After a solid, if not blog-worthy, attempt at the Long Course Weekend (where I did the swim and bike but couldn’t risk the full marathon), I came into this race highly motivated. It was arguably my “A-race” for the year – a chance to test myself against the strongest British age-groupers and hopefully prove I was still right up there. Winning would also make me eligible for a pro licence next year, something I’d been persuaded to apply for last year only to be told I wasn’t the required standard by British Triathlon. I still hadn’t decided if I really wanted to race in the pro field, but was very motivated by the rejection to prove myself worthy!
Whilst there were lots of familiar names on the start list, the pre-race build up was largely focused on a match-up with Will Grace, who had been dominating the age-group scene this year with wins at Challenge Wales, Bolton 70.3 and Challenge Championships (where in beating me by 2 seconds he’d earned his own pro licence for next year). Having set off in different waves 10 minutes apart in Samorin, I was looking forward to what should be a close head-to-head battle this time around, along with the fun of racing with two of my training partners Henry and Alex.
This race had a unique start, with athletes jumping one at a time off Eastbourne pier, before navigating a swirling course that required savvy navigation of currents to avoid swimming extra distance. I positioned myself as the first athlete into the water – I knew I wouldn’t be the fastest swimmer, but thought this gave me the best chance to latch onto some fast feet after the initial sprints had burnt out. Whilst the idea was sound enough and I made it to the first buoy surrounded by familiar wetsuits, it quickly fell apart as we turned towards the bright, low sun which destroyed my awareness of who was around me, or indeed which part of the pier we were supposed to swim under.
I tried to follow the pre-race advice of swimming close to shore, but doubted myself a few times as more fast athletes seemed to be taking the inside line. I was fairly certain I’d messed things up but plodded on solo until I was unexpectedly re-caught by Henry around the halfway mark, who by luck or judgement (certainly not swim speed) I’d managed to overtake without noticing. I do struggle to get into my rhythm in the sea though, and despite fairly calm conditions found the waves enough of a distraction to make me lose Henry’s feet for a second time. Whilst I soon found Alex’s, I think we underestimated the current in the last 500 metres and slightly overshot the swim exit. I didn’t know if I’d had a good swim or not really, but looking back at my time relative to others it was probably about par.
I ran the long stretch to T1 as quickly as possible whilst anxiously waiting to try and mount the bike with shoes attached to the bike for the first time. My T1 has always been a source of ridicule – largely driven by an attachment to wearing socks and not wanting to fall over – but the lost time had become so significant that now was the time to take those risks.
Luckily, the moment passed incident-free and I set about pushing strong power to try and bridge up to the front. An early out-and-back section showed the lead group 90 seconds ahead of me, including Will who I’d expected to have that kind of advantage at this stage. I was confident I would catch him, the big question was whether I could then pull away from his group as I really needed to be off the bike in front of him to have any chance of winning.
The first 25 miles were on fast main roads, with gentle gradients and no tight corners. This was perfect for me and I knew I both needed, and could afford, to push an unsustainable power to gain on those in front. The lead group had splintered, and I caught Will and Henry after 20 miles. This was now a key moment, could I make an attack strong enough to break clear of Will? Almost as soon as I arrived, Henry and Will missed a (slightly unclear) left turn. Whilst they didn’t go far wrong, they had to perform a quick U-turn which gave me a free 20-30 metre advantage. I knew this was my opportunity and I put in a strong surge to break clear.
A moto marshal rode past and stayed about 200 metres in front of me. I wondered if more athletes had gone the wrong way at the turn and perhaps I was now out in front, and this was a lead bike just holding a respectable distance so as not to interfere with the race… No such luck, as I gradually caught it I found it was keeping a beady eye on a group of three riders I was now fairly sure were at the front. The marshall waved me through and I joined the group in fourth place, maintaining a large gap to third which yo-yo’d between 20 and 30 metres depending on how poor my cornering was.
