Saturday, June 12, 2010
Wednesday, June 09, 2010
Happy in Sheffield
Lenny Makes Himself at Home in the New Garden
Sheffield has been remarkably kind to me. In spite of the usual friendly reception from Yorkshire folk, I have mostly nice neighbours who, even if they are a little loud, genuinely haven't thought that music at 10pm isn't "on".
My rides to work take me along the Trans-Penine Trail or around the edge of still lakes on bridle paths that seem miles from anywhere. From work I can go for a run through fields or even get to the gym and the pool.
At home I can go for a "walk on the wild side".
We went to the pub for dinner on Friday night and, instead of going to Cafe Rouge, we stumbled upon the Stag, with a conservatory, oak tables and a sense of rustic middle-class. We found ourselves sitting next to the Sheffield Tri club who were very encouraging and enthusiastic.
Last week when it was warm, we found the only down side to living where we do. Every pub beergarden (loose term) was filled with bald-headed, england shirt wearing, thick-set males complete wtih beer, fags and slappers while others preferred to sit on the wall outside tescos drinking cider and smoking fags with their kids (that was just the women).
We decided that on a nice day we want to live somewhere a bit nicer... somewhere we can walk to a nice pub, not needing to get in the car and drive.
So we went to Nether edge to do the laundry... just to make sure.
My rides to work take me along the Trans-Penine Trail or around the edge of still lakes on bridle paths that seem miles from anywhere. From work I can go for a run through fields or even get to the gym and the pool.
At home I can go for a "walk on the wild side".
We went to the pub for dinner on Friday night and, instead of going to Cafe Rouge, we stumbled upon the Stag, with a conservatory, oak tables and a sense of rustic middle-class. We found ourselves sitting next to the Sheffield Tri club who were very encouraging and enthusiastic.
Last week when it was warm, we found the only down side to living where we do. Every pub beergarden (loose term) was filled with bald-headed, england shirt wearing, thick-set males complete wtih beer, fags and slappers while others preferred to sit on the wall outside tescos drinking cider and smoking fags with their kids (that was just the women).
We decided that on a nice day we want to live somewhere a bit nicer... somewhere we can walk to a nice pub, not needing to get in the car and drive.
So we went to Nether edge to do the laundry... just to make sure.
Guerilla Knitting in Nether Edