Sandman “Legend” – completing the series

The Sandman is the last event in the Always Aim High Adventure Series, based in North Wales. After winning at the half iron-distance Slateman and Snowman Legend races earlier in the year, I couldn’t help heading to Anglesey hoping to end my season by completing the set. Setting off on the same drive that had taken me to the ferry for my last event in Dublin three weeks earlier, I arrived to the most scenic race venue I’ve been to. Endless sandy beaches with panoramic views of Snowdonia to one side, the tranquillity of Newborough Forest to the other – all lit up by unseasonable (and un-Welsh) sunshine. I would soon be joined by my biggest ever support crew – with several family members who’d never seen me race before (including a new dachshund puppy) – and I was determined to give them a good performance.

It felt strange setting my alarm for a normal time, with the race starting at the unusually sociable 9:45 due to the tide. This also meant pre-race transition was far from the normal cold, dark affair and I felt very relaxed chatting away to other competitors. That was until the call to head down to the beach came, I went to do my wetsuit up, and the zip came clean off. With the water temperature at 15 degrees a wetsuit wasn’t mandatory, but being officially “nesh” competing as the only non-wetsuit swimmer wasn’t going to be an option! I was hugely grateful to the swim sponsors Aqua Sphere for sorting me out with a loan wetsuit free of charge, and I made it down to the beach just in time to see my supporters and be told “the new wetsuit makes you look a bit chunkier, especially around the bottom”. Thanks Dad.

The weather forecast had been consistently good all week, so inevitably as we looked out to sea waiting for the starting gun we were faced with driving rain, choppy seas and no visibility across the Menai Strait to aid sighting. At least we didn’t have to wait in the water getting cold, instead doing a mass sprint into the water (in my mind aggressive and heroic, on video evidence slightly camp as we tried to hop over the incoming waves). I quickly found myself towards the front and in the rare position of not having any feet to follow, giving me unwelcome responsibility to identify the course myself. The waves made this increasingly difficult, with most sighting attempts yielding only a wall of salt water rather than any yellow buoys. I’d had practise with foggy swim conditions in Ireland, but this time it was combined with a battle against the current and waves. I’m a confident swimmer, but without the usual group swimming machine and little visibility of the shore I felt fairly alone and vulnerable in the sea. This already felt like an adventure. Luckily, I didn’t go too far off course, and made it out the water in second place.

After a quick transition run over a sand dune, the cycle started with a climb up a narrow track covered in speed bumps to the main road. The course was then a single loop around the southern half of Anglesey, beginning with a flat eastwards section to Llanfair PG (of long name fame) and Beaumaris. The forecast had suggested a strong tailwind in this first section, so I was disappointed to see my target power wasn’t resulting in the pace I was hoping for. The later start time meant more traffic on the roads than usual and several frustrating waits behind queuing cars. I was actually riding more cautiously than in training – I didn’t want to take any risks as I had such a big lead in the overall series – so I was able to remain calm from these early delays. I struggled to quite hit top gear in the first 20 miles though, and perhaps this lack of aggression was why.

I was glad to have a few hills and also no raging headwind after the turn at Beaumaris – perhaps I hadn’t been wasting a tailwind on the first leg after all. I’d been riding solo for over an hour before I overtook another athlete, which I was fairly confident meant I was at the front of the course. After not being overtaken on the bike leg all year, I probably felt a bit complacent that I was now on a one-way ticket to arriving at T2 in the lead. This confidence was keeping me relaxed as I sat waiting for over half a minute for cars at a right turn when, out of nowhere, an athlete with “George” on his bib zipped past me and across the junction without having to pause, just as the traffic cleared. My Zen was quickly replaced by righteous indignation at being overtaken in this manner, and I immediately kicked into massively upping my efforts to keep the new frontrunner in sight.

