Category: Training

My final taper week is almost done. I had my last open water swim on Tuesday evening at Stanton Lakes. It was the first time I’d swum there. Nice little venue, 500m lap with some good duck dodging between the buoys. I only did a 30 minute set, pretty steady swimming with a few 1 minute bursts just to keep the arms fresh.

On Tuesday I did a 45 minute steady run whilst I was down in Bracknell for work. It was quite a warm day, so it was good to get a run in slightly higher temperatures. You never know what might be coming on race day. The weather in Bolton for Sunday looks like sunny with clouds, around 18 degrees. That would be ideal. I’m sure the forecast will change before then but I’m hoping it doesn’t change much. No wind or rain would suit me down to the ground. However, as weather forecasts are about as reliable as a chocolate kettle I’m not going to put too much faith in it.

Thursday was a rest day and then this morning I went for my last spin on the bike to check everything was working ok. I went out for 50 minutes and did a few 5 minute efforts above race pace. No dramas, so I think I’m pretty much there. Just need to organise and pack everything today before heading to the event tomorrow morning to register and get sorted. I also need to bake my superfood cake. I’m hoping I make a better fist of it this time than I did for The Outlaw Half. It was a soggy mess.

2 days to go…

Another week done. The mileage continued to creep up. Tuesday was a seven mile run. I was staying overnight in Bracknell for a work event. The hotel I was staying in was very close to Bracknell Forest so I decided to head out there early in the morning. It’s always nice to go somewhere different as you think less about the running when you don’t know exactly where you are.

I followed a trail that ran past Go Ape and did a right hand loop through the woods. It was really nice and calm. I only saw a couple of other people. On the trail back to the hotel the way was blocked by a crane moving logs. I couldn’t really see any sensible route around it so I decided to run by the side of it. Bad idea. I thought the crane was moving the logs to the rig so I opted for the the left hand side. Just as I was going past the logs appeared over my head. The bloke operating the crane clearly hadn’t seen me and obviously wasn’t impressed by my decision. He beeped at me and presumably swore as I ran off. I hadn’t planned on getting decapitated that morning anyway.

Wednesday was an hour interval ride before work with 4 five minute harder bursts, followed by a 10 minute run off the bike. It felt good. Thursday was a swimming session at the University pool dodging other swimmers. It does my head in when people don’t follow pool etiquette. One of my fellow lane swimmers decided to push off in front of me as I was coming in to turn. Not a problem if they are faster, bit of an issue if they’re not. He wasn’t. Cue lots of underwater swearing.

Friday was supposed to be an 18 mile run, but I couldn’t fit in the time as I had an early work start. So I did a half marathon instead. I took the running belt with me this time, probably looked a bit suspect but was much better for carrying my truckload of drinks and food. I was pleased with the run. My legs felt good and I didn’t flag, so the nutrition worked.

Saturday was a rest day in the sun with my family, which was great. British heat waves are a rare commodity so of course we got the paddling pool out and had a water fight. Quality.

Sunday was my long bike ride. Due to it being Fathers Day I got up mega early, 4am (yep, I know. Ridiculous). I had to get a six hour ride in and didn’t want to knacker up my day with my daughters, so 4am it was. I’m glad I did. This time I didn’t have a hangover or a dodgy stomach from a curry like the previous two weekends. The ride went really well. I was stacked up with food (obviously), and I managed to maintain the pace. I clocked up my first 100 miles since the Rutland Sportive. I needed that mental boost to get that under my belt. Strava clocked me at 99 miles but Garmin definitely said 100. Honest.

The rest of the day was spent stuffing my face and enjoying the sun with my daughters. Result. Bring on next week.

‘First post race run…behave legs’

It’s just over a week since Outlaw Half. Recovery week is over, and there’s 7 weeks to go to Ironman UK, Bolton.

This time last week my legs were in bits, absolute tatters. As soon as I’d completed the run I knew my legs hated me. The first set of steps I encountered just after the exit of the race were designed by Dr Evil. I had to go down them to meet my friends and family. It felt like my calves were getting poked with red hot pokers and my quads were getting smashed with a mallet. Luckily the were only five steps to navigate this time but Dr Evil must have been cackling somewhere.

When I got to the spectator area at the finish line where everyone was, there was a whole new definition of pain. Dr Evil had obviously earned a professorship and decided to make steps about two feet high as a homage to some kind of medieval torturer. I must have looked like I’d had metal rods inserted in to both legs as I hobbled down them, I was a mess. Nothing that a bucket load of sausage rolls, chocolate, sweets and cans of coke couldn’t sort out. Well, not strictly true. A professional massage and painkillers may have worked better, but stuffing my face with junk food was much more fun.

