IMUK report

[Dan B]

‘Woke up’ at just past 3:30. Slipped on my kit and went out to the kitchen tent for coffee, cereal, bananas, water and porridge with honey. Off for transition at 5:00.

Everything went to plan. Into transition, got numbered, one last bottle of PowerAde, dry bag handed in, wetsuited and before I knew it we were herded to the lake. Not a stitch of mist (Sherborne has been plagued by fog in past races), perfect conditions.

The swim: two laps of Sherborne Lake, 2.4 miles
I’m pretty confident in my swimming so I was up near the front, and a little to the left. I could see my tree and sat ready to go. But one thing was missing to the atmosphere – and I could hear, barely, the loudhailer saying something about “30 seconds” – so I started the “Oggy, oggy, oggy” chant.

Then the klaxon and we’re off. No problems with space or kicks or punches, one graze to the face was all. I got into a groove and felt strong, good pulls, really efficient and the buoyancy of the suit meant sighting was a snap. Out of the water, grabbed my glasses and … I was out in just over an hour! I bounced through my transition.

Swim 1:01:09 (223rd)
T1 3:52 (144th)

The bike: three laps just outside town, 112 miles
I ran out of transition with my bike to the mount line and awkwardly stopped, swung my leg over, and clipped in. Before I knew it I was out on the roads, slowly climbing out of town.

The first problem with my front derailleur came at the first big downhill. I shifted up and off it came, dangling on my crank. So I stopped and quickly threaded it on while singing “Hakuna Matata”.

I didn’t have a speedometer on board, as I was going by heart rate. But in the big ring I was picking up speed. Then came the Lyons Gate hill, and I climbed steadily up the moderate grade. (Two more times and it got less and less easy.) I began the descent towards Dorchester. It wasn’t far before shipped chain number two. Stop, off, thread, on & rolling.

(About here I needed a wee. I had heard about urinating while riding – common practice in long-distance triathlon - and I was ready to give it a try. No pretence of whipping it out, just let fly. At first it’s uncomfortable, with it dripping off your legs and into your shoes, but after a couple of times I was used to it and could even stay aero while doing it. I even managed one wee while running! I have to say that afterwards, though, I couldn’t stand the smell, and after rinsing out both bike and running shoes, they still honk a little.)

I wended my way down to the bottom of the course, negotiated the cycle path, fuelled up again at an aid station, tight turn and away we go – and I could see the long climb beginning ahead. Shift down, wouldn’t budge: uh-oh.

I was getting closer and needed to get into the small ring, or this was going to be one tedious climb! I shifted down as far as I dared with the rear derailleur, ‘til I was practically spinning, then tried again. Chunk! Yes!

While climbing for the next few miles and enjoying the sight of a train of single-file riders ahead of me on The Giant, I assessed my shifting situation and was a bit worried. Over the top, gained speed, shifted up, off it came! Stop, off, thread, on & rolling. Then a drag up and … guess what? It wouldn’t shift down! So I ground up that hill, hating every minute of it, and when a friend stationed there yelled “Go!” I was thinking of going home!

Then an ess-curve 14% downhill – I’d been down it once, three years ago. It was fun, I took it full pelt each time and was probably over 50mph easy. A quick up and then the right onto the small loop.

My first time through the small loop I really questioned why I was here. My nutrition was going well, I was making progress, but the small loop took forever and I dreaded having to ride it three times. I shipped my chain again, hit the long drags – finally, finally I turned back onto the big loop, and there was quite a sizeable crowd there with banners and signs.

My second time through the Lyons Gate aid station I hit rock bottom. I couldn’t shift down and had to crawl through, picking up my bottles and bananas, before stopping on the other side and spinning the cranks by hand, which worked. Over the top, another shipped chain, this time with a very loud profane objection! I was hating every minute now but I had the beginnings of a strategy: I had to spin out while shifting down, and while shifting up I had to be very subtle. I tried it a couple of times on the way down to Dorchester and it worked – as it would happen, I had no problems after that, but it did occupy my full attention for the rest of the bike.

As I turned for my third lap I was extremely happy not to be lapped by the pros. I kept up the speed on the downs while staying steady on the ups. It had gone from sunny to overcast and there were a couple of ominous drips near Dorchester, but luckily that was all. Back to the top and at last I could turn for home! So happy to descend into Sherborne, I let my concentration drift a bit and promptly got blown into the opposite lane! I drifted perilously close to the ditch before pulling it back in for the turn onto the New Road and back to the castle. I was in good enough state to slip out of my shoes and dismount while rolling. With a parting crack of “Take that thing away from me!” (Well, it got a laugh …) I was headed for transition again.

Bike 6:19:11 (478th)
T2 3:27 (305th)

The run: two loops negotiated twice, 26.2 miles
Looking at my pruned and pickled feet in the tent I wondered if I would make it through the marathon without some severe blistering. (As it turned out I had no problems.) I managed a shuffle out of the tent and into the “gyratory”, a series of interlocking loops that I suppose were there to make up some distance (one wag shouted to his friends, “I’m getting dizzy in here!”). I gradually got my running legs together for the climb up to the turnaround. On the way down I kept it steady and easy, no need to blow doors. Still, I was through 4 miles in 34 minutes – 3:42 pace – and I had to think a bit about whether that was do-able, and decided to stick with what the heart-rate monitor told me.

