Andrew, Race Report

Norseman – Part 1 (Pre-race) (Andrew)

Pride comes before the fall, which is okay, at least it’s better to have pride before you fall than a really, really big cliff.

I had pride on Saturday, a week before Norseman. I went for a short BRIC session and felt strong. “Looking good,” I thought, “you’ve reached the start of Norseman and you feel strong and confident and every bit of your body feels like it’s in tip top condition. Well done you!”

On Sunday, I climbed a ladder to the attic and tried to pull my bike bag down. When I tugged it I could feel a sharp twist in my lower back. Luckily, I didn’t fall, or at least not physically. Mentally, I knew what had happened. Pride. And a recurrence of a back injury from November last year. The same injury I had when I was told I’d got my spot in Norseman. I could only hope it would heal in time for the start.

They say time is a great healer but do you know what’s an even better healer? A fully trained physio. On Tuesday I was prodded, poked, stretched and manipulated back into shape. “You’ll be okay for Saturday,” she said. But she didn’t mention Wednesday, Thursday or Friday, days where the pain only increased rather than lessened. “Will I even make it to the start?” I thought.

It was only on Friday afternoon that the pain – by now just an intermittent dull ache – started to ease. I knew this would happen. That physio treatment tends to make things worse for 48 hours until you get better but it was a horrible couple of days of doubts and questions.

Alongside my doubts I was also having bad thoughts about the jump into the fjord. “People die when they jump into cold water,” I thought, “you’re going to die!”. I knew these fears were baseless. I’ve jumped into cold water before but I couldn’t help circling back and forth like a vulture around this dark thought.

This meant I wasn’t the best of company for the days before Norseman. No confidence. Full of fear. Such a change from Saturday.

As I tried to sleep on Friday night the thoughts were still there. Should I quit? Should I start? Should I just walk away? I went to bed at 9:30pm but it was a long time before I slept.

Iain, Race Report

Hebridean Triathalon (Iain)

“Blue-green algae occurs when specific types of photosynthetic bacteria forms blooms”

Blue-green algae can be toxic to animal and humans. Although it’s a misnomer as its not actually an algae. There’s a useful/useless fact you can tell your friends.

The Hebridean triathlon is the first ever triathlon to be held on the Isle Of Lewis. This year’s event was a test event. The organisers had never done a triathlon themselves so credit to them for putting on a successful event.

Nine hardy souls had agreed to test the course. A mixture of individuals and teams.

Swim – 30 min

The day before the event blue-green algae was found in the loch. Luckily a retest of water in the morning showed no sign of it.

The swim was two laps. The water was so full of peat it felt like swimming in a pint of Guinness. I could barely see my hand in front of my face. I forgot to start my GPS watch so I can’t check how accurate my sighting was.

I know I took a detour on the first lap as a canoeist came over and pointed me towards the correct buoy. I was swimming towards the wrong one.

The second lap was fine and I was out of the water in 30 minutes. I could have been quicker if I’d gone in the correct direction but I was happy with the time.

Bike – 1hr 26 min

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The bike course was an out and back loop to the Callanish Stones. An ancient stone circle site. There was a strong north westerly wind but it never felt like it was helping on the way out or back.

The route was “lumpy” with one minor 15% climb(!). It was short but I could feel the front of my bike lifting as I tried to go up it.

On the road it was sometimes better to cycle on the pavement. This sounds dodgy but pavements on the island are just an additional bit of concrete next to the road. Some of the pavements have been laid later than the road so they are smoother to ride on.

My time was slow but it never felt like a fast course. I think most people came in slower than they expected.

Run – 57 min

bike

This is the slowest I’ve ever run a 10k! The route was out and back through a local village. It was as “lumpy” as the bike route.

It was strange running along with so few people about. When I finally saw someone in their garden I gave them a big wave. Relief that someone else was out and about.

Thankfully the last 2km are mostly downhill. The first time in the day I felt it was easy.

Overall

Great first race on the island which should go from strength to strength. The course is good, the location is amazing and the food at the end is the best of any race I’ve done.

Just don’t expect a PB 🙂

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Andrew

Being A Norseman (Andrew)

Last night I watched ‘Being A Norseman’, a documentary by a Christian Wulff, a participant in the 2011 Norseman. In it he shows and shares, via GoPro footage, his race from his perspective. We see him jump from the ferry, climb the mountains, run along the lake and battle to the finish line.

