The Dambuster! My first olympic distance triathlon

Dambuster ... Where to start?! So many bits to it...

Pre-Tri

I booked the Friday off so I could get ready at a leisurely pace. I felt quite nervous when I woke up. In hindsight, it appears this was more about possibly forgetting something vital rather than nerves about the event itself. I packed up and hit the road. When I got to Rutland Water, I was feeling good. The place itself is beautiful you can’t help but feel really chilled out there. I impressed myself putting two tents up and got chatting to my neighbours, a couple from Essex. Cue much reminiscing about past races, conversations about strengths and weaknesses and expectations for the race. I never got their names, but the guy was talking about them adjusting the swim course because of the wind when he did the Vitruvian in the same place a couple of years before. He said once you got out of the lagoon it was surprising what impact the wind had on the water. I didn’t pay this much heed at the time. I went for a mooch down to registration and looked at the swim course which was already marked out. The first buoy looked miles away. So did the distance from the first to second buoys. I told myself I had already swum 2km, and no matter how far it looked this was only 1.5.

Camping was rubbish! The rain that had been forecast turned up in the middle of the night. This was preferable to when I was putting the tents up, but still, it was really loud and I was struggling to sleep as it was so I woke up in a foul mood. I ate a banana and a high 5 energy bar and walked my bike down to transition. I set up gradually, having time to get most of my camping stuff back in the car. The early start is purely to get some proper breakfast in plenty of time to avoid indigestion in the race. I know from experience that I need to eat a couple of hours in advance or it will hurt. This seems to be true for other people too. I spent the rest of the time hanging out on the beach or running for a last minute wee (I had six loo visits before the start!) which got annoying once I’d got my wetsuit on. On the morning itself, I felt pretty excited and eager to have a go!

Swim

During the race brief, there was an announcement that the swim had been adjusted to reduce the amount of time in the main lake. This had reduced the swim to 1400m instead of 1500m. The swim was a beach start, as opposed to the deep water start at Rother Valley, so that was a new experience. “Beach” was a pretty generous description. “Stony as chuff” would have been my preferred choice. It was an ”ooo ahh bugger” tentative getting in process. We had a few minutes to get wet and cold before the wave started before we were told to only be in “ankle deep” which clearly loosely meant “knee deep”. I stayed to one side, not wanting to get caught up in the washing machine that is a group start, and when the start blower went I gingerly took a couple of steps and then threw myself as far forward as I could. I got going, the main group heading off and leaving me behind with a couple of slower people (fine by me. Preferable to getting booted in the face). All of a sudden, I felt I was rocking side to side. Imagine laying on your front, and rocking from left to right. We had come past the mini-headland and were into the main lake. The impact of the wind was completely unexpected. I had no frame of reference for it. It was worse than the uniform, slower feeling of waves in the sea. It was all over the shop! I had to stop for a second to let it register. Luckily, in swimming, I am ambidextrous! I resolved to breath to my left only, as the choppiness was hitting from the right and trying to breath that side could end up still feeling like your face was underwater as the ’wave’ washed over your head and left you with a mouth full of water. Weirdly, stopping never entered my mind. I was thrown and confused, but it was just something to deal with, though when I spoke to my friend and my Essex neighbour after the race, they both said their first thought had been to bail after hitting the choppy water, so I felt quite chuffed about how I had handled it. Anyway, so there I am, breathing to my left until hitting the first buoy. The other thing was, waves push you, so I was having to correct constantly to make sure I was going to go around the first buoy correctly. It felt like a proper battle and was very tiring. After the first buoy, you start coming back on yourself, so of course I began to breath to my right, still keeping my face away from the choppiness and being glad that I would be out of it sooner rather than later. It really did throw you off your stroke! I was sighting as best I could and heading in the right general direction, but because I was breathing to my right had no idea what was going on to my left. One of the safety guys in a canoe said to me that I needed to be more to the left so, risking a face full of water, I finally looked in that direction. Lo and behold, a line of people who are much better a sighting than me, and much faster at swimming, from the wave starting after mine, were filing past! I had been pushed off course again, quite severely, and had probably done about 50m on top of what I should have. I soldiered on, sighting the next big orange buoy. It didn’t seem too far away. The water got calmer again, when suddenly I was caught up in a second group of people from the wave behind me, and no matter which side I breathed I was facing body parts churning up the water. I faltered for a second, choosing to let them get ahead a little, then carried on, realising that the buoy I thought was the turning point actually wasn’t, and there was more to go before turning back towards the beach. I thought it was probably a good thing that this had happened, because the alternative was recognising just how far it was from the first to the second buoys which could have been disheartening. Finally, after what felt like forever, I was coming out of the swim. As much as I was kicking like hell to get the blood flowing, I still felt that weird drunken feeling that changing blood pressure brings. This was aggravated by the stones on exit again. Essex neighbour had discussed being really disorientated after the swim, but I only realised what he meant when I was already out on the bike. I’d totally forgotten to put my calf compressors on!

