Ups and downs

After having the focus of training towards something for a few months it’s easy to feel a bit down after the event has passed. The next big thing for me this year is the Dublin Marathon at the end of October and that’s too distant to start training towards. There’s scope to improve my half marathon best time so will look to step up through that event but I don’t want to be hitting that target until the month before the marathon and so that’s still a few months off.

Looking at our club’s championship calendars the road and trail races are well under way and I haven’t been able to join in any of those scheduled events yet. The fell calendar is not as big and really kicks off in as we get towards summer and the mid week evening events start to pop up regularly. I have enjoyed the more relaxed turn up to a pub/church hall, book in on the night, grab your number and off you go races in the past, so to fill in my summer season I thought that would be a great distraction. The hilly as well as scenic routes make for great strength training too.

The weekend before last I answered a call to support our club’s gents running in the Rochdale Harrier’s 3 day event series. Each race was about 6 miles long but the terrain varied from road to trail before a final fell run up Knowl Hill. I did feel a bit of a fraud rocking up on a sunny Sunday morning after a couple of days of rain, to compete with the battered legs of those who had raced the previous two days but hey it’s nice to be needed. We had a number of runners from Prestwich committed to the 3 day event, a couple of them had featured in the winning men’s trio for the road and trail races but they needed a bit of support for the third day.

I wasn’t the only Prestwich AC runner to answer the call. Richard had been out drinking for most of the previous day but late Saturday evening saw the same appeal in the Whatsapp group. We traveled to Norden together and he looked much better than I would’ve done in his position but he’s probably 20 years my junior. I’ve seen him do this before so his 2nd place finish shouldn’t have surprised me too much. Rob had run the whole tour and finished the fell run 3rd claiming the 1st place for the overall 3 day tour in a very convincing manner. My respectable 12th position was enough for us to take the men’s trio prize for Prestwich and a bottle of wine to take home for the Sunday roast.

During that race I noticed that I was doing well on the climbs. I lack the balls to really attach the down-hills even on grass but having realised this over the last couple of years I’m happy to attack the climbs ready to concede places on the descents. This happened at Knowl Hill with every climb particularly the steepest section where we were using our hands. I gained 4 places on the steepest climb to take myself into the top 10 but lost them on the following downhill.

The same happened to a lesser degree earlier this week at Radcliffe AC’s Tor Mile held near Helmshaw. This was just one climb that got incredibly sharp before doubling back. The downhill was the steepest I’d ever tried to descend, a proper cheese rolling gradient and I literally didn’t know what to do when looking down it.

A couple passed me as I paused debating whether to run or slide, the route up had been a series of foot holes in the face of the hill which would not have helped and as I turned in 8th place there was already a long line of competitors trudging upwards along this course. I went to the right of the queue and maybe should have tried a diagonal zigzag descent to lessen the gradient but I had my lost my ability to think straight, my running felt completely out of control and a tumble seemed inevitable so I took to my bum and tried to slide. This worked for a while but it wasn’t a steady gradient. I came to a halt and shuffled on my bottom like a petulant toddler but I was struggling to pick up speed. I went back to my feet then dropped onto my bum again yelping “I don’t know what I’m doing!” to the queue of climbing runners. I lost another couple of places through the clumsy shuffling but once the hill gradient became run-able I held my position for the 5 minutes back to the start.

Last night I was a bit pushed for time so I parked up my bike a couple of miles short of my whole home-bound commute. Moor Lane is a favourite local climb but rather than running up and down it at an even pace for differing durations as I had done previously, I concentrated on 60 second climbing with 90 seconds to gently return before going again. Each climb was slightly longer than the last, though I did start the first quite steadily. Listening to a podcast the other night I heard how climbing encourages better posture as well as building physical and mental strength. I tried to think about my posture on each climb only allowing things to become a bit more ragged in the last few seconds of upwards effort.

The last 2 climbs were tough but were the longest ones so my mission was accomplished and I rode the rest of the way home feeling satisfied. I’m definitely enjoying my climbing at the moment but if I want to finish higher up the field in fell races I’m going to have to start enjoying the downhills too.