It was strange to watch it and think that in less than two weeks time I’ll be doing exactly the same thing. On one hand it was good to actually see some of the challenges ahead. I now know that Zombie hill is not a recreation of that scence in World War Z where a zombie breaches the walls of Jerusalem by running up a mountain of other zombies. It’s a road. A very, very steep road.

It was also good to see the finish as I’m not convinced I’ll be in the first 160 participants who’ll get the right to climb to it. I know I’m fitter than last year’s Iron Man UK but I don’t know if that translates to being in the top 160. It would be good to finish on the mountain but I know it would just be good to finish, wherever it might be.

The only thing missing from the documentary was a more detailed look at his training. Wulf…. spoiler alert…. look away now…

… finished in the top 100 participants. However, he only mentions training to say that he needed swimming lessons and that he only started running in May because of a knee operation. I’d have liked to know how he worked around that and managed to adjust his training to cope.

I’d recommend the documentary, if you can find it. It was on ‘Bike’ channel in the darkest recesses of Sky, while the full documentary doesn’t appear to be online though I’ve found the following trailer for it.

Trailer: Vimeo

Iain, Race Report

Tenby Long Course Weekender – Bike and Run (Iain)

Last night, I watched a program about people who swim the English channel. The pilot of a boat told one swimmer: “You need to be prepared.”

The swimmer replied “Prepared for what?”

“After doing this you’ll never be the same again!”

Which implies some life changing profoundness will be gained through completing the challenge but I’ve found that’s not always the case. I once had the same conversation as the swimmer and pilot with a friend of mine. He’d accepted my challenge to eat 12 Cadbury creme eggs in one sitting.

“After doing this you’ll never be the same again!”

He was never the same again. He used to love creme eggs but now can’t abide anything with caramel in it.

I don’t think I’ve learnt anything profound by completing race but I have learnt one lesson. I don’t like racing in the cold, rain and wind!

I wish I could tell you how I overcame the hellish weather, the problem with start times and the atrocious food stops at the Long Course Weekend Bike Race but I can’t. It was wet and miserable so I did one lap of the course. That was more than enough.

Instead of battling on we finished early. We used the free time to watch the movie “Central Intelligence” which was very enjoyable.

Some quick thoughts about the bike leg.

– There are no timing mats on the course until near the end of the lap. We should have done the big loop twice rather doing the small one and getting caught out by the cutoff time.
– The feedstops were pretty bad. No sport gels and the “energy drink” was diluted orange. I know this because a woman at one stop told me after I’d asked what it was.
– The course is roughly the same as Ironman Wales. This has a fearsome reputation but I didn’t find it that bad. There’s no long climbs just lots of short one. None of which required me to get out of my seat.

Thankfully the weather was a lot better on the Sunday. Andrew had won the bike leg so this was the decider. I was confident of victory having beaten him in most running races over the last few years. I was too confident.

I started off way to fast and bonked at mile 9. I thought I’d done enough to coast round ahead of him but I was wrong. He caught and passed me. I didn’t see again until the end. He was the deserved winner….this time!

Some quick thoughts about the run leg.
– Its a very undulating course. Don’t start off too fast and be prepared for some steady climbs.
– The food stops were fine for a half marathon but if i was doing the full I’d have preferred a better selection.
– The finish into Tenby is great. A big crowd cheering me on was a relief after the steep hill into Tenby.

Would I do the Long Course Weekend again? No but that’s not due to the race. Its a tricky location to get to due to all the driving from Scotland. Worth visiting once but never again!

Andrew, Race Report

Run The Blades Half Marathon (Andrew)

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A few years ago the Edinburgh festival of running gave competitors a medal shaped like a willy. They didn’t set out to make a willy shaped medal, it just happened to look like that when you looked at if from the back rather than the front. If you Google it you’ll see what I mean.

Medals should be easy. They’re round. They have the name of the event on them and, if you’re feeling fancy, you might have the event logo on it.

Ideally, the medal should have the date of the event so that it’s personalised, but, if you’re short of cash just have then name of the event and that way you can print the date on the ribbon and reuse medals from year to year.

