For those that don’t know, and Ironman 70.3 distance race consists of the following: A swim of 1.2 miles, a cycle of 56 miles and a run of 13 miles. A total of 70.3 miles. In between these you have a section called “transition” where you change in to the appropriate attire for the next discipline. Every other triathlon I had done previously had the transition from swim to bike (T1) and bike to run (T2) in the same place. The race started and finished in the same location. Ironman Staffordshire starts at Chasewater and ends at Shugborough Hall, so the day before you have to visit both places to first of all register and then deposit the required kit in each transition area. |
Sunday morning and the alarm went at 3am. “Why not start an endurance race with sleep deprivation?” A quick porridge bowl and then out to meet my lift to Shugborough (the finish) to then get a bus to Chasewater (the end). The build up to this race was a faff! After a check of the bike and the ususal pre race evacuation it was off to the swim start. Wetsuit half on, we watched the pros go off, shortly followed by the elite wave. 7:30 soon came around and my purple hatted wave launched themselves enthusiastically in to the water. Temperatures were already warm and it was welcome to get in to the water and start swimming. I remembered to keep calm, as it is easy to get carried away in these things and soon fell in to a rhythm, looking up (sighting) the large inflatable buoys every 7-8 strokes. The first turn soon came and 90 degrees later we were on the longest stretch. This seemed to go on for ever. I’m not great at direction in the lake and felt like I was moving off course but managed to keep inside of the safety boats and not get too lost. the next turn came and we began to head back to the shore. I was feeling a bit tired at this point and had to utter a mantra in my head to keep me going, my arms moving in time to the beat. Drafting in the swim is legal and saves precious energy. I found a pair of feet or two and let them drag me along behind them before things got a little bunched up and then we exited the swim, over the timing mat and in to T1. Someone struggled to find their wetsuit cord so i gave them a hand with it before pulling mine down to the waist (no further as to not break the rules). |
Transition at these events is inside a big tent, you have to find your bag with your bike gear in amongst 1000s of other identical bags marked with your race numbers on pegs. I got to my e.g. 492…it was empty…someone must have knocked the bag off and put it back somewhere else. How could I find it! My bike shoes, helmet, race number were all in the bag without them my race was over! Then someone shouted “492?" A volunteer had got it ready for me! “yes, thank you”, I grabbed it and ran to a chair to get the rest of the wetsuit off, shove it back in the bag and then stick the helmet and shoes on. Then, find the bike, it was between the tree and the generator, well remembered, easily found. You runners don’t know how easy you have it! Out of transition, up to the mount line, on to the bike and then off in to the countryside… |
The bike route starts off going over the dam around chasewater, a beautiful sight, before joining a quick duel carriageway (all closed roads) and then some narrow, windey lanes. The recommendation was to not go mad in the first bit as there were a few surprise turns along the way and you could come a cropper if you weren't careful. This went on for around ten miles before the road opened out and you could settle down in to a steady pace. I hadn’t done as much training as I would have liked for this race and knew I had to have a plan and stick to it religiously. Keep a steady pace, not as quick as you would like to go and don’t get carried away. This, combined with the heat would have been disastrous to break away from. I would regret it if I did. Steady on the flat, don’t push too hard on the hills, take advantage of the decents without the temptation to really hammer it. As always happens in this distance of race, you get caught up and passed (I get passed a lot) but then you will catch people back up and end up with a bit of back and forth. It’s tempting to race these people, especially when they’re saying come on Phil keep going as they go past, but I knew this bike leg was going to be about energy conservation for the run so help back and resisted. |
I’m glad I did because there were some buggers of ascents in the race, especially during the second half where you climb up to the highest point of Cannock chase. I had to ask a fellow rider if we were still on a hill at one point because we had been climbing so long and it had levelled out a bit and I thought my legs were just punishing me for not training enough. I wasn’t going to make it to the run and if I did the run was going to just laugh in my face… Eventually we reached the peak and the down began, ten miles were left of the route and it felt like bliss. Soon, we began to see runners exiting the grounds of Shugborough and it was clear that the bike was nearly done.
Turning right in to the grounds I had begun to unstrap the shoes and get my feet out on top to enable a quick dismount and T2. Passing down the final straight the crowd had started to build up and they were going crazy!!! I soon realised this wasn’t for me but the ladies champion, Lucy Gossage who was pacing down the run course ahead of me. “Go on Lucy” I called as I passed her for what will be the only time in my life. “Go Phil!” I heard to my left and spotted the family jumping and cheering like mad! I was relieved they had made it to come and support! It means so much! Flipping my leg over the back of the bike and coasting up to the dismount line I hopped off and began the trot in to transition "Go Phil, he’s the best teacher!” shouted my humorous tri club coach Pete. I looked to the left and saw the gang cheering me in. |
I don’t know if you've ever tried to run after 3+ hours on a bike? There’s this thing called “jelly legs” where your legs feel like they don’t belong to you. You want to run forwards in a straight line but they just do their own thing, it’s great fun, you should try it… Next, you find the spot where your bike is meant to go, move the bike that someone has shoved there before you and dump yours. You head in to the tent, find your gear, stick your trainers on and head out on to the run.
Darwin wrote about survival of the fittest. This run was just about surviving. 13 miles at the hottest point of the hottest day was going to be a killer. To my surprise, my legs still worked, they felt ok, I had conserved them enough to be able to run a bit. I might make it round in one piece. The first feed station was very welcome. There had been a couple on the bike, time to grab a bottle but just glide through and carry on, hopefully without falling off… Best advice I’ve had for a long race like this, especially in the heat was to walk through the feed stations. Take on board what you need and then carry on, it’s hard to drink out of a plastic cup anyway when you're running. Each one went like this: Two cups of water, straight on head; sip of water; cup of electrolyte, drank quickly; two more cups of water on head and back; some flat coke; and on some of the stations “ICE CUBES” so nice! Shove them down your top and they’ll keep you cool for a bit…luxury! Top tip…if you wear a heart rate monitor and a try suit, the heart rate monitor keeps the ices cubes at chest height, lovely. It did make me laugh as one guy tipped a cup down his own top and then let out a high pitched “Oooh, they’ve gone right down my pants…do you want some…Er…not from my pants…” Thanks mate, I’ll get my own… |
Just shy of two hours after the run started, I passed Shugborough Hall for the final time and turned in to the finish chute, the iconic Ironman red carpet in front of me. Shouts from the left, the Tri club guys, the left, the family! I crossed the line “and here’s Paul…I mean Phil…” cried the announcer. What a welcome! The cheerleaders waved their pom poms and I was done. Done in…But proud, tired and emotional to boot. The food tent after was full of similarly done in people, sprawled around the place, like trauma victims, unsure of whether to have a bit of cake or a pulled pork bap, or to just lie about until someone prodded them to check they were still breathing! A quick massage was a life saver, it was work the day after and this guaranteed me to be able to walk up and down the stairs all day! |
Whenever races happen the volunteers always get thanked, without fail, races can’t happen without them. Ironman is no different, it rakes in a huge amount of money, maybe too much. You can’t wipe your bum without spending a fiver it seems. But the volunteers don’t get paid at all and they spend the whole day in the blistering heat as well! Not many would have completed this race if it wasn’t for the volunteers so hats off to all who contributed and a massive THANK YOU!!!