Lakesman 2018

I am a Lakesman. I have completed an iron distance triathlon. I am an iron distance triathlete. I can't quite believe it. This journey was around 7-8 months in the making. Months of training, compromises, tiredness, overcoming all sorts of things, from lack of bike confidence to lack of self belief. I have had support from so many people; Ellie my coach, Emma my osteopath, Georgina my sports masseuse, my triathlon club 3 Counties Triathlon, my husband Dean, parents, friends and the people I teach. And now it's all over. It's taken me a while to even know how to begin writing about it and now I've started I suspect this may be a long post... bear with me!

The week before the event was a busy one. I had all the usual work, my last few training sessions plus packing to do and cover, cancellations and cat sitting to arrange. And then suddenly it was Friday lunchtime, I'd taught my last class, Dean had fixed the bikes to the roof of the car, we'd thrown last minute things into bags and we were off! It was a long drive to Keswick and we arrived much later than we'd intended but it was quite wonderful, seeing the landscape change the closer we got. The peaks grew bigger alongside our fears about the elevation for the bike route. On arriving at our guest house, our host, a friendly and modest 6-time Everest summitter, was out of the door before we were out of the car, offering help with parking and bike space in the garden. We spent the evening in a tapas bar, one of the only places still serving by the time we walked the 10 minutes into town, drinking wine, sharing nachos and talking to other holiday makers before retiring to our beautifully decorated and comfortable room, one of just four. One of the others was occupied by another couple there for the event so there was much sporting talk around the breakfast table.

After breakfast on Saturday morning we walked ten minutes to race HQ, the Theatre by the Lake to register; a quick and easy process. After that we bundled into the car as the rain started to fall, to drive the first 40 or so miles of the bike route, to prepare ourselves for what lay ahead the following day. The organisers have done a great job in minimising the elevation for the bike (and run) leg, whilst still providing an interesting route. There are hills, but nothing worse than I'd already tackled in training, and with a 40 mile section of almost flat road in the middle of the bike route to break it up. We saw some other poor souls out on a different triathlon in the pouring rain and crossed fingers that the report of dry weather for Sunday would hold true. The recce put my mind at ease and the rain (mostly) held off for racking kit and bikes later that afternoon. We went to the obligatory briefing, had a mooch around the town and ate a hearty meal at an Italian restaurant (booking is essential on a triathlon weekend) after which we relaxed in our room, winding down and dozing off early.

Four A.M... the alarm went off. Coffee, clothes, breakfast, kit bag, out the door. A slow amble down to race HQ. Check the bikes, make minor adjustments to nutrition set up, apply wet suit, look out across the lake at the hills rising up on either side. This was it. Just before six A.M. all 400 full distance competitors waded into the shallows of Derwentwater. It was about 18 degrees and crystal clear. Despite being a mass start, it was wide enough that I was spared the usual violence and was able to get space, remain calm and find a rhythm quickly. 2.4 miles is a long way and I am certain I swam the course wide. I didn't always find it easy to see the next marker buoy and occasionally got distracted by the scenery. So it was a little over an hour and a half later that I hauled myself out of the lake and stumbled towards transition.

I saw Dean coming into transition just as I was leaving to collect my bike; it was really good to see him, if only briefly, and I fully expected him to overtake me on the bike course. The first 40 miles held no surprises. The weather was dry, the road surfaces excellent and I felt equipped to deal with all the hills. There were five feed stations on the route, one of which we passed twice on "the lap", which helped to break the cycle into more manageable sections. I started eating after about 15 minutes and refreshed my carb drink at feed station two. I saw Dean on a switch back and felt good about the speed I was managing. The hills petered out as we entered an industrial section. I stopped at feed station three for a comfort break and to take on a more substantial amount of food. Next we had a lovely stretch of road along the sea front. I think there was a bit of drizzle but not enough to damped spirits. Then came the start of "the lap", one section of the route we would have to do twice, and the headwind. Miles of headwind. I started to feel fed up, a bit light headed, and my right knee was starting to ache. I decided to stop at feed station five.

As I pulled in a volunteer grabbed my bike to steady it as I clambered off and then looked a little bewildered as I promptly burst into tears. More volunteers appeared and ushered me to a chair as I tried to explain that I often get like this when tired and hungry. I was given bananas, bits of cookie and carb drink while I regained my composure. The person who had my bike even asked if I wanted him to stop my Garmin! We had a chat about how I was feeling, which was low, tired, wobbly, nervous about whether I'd make the bike cut off time and then having been fed, watered and given a pep talk about how I shouldn't waste my energy thinking about the cut off at the moment, I was sent on my way with a bento box topped up with energy bars and chews, a fresh carb drink and a promise that when I came by next time I'd get stocked up again.

