I’d always enjoyed swimming and cycling when I was younger and thought I might be able to get into triathlon. I’d had a pretty disastrous first attempt when I was 12 – crashing in a field and not able to finish – but when I heard about Ironman UK in Bolton the idea got stuck in my head as an ultimate long-term goal.
I’d always had reasonable stamina for swimming long distances and was getting more into road cycling, including a charity ride from Lands End to John O’Groats in 2014. Whilst in theory this put me two-thirds of the way there, I never thought I could do the run. Whenever I tried I’d always get injuries, not to mention regular bouts of “runner’s trots”…
I tried all kinds of different gimmicks and recommendations online – including things like barefoot running shoes which just left me with crippled calf muscles. What I’d never done was simply accept that I needed to build up extremely slowly. Although my cardio fitness could take me a reasonable way as a one-off, I finally realised I needed to adapt my muscles and joints to running over a gradual period. Whilst living in Edinburgh in the winter of 2014 I did just that – starting with what seemed like pointlessly short 5 minute morning runs which grew towards consistently being able to run for 30 minutes without breaking down. The experiment concluded by running the Meadows Half Marathon in February putting a triathlon firmly on the cards.
I selected the UK Ultimate Half – billed as a fast, beginner-friendly event. Whilst a half ironman might seem an ambitious first distance, I was pretty confident I could do the distances at my own pace and anything shorter felt like it wasn’t worth the effort of buying all the kit and travelling to a race. The logistics and equipment were probably the thing I found most difficult as a newbie, with detailed recommendations for each discipline listed online – half of which I still didn’t own!
I found the cheapest trisuit possible in a sale – only size small was available and I’m pretty sure the shorts were far too tight (although I later discovered “compression” clothes are another staple of triathlon, so decided to pretend the misfit was beneficial). I’d also heard that aerobars were a good idea for the bike, so bought some second hand clip-ons from ebay. I was amazed what a difference these made, adding a couple of mph to every ride, and I suddenly didn’t look like I’d be one of the slower riders after all.
My training plan was not at all educated – just trying to build up to the half marathon running distance again, cycle the 56 miles at the weekend and include some brick running sessions straight after cycling, which was apparently important. Luckily, I didn’t seem to suffer from the “jelly legs” a lot of people talk about straight off the bike – if anything I found I could run better after a cycling warm up than going straight into a discipline I didn’t particularly enjoy…
I couldn’t believe how early we’d be jumping into a cold lake, nor on arrival how many other people were mad enough to be doing it with me. Setting up in transition before the race was pretty intimidating, with all kinds of confident conversation using jargon I still hadn’t learnt and aggressive, expensive looking kit. My steel road bike looked out of its depth surrounded by carbon-fibre time trial bikes, sporting deep section wheels and alien-like aero helmets balanced on top.
Despite this, I was confident for the swim, knowing this was a distance well within my comfort zone. What I hadn’t accounted for was how difficult removing my wetsuit would be in a hurry afterwards, and my calf seized up with cramp as I fought to get my leg out – leaving me pulling grumpy faces at my parents shouting encouragement as I set off on the bike.
The bike course was pretty flat, which suited my heavier bike, and whilst I was far from the fastest took plenty of satisfaction in overtaking athletes with much more expensive kit. Whilst the equipment makes a big difference, I’d always been nervous about investing too much as I didn’t want to give the impression I thought I was at any sort of standard. For the same reason, I’d continued to fight the tide in shaving my legs, which was always a mark of more serious cyclists! I very much considered myself to have no idea, so as a result didn’t deserve all the gear.
My cramp had eased off whilst cycling and I felt OK as I started the run after racking my bike. I didn’t get far though before someone shouted out I’d forgotten to take my bike helmet off! My “race brain” was a bit frantic and forgetting to do all the simple things… After returning the helmet, I set off in earnest on a lapped course of dry trails.
Due to the laps, I could occasionally see the race leader well ahead of me marked out by a cyclist riding alongside and thought how exciting it must feel to be in that position. I had no idea of my place, but was feeling good and managed to overtake someone in a GB outfit towards the end. The man in question later explained to me about the GB Age Group team for amateurs, but at the time was extremely confused thinking this must be a professional having a very bad day.
On crossing the line I found out I’d finished in 4hrs 37mins – 6th overall and the age group winner for 25-29. I didn’t even know there was such a thing as age group prizes beforehand! It was all very unexpected to have a quick moment on the presentation stage, even getting some porridge oats from the sponsor as a prize – recouping a solid 1% of my entry fee.
I enjoyed the experience a huge amount and realised I could be fairly competitive if I invested in some better gear and committed to more training. In fact, looking at my time, I made the simple calculation that a half ironman in under 5 hours meant a full ironman in 10 hours might be realistic (just doubling your half ironman time obviously isn’t very scientific – but I assumed the improved equipment and training would help). I started reading forum posts about Ironman and remember a quote from someone stating “a few seconds in transition doesn’t matter, I’m not going to Kona”. I had no idea what “Kona” was, but a quick google explained this was where the Ironman World Championships were held in Hawaii every October – and qualification was something of a holy grail for amateur athletes.
I found out that the top three athletes aged 25-29 at Ironman UK qualified for Kona and quickly dismissed it. Then a few weeks later it occurred to me that past results must be online, and checked out of interest. My heart rate and adrenaline went through the roof when I realised that my rough target time of 10 hours would have been enough to finish in that top three almost every year at Bolton. I then started to read more and more about Kona and, very quickly, a dream verging on obsession was born. In 2016, I would aim to finish Ironman UK in under 10 hours, with the hope this would get me to the World Championships a few months later….