About two minutes later, a sharp pain hit me in the neck and I knew immediately I’d been stung by something nasty (or, equally, I’d cycled into it…). I could feel the barb still stuck by my throat, but decided it was better to leave it in there than risk making things worse with some blind treatment at 24mph. It’s strange to suggest being stung helped, and I didn’t appreciate swelling up to look like a bullfrog the next day, but it certainly added another kick of adrenaline. Combined with some caffeine tablets, the pain drove me to dig even deeper to try and keep George, wearing bright orange, in sight ahead. Despite this, he was gradually building his lead and eventually disappeared out of view. I continued to push hard, now in a blind chase, trusting that if I could sustain this effort I should be within two minutes at the start of the run. Having come back from a similar deficit at Snowman, this would still give me every chance. Just as I was reconciling myself with this, he appeared on the horizon and over the final five miles I was able to reel him in – descending the final winding section back over the speed bumps just a (draft-legal) few metres behind to roll into transition only three seconds adrift.

After a slightly quicker T2, I’d converted this into a nine second advantage, and spent the first few miles of the run repeatedly looking over my shoulder hoping to see the gap grow. Unfortunately George was holding steady, and I couldn’t help slipping into a victim mentality about how annoyed I’d be if he ended up winning by less than the time I’d lost at that junction… Eventually I shook myself out of it – he’d been riding faster than me, would have caught me regardless and wherever that had happened I wouldn’t have got myself into a better position than I was in now – leading the run, with the race mine to lose. I didn’t have any real tactics, just to not let him gain any ground that might give him encouragement and to match any attacks he made. Essentially, to refuse to let go of the lead no matter the effort it took.

As with the Slateman and Snowman, the run was unique, technical and scenic. Twisting trails through Newborough Forest, sharp hills and plenty of deep sand kept things interesting. The Sandman was certainly living up to its name and I was glad I’d worn trail shoes with aggressive grip. I felt a stitch developing early on and decided not to eat or drink anything on the run – preferring to risk dehydration or burnout seeing as this was, relative to Ironman, a short event. My lead was slowly increasing, but by margins that were hardly enough to notice – let alone to relax. 20 seconds after three miles. 40 seconds after six miles. Things were moving in the right direction but George was still on my tail, with a gap that could easily be closed within a mile if either I dropped off or he stepped it up. I didn’t know if I could sustain my pace or whether my rival was holding things back – it was still all to play for.

By the second lap we were joined on the course by athletes in the shorter “Classic” distance race, which provided some welcome company. I was enjoying the run more than any I can remember – the varied terrain, bending course and intense competition making it great fun. Entering the last four miles I seemed to have pulled further ahead and could no longer see George behind me – I felt it should be in the bag, provided I didn’t overdo things from here. Which is, of course, exactly what I went on to do… After a mental lapse where I must have overtaken an athlete in orange without noticing, a routine check over the shoulder convinced me that I’d been reeled in and George was on the attack just behind me! I proceeded to counter attack, putting in a massive, and ultimately unnecessary, effort over the last two miles to pull away from this non-rival. Luckily, I had enough in the tank – actually recording a faster second lap than the first – to make it across the line, ultimately with a few minutes to spare.

I was absolutely delighted with my performance and to have won all three Legend distance titles. I even managed to lift the finish tape at the first time of asking, following pretty clumsy attempts at the Slateman and Snowman earlier in the year. I was also pleased to win for my supporters – especially Jasper the dachshund who’d earned an army of admirers whilst I’d been out racing!

The Always Aim High Adventure Series was an incredible set of races – I genuinely couldn’t pick a favourite as each has its own unique charms and challenges. I’d encourage any triathlete to try them all! Sandman marked the end of my races for 2019 – a “rest season” from full iron-distance which turned into a breakthrough year, marked by five really successful events. I’m not sure if this proves I’m better suited to half-distance, or whether my results were simply down to better training and choosing hilly courses that play to my strengths. Either way, my plans for 2020 – including a return to full distance – should help me find the answer and I couldn’t be more excited for the adventures ahead.