Whilst the temptation was there to try and keep attacking (I knew I’d ridden the first half of the course quicker than them), the smart play was to stick here for now and save some energy for the run. It was also unlikely I could have pulled off an overtake on this section of narrow and winding lanes, both from a safety perspective and a bike handling one. The race seemed to be panning out pretty well at this stage though and my thoughts were all positive, except for the increasing loss of skin from unaccustomed bare feet. I was conserving energy whilst still riding fast in the front group. I was probably a stronger rider than these guys so I could attack on the two big climbs at the end of the course and lead into T2. These front riders were likely to be bike specialists and not as strong on the run as me. And I’d successfully created a gap to Will which I assumed was now growing…
Incorrect on all counts. My attempted “attacks” on the climbs only saw me move from fourth into second and no-one dropped out of the group. I then came into T2 firmly back in fourth after some cars pulled out in front of us and I was the only one not willing to risk overtaking them down the hairpin descent into transition. As soon as we set off on the run I could tell one of the athletes – Morgan (who it turns out is an elite off-road triathlete) – was a strong runner moving every bit as fast as me. And as we hit the first U-turn Will and Henry appeared much sooner than I expected and were only about 90 seconds back. I knew from this point it was going to be close and after coming into the race thinking I needed to win it on the bike, my best running was now needed to get me over the line.
The run was over two laps, and I set off much faster than expected – on pace for an unlikely 1:10 half marathon and not over-exerting myself. Wow, I must be fitter than I thought. At the lap halfway point, the immediate slap in the face of a strong headwind provided the explanation. On the tough graft back to the end of lap 1 I did slowly start to catch up with Morgan, but just as I prepared to make the pass received the disappointing news I was still nearly a minute behind him on the clock, as he’d been further back in the queue to jump off the pier. Behind me, Will was well clear of Henry now and still running well, but the gap between us was holding steady.
Onto lap 2, I was now breaking the run into chunks between U-turns and was determined that every time Morgan and Will had a chance to measure the gap to me they didn’t receive any encouragement. The gap closed to Morgan. It stayed the same to Will. On the last tailwind section I made a conscious move to overtake and put time into Morgan. He’s based in the local area and people in the crowd recognised him from some way off. The crowd kept shouting “come on Morgan” just as I passed them, making me think he was right behind me. But the gap was growing. I had my own supporters in the crowd and in the race though, and it was great to receive cheers from familiar faces built up over 10 years in the sport. At the final U-turn I knew the time to both Morgan and Will should be enough, but I couldn’t afford to let up. I emptied the tank in those last three miles, where sheer effort managed to offset deteriorating run form to maintain my pace.
I crossed the finish line without too much celebration, conscious of the risk that someone from behind might still record a faster time. I was pretty sure I’d won, but I also really needed a lie down… It turned out I had done enough, with Will overtaking Morgan late on the run for second place. It had been an epic race and one where I felt pushed all the way, helping me set my fastest ever run off the bike. I could then enjoy a first champagne (prosecco) shower on the podium and field lots of questions about whether or not I would be taking the pro licence I’d now unambiguously qualified for.
My honest position on that is that I still don’t know. I instinctively feel like an age grouper – I work full time, have zero sporting background pre-triathlon and have never considered myself an “aspiring pro”, I’m just a hobbyist that got better than they ever expected. The standard of age-group racing is improving all the time and I always find myself in close, exciting battles at the pointy end of races. And, being honest, I do enjoy winning sometimes, which frankly isn’t going to happen in the elite field. Racing the likes of Liam Lloyd and Josh Lewis at Long Course Weekend was eye-opening in terms of how big the gap to the professionals really is. I worry about spending next year having an unenjoyable time getting routinely battered and losing my love for the sport.
But I’ve also experienced most of what can be done as an age grouper, and I do think you can regret the chances you don’t take. So I know I probably should roll the dice and go for it, just for a year. That’s certainly the view of most other people. I’ll spend the next few months reflecting on which route excites me more and come to the decision that’s right for me.
