After a relatively trouble-free build up to this race I was setting my aspirations high to set a much faster Ironman PB than my previous best of 9:18, set at the same race in 2018. In public I’d mentioned anything from 8:30 to 8:20 as my target, which usually led to a degree of shock followed by congratulations. “Wow, that’s amazing” they would say. Well, I had to actually do it first…
I felt a lot of belief and support from training partners and the triathlon community though. After winning the long distance world title in May I really tried to shift my perspective too. I wasn’t coming into this race as a plucky underdog, I was one of the top age groupers out there on a mission to prove I could hack it over the full ironman distance. I hadn’t done a full distance triathlon (except the slightly unique Celtman) for five years and wanted a statement result to prove myself at long course racing. Roth is fast, but also honest – with plenty of hills and corners on the bike and an often scorching run in the Bavarian sun.
This would also be my first race with my main training partner Henry – only 20 years old but a really talented athlete who routinely shows me up in swim and run (but tends to sit on my wheel on the bike…). It would be his first full distance race and was targeting under 9 hours, which I privately thought might be optimistic as he’s such a competitive racer. I guessed he might go off too hard or not eat / drink enough – leading to a spectacular blow up. Ironman is such a long day, and it’s so hard to get it right first time. Frankly, I had my own reservations about getting the formula correct after so long out…
For the swim, we positioned ourselves right at the front of our wave of 200 athletes all targeting “sub 9”. We spent 10 minutes treading water waiting for the gun, feeling the pressure from all the bodies behind us slowly build, getting increasingly certain I would be swum over and beaten up by every single one of them. Predictably, the first few minutes were frenzied chaos. Bam. Punch in the mouth. Bosh. Goggles smashed into face. But apart from a few gulps of canal water, things soon calmed down and we quickly settled into a comfortable rhythm. In fact, I was quite worried we were going too slowly, but other than a couple of guys solo off the front, I seemed to be in the front pack. Around 15 minutes in, I recognised Henry’s wetsuit and managed to settle onto his feet. Having been frustrated by toe tappers in recent races I knew how annoying my frequent touches on his feet must be, but with the murky brown water and bright sun it was really hard to see where people were, and keeping the draft was more important than being polite. The only brief drama came when Henry tried to perform a U-turn one buoy early and I had to surge briefly to close the gap for both of us to the lead swimmer. This outrageously meant I ended up exiting the water in front of Henry and I was impressed he hadn’t pushed to try and lead our group out of the water (or at least exit in front of me). This was my first indication he was going to pace the day sensibly. I finished the swim in 51:35 – the same exact time I’d recorded in a solo lake swim a couple of weeks before – but with the benefit of a draft this had felt a much easier effort. A perfect start.
After a relatively trouble-free T1, apart from a child trying to run out in front of me, I hit the two lap bike course. Last time here, I’d gone off too hard and ended up biking the second lap 10 minutes slower. This time, my mantra was to pace it more evenly and I set off at a modest effort. I knew Henry would have overtaken me in T1 but couldn’t have gained more than about 40 seconds, so was surprised I couldn’t see him up the road. In fact, after 45 minutes I still hadn’t caught him and started to wonder if he was actually behind me. Having dominated most of my races on the bike recently, and seen Henry struggle on the bike relative to other disciplines, I’d been really quite confident of putting a lot of time into him here.
At this point, I was overtaken by two really fast guys. Age group guru Ross Harper had tipped me off that someone called Lars from the Zwift Academy team was my “ticket to the front of the race” and his matching orange trisuit and bike were hard to miss, even if they did come past me very quickly. I decided to try and stick with him and his blue-suited companion and we soon caught Henry to form a 4 person group leading the age group field. We were monitored almost permanently by a marshal on a motorbike, keen to ensure we maintained a 12m distance between us. I’m so scared of penalties that I was holding about 20m off the back, and often more as my bike handling skills were repeatedly shown up – having to work hard to get back to the group after any descents or cornering.
However, after a while in this formation I decided it wasn’t a good look next to a marshal to always be off the back, so I did my best to take a few turns on the front. Henry started to get some stick from Lars for not doing the same – I could understand why as he was getting a bit of a free ride, but equally, he was playing by the rules and sticking to 12m. It probably wasn’t good etiquette from Henry, but it was smart racing. As we approached Solar Hill – the most famous part of the course where crowds line the road on both sides like the Tour de France, only separating to let one bike through at a time, Henry tried to take over from me on the front. I told him quite directly that I wasn’t having it for the photos to suggest he’d been anywhere near the front of this group – probably a bit harsh…
I’m not sure if it’s because my words carried more weight than Lars’, but Henry did then take a decent turn on the front. I knew I’d been riding unsustainably hard, so worried Henry might really be breaking himself at this point. We finished the first lap in 2:09, and soon after Henry dropped away. Lars was really pushing the pace at this point and I was struggling to keep up too. But I knew I was quicker on the uphills, so it was just too tempting to keep surging to get back with them, the tantalising carrot of Lars’ orange trisuit repeatedly tempting me to go into the red. It had been the right call to go with him and try to stick with the front of the race, but I conceded it was now necessary with 45 miles left for me to let him and the guy in blue go.