The next 16 or so miles were hard. I realised that I had never started a bike ride with an energy deficit  of an hour and a half like I had that day, and so even though I'd fuelled as I had in training, it wasn't enough. I started eating every mile but still had to fight back tears as the head winds reduced my speed to single figures and my knee ached more persistently. I was so glad to see the flags of the Carlisle Tri feed station coming into view once more. Once again I pulled in, started crying and was ushered back to the same chair. A memorable moment was having a cup of coffee in one hand, a banana in another and a lady trying to feed me chocolate chip cookie! I was given pain killers for my knee and a super duper pep talk. I must have had four or five people around me at one point, looking after me, consoling me and convincing me that I could do it, would do it. As I eventually got up to set off again I got the most wonderful hug from the young daughter of one of the ladies there. I am positive that without Carlisle Tri, I would not have found the strength to complete the bike.

With the promise that it was only another 20 miles (although my Garmin said it should be 30) and that they would see me on the run course, I left Carlisle Tri with renewed determination. 20 miles ticked by and I saw the final feed station, but I didn't stop, I only had about ten miles to go. I had a couple of other people in my sights and despite seeing 4pm come and go, I tried not to fret. I had a handful of miles back to Keswick and the landscape was becoming familiar again. Finally I rolled into transition again and set about changing for the run. One of the marshals came over to check I was ok, although for a moment I thought she was going to stop me going out on the run. She offered me food and even helped pack my dirty kit away. My quads started to spasm but the knee felt fine and everything held together as I started to run, with some surprising speed.

If you had told me, explicitly, at the end of the bike section, that I had to run a marathon, or for 5 hours, even though it's my strongest discipline, I may had just thrown in the towel there and then. But as it was, I had five laps to do. Each lap was broken up with three feed stations (I religiously took some cola and crisps at each one) and lined with supporters which made it far more bearable, from a mental perspective. True to their word, the ladies who had looked after me at the feed station were towards the end of the lap and gave me an almighty cheer. Although everyone had their name on their race number, I was wearing my Anthony Nolan tops with my name in big letters so was getting more shoutouts than most, another thing I highly recommend.

On my second lap I saw Dean. I'd been pretty sure he'd have overtaken me while I was having my meltdowns so it wasn't a surprise. However I think I surprised him, not only be being behind but also by shouting abuse at him as we passed on a switchback. I did become kinder on each occasion we saw each other mind you. I only glanced at my watch to see what speed I was doing, clocking 2h23 for the half marathon distance. Once I had three laps under my belt I knew this was it, I would finish. I'd over taken Dean, who was struggling with knee and foot pain. The number of people on the course was fast dwindling but those still out were being ever more encouraging. There were extra big cheers, and a couple of hugs, from supporters on my last lap and then, finally, I turned the last corner to run down the red carpet. Hands came out to high five me and I saw a finishing tape held out under the arch. I'd done it! I'd finished! It was about 9:15pm and I'd been on the go for over 15 hours.

I didn't cry, although I'd expected to. Dean crossed the line a few minutes later, giving me time to compose myself and chat to other finishers. I got changed and we hit the catering tent. The food was wonderful but I was having a hard time eating anything; my stomach was feeling incredibly sensitive. I managed a jacket with cheese and Dean forced a few mouthfuls of Cartmel sticky toffee pudding into me (for which I am eternally grateful). The lead technical official brought me tea and cola, someone else lent me a wrap for extra warmth as I'd started to shiver. It all started to sink in. Someone had accidentally left with my kit bags (I got them back the following morning) so I only had my bike to wheel back to the guest house. We couldn't face the prosecco we'd brought for the occasion, or a shower, so I curled up on top of the bed, in my warm dry clothes and tried to sleep. I think we "rested" rather than slept; every muscle felt sore to the touch and my teeth were super sensitive from all the sugar.

Time and distance lends charm to events but I can honestly I had the most amazing day. The event is only three years old, with 2018 being the first year they've held the half distance as well, but they do so much right. It's friendly, with everyone doing as much as they can to help you finish. Had I been taking part in an IM official event, I would have been stopped from going out on the run. As it was, I was in good enough nick to carry on so they let me. Every marshal, volunteer and supporter is worth their weight in gold. The course is pretty, the feed stations well stocked, catering excellent, medal weighty and finishers shirts rather stylish. Transition could do with being a bit bigger with the half competitors there now too but I think that's the only thing I could fault. As a first event you couldn't do much better. We want to go back to do the half distance event, so that we can spend more time enjoying the area, perhaps even doing some walks while we're there.