Bike

The bike was good overall! For a change. All that work I’ve been trying to put in has been paying off. It was a long route around the whole of Rutland Water. Within five minutes of setting off I realised I needed the loo! I wasted time pulling off on a hill to dive in some bushes (potentially a penalty!) before realising they were too nettley! Then diving off again to sort myself out. Then I plugged away. The downhills didn’t phase me like they do in practice. I milked them for all they were worth! I started with three gels on my bike but only managed to have one, the other two disappearing somewhere along the way (more potential penalties) so more secure taping to my bike next time. In spite of this, I never felt completely knackered. I felt able to plug away. I felt I was managing the gears better than I have before. I’ve always been able to get up bonkers hills without bailing and walking, but the whole thing had a smoothness too it which felt a lot better. I was worried about cramping calves, but they were fine. The only twinginess I got was the odd feeling in the backs of my thighs, which I felt was the result of gradually adapting how I cycle. There were a few people pulled over with flats, and several ambulances/police went past with sirens going. When I was on the home stretch (having done a dummy run a few weeks earlier, which I thoroughly recommend for any course) I felt good, knowing I had the legs for the run. I knew I was running low on energy, but I also knew I could plod indefinitely if need be.

Run

The run was a straightforward out and back partway round the lake. I hit T2 and really felt like just sitting and taking 5! I got my trainers on and plodded out. It always feels a bit rubbish seeing other people packing up just as you head out on the run! You can hear the announcer on the loudspeaker when you are around the finish line and I could have sworn I heard them saying the time was three hours fifteen, which meant I was screwed for my 4 hour deadline, as I knew the run would be at least an hour. I sucked it up and set off. Just after one km I saw my friend Jonny heading back in and gave him a high five in passing. This was a boost as I had calculated that he would have finished before I got out on the run. I was already messing about with motivating numbers in my head... When I hit the next marker, I’ll be 1/5^th of the way through, just after that, I’ll be ¼ of the way through etc. At 2km I had a mental word with my feet. They were feeling quite hot, and I told them that whether they blistered or not, I was running on them anyway, so they could just shut up. I distracted myself by trying to breath out a mild/moderate stitch that was persisting (and did throughout the run). The dam crossing was rubbish, as it was exposed and came with a gusting side wind, so it got you on the way over, and on the way back. I managed to take in some scenery (I can’t say enough how totally beautiful it is). At about 4km I realised I could look across the lake to the finish, and it seemed a lot further back round than 5km, but reflected it didn’t feel like it had taken that long to get here, and it wasn’t going to make any difference to how I was going to deal with it. The turning point came with a feeling of elation, as they usually do on runs like that: “I’ve broken it’s back”, “I’m on the home straight” etc. Strangely, at 6km, I suddenly was hungrier than ever before! If the cutest kid in the world was eating his favourite sweets with relish I would happily have stolen them at that point! That went within a couple of minutes. I made my way back and down towards the finish. When I saw it, I couldn’t help but smile.  One of the marshalls who had been filming all day was videoing and shouted “sprint finish?!” Well I couldn’t argue with that, so I got a spurt on for the last bit. The tannoy guy was announcing finishers names and as he gave me a shout I waved my arms and crossed the line. He clearly liked that, and asked if I was going to take a bow, which I did. I immediately felt nauseous, to the point of wondering if I was actually going to be sick, but the lovely ladies at the finish sat me down and it passed. My friend came and gave me a big hug. I had a couple of occasions shortly after finishing where I nearly welled up as it was quite overwhelming. Ultimately, I felt awesome! I was so chuffed with the time as well. I came in the last handful of people, but I did it!

Now for some serious training for the Vitruvian!