 

 

My 2019 Deva middle distance triathlon

The Deva Triathlon was a fabulous event. Chester provided a beautiful venue with transition in Grosvenor Park at the centre of the city and a swim in the river Dee. The run looped 3 times taking in a couple of bridges close to the finishing line by the riverside where we’d swum. Great for spectators who gave a massive lift to all us competitors.

I arrived in Chester with Catriona and the kids late on Saturday morning which gave us time to orientate ourselves between car park, transition zone and the finish line where registration was opening that afternoon. There was already carpet down marking the route from river side to the bike racks as well as the ride out, ride in and run out. My stomach started to gurgle as I saw all the pieces coming together and was relived when we headed off to the shops and found a bit of lunch. We returned to the riverside early afternoon and there was already a queue at registration. I’d taken the option to buy a classy looking indigo blue hoodie which matched up with the trim of the white event t-shirt, towel and race belt that were in the goodie bag as well as an assortment of nutritional delights. I also picked up my number 442 and timing chip.

We checked into our hotel a couple of miles away and after I sorted through all my kit, working out what was to go where and to be used when, we headed back to the city for a buffet banquet at Panda Mami. By the side of the canal we found the Artichoke cafe bar to help kill an excess 30 mins before eating. I sunk a lovely smokey pint of Titanic stout and spotted coasters in the bar advertising the very interesting sounding Cavern of the Curious Gnome on Bridge Row back in the centre of the city. The support crew had to head back to Salford in the morning so that my son could play a cup final kicking off 12:10, around the time I was hoping to finish the triathlon. So I’d have a couple of hours to kill before they would be back in Chester to pick me up. The Cavern looked as good a place as any to shelter as well as to refuel. After eating as much sushi, duck pancakes and teppanyaki’d steak as I dared, together with a couple of small beers, we walked the 30 minutes back to the hotel letting it all settle and then I hit the sack early not bothering with the evening’s European Cup final.

I slept well and as expected woke before 5am as it was light. Lots of time to get fluids in me, a pot of porridge and carton of beetroot juice. I felt well settled and well fueled before leaving at 5:50 to ride in to transition. I found my rack and started to feel intimidated by the spectacular bikes around me. I bought my Principia road bike 2nd hand on ebay about 8 years ago. I guess it was about 8 years old then. It’s not a bad bike, light and comfortable with decent spec components but its uninspiring grey aluminium frame made it look 20 years older than everything else in transition.

After racking up and fiddling with my kit, laying things out in order and also working out how many jelly babies I could load into my tri-suit for the ride (82) I was met by the family support team who’d brought my kit box with wet suit. I took more care putting the suit on than I had done earlier in the week to ensure I had better movement of my shoulders. Then, before I knew it, I was walking down to the boathouse with all the other middle distance competitors for the 7am start. We were asked to sort ourselves on the riverside by expected time and I opted for 40 minutes. I’d recently swum 1.9 km in 35 minutes in the pool but expected to be slower in the river. It was a rolling start with the 450 or so of us entering one by one from a pontoon after crossing a timing mat. This was much better than a mass wave start with the battle for positions and all those shenanigans that ensue. Despite the early hour the water wasn’t cold. It was a suspicious cloudy green grey colour and I didn’t try to touch the bottom, if that would’ve been possible, but I was grateful there was no debris floating in it. Within a few seconds I’d settled into breathing every other stroke and was gradually putting my head more and more confidently into the murky water. We headed down stream for 200m and I stayed closer to the bank away from the bulk of the traffic which was forming a line close to the buoys down the centre of the river. We turned to go upstream for the next kilometre and I can’t say I noticed any current pushing against me. The river meandered and I was frustrated that I couldn’t see the upstream turning point. Even if it was a long way off it would’ve been reassuring to see that target. I hit a good rhythm; breathing every three strokes, stretching out further and pushing the air out hard under water so there was no fear of taking in any of the mucky river water.

Once the turn was reached the last section passed quickly, I felt I’d judged the swim perfectly, passing numerous people and not tiring or slowing up at all. Out of the water I was delighted to see I took less than 33 minutes. I ran along the carpet and up some steps to Grosvenor park whilst trying to take the wet suit off the top half of my body. I wasn’t bothered about a quick transition I just wanted to make sure nothing went wrong. There was time to eat a couple of mini Soreen bars before taking the suit off and putting socks and bike shoes on. I trotted steadily out of transition waving to Catriona, Maria and Alex who were there to cheer me off.