A week on and it's still not really sunk in. I am delighted with my time and so so proud of Dean for completing it on less than adequate training but a whole heap of grit and determination. Darling, your mental strength is inspirational! The whole thing feels like a bit of a dream and I owe a huge thank you to everyone who has been part of it. THANK YOU!

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Riding Three Counties and Starlight Swimming

After writing about struggling so much with my positive mental attitude last time, I'm happy to say that I'm in a much better place now. There have been a few things that have been instrumental in this change...

I was still suffering with my outlook up until Wednesday last week, when I met Cathy for lunch and a catch up. No matter what's going on in her life, she always seems to have something encouraging to say to me; I'm lucky to have people like that in my life. She also has very good ideas that really I should have thought myself but sometimes I just can't see the wood for the trees. Boredom has been a big limiting factor recently so Cathy suggested that it might be worth the effort to travel to somewhere different for some of my runs and rides. A change is as good as a rest, so they say and this proved to be excellent advice. That very day I drove to Thames Valley Park to run 5k along the canal and felt all the better for it. I have also run around the lake we swim at and returned to Bracknell parkrun for the first time in ages. It beats running around the roads of Crowthorne!

That Wednesday also featured my final appointment with my osteopath before Lakesman. We talked about the emotions I'd been feeling as physically I've been doing quite well. Some time was spent releasing my neck and shoulders, she did some cranial work and stuck needles in my shoulder again. She also suggested that I try and find time for some mindfulness or meditation, something I've done in the past but hadn't occurred to me to do recently. So I've re-subscribed to Headspace and have been working through their "motivation" pack. I've also been writing down my race strategy, my motivations and packing lists, all of which have helped me to focus and feel calmer.

All the big training sessions are now firmly ticked off! If you read my last blog you'll remember I wrote about my failed 100 mile attempt and how I was planning another attempt at the 3 Counties Cycle Ride... well I did it! Dean and I set out on Sunday morning, loaded with peanut M&M's and flapjack, to cycle to Garth College in Bracknell to ride the 54 mile loop of the event. It's a low key affair run by the Rotary Club but is always popular and well spoken of. I'd not ridden it before but had been keen to so it was a happy coincidence that it fitted with plans this year. It was a beautiful day, we saw lots of our club mates and friends there and rather enjoyed the route. Although there were some hills, it was nothing like the sportive I'd attempted the week before! All marshals on the route were great and the water stations well placed and stocked.

When we arrived back at the start we were given medals, a certificate, water and a mars bar. I spoke to the organiser to check when they would be packing up, letting slip that we were heading back out to do the short loop again. I figured out that we had enough time, knew that one water station would be closed but the other should be open long enough for us to make it there. It was a hot day and we were needing to top up bottles on the way round. So we set out on the 33 mile loop. Some early signs had been taken down but all the marshals were still in place and we were making good time. However the water station we had expected to be open had closed about an hour earlier than advertised! Luckily the first aiders were still at the stop and were kind enough to give us some water, which we were very grateful for. We certainly amazed a few people when we arrived back at the start for the second time. Our photo was taken and we were topped up with more water before a gentle trundle home again. All in all we covered about 98 miles, close enough to the 100 for me and a breakthrough in how I'm feeling about the cycle leg of Lakesman!

Breaking the distance down certainly helped, as did having the company. I was able to test my nutrition again, practice hydrating on the go and workout which devices would last the course for recording or at least keeping track of my time at Lakesman.

This week things are starting to ease off a fraction. A little voice has been suggesting that whatever I do now will make precious little difference to how I perform at lakes man, which hasn't always been helpful in getting myself out of the door. I've resorted to inviting peer pressure on days like that, posting on Facebook that I don't want to train and then hauling myself out when several people tell me to suck it up and get on with it. My favourite training sessions recently have been my swim/run days. These have been 8x400m in the lake (fast/slow) plus 2 laps running round the lake, 6x400m in the lake (fast/slow) plus 1 lap running round the lake and a couple of running laps of Black Swan Lake at Dinton Pastures followed by the 1500m Starlight Swim.

I took part in this last year and loved it. I mean what's not to like about swimming in a lake as it gets dark, the only light coming from glowsticks, helium balloons and fairy lights? These are still small events but I hope they grow. I wasn't best pleased with my performance, feeling sluggish after the run and coming in 15th out of 24 with my slowest swim in the last three weeks, only just beating a lady doing breaststroke. But it was a great experience and I've something to improve on next time.

This weekend I'll be doing the Secret Gin Run in London with my mum for some light relief before starting to make final preparations for Lakesman. Tapering will be in full effect. I will be rolling, stretching and meditating daily, reviewing my strategy, packing (not just for the event but the spa afterwards too) and looking forward to a floatation session I've booked for Thursday. I'm starting to get excited!!

Week beginning 28th May
Swim : 3,200m
Bike :133 miles
Run : 22 miles
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The Good, The Bad and The Outlaw

As I write this it's just a little over three weeks until Lakesman, my "A" race this year, the big event, the grand finale (although there are a couple of encores in the diary). I'm perpetually tired, moody, and full of self doubt. I'm doing my best to be on form for work and telling my classes what I'm working towards when I'm not teaching them has helped a bit. The little voice in my head oscillates between "I don't want to do this anymore" and "It's only three more weeks - then you spa!" I'm constantly reminding myself of my "why" and frankly I'm a big mess. I'm sure everyone close to me will be extremely glad when it's all over!

But it's certainly not all doom and gloom. In the last few weeks there have been some amazing achievements, not least the 82mile bike ride I undertook on my own one sunny Tuesday. I borrowed a bike computer from Ellie, stitched together three routes from Strava, stuffed my pockets with food and set off. Ideally I'd have joined a ride at the weekend for at least part of the distance but work and such put pay to that so it was "now or never". I don't think I understood at the time just how much mental strength it took, especially in the latter half when I was tired, couldn't face food and passed home on my way out to the last loop. Because my posture deteriorated significantly over those 6 hours, I got a very painful knot in my right shoulder so the last few days before Outlaw Half featured lots of stretching, magnesium oil, massage and pilates.

Week beginning 7th May
Swim : 2,000m
Bike : 85.8 miles
Run : 9.73 miles

Ah, Outlaw Half, now we get to it. I'm usually nervous or excited about events but this time I felt a bit... nothing. At least in the week prior to race day. I'd completed swims, bike rides and runs far in excess of what I needed to achieve on race day. I was relatively sure I'd get a PB and I knew the location, having supported there a couple of years back. But I was tense on the drive up to Nottingham, wanting to get registered, checked in to the hotel and kit organised as quickly as possible so as to allow myself some time to relax. My shoulder was still giving me trouble which I think accounts for most of it, but also, in essence this was just another training event. It didn't feel special. Registration was well organised and straight forward. OSB Events have a reputation for being rather slick and I was not disappointed with any aspect of the event organisation.

We spent the evening with a friend who lives in the area, being offered vast amounts of quesadillas and brioche bread and butter pudding and chatting about all sorts of everything. It took my mind off how I had been feeling and I ended the evening far more relaxed and happy than I'd started. I had the sort of night's sleep I've come to realise is normal before bigger events, especially where an early start is involved, and all too soon the alarm clock sounded the 4am alert.

Attempting to quell race nerves

Kit on, sunscreen, coffee, porridge, out the door. I still felt a bit numb about it all but the sun was rising over the water as we reached Holme Pierrepont, looking absolutely glorious. A good day for a swim. Cars were swiftly directed to parking spaces, bikes decanted and novice and elite athletes alike were efficiently funnelled into the transition area for various amounts of faffing.

Kit duly laid out I pottered around, chatting to people I knew, nibbling on a bagel and eventually climbing into my wetsuit before hugging Dean and heading for transition once more. It was time. The elites set off at 6am and were heading out on their bikes before I started at 6:48am. We had 10 minutes or so to get acclimatised in the water before our start. I've only ever experienced deep water starts so thought I knew what to expect but so large was my start wave that I got a little battered and felt hemmed in until about half way round. I had to keep switching to breaststroke, just to see what the swimmers around me were doing, weaving their way down the lake. After what felt like an age I stumbled out of the water, helped by a chain gang of volunteers, one of whom ran with me towards transition, unzipping my wetsuit for me - she was an angel!

T1 took longer than I planned as I got a bit stuck in my bike jersey. I would have worn a trisuit and done away with most elements of changing were it not for the fact I wanted to wear my Anthony Nolan jersey. So after struggling into it and putting my food back into my rear pockets where it had spilled out I was off out on the bike course. I was mindful of eating and drinking regularly but I was only ten miles in when I started to get bad stomach cramps which unfortunately stayed with me for the rest of the day. The bike course is really lovely, only one real hill to speak of (12%) and extremely well marshalled. It was a sunny day and I was making good progress until after the feed station where I caught up with a couple of ambulances I'd seen go past and a large number of other competitors. A couple of cyclists had come off at different times on the same section of road which was now closed for police investigation. An air ambulance was in the neighbouring field and we were held for up to half an hour, depending on when we'd arrived, before being turned around and diverted, taking in an extra two miles. The marshals did a great job to get us diverted and on our way as quickly as they did but any hopes we'd had of achieving a time were forgotten. There was a more social atmosphere for a while and I leapfrogged with a few people almost all the way back. I joined forces with one of my 3CTri team mates towards the end and we endured the gravel, speed bumps and pot holes into transition together.

