice for my knee. "No ice" I was told by the first aid staff who were waiting on hand, "Move, you're in the way", they added. I was ejected into a narrow passageway that was absolutely rammed full of disoriented athletes and spectators. The medical team at the UK races are head and shoulders above this in terms of attentiveness and concern.

I grabbed a word with Auntie Nuala who had made her way down to the finish, and then went to get my complementary alcohol-free beer.

My final times and position

Overall I was faster than my first 70.3 by 31:57 (6:15:08 at Ironman 70.3 UK, Wimbleball last year) but slower than my PB from Ironman 70.3 Ireland, Galway, where I hit 5:22:35. I think to be just 20 minutes down on my PB in such conditions is not a bad performance though. On a good day and with some better fitness, I really think I can make a good shot at hitting 5 hours. Let's see what next year brings.

Bling!

Finishers had to make their way through the expo and into the main building to get their finishers' tee-shirts and food. It was completely chocked full of people - very stressful for those who finished just a few minutes ago. There were quite a few bewildered people around in silver foil blankets looking for people. The queue for the white "streetwear" bags (the clothes you take off at the start and pick up again at the end) were immense, and I wanted to see Mrs finish, so I grabbed my t-shirt for warmth and went back down to the finish.

It was hard to get through all the people, particularly with a hurting knee. This was the most overcrowded and chaotic finishing area of any of the races I've done. I met back up with Auntie Nuala and we waited for Mrs. She came over the line looking like she'd given it everything and maybe even a little bit more.

Our "thank God it's over" faces

We went back to the building together to pick up our bags and get some food. The finishers' food was good, and we talked through our respective races over some more alcohol-free beers and some giant bready pretzels.

Mrs had had an amazing race - faster than me in the swim and on the run, and only a couple of minutes behind on the bike. Overall she beat me by 40 seconds. An amazing day for her, though not without its fair share of challenges to overcome - her shoe also showed signs of a blister and she'd had a tough day mentally. Her race report is here.

We started out yellow-shoes buddies, and no we're bleeding-blister buddies!

We picked our kit up from transition and after a quick shower headed back to the main building for the awards ceremony and roll down. I had finished a long way down my age group, but Mrs had pulled out an amazing 12th place in her age group. It's unlikely the roll down would get to her, but if you're not there, you'll never know.

Paul did a great job as ever keeping us entertained at the awards and roll down

In summary - a tough day, my hardest race yet I think, even including the full distance Ironman events at Ironman UK and Ironman Wales last year (how on earth did I ever go twice as far as I did today?!). It was marred by the weather and the finishing area. I can see how the bike course really could be ballistic in the dry and if you knew where you were going. I'll come back again one day, maybe, but not next year.

The winning pros: Eimear Mullen (4:14:16) and Gavin Noble (3:50:24), both from Ireland

Giving out slots for next years Ironman 70.3 World Championship in Mont Tremblant, Canada

Our journey back home was pleasingly uneventful. Steve from Nirvana Europe dropped us off back at Munich airport in good time for our flight. The bike boxes made it back to London with us, and nothing got lost or broken.

Next up, Valencia next weekend providing my knee recovers well enough - if it doesn't, I'll go anyway to offer my cheering and alcohol-free(-free) consumption skills :)