I don’t really give much thought to medals. I keep them in a box as a momento of the races I’ve completed but I’ve never looked at them beyond taking them home and packing them away.

I might make an exception for the Run The Blades medal.

Run The Blades is a race round Whiteleee wind farm, just outside of Glasgow. It has a 10k, a half marathon and an ultra run. I was running the half marathon as a final long run before Norseman. There was around 200 – 250 people racing too, with around 75 running the ultra.

I could tell they were running the ultra as they all wore an identical uniform of hydration backpack, compression socks and kinetic tape.

They were prepared. I was not – when I was on the start line I noticed I’d put my number on upside down. It was too late to switch, and, as I wasn’t 666 or 999 it was obvious that I’d got it wrong. Oh well, another thing to watch out for at Norseman: getting my number on correctly.

The race was varied with a good mix of tracks around the tubines, some hills, though nothing compared to Tenby, and some running along the main tarmac spine road. I tried to keep a steady pace while listening to an interview with Jimmy Carr on the Comedian’s Comedian podcast.

Occasionally I would check my time and distance on my watch and I’d think, is this really 13 miles. In my head I could see how the paths we were on would be exactly 13 miles. I was right. As I approached the finish a sign said “400 metres to go” and we were only at 12 and half miles. At the finish line my watch said 12.9 miles so, after I’d picked up my medal, I decided to run a bit further until my watch was over 13 miles.

Once I’d made sure my Garmin record was okay (I didn’t want to record it as having run short), I was able to look at my medal – a standard round medal with the logo, the race name and, the best bit of all, three blades of a turbine that spun round. It was medal you could spin! What a brilliant idea and I can’t wait to see if other races start to copy it: make the medal interactive based on where you are.

Glasgow half marathon could have a flick knife built in. The London marathon could have an oyster card, while the Edinburgh festival of running could be filled with knobs… oh wait, they’ve already done that.

Iain, Race Report

Long Course Weekend – Swim (Iain)

The last time I visited Wales was eight years ago. I went down with my girlfriend (of the time) and a couple of friends. Our plan was to climb Snowdon. My two friends decided to run it, so my girlfriend and I walked and we agreed to meet our friends at the top.

We started walking and we soon came to a break in the path. It wasn’t clear which way to go so we choose the right hand path. After a short distance there was a sign that said “Crib Goch route”. I hoped Grib Goch was Welsh for ‘easy route’.

We weren’t confident about our choice but as there was another couple ahead of us we thought “lets follow them as they look like they know what they are doing”. However, the route started to get steeper and steeper until we were on all fours climbing a vertical wall -and, when we got to the top, we realised we’d climbed the wrong mountain. It wasn’t Snowdon. It was its partner, which I found out afterwards is called Grib Goch. It turned out Grib Goch was Welsh for, well… Grib Goch.

The only way back was down the vertical path we’d just climbed or along a ridge so narrow you couldn’t stand up on it. Either side of the ridge was a huge vertical drop. A fall on either side would lead to death.

Luckily, we made it across. Mostly on all fours while holding on for dear life.

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It was the first and last ridge walk I’ve ever done.

Once we made it to the top of Snowdon my friends asked how we got on. My girlfriend replied that we’d got lost and had ended up rimming – confusing the term for ridge with something a whole lot different.

My friends laughed and then asked –

“Did you enjoy rimming?”

She replied: “I loved it. I want to do more rimming when I get back to Scotland”

I didn’t have the heart to point out her error. It was too funny.

My mistake. I should have pointed it out. She went to work the next week and told her friends and clients that she’d spent the weekend in wales rimming with three guys.

I’ve always wanted to come back to Wales. A couple of years ago I watched a TV show about the Tenby Long Course weekend. At the same time I saw an episode of Grand Designs set in Tenby where a couple renovated the lifeboat house. The race was the perfect opportunity to revisit wales, do a fun event and check out a cool house. I just hoped it wouldn’t involve ridging or rimming.

The swim was amazing. It takes place in a sheltered beach cove surrounded by the town. It comprises two loops of a triangle with an Australian exit. When viewing the course from the town I thought the hardest leg would be the middle section and the easiest would be the last. I was wrong. The easiest was the middle and the hardest the last.

I also thought the sea looked flat calm. It wasn’t. There was enough of a swell to keep the swim exciting/interesting/terrifying.