Final bit, the run! Again, I changed top, from cycling jersey to running vest but was much speedier. As I'd not managed to eat much on the second leg of the bike course due to stomach cramps, I downed a gel and wobbled my way out of transition and past Dean, who had been panicking, the spectators not having been updated about happenings out on the course. The run course is an out and back along the river then around the lake, twice. There are three well stocked feed stations which are placed so that you pass a feed station ten times on the run, no excuses for getting dehydrated! Sponges were available too, which I made use of for once, it being extremely hot by this point.

My guts were in knots. I managed to run at a very respectable speed for a few miles, sipping water and electrolyte drinks as best I could but had to slow to a walk shortly after I passed Dean for my second lap. I tried to force down some food, a jaffa cake, one crisp and two bites of banana. I couldn't face it. I also couldn't face the thought of doing Lakesman. I was not in a happy place. I stopped in the shade at a feed station where I was looked after by another angelic marshal who fed me flat coke, stuffed a gel in my race belt and promised she'd "be here when you come past again". My legs felt strong so it was frustrating to not be able to run. As one of the few people wearing charity colours I got a lot of support from other competitors which was lovely, but hard to take at the time. Eventually I reached the final straight, a mile down the lake into the finish chute. I shuffled. I ran. I smiled! I'd done it!!

My time was slower than what I'd achieved at the 113 last year, but I'd earned my medal. I collected my finishers shirt and slowly made my way to find Dean. We made our way to the food tent, previously the home to registration, where I was able to choose from three mains and two desserts for my post-race meal, included in my entry. Dean urged me to collect a couple of the pints of Erdinger Alkoholfrie that were being handed out liberally to sip on in an attempt to settle my stomach, or at least get some calories in. Eventually I felt able to eat my meal, sat in the shade and chatting to some more team mates. Once I felt steady I collected my kit from transition and even felt up to my customary post-event ice cream on the way back to the car.

Despite all the things that didn't go to plan, it was a great day. The Outlaw Half is a well-organised and friendly event. I would do it again in a heartbeat and suggest it as a reasonable choice for a first half iron-distance triathlon.

So onward... I've not suffered any aches or pains since the event, just tiredness. I'm trying my best to complete my last big training sessions, remembering why I'm doing this in the first place; to raise funds for Anthony Nolan. Please, please, if you haven't donated already, I'd be so grateful if you could, to support me in this huge challenge and to support a very worthy charity.

Week beginning 14th May
Swim : 5,600m
Bike : 140.8 miles
Run : 19.2 miles

Swimathon, Sportive, Slumps

The last two weeks have been a bit of a mixed bag. The euphoria of Brighton carried me through a few days. Training was meant to recommence on the Tuesday but I felt I needed an extra rest day, so I took it, sacrificing a track/interval session, and felt no remorse. Instead I got pummelled by the lovely Georgina under the guise of a sports massage. My poor thighs!

Wings for my trainers! A celebratory gift from the lovely Cathy.

I actually enjoyed doing a few big swims and I even got out on the roads for a 40 mile bike ride on a sunny Friday afternoon, meeting a friend at Dinton Pastures for some of it.  It felt like a bit of a breakthrough session. Being the slightly more confident of the two of us somehow made me step up a bit so together with being familiar with the route and not having to navigate many junctions, it was a delight. The ice cream at half way probably also helped!

Halfway ice cream at Dinton Pastures

Week beginning 16th April 
Swim : 7,650m
Bike : 73.43 miles
Run : 2.08 miles

It seemed as though I had more time in my days. I was able to read, to go to the cinema and meet friends for breakfast as well as do my training. I was feeling more energetic and investing time in looking after myself. Iron supplements and magnesium spray now feature in my daily routine. There was another visit to the osteopath which was all very positive too. Saturday saw Dean and I take part in Swimathon for the fourth year in a row. It was my second attempt at the 5km distance and I was aiming to improve on my 2017 time of 2:08:11. Under two hours was the aim and I was delighted to complete the distance this year in 1:54:17! Another PB! Training looked to be paying off and I can only thank Ellie Gosling for that.