I slept like a log that night. Getting out of bed the next morning though was the next major challenge. My legs had decided to take the day off. I can’t blame them, I should have done the same thing. They really weren’t very happy when I got them back on my bike for a ‘recovery ride’. I’m sure this is meant to be a good thing but it wasn’t pleasant. Thirty minutes later they’d officially gone on strike.

They didn’t come back until Thursday, and even then they were not happy with the deal I’d made with them to get them back to work. I’d promised them no runs were on the week’s programme, and the open water swim on Wednesday was arms only. Easy bike rides were the only acceptable leg option.

By Sunday’s longish ride of two and a half hours I was back to normal. It actually felt good to be back in the saddle. It was also a major relief that my legs felt relatively fresh when I finally got my first post race run out of the way this morning.

Maybe my legs will let me get through the next seven weeks. Bring on the long stuff.

One day to Outlaw Half. This is my next big test event before Ironman, Bolton. I’ve done a few half distance races before so this isn’t unknown territory but after all the training I’ve put in this should be a step up in performance. My fastest time so far is 5 hours and 33 minutes at The Full Boar, Market Bosworth. I want to beat that if I can.

I’m pretty confident about the swim, this is my best discipline after all. Something around 30 minutes would be good. My main focus though is to run well off the bike. My personal best half marathon time is 1 hour and 30 minutes, but I’ve not got close to that in my three 70.3 events to date. I’ve always got off the bike with my legs in bits, trying my best to stave off cramp. I’ve been around the 2 hour mark, which is extremely frustrating. Trying to keep my legs fresh is priority number one.

I’ve had a good taper week. After the open water swim on Monday I did a steady 11km on Tuesday followed by a rest day. Thursday was a gentle ride to work and back followed by a low intensity hour long pool swim session. Friday morning was a steady 30 minute run with 7×10 second bursts above 5k pace in the middle. Today was an easy ride out to check the bike out before tomorrow’s race. It was a good job I did as I had some mechanical issues with my rear wheel, but that’s all sorted now.

I made my race cake again today which I trialled during the Rutland Sportive. This is my ‘Superfood Special’ which I’ve blatantly stolen from a book I recently read on holiday by Vassos Alexander (Radio 2 sports journalist on the Chris Evans breakfast show). It’s packed with bananas, eggs, oats, avocado, blueberries and peanut butter. I know it sounds disgusting but it’s not bad. To be fair I had to add cocoa powder to make it more tolerable, I’ve definitely had worse energy foods. It’s my magic ingredient to keep me fuelled up. It worked on the Sportive so I’m banking on it doing the same this time round. Fingers crossed.

I’d like to say I’d been resting up aside from everything above but with three daughters that was never going to happen. The bag is packed, the bike is in the car…I’m good to go. Hopefully I’ll get some sleep before my 3.30 am alarm call. Let’s do this.

I dusted the wetsuit off today for a dunk in a lake ahead of Outlaw Half. Three laps of the Six Hills lake at RaceHub in Nottingham was on the training schedule. It wasn’t the warmest swim I’ve ever had but it definitely wasn’t the coldest. At 14 degrees I only had temporary ice cream head this time. It was actually nice to get out in open water again. Made a change from going up and down a swimming pool, and it’s a great venue.

Swimming is the first sport I really got involved with. My parents wanted me to be able to swim from an early age, so my brother and I were enrolled in swimming lessons from the age of four. I think this was something that they hadn’t had the opportunity to have when they were growing up. I know my Dad learnt to swim in a small lake near where he grew up in Canwell; a hamlet in Staffordshire. He told us about going there with friends during the summer and getting in to trouble with my grandparents for turning up to dinner late and soaking. On holidays he was always going for an extended swim whenever we went to the seaside. He would swim out to a buoy or other landmark, mainly doing breaststroke and we would watch on from the beach.

It has to be said that I wasn’t particularly a natural in the water when I first started. I was pretty nervous and didn’t cope very well with the cold. I had to be coaxed to venture further out than the shallow end by our swimming coach at weekly lessons in the swimming baths closest to where we lived in Stonnall. She was pretty strict though, so I was encouraged to overcome whatever reservations I had by ‘getting on with it’.

Fear of deep water continued for a while. I would often swim right next to the wall to ensure I could grab on if I felt the need to. Having helped my daughters learn to swim, I understand that this is a more than normal part of learning to swim. One friend of the family was a swimming coach at our local club in Lichfield and he was particularly keen to get me to overcome my fear. He came up with various tactics to get me to dive in at the deep end, from boosting my confidence with positive words to promising me a Mars bar if I took the plunge. This continued for a few weeks until he ran out of patience and threw me in! I’m not sure this is in the handbook for developing swimming confidence, but it seemed to work in my case. I think I sank down in surprise before bobbing up and grinning like an idiot. Mars bar won.

