My main target for this race was to improve on my PB of 8 hours 16 minutes set at Roth last year. I’d heard Copenhagen was an even faster course, so with perfect weather conditions expected I was confident this was on the cards. After a few age-groupers went under 8 hours at Hamburg earlier this year some people mentioned I should target doing the same, but whichever way I crunched the numbers I was struggling to see how that would happen without a fairly outrageous marathon split.
As an age-group only race, I was also dreaming of the overall win. From a quick stalk of the startlist one name stood out as a contender – Olaf van den Bergh. He’d run 2:41 in his last two Ironmans (7 minutes quicker than my PB) so I made a note of his white trisuit which I suspected I’d be keeping a nervous eye out for all day. My training partner Alex Jones was also competing. Like with Henry James last year, it was exciting to be sharing the course with a friend in their first ever Ironman, but despite his undoubted ability I suspected Alex wouldn’t really be “racing” on his debut so we might not get to spend too much time together if I was pushing my limit to try and be near the front.
I lined up for the rolling swim start in the second row, directly behind Alex. I also clocked Olaf on the third row, so knew we could race head-to-head without worrying about invisible time gaps. After a long wait with various steam cannons nearly causing some false starts, we sprinted off towards the first buoy. As usual, I lost a bit of ground during this section, but generally managed to track the moves of those around me. I thought I was following Alex at one point, but decided he was swimming a bit slow for me and managed to overtake onto some faster moving feet. It was a really fun swim – in the sea but incredibly well sheltered and even a few accidental gulps of water didn’t taste too salty. At one point the water got so shallow that weeds came right to the surface and we were essentially pulling ourselves through a swamp, so I suppose you can’t have everything.
I stayed happily on my new feet for most of the return leg. Some brief amusement came when someone nonchalantly overtook us both whilst doing backstroke. He put a decent gap into us but at the final turn buoy went off in the wrong direction. Should have looked where he was going… A brief moment of indecision for me as I tried to work out which was the correct way. I picked the right option but lost my guiding feet, who at the swim exit I realised had been Alex all along!
A quick change in T1 and I was sprinting towards my bike directly behind Alex – a familiar position for us, including at our last race in Eastbourne. The first few miles took us through central Copenhagen, with plenty of turns and care needed to avoid potholes and kerbs. There weren’t many athletes visible either in front or behind us, so I knew we must be in a pretty good position and Alex was pushing the pace to make that stick. It was useful to have someone in front to take the navigational strain, although I was surprised just how hard I was having to ride to keep up. This trend continued as we hit the open coast road. In the past I’ve tended to hit the start of the bike harder than Alex but today his pace was relentless. We settled into a familiar training formation, with Alex leading the way and me riding around 30 metres back. I was pushing well above my target power (which itself was a significant step up on my races last year) and knew this wasn’t sustainable for me. I wondered if Alex’s power meter was broken and didn’t realise how hard he was riding – this didn’t fit with what I thought his race plan would be at all.
On the first “hill” I heard a spectator call out something that sounded a bit like “third” – meaning there was probably one more athlete up the road on their own. Alex continued to fly and I was acutely aware I hadn’t gone in front to pull any turns, but frankly the pace was too hot and I’d only end up slowing him down. The best I could do to not piss off my friend was sit an exaggerated distance back, where he was purely acting as motivation / corner guide rather than pulling me along. After 35 miles a German athlete – Niklas – came past and slotted into the large gap between me and Alex. He was also clearly riding stronger than me and as the two of them began to take turns pushing the pace I was reminded of Roth where I burnt too many matches on lap 1 trying to keep up with stronger bikers. I decided to get dropped on my own terms, rather than after my legs had fallen off, and immediately felt happier riding my own consistent power.
My view of Niklas and Alex was completely lost as I entered the second lap, which was now packed with athletes on their first. This provided plenty of motivation and more achievable targets to chase. It was impossible to hold a fully aerodynamic position or consistent power but the micro draft from each overtake compensated for this – riding this lap slightly faster with 20 watts less. As I hit the final straight back into Copenhagen I was pleased to see there was still no-one behind me, but a bit disappointed to hear I was 5 minutes down on third place – even if this was about what I expected after getting dropped at halfway. My legs were getting noticeably tired, but not completely broken like at Roth, meaning I’d paced my effort pretty well. I focused on the fact I was experienced at this distance when those in front might not be. I knew what I was doing, had paced myself well and got all my fuel and hydration spot on. And my bike split of 4:20 meant I’d need about a 2:44 marathon to go under 8 hours. Still all to play for.