So where are the negative parts? Well I suppose there are only two dark spots in the last two weeks, one of which has only come to pass this afternoon. The first was on Friday. Ellie had uploaded my next four weeks of training plan into Training Peaks on Thursday night and asked me to take a look. There were some big numbers in there... 75, 90, 100 mile bike rides, and all cycling to be completed on the roads from now on. One swim a week will now be in the lake and I saw many days swallowed up with training. I wasn't wholly unprepared for this, I know what I need to be building up to, but I wasn't prepared for how much this played on my mind all through Thursday night, leaving me tired and overwhelmed on Friday. I tried and tried to turn it around. In the end a sob, a big bowl of pasta, a glass of wine and a resolution to only think a few days ahead seemed to work.

Wise words from Des'ree

The second dark spot has crept up on me this afternoon. Following on from Swimathon yesterday Dean and I were both signed up to an Evans Cycles RIDE IT event today. We'd booked the medium distance or 60 miles to fit in with my training plan and dutifully landed bikes into the car and set off for Pangbourne just after 8am. It was cold and the skies threatened rain that came to pass quite early on. We got to around 10 miles with numb toes, rain covered glasses and an intense desire to go home. We'd layered up but it wasn't enough against the headwinds and side winds (no tailwinds of course). A niggle in my arms picked up on the swim the day before was making itself known too. At the feed stop at 19 miles we decided to drop down to the short route of 34 miles. Not what I'd set out to achieve but I reasoned with myself that it was still time in the saddle, I'd been stronger on the hills, better with gears and fuelling and so not all was wasted. In those last 15 miles I got panicked in slow moving traffic, almost came off my bike on a hill, was less than sensible at junctions just to avoid having to stop and unclip to the point where Dean has threatened to swap my cleats back to toe cage pedals. And so I got back to the car feeling it had been the right thing to do. I'd made my peace with not completing 60 miles.

The route map. 

Then we reviewed our training diaries from 2017. This time last year Dean and I had done parkrun *and* Swimathon on the Saturday followed by a 65 mile sportive in the New Forest on the Sunday. Suddenly I felt as though I was so far behind where I was a year ago, wondering whether I should be giving up on Lakesman. But my overall training volumes are bigger. My times have improved left right and centre. And I remember how different it felt on the bike in the sun just last week, to in the rain and wind today. The weather makes such a huge difference, not only to effort involved but mental state. So I will be resting for the remainder of the day and carrying on tomorrow. New day, new achievements. I've been very honest about how I'm feeling in this post, but there's no point hiding it. This is what Ironman training is like, ups and downs, doubts and euphoria, and it has to be just one step at a time.

A medal. Not wholly earned?

Week beginning 23rd April
Swim : 8,000m
Bike : 59.63 miles
Run : 5.2 miles

I've raised a total of £592.48 so far - thank you to everyone who has supported me so far. There's still a way to go but I appreciate all the support for me and Anthony Nolan.I'm lucky to be able to do what I do, not everyone can.

Event Review : Brighton Marathon 2018

Oh I do like to be beside the seaside! We (my parents, Dean and I) arrived in Brighton on Friday afternoon. It was sunny and we had plenty of time after checking into our hotel to wander to the race village by the front to collect our race packs. It was happening. Dean and I were running the Brighton Marathon, him for the first time, me for the second and with a time goal in mind. I was feeling oddly relaxed, but I may have been the only one.

Friday afternoon seemed a good time to be at the race village. It was in the same area as the finish would be so it gave us a chance to check out the food trucks, massage tent and merchandise stands before collecting our packs at the far end. Numbers were allocated as you arrived, allowing you to choose your start pen based on how your training had actually gone, not how you had hoped it would go. We also got commemorative timing chips (which we got to keep) and a "competitors" t-shirt, rather than a finishers one, which I rather liked even if it was a tad short. This t-shirt was supplemented with some additional purchases on my part (and some treats from mum - thank you!). 

All the important things done, we took some time to sit on the beach before making a start on our carb loading at The Geese, a pub specialising in sausage and mash... it was divine! 

Mushroom and garlic sausages, colcannon, mushroom and Guinness gravy and cauliflower cheese

It was an utter joy to wake up on Saturday morning knowing I had no appointments or demands on my time. We had a lazy but filling breakfast and determined to make the walk to Preston Park, where the race would start, to check how long it would take and to see what was going on. About 35 minutes later, after a slow amble in the sunshine, we arrived to see the mini mile races taking place; lots of enthusiastic children wearing matching t-shirts and hefty medals accompanied by proud parents. We found our own start line and examined the course map with mum and dad over a cuppa to decide on their spectator spots. 

We took another amble back via race village so Dean could get a last minute massage for neck and shoulders, where I bumped into a host of FaceBook acquaintances (many selfies and group photos followed) and then headed back to our hotel. A bit of good luck meant we managed to get a table in the sun on the restaurant terrace for shakes and nachos. A chance to rest up properly!

