A few months after signing up for Challenge Roth, and having just taken out cancellation insurance for that event due to an Achilles injury, I received an email from Ironman promoting their new deferral policy – allowing entries to be delayed a year up to 1 month before race day. Having always wanted to experience both the legendary atmosphere and challenge of Ironman Wales, I took the strange decision to sign up for my second iron distance race of 2018 whilst still unable to walk without limping.
This optimistic bet on my future fitness / injury recovery paid off, as not only was my Roth insurance wasted but I made it to September 2018 feeling good and ready to “face the dragon”. I’d even managed to spend a weekend in Tenby beforehand to reccy the bike and run course. The bike is split into two loops, one completed once, the second completed twice. Although I didn’t double up on the second lap (or perhaps because of that…) I was slightly underwhelmed by the amount of climbing compared to its reputation. A couple of very steep climbs at the end which would hurt tired legs, but most of the climbs were gradual and could be attempted in the aero position. The run was tougher than I’d expected though, with four laps straight up and down the hill out of town. I made a note to increase my hill training – reading up on best technique to run quickly downhill to see if I could gain any free time on the long descent.
Arriving in Tenby on race weekend I was immediately blown away by the enthusiasm for Ironman. It’s rare for races to be in such small towns, and Tenby fully embraces the occasion and its athletes. There’s a strong contingent of local participants (completing the Ironman seemed to be a rite of passage for many in the area) and everyone seemed to be in awe of us for what we were taking on – even before we’d earned the bragging rights of completing it! Whether it was banners, artwork, novelty bakery items or just people in the street offering you a free beer, I’ve never seen a community embrace a triathlon so much. Whilst the scale of the event village and number of participants couldn’t compete with Roth, the local excitement was unparalleled.
Welsh weather in September was always going to be a gamble and as we racked our bikes the day before were warned of strong winds and rain overnight. I put a bin bag over my chain hoping it would provide some protection and not act like a sail to catch the wind even more… After the usual 3am start on race morning I was relieved to find my bike hadn’t blown away, and that the forecast was for only modest wind and occasional showers – about as good as could be expected!
T1 is located about 1 km from the swim start and wandering through town towards the sea was surprised how many spectators had made it out before dawn. The swim would be a self-seeded rolling start, and I must have been a bit late down as I found myself stuck fairly near the back of the queue. Alongside another latecomer, we managed to shuffle our way forwards along the zigzag steps to the beach, until we reached a marker for the “1 hour” estimated swim time. Waiting for the start is always a mix of nerves and excitement, but emotions were stronger than ever as we watched the sun rise to the sound of an opera singer – plus a good few hundred supporters – singing the Welsh national anthem.
The sea swim involved two triangular laps, starting and finishing at the prominent Goscar rock. Having built this up into being a horrible stat to the day – with choppy waves, strong currents and jellyfish everywhere (based on past reports and my own experience the previous month), I was pleasantly surprised to avoid all of these. With the rolling start removing the usual early fight for position, it was all very civilised and I was pleased to be out the water – fumbling with arm warmers on the run through town towards T1, within an hour.
I was prepared for the headwind that greeted us for the first 20 miles of the bike heading due West towards Angle and still enjoyed the relatively slow progress. I routinely swapped positions with a French athlete who I would overtake on the hills, only for him to routinely come past shortly after. On my third climbing attack he shouted “Stephen, you are so strong!” and I replied something along the lines of “No, I’m just stupid”.
This proved to be pretty accurate – my friend soon disappeared ahead on the fast, tailwind-assisted return to Pembroke. Meanwhile I, having already started to overcook my efforts on the initial loop, continued to push too hard on the first of two hillier laps remaining. Whilst the course is mostly rolling, there are a few steep sections where it’s hard to avoid going into the red – none more so than the 17% climb at Wiseman’s Bridge, shortly followed by “Heartbreak Hill” out of Saundersfoot. The crowd support on the latter was a huge boost / increased my stupidity – giving a kick of adrenaline to try and show off and go as fast as possible!
By the final lap, I had the frustrating feeling of moving backwards as a succession of smarter athletes came cruising past. I’m not sure if it’s possible to truly manage your effort on some of the steeper hills, but I definitely could have done a better job at pacing. Certainly, hitting Wiseman’s Bridge completely drained, with more than 100 miles in the legs, the end of the bike course felt like it had turned into a survival mission.
Fortunately, it’s possible to coast the last couple of miles downhill into Tenby, and this break – combined with a change of discipline – meant I seemed to have new legs on the run. I set off feeling surprisingly strong, enjoying the climb out of town and even more so the downhill sections where I seemed to be gaining ground using my newly-learned technique tips – leaning forwards, arms out for balance, looking straight ahead whilst tensing the core. I’m sure I looked pretty silly, but it seemed to work.
Surprisingly, the hardest part came through Tenby itself. I think there was a bigger gap between aid stations here, so these sections must have coincided with energy troughs, as despite the overwhelming support from the town I consistently had my lowest moments here – especially seeing some pro athletes turn off to the finish line when I still had one more lap to go… Whilst I usually enjoy playing up for the crowd, there were almost too many supporters this time. I felt bad ignoring the vast majority of people reaching out for high fives or shouting my name – I could only seem to focus on suffering and getting the job done.
Pushing hard on the final descent towards town, with only 3 miles to go, I felt good and started to feel a bit complacent that the job was done. I must have lost a bit of concentration, as picking up water and running proved too much for my brain to cope with and I failed the running part – landing on the side of my foot with a shot of pain through my ankle. I shouted out involuntarily and limped a few strides with downhill momentum, before realising I’d got away with it and – with no serious damage done – the adrenaline should see me home.
Despite going off a bit fast, I’d paced the marathon pretty evenly and after a morale drop at lap 3 managed to speed up again on the final lap. I was really happy with my performance across all disciplines – perhaps not pacing the bike well but knowing I’d given it my all without blowing up spectacularly. Celebrating a race well run, the end of a successful season and just the joy of being healthy to compete – all alongside thousands of supporters – I let my emotions go on the finishing chute. So much so, that 220 Triathlon magazine ended up using my photo as part of a feature on the finish line experience (my first – uncredited – appearance in print to date…)!
I’d ended up coming home in 10 hours 16 minutes and 4th place in my age group. Without any real time or position targets (other than a vague idea it would be nice to get a podium trophy) these were largely irrelevant against the feeling of racing well and enjoying the experience. It felt on a par with my performance at Bolton in 2016 where I finished 3rd in age group, but without the pressure of trying to earn a Kona slot (I’m not sure how many places there were in Wales, but I’ve not really got the desire – or finances – to try and repeat that trip).
2018 was a great return to triathlon for me – achieving my first race win and completing two iron-distance events with famous support at Challenge Roth and Ironman Wales. I’d have to rank Wales as the best of the lot and my favourite event to date. I wouldn’t rule out racing in Tenby again one day, but for now want to focus on finding new triathlon adventures