My sighting was good and according to my GPS I swam the same-ish route on both laps.

I was confident of beating Andrew as I’d swam in the sea more often him and I assumed he’d probably be slightly cautious.

If you do race it then I’d advise:
– Try to start near the front as there’s a lot of people taking part
– The course is setup for the whole weekend so you can have a practice swim at any point.
– Practice sighting. The markers are quite far apart so use landmarks instead. I used the house from Grand Designs.
– Book somewhere to eat for afterwards as the town’s mobbed with hungry swimmers.

I’ll write in my next post about the bike and run…

Iain, Race Report

Tenby Long Course Weekend – Part 1 (Iain)

When learner drivers sit their driving test they have to watch a hazard perception video. The footage was shot in Wales. How do I know this? Because one of the frequently asked questions in leaner centres is – why does it say “ARAF” on the road? “Araf” is Welsh for “slow” and it’s only seen in Wales.

Having now driven through Wales I’ve come to the conclusion Araf doesn’t mean slow down, it means your journey will be slow. Much slower than I thought it would be. It’s so slow I wondered if I ‘d ever get to my destination.

Wales is beautiful but I’d still build a motorway through it!

My destination was Tenby for the Long Course Weekend. Instead of swimming/biking/running in one day I’d be doing it over a more leisurely three days.

Before I detail the race I’ll mention the one complaint I have about it.

My start time for the bike ride was 0945. The organisers of the event implemented a cutoff at mile 66 of 1330.

When signing up for the event I was asked whether I wanted an early or late start but there wasn’t a cutoff mentioned. If I’d known I’d have chosen the early start.

I contacted the organisers to ask for an earlier start. I was told changing the start time was not possible and “sorry for the inconvenience”.

It’s more than an inconvenience to know in advance that I won’t complete a section of an event due to something I was not told in advance when signing up.

I checked the results and of the 3393 people in the race only 60 went at a pace that could have made the 1st lap cut-off (if they had started at 0945). I also checked and a number of riders who were due to start at 0945 had set off much earlier. Their times had been registered despite being told in the race notes that the timing chips would only be active ten minutes before the start time.

I asked why those riders were allowed to start early and it was reiterated that the start times couldn’t be changed due to “health and safety reasons.” Yet they didn’t disqualify any early starters despite the fact those riders must have been breaking the health and safety rules!

Even the top 10 racers in the event got to start earlier.

There was a number of very angry riders at the end of the 1st lap who weren’t allowed to continue.

In future I hope they implement a less strict cutoff time. 15mph is the common timing on most races I’ve entered. They should also ask riders for an anticipated time rather than an early or late start.

The races has rules, punish riders who break them not the ones who follow them.

Continued in Part 2!

Andrew

Tenby or Not Tenby – Part 4 (Andrew)

Sunday (Run)

On Friday, fireworks explode as you walk down to the surf. Today, a samba band plays as you walk from Pembroke Castle in a parade to the start line at the end of the High Street. Yesterday, we were at a car park and a man in a fluorescent tabard said “You might as well go then”. I think Saturday needs to get its act together…

The start of the Wales half-marathon is impressive. Arguably, more impressive than the marathon we’d watch start two hours earlier in Tenby.

The marathon runners start in the centre of Tenby, run to Pembroke and then come back via the half marathon route. The start is crowded with a couple of narrow 90 degree turns. The start for the half marathon takes place on a wide street, the main street of Pembroke, and has music, a parade, and something Tenby can’t top – a huge castle.

Also Pembroke has Constance Brown’s cafe/chippy, which is almost as old. We’d discovered it on Friday when we popped over to see the castle. Constance opened the cafe in 1928 and was still serving chips there over 80 years later at 102 years old. She’d died at 104 but the cafe hadn’t changed. Neither had the prices, which was handy when we were looking for a cheap and quick lunch.

Originally I was going to run the marathon but that was before I was successful in the Norseman ballot. Now, with four weeks to go, it would be stupid to try and run and marathon and then Norseman a month later. It was the right choice as, while the first few miles were fairly flat, the next 10 were more up and down than a nodding dog.

I’d decided to keep a steady pace, Iain decided to run. Within a mile he was gone and, with him, my chances of beating him this weekend. I didn’t want to try and keep up, I had a plan and was sticking to it. Instead I listened to Hamilton, the musical and kept a steady pace. A pace which would, I’d soon find out, overtake Iain.