The vast majority of people arrived on the Saturday including our friends Cathy and Barry who were staying around the corner and joined us for a bevy in the last dregs of the sunshine. We compared notes on the race village, emotions, how legs were feeling and game plans for the following day. Us runners agreed to meet in the morning to wander to the start together, leaving my parents to have a more relaxed start to their day. Dinner was at the marina... macaroni cheese and sweet potato chips for me! Tensions started to rise as I laid out my kit for the following morning. Alarms were double checked and we both tried to get some sleep. The nerves continued to build.

Then it was here. Race day! The hotel puts on a runners breakfast each year of porridge, yogurt, toast, cereals and fruit before their regular breakfast starts to allow us to get something inside us before heading to the start. I managed to eat fairly heartily but Dean struggled with toast. Where as when we walked to the start on Saturday I'd been using my phone to guide us, there was no need for that on Sunday. A steady stream of runners lead us to Preston Park. Lots of nervous chatter, arms around shoulders and revised agreements of race plans. Once at the start we did the usual loo queues, meeting up with friends and the bag drop. Cathy had a bottle of fizz in her bag for after and amazingly it survived intact! The weather wasn't anywhere near as nice as the previous two days and I was glad on my bin bag to help keep me warm. Huddling in the start pens helped too. There was a big countdown and... we stayed where we were... faster pens being set of sooner. It took us 20 minutes to get over the line.

Bin bag chic

The marathon distance itself seemed to go by in a bit of a blur. That sounds a bit silly but you are completely in the moment, digging deep the closer to the end you get, and there's a lot to entertain you. I commented to Cathy at one stage that there was so much I wanted to remember but that by the end my addled brain was liable to forget it all so we made a pact to prompt each other with as many of these moments as possible at the end. 

These moments included a DJ in someone's front garden and a lady doing "mum dancing" on the pavement, a little boy shouting "GO RACERS" at the top of his voice to everyone, the most enthusiastic shouting I've ever heard from our friend Zena and my parents popping up all along the route with a big red foam finger. There were people in fancy dress, notably a telephone, a stormtrooper, the Moana ladies and Elvis, who I was running with for about 4 miles until it all got a bit too much and I had to push ahead to leave him behind. 

The four of us all had our names on our vests and from the start we were tallying who got the most shouts. Undeniably it was Barry, to the point I considered pretending I was also called Barry. We stuck together until about 8 miles in, as we turned back from the marina, when Dean stopped to eat something. Barry, Cathy and I carried on together for a few more miles, Cathy reining us in around the half way mile where, the crowd being a little subdued at this point, got whipped up by Barry shouting "go crowd!" at them. We started speeding up with the adrenaline. I laughed a lot. There were lots of signs and banners on the course and my two favourites were "May the course be with you" and "I have crabs, no CARBS, I have carbs!". 

We played spot-the-club, shouting out to fellow club members, other local clubs we knew and groups like RMR or RIOT. You could spot the pacers by the big coloured balloons, plastered with their target time, bobbing through the runners. We caught up to the 4:30 pacers who had started ahead of us and I resolved to stick with them for as long as I could. I didn't realise that this lead to me pulling away from Cathy and Barry around mile 14. There was still masses of support up until mile 18 or so, where we headed out to the industrial estate. This is always the hardest part of the course. You've 8 miles still to go, you're getting tired, the support wanes and there's not much to look at. There also a great deal of speed bumps that seem to creep up on you. I'd pulled away from the pacers and missed seeing Cathy and Barry as we switched back in the town but I saw them and Dean on the switchback in the industrial estate which made my heart sing. They were still there! They were doing well but how on earth was I keeping my pace up?

Coming out of the industrial estate, on to the seafront, I started to get more and more cheers from the crowd. I spotted my parents as I got to the last mile. First Dad (I almost cried) and then Mum, waving like a loon. The last mile. I can run a mile. The crowd spurred me on. I saw the Anthony Nolan support group who gave an almighty roar. I passed under the pedestrian bridges and tried to whip the crowd up as Barry had. Most obliged and their shouts carried me the last 800m, 400m, over the line! 

I'd finished! And in under 4 and a half hours! In 4 hours 23 minutes to be precise, a 19 minute PB. The tears I'd held back when I saw Dad didn't burst forth. I collected my medal, pint of Erdinger (I only managed half), goody bag and kit bag. It was cold so I got changed as quickly as I could, just in time to see first Barry, then Cathy. Dean was a few minutes behind. I was immensely proud of everyone. There was much hugging, a few tears, and an intense desire to get back to the warmth of the hotel for celebrations. 