Down the rough track back to the castle grounds: rocks and mud, a lot like running around Mitcham Common.

Lap 2 was much like the first, only I noticed I was getting a bit slower and, after I grabbed some pretzels and what turned out to be store-brand diet cola (a huge no-no – we needed full fat for the sugar), which tasted dilute and put me off my food strategy, my gut started feeling a bit odd. I was otherwise fine when I ran out the castle gates, past the 10 mile mark, and through town.

I kept a good pace and turned onto the A30. I met a lot of folks coming the other way. It was confusing whether or not some runners were on their first or last laps. But by that time it was starting to become moot. My gut was feeling more and more unsteady, and the coke that I was planning to lean on for a boost was absolutely revolting. I reached mile 13 at 2 hours dead, and thought, with a bit of luck, I had a chance at sub-11:30, but that 12 hours was a more realistic goal. Uh-huh.

But I was getting ground down by the hills. I hadn’t really paid attention to where the turnarounds were on the second lap and as a result I thought I was nearing the turnaround, only to find another hill in the distance, and an oogier stomach. By the time I found the actual turn at mile 15, I was mentally fried and slowed to a slow walk through the Army aid station (who actually had fat Pepsi, a bit late now).

I walked, criminally slowly, for the next two or three miles, defeated. It took me 15 minutes to sip a small cup of water. I was starting to get cold in the sun and wind. My calves and knees were aching. But eventually I regained my senses and decided to get moving, somehow. So I ran 50 steps and walked 50 steps. That didn’t feel so bad, so I kept it up, eventually running more and walking less, 60-40, 70-30, 80-20, 100-20, …. Back to the turnaround and I revived mentally. The thought of the hills wasn’t so bad anymore, as long as I focused on one small bit at a time.

I got up to 150 steps running, 50 walking, then I thought, “Let’s go to that sign, and from there, 50 steps walking.” It got longer and longer, and all of a sudden I was back at the Army turnaround. Revived once more, and with the mile 21 marker at the end of the layby, I kept up the big intervals until mile 22, where I had enough physical and mental energy back to run it in. (In fact, my pace from 4 miles out was faster than when I began!)

I blitzed through town, through the castle gates and turned for home. I hit the carpet and ran through in 12:23:08 (510th of 1038 finishers).

Run 4:55:24 (686th)

I got my foil blanket and in the hospitality area I loaded up on food (sausage rolls and croissants particularly) and got a long-overdue coffee. Halfway through lunch, I slowly folded in half and attracted the attention of a volunteer, who called the St John Ambulance people over. A little bit later I got wheeled to the med tent, where St John’s workers alternately questioned me and teased me back to health. The hot coffee did the trick, as well as the real food (warmed and blood sugar back to normal).

Got my bike and clothes bags back and hobbled out to our camp. Sorted things out there and, somewhat revived, I walked back to the finish line for the finale. I had a death burger and chips on the way (which I’d been craving early on in the run) and joined the throng by the barriers, watching the last finishers come in.

I’m still buzzing, really. One thing about Ironman that really struck me out there is, you are running an individual race in a sea of competitors, each with their own story of how they trained, why they signed up, how their race went, how they felt afterwards. I'm just happy to have come out the other side.

Dan

[Dominic]

Well done Dan,

The other reports I have read say that it is a hard Ironman course. Have always been tempted but my swimming is rubbish!!!

Respect!

[Nick]

Well Done Dan B.

Puts the rest of us to shame.

Two questions.

1.How long does it take to have your Brain removed before such an event?

2.When they replace your brain do they take away the pain?

Again well done you NUTTER!!!!!!!!!

[Toks]

That sounded way to painful! Amazing, Well done Dan! By the way Nick's right you're a REAL NUTTER

[Dan B]

[quote="Nick"]Well Done Dan B.

Puts the rest of us to shame.

Two questions.

1.How long does it take to have your Brain removed before such an event?

2.When they replace your brain do they take away the pain?

Again well done you NUTTER!!!!!!!!!

[Andrew G]

Well done hardly seems sufficient! An excellent report, even if some of it was a bit off putting whilst eating my lunch.

Each part sounds like it was hard enough, but to string the 3 back-to-back is phenominal. I don't know how you had the energy to walk back to the finish to watch the rest come in.

Nutter? They say it's a fine line between genius and insanity...it may have been crossed.

[Dr Frigo]

That is madder than mad, well done Dan. Did you leave the baby-carrier on your bike?

[Brian Nolan]

Flipping heck - that sounds well tough ! Iron Men indeed..
was it Matt Seaton who said that Tri athletes are sado masochists in 3 disciplines ? well done Dan !

[Dan B]

I'd like to thank Mr Hemming who came through with a 39 and bar tape for me when the chips were down. Not the "Agreeables" for nothing.

Sylv - considered the baby seat but I thought it would be seen as showing off.

Andrew G - it was purely on coffee and adrenaline that I got back to the finish. Very exciting stuff too. I was curious to see who was there and the state of the last finishers.

And if you can't take advantage of the chance to put people off their lunch, you're not writing a proper report!

Brian - I am a masochist in cycling only! Swimming and running are easy ...