At mile 10, I saw him. I felt strong so poked him in the back then ran away. He didn’t follow and I had a clear lead for the last three miles, which were largely downhill until a vicious wee kick up  half a mile from the finish.

And then – a cock up.

There was a red carpet finish. I thought the start of the carpet was the finish line as it was marked with a gantry. I sprinted. I crossed the line. I stopped. I got told off by a man in the crowd who said “You’re not finished yet – it’s another 20 metres!”

Luckily, Iain was still behind me, so I was able to sprint again and finish in 1 hour 48 minutes.

I grabbed a quick selfie with Tenby’s mayor at the finish line – “Can I have a mayor selfie?” I asked, in what I think is the Debrett’s acceptable style for asking for a selfie from a mayor – I was presented with a medal in an alleyway and I was done. Weekend over.

Looking back

The Long Course (Long) Weekend is a cracking weekend. Each event is well run. The swim is in a beautiful habour. The bike ride is varied and challenging. The run is on closed roads with some great open views across south west Wales. If you get a bed & breakfast in town then you’re only minutes from each start and finish line. But…

… if you live in Glasgow or anywhere outside Wales, then check how long it takes to get there. Wales is deceptively far away. And it’s no surprise that it’s national emblem is the dragon because while you drive through it you will definitely think “Boy, does this drag on!”.

Andrew, Race Report

Tenby or not Tenby – Part 3 (Andrew)

Saturday (Bike)

I’m rubbish at reading instruction. That doesn’t mean I read instructions and end up doing the exact opposite of what I’m asked to do. It means I’m rubbish at even glancing at instructions. I give them a quick look, check there’s nothing I need to know, then forget about them until the night before race day.  Then I panic.

This time the panic was over whether we’d actually be able to get round the 112 mile course before the cut off time for the second lap – the course involves a 66 mile circuit and then a 56 mile lap of part of it again.

We were given a 9:45 a.m. start time however the cut off was 1:30 p.m, which meant we’d need an average speed of c16 m.p.h. to make the cut off. And we’d need to make that speed despite a lumpy course and a 25 mph wind. Oh, and it was raining. And it was misty.

We didn’t make it.

Not that I minded. After four hours of cycling through the rain, the mist, the wind and up and down every valley in south west Wales I was glad to finish. I wasn’t too tired so could have gone on but I wasn’t keen to use all my tolerance for bad weather now rather than waiting for Norseman. If Norseman is bad, let it be bad, but at least let it be one of the few times I’ve got to cycle in it. I’ve got enough bad weather over the years that I don’t need to try an train in it to adjust. I know what it’s like to have cold hands, a wet body and a face so scrunched up from the elements that you looks like you’re trying to lift an oil tanker with your mind.

For what we could see, the course was nice and varied with plenty to see. It starts in Tenby, heads through Pembroke before a long but not too steep climb out to the coast where you cycle through dunes and pass beaches that, for this ride at least, were buffetted by strong waves and spray. Returning to Pembroke you then cycle through high hedges as the wind and rain swirls around you like midges. There’s some fantastic closed road sections where you head downhill among the hedges and feel like a pinball in a tunnel as they tower above you. The last third of the course has the majority of the steepest hills. A sharp climb up a valley  and through the town of Narbeth before returning along the coast with 18% plus climbs at Wise Man Bridge and Saundersfoot.

I ride with Iain for most of the route but start to edge ahead when we get to the final climbs. With only a few miles to go I stay ahead and, because I’ve not read the instructions, I get the finish all wrong. I didn’t know that riders would be redirected to the finish line if they missed the cut off. I thought I’d taken a wrong turn and almost stopped before the finish line to wait for Iain to check where we should go but I was through the finish line before I knew and relieving a medal I didn’t feel I deserved. I’d not finished the race. However, it turned out I had, by missing the cut-off we’d finished the 66 mile race instead, and still received a medal.

In the end we’d missed the cut-off by 24 minutes. Not long given the circumstances and the fact we’d not raced to try and beat it. But, even if we’d made it, I’m not sure I’d have gone out again. While I don’t read instructions, I do read the weather and the forecast for the afternoon was for heavy rain and gales and I was happy to miss that.