My first proper swimming club was in Cannock, which used a 33 1/3 metre pool which, for a 7 year old was a pretty daunting distance. The pool wasn’t the warmest so getting going was pretty important. I started to go regularly and soon got used to being part of a club environment and definitely felt at home there. For reasons I can’t remember we made the transition to Lichfield swimming club after maybe a year.

Lichfield swimming club soon became my primary social environment as I started to make friends. From starting with widths and then progressing to swimming lengths I soon moved in to the main swimming sessions, thanks mainly to a number of great coaches and the head coach. She was also from the ‘school of strict’ but also had a great manner for enabling children to progress. Everyone had respect for her. She had a good mix of fun and training etiquette. She also knew how to get your attention if she needed to. It wasn’t a good idea to get on the wrong side of her, but I liked her a lot.

After a while I was invited to take part in my first swimming gala, which was quite a big deal at the time. I think my brother, Dave, had taken part in quite a few already so this wasn’t a new thing for the family but was big for me. The gala was in Mold, near Chester, so it was a proper journey for an away meet (something I became more than accustomed to most Saturdays).

My first experience of competitive swimming was as part of a relay. I had been picked to swim backstroke in a medley, which meant I would be the first to go. All started well until I suddenly became very aware that I was in a big pool I wasn’t familiar with, being watched by a lot of people I didn’t know. Panic soon set in and I ‘got the fear’. Feeling completely out of my depth, I grabbed hold of the lane rope and started crying my eyes out. My coach came to the rescue with an extendable pole that I could grab on to, and I was hoiked out of the pool. My mum’s pride in seeing her youngest son compete for the first time soon turned to acute embarrassment as all the other parents around her started exclaiming and saying how awful it was that such a young child had been put in that position. I think my mother did her best to shrink in to her seat and hide. I disappeared in to the changing rooms feeling mortally embarrassed that I had let everyone down. My coach of course consoled me and told me it was ok and everything would be fine next time.

I’m sure that experience was some kind of defining moment for me. There was no way I was going to let that happen again, and I’m pretty sure my mum wanted to avoid it too. After that I became a regular competitive club swimmer.

It’s getting close. I’m in to month 7 of my Ironman training programme and my next big milestone is competing in the Outlaw Half next Sunday, 21st May 2017, in Nottingham.

A bit about me. I’m 5’11” tall (always gutted I didn’t make 6 feet), weigh 70kg and at 42 years old I’m probably past my best for competing. I’ve found out from trying various sports over the years that my strengths and interest lie in endurance events. I tend to get the most out of these on a personal level, having achieved something challenging. That’s not to say that I don’t get a lot of personal satisfaction out of being part of a team but I’ve found the harder the physical exertion involved, the more I like it. Which is why it was kind of inevitable that I would end up trying to complete an Ironman.

I’d been thinking about entering a full distance event for years but had convinced myself I wouldn’t be able to manage it. I’ve done several half distance races over the past few years and really enjoyed them, but the longer distance scared me to death. I think it stems from my one and only experience of competing in a marathon. It was in London in 2001 where I not only hit the wall, I smashed right in to it and bounced off. I bonked, big time. I experienced cramp in virtually every part of my body and went to a very bad place physically and mentally. Best laid plans and all that.

My thinking changed when a few people I know, including my brother-in-law, successfully completed the distance. It got me thinking it was possible, or at least not impossible. I guess it became one of those really annoying nagging things that goes round and round your head, like a really bad song you can’t shift when you’re swimming.

In truth though, the real reason I entered was because I was massively hungover. I’d been on a stag weekend with my Lichfield triathlon friends. We’d drunkenly talked about it and a few of us enthusiastically discussed entering one. Fuelled with the banter as well as the after effects of too many beers and cocktails, I sat on the sofa the next evening and entered Ironman UK in Bolton. Being very pleased with myself I text the stag lads to tell them expecting everyone to be similarly motivated to follow suit. I think the alcohol had skewed my perception of how eager the others were to do it. It might have sounded good the night before but everyone else came to their senses the next day. I was on my own on this one.

Realising I was going to need help if I was going to avoid another London marathon disaster I searched for and found a coach. Training started in November 2016 and I’ve followed the weekly schedule ever since. Finding a coach was the best decision I’ve made. Having a structured programme to follow, tailored to my own lifestyle, has been just what I needed.

So here I am nine months later. I think I’m in good shape, but I’m still bricking it. I mean, there’s a marathon at the end of a ridiculously long swim and bike for God’s sake. What was I thinking?