Out of T2 and the run course was eerily empty. Sitting in 4th place there was no bike to follow and was a bit unsure which way the course was going to twist and turn. During an early out-and-back I high-fived Alex and calculated he was 4.5 minutes ahead in second place, with Niklas 30 seconds behind him in third. This was confirmed by a friendly spectator who shouted “4 minutes to third”. “What about first?” I asked, “Ha, forget about it, he’s miles ahead, like 10 minutes”. That sounded difficult, but not impossible to overturn if the leader wasn’t much of a runner. One man who definitely could run was Olaf, and I was surprised to see him only 2 minutes behind me. I’d hoped for a bigger gap off the bike and now felt in a really tight battle for a podium place. I tried to focus on my own race with a mantra to keep calm. I’d started off at 2:40 marathon pace, which until a few days earlier would have felt recklessly ambitious. But if Olaf can do it, maybe I could too.
The run was 4 laps, and the first went by without incident. It wasn’t too hot, but I still stuffed wet sponges down my top at every opportunity. Cool is fast. At the start of the second lap the same spectator updated me “Ha, remember you wanted to know about the leader? He’s like 15 minutes ahead now, haha!”. I know you shouldn’t shoot the messenger, but he delivered that one a bit too gleefully. I was on track to finish sub-8 and this guy was going to beat me by over 20 minutes. I was starting to really question the standard of age group racing when Alex told me at the out-and-back “the leader’s dropped out”. That leader turned out to be Emil Holm – a local pro triathlete who’d decided to do the race as a bit of a training day, always planning to drop out during the run. A third place bike pulled up alongside me and the race for first was back on. Keep calm.
I hadn’t closed the gap much on Alex – who I now realised was leading in his debut Ironman. I was absolutely stunned by what he was doing and if the pace I was holding wasn’t enough to catch him, there’s no-one I would rather be beaten by. I settled into a comfortable rhythm. Keep calm. The laps took on a familiar pattern – out and back around the finish line, collect a lap band, cobbles by the harbour, spectators dancing to heavy metal, steep ramp over a bridge, straight section into a dead turn to check time gaps, back into town and over a bridge with live music. Repeat. I tried to balance maintaining focus with taking in the energy of the crowd. For example, I’d high five children holding their hands out, but only if they were on the racing line…
Towards the end of lap 2 I overtook Niklas and moved into second place. Olaf was now around 3 minutes back as I went through the half marathon point in 1:21. By the start of lap 3 the gap to Alex had materially reduced for the first time and by the top of the course I’d almost caught up. As I moved past he asked if I knew the gap to the person behind me, which of course I did because I’d been watching Olaf like a hawk (without letting him see me check my watch every time we crossed over!). I see my friends Paddie and Henry in the crowd as I return into town. Henry shouts “come on” and I shout back. Getting pumped up now, not quite so calm.
By this point, the race was mine to lose. On the last lap, I wouldn’t need to maintain my pace, just avoid falling apart. But I did want to secure that sub-8 finish and wasn’t sure how much spare time was in the bank. I kept checking my heart rate, each time expecting to see it spiking but always reading “Easy” to slightly undermine the effort I thought I was putting in. I still felt really good though and was on course to run the second half quicker than the first. I could enjoy the crowd a bit more and tried to whip up the energy on my final run through town.
The finish line at Copenhagen is awesome and as I entered the red carpet there was a wall of noise. The announcer held out Thor’s hammer, which I high-five (but with hindsight was possibly being offered to carry across the line). No time for that, I’m too busy roaring with the crowd, enjoying my once-per-year release of emotion as all the training and race effort pays off in one glorious moment. I saw Henry shouting again and responded in kind. No need to keep calm now. After crossing the line I saw my time – 7:54:50, with a 2:39 marathon. Much faster than I thought I’d done and that excitement prompted even more jumping and air punching! A lot of time, effort (and money) goes into this sport, so you have to enjoy it when things go well.
I was really happy for Olaf who crossed in second place and celebrated finishing sub-8 just as hard. Then especially for Alex who finished third in a spectacular and record-breaking debut of 8:03 in front of friends and family. Throughout the day it had felt like we were racing together, rather than against each other, and for us both to stand on the podium was a special moment. Ultimately, I just loved the race from start to finish and was thrilled with my performance. Copenhagen is a fantastic city to visit so this is a race I would strongly recommend to anyone!
As far as what comes next, this race both confirmed that I wouldn’t be out of place racing in the elite field, but also that the level of the professionals is something else. I never even saw Emil at this race, and he’d have been showered and back home before I crossed the line had he continued racing to the finish. So whilst my eyes are open to the fact I might not get triumphant moments like this for a while, on balance I do think I should take the opportunity to experience racing with the top guys who I idolise. I’m an age-grouper at heart, but I’ve decided – for next year at least – to try a new challenge in the pro field.