There was some well-deserved fizz and proper analysis of the race, salt baths, stretches, clean clothes and a hearty meal. The race organisation was really good, in my opinion, although I think , given that the founder of parkrun started the race, they missed a trick by not having a "one park run to go" sign at the appropriate spot on the course. A few days later and my legs have been pummelled by my sports masseuse and I'm feeling fairly recovered. I'm already back into training, with a focus on swimming and cycling, preparing for Swimathon on the 28th and the events beyond. I'm trying to look after myself with lots of good food, extra iron supplements and resting when I can.

You can still donate to the cause via Just Giving, either for efforts thus far or for the upcoming Swimathon, half or full iron triathlons. Good luck to everyone running London this weekend. It's going to be a hot one but oh so wonderful.

Race Recap : Wokingham Half Marathon

My first event and target for the year has been ticked off the list. On February 18th I, along with a couple of thousand other people, took part in the Wokingham Half Marathon. I'd set myself the challenge of a sub 2-hour half marathon but it became clear in training that I wasn't going to be able to maintain the speed to do that so I re-adjusted my goal to achieve a PB, anything below 2h10. It had been a long time since I'd been quite as nervous before an event.

In the week and a half leading up to the event, my training went mostly to plan.
Thursday 8th - Rest day
Friday 9th - 1750m swim
Saturday 10th - Zumba Basic and Zumba Gold instructors course. A 10 hour day with a lot of dancing but I'm now qualified!
Sunday 11th - 1hour ramp run and an hour on the bike
Monday 12th - 1950m swim
Tuesday 13th - 45 minutes of fartleks and a couple of easy miles in the evening with clients
Wednesday 14th - Got talked into skipping track my the husband in favour of a Chinese take away on the sofa for Valentines day.
Thursday 15th - 1h10 on the bike
Friday 16th - 1hr on the bike and 1750m swimming
Saturday 17th - Rest day
Sunday 18th - RACE DAY!

The race started at a very civilised 10am. Car parking was located around the town with a 10-15 minute walk to the start. We ended up cutting it slightly fine with just enough time for me to visit the portals (plentiful) and Dean to do the bag drop. Lots of people, a well set out race village and plenty of shouting from the Race Director to tell us how little time we had left before the start. I placed myself roughly where I thought I needed to be in the start pack, Dean placing himself some distance behind me so I could concentrate on my race. We took about 3 minutes to cross the start line and it felt as though there was less jostling for position than usual. There was plenty of support along the entire route, from marshals, clubs and general public. It was a closed road event, on wide roads, country roads and taking in two motorway flyovers... twice. Otherwise it was largely flat.

I was aiming for 9:40 per mile for the first 8, which I managed relatively comfortably, edging a little quicker at times. Then miles 9-12 fell apart. Rather than speeding up I was taking an extra 45 seconds per mile. Shocking. I tried to dig in, pick my heels up, took my gel slightly earlier than planned... nothing worked. I feared a repeat of Oxford Half Marathon. A couple of shout outs helped but the photos from the race show grimaces and appalling form. Eventually I hit the last mile. A couple of women I knew drew alongside and told me Dean wasn't far behind. I swore a bit. I kept the feet moving as best I could, sped up a fraction and crossed the line taking 2 minutes off my previous PB time. And promptly collapsed on a nearby fence.

Dean crossed the line shortly afterwards, having completed the course in 2 hours 6 minutes to my 2 hours 8. We gathered medals, space blankets and bags (no goody bag for this event) and hobbled back to the car. I have to admit, despite the result I felt disappointed with my performance. It shows I rarely truly race events, completing them in relative comfort. And that's fine. If I do that from now on (after the events I've got goals for this year) then so be it. I'd rather still enjoy running than fear it. But it has opened my mind to what I can achieve.

I've learned a few things from the race:

• Pace at the beginning of a race is crucial, especially when racing
• Setting A, B and C goals helps to avoid disappointment, and sometimes that means readjusting goals before you get to the start line
• It's hard to train for speed whilst training for endurance events
• I am capable of more than I thought and with some more training a sub 2-hour half marathon is possible
• I need to work on improving my running form 

I ran the event for the Anthony Nolan charity. I'm trying to raise £1,500 for them via my events this year and I would be so grateful if you could spare a few pounds for the cause. You can find my Just Giving page here: https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/vikki-robertsan

The next event is Brighton Marathon which I'm aiming to complete in 4 hours 30 minutes. Why not donate the amount equivalent to the time you think I'll actually run it in? For example £4.30 or £4.40. If you get it spot on I'll send you something as a thank you!