There were a couple of sharp turns into side streets but we seemed to leave the city without hitting any major junctions and were soon along narrow lanes that took us through villages. Along these roads we occasionally mingled with patient local traffic who joined the procession of bikes moving at 20 to 25 mph before they could safely overtake. At about 5km I caught Shantelle, who was the only competitor I knew. She declined the jelly baby I offered as I passed by and we didn’t meet again until the run across the meadows where we hi-fived each time our paths crossed. There must have been some climbing on the way out of Chester but I don’t remember were it was. There was no gradient that forced you out of your saddle but neither did I notice any long steady climbs. The last 10 km of the main loop was definitely gently down-hill and that would be very welcome on the second loop when approaching transition to the run. On the first return to Chester I was unexpectedly greeted by the family who I presumed would have left for Salford after I started the ride. They spotted me on Old Dee Bridge and I waved back as they cheered me on. It gave me a boost and I was grinning for a few minutes before the grimace returned.

I was averaging over 30 km/h something I’d only done a couple of times before and on those occasions for just over an hour. This time I kept the speed for the best part of 3 hours. I had plenty of drink left and was only half way through the supply of jelly babies. My heart and lungs were fine but the legs were starting to throb. I’d intended to back off for the 20 minute downhill to Chester but in the end I didn’t. Having been happy to slip back through the field whilst cycling there came a point when I thought no more, let’s hold this position. I traded places with a guy called Patrick  on his yellow Boardman bike and then the pair of us picked off places as we descended to Chester. I wasn’t sure what my tired legs would do for the run but I could see I was about 15 minutes ahead of my bike target and I wasn’t going to lose all that on the run.

Transition was less painful than expected. My legs felt like they were my own but there was no way they and the rest of my body were going to find the elegant form I had been trying to drill into myself in recent weeks. I didn’t find any rhythm and thought that I had struggled through the run but the splits show my pace didn’t drop much and my third 7km lap was slightly quicker than the first. My watch warned that its battery was low and 8k from home it saved my run data and from then on just showed me the time of day. At least I had hours and minutes and I could see if I didn’t slow up too much I should get to the finish before noon giving me a sub 5 hour time. Most of the run was along tracks and trails across the meadows on the south side of the river. It was an out and back with a turning point for the Olympic distance competitors just under half way to our middle distance turn point. Some sections were narrow and you had to time your overtaking manoeuvres if you wanted to stay on the track. I think this distracted me and gave a mental boost as I was overtaking others through-out the run. My run was just under 1hr 29 mins and I climbed from 212th after the bike to finish 118th out of 446. I got back at 11.59 with a total time of 4:53 which surpassed my expectations.

The photo below shows the emotion of relief rather than ecstasy on crossing the finishing line. There was nothing left for a sprint finish and after a can of coke and banana I stumbled back to transition to pick up the bike. I found the Cavern of the Curious Gnome and parked my bike outside it, struggling up a couple of flights of stairs with crumbling legs to find a La Trappe Blonde with a cheeky La Chouffe chaser. I chatted to a couple who had been watching my bike for me as popped up stairs to the bar and as he was born in Crumpsall I thought he might appreciate my tale of retrieving a stolen bike from a vendor in that neighbourhood. For me, at least, the time passed quickly. I met Catriona and the kids at 3pm back at the Little Roodee carpark and we all headed home to Prestwich. Alex’s Tigers had won their cup final 9-2 so there was even more to toast over pizzas at Croma that evening.

I’ve learned so much from this event and the training for it. I enjoyed the swimming and the all over strength it has given me. I’ve had no back pain at all when that hampered my last triathlon in 2013.  I’m cycling faster and further than ever before, but to be competitive at middle distance I’d need to do much more work here (or buy a £3000 bike!). Running is my real strength and so if I’m to play to that I should drop down to Olympic distance or find events around those sort of  dimensions. Any thoughts of an Ironman have disappeared (or postponed until after retirement?) Maybe I’ll try something wilder in North Wales or the Lake District next but not this year, the rest of this year is just about running.

My Deva triathlon in photos

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