I began to get caught by other age groupers as the second lap wore on, and found myself with the unfamiliar sense of moving backwards in the race. The crowds kept my spirits up (although the rattles they’d been issued with kept giving me a panic attack that I’d suffered a mechanical) and overtaking age groupers on their first lap helped remind me I was still moving fairly fast. I was really being humbled by a number of stronger cyclists though. Every overtake was an opportunity to ride with someone and every time I couldn’t. I just tried to focus on staying as aerodynamic as possible, knowing I could ride pretty quick on this course even without much power. Last year’s age group winner Fritz overtook me just as we headed into Solar Hill the second time – I told him I wouldn’t be able to ride with him as my legs were cracked. “Maybe I’ll see you on the run though” I suggested, optimistically.
I was convinced I was doing pretty badly at this stage – being repeatedly overtaken will do that to you – so was surprised when Dan Plews rode past me with 10 miles to go. Dan is the course record holder for an age grouper in Kona and I knew going into the race he would be one of the fast guys to watch out for. I managed to stick with him for the rest of the ride and we arrived together into T2, with my bike split of 4:32 just two minutes over my target and the second lap only two minutes slower than the first. No drama afterall.
I was out of T2 just ahead of Dan but he quickly ran up to join me. The first 16 miles of the run course goes straight up and down a canal on a gravel path. Whilst this is flat, and the gravel a little more forgiving on your legs, it’s very exposed to the sun and psychologically quite draining. I was happy to have someone to run with, and was confident that with his experience Dan would be able to pace this section well. We were running consistent splits for a 2:50 marathon and whilst this felt really easy to start with, I knew being sensible now was essential for later on. With a couple of U-turns, it was fun to spot a few male pros on the course, along with seeing how the front of the women’s race was evolving. Dan and I began to steadily run through the age group field – catching some familiar faces who’d overtaken me on the bike. I couldn’t tell our position or how far ahead the leaders were but I hadn’t spotted Lars at all. My focus was really on getting the best time possible, and maybe a little on winning the battle with Dan now we were in this together.
At this stage, I assumed Henry had probably cracked quite badly, so I was surprised to see him so quickly after the first turnaround – only about 10 minutes back and looking strong. 7 miles later I went through the same process and was again pleased to see him running well. We high-fived as we crossed and shouted encouragement. I overtook Fritz, who recognised me immediately – “ah, you said see you on the run” he grinned and we fist-bumped. The spirit between athletes was great all day.
The weather was really getting hot at this point. I was taking on as much fluid as possible at aid stations every mile – often walking them to drink from several cups and losing a few metres to Dan each time. I was also taking a gel and a salt tablet every 20 minutes based on a carefully planned fueling spreadsheet. But despite the heat and the tough bike leg, my running felt strong and smooth.
The final 7 miles featured a gradual uphill to the town of Buchenbach, a quick loop around a duck pond, and then the same route back down into Roth for the finish line. I’m usually strong at downhill running, so planned to keep it steady until the duck pond, then try to drop Dan on the descent. As it happened, I pulled ahead just before we hit the uphill section without any deliberate increase in pace or effort. Ironman racing really can come down to who slows down the least.
In the closing miles I started to get very thirsty and took the aid stations even slower – swigging water, isotonic drink and coke at every one – grabbing at each cup I could see. I knew at this point fuel or hydration were all that could stop me. I clumsily missed one gel as I jogged past and a volunteer ran back up alongside me to ensure I got it. I know it’s the done thing to thank volunteers at races, but they really are amazing at Roth and go the extra mile.
I picked up that I was in third place in the age group race, and with two miles to go was told I was only a minute behind second. To be honest I didn’t have any killer instinct to try and catch up – maybe for first it would have been different. My focus was on holding onto third and finishing ahead of those I’d been battling with all day. And also to not blow up, as I could tell I was on track to finish just under 8:20.
I had a final chance to check on Henry at the bottom of the hill. This time he was walking, flanked by a volunteer. “I feel dizzy” was all he could say. “Just walk to the finish if you can” I replied – not sure if he could. I pushed the pace as I entered Roth for the last mile and was pleased to see the green gorilla’s bottom welcoming me to the finish stadium. I was handed some flowers for finishing under 9 hours and soaked up the atmosphere, finishing elated and on the finish line video amusing Jan Frodeno with a celebratory roar that got an amazing response from the crowd. My time was 8:16:03 – a huge PB and faster than my best case scenario. I’d finished third, with Lars in second and “blue guy” Hans Christian in first – the winner of Norseman from 2019 who I actually recognised quite a few times on course, but had thought he raced as a professional. Henry came home in 9:25 to complete a strong debut, despite walking most of the last 10km.
I finished feeling strong and euphoric. It wouldn’t last. First, I was taken away for my first experience of anti doping, which mainly involved feeling embarrassed at not being able to wee for several hours and making myself sick drinking too much water to aid that mission. For the next 12 hours I felt really dizzy and unwell – I still feel I paced the event correctly, but will definitely think twice about entering hot races for a while. Hopefully Cork and Weymouth won’t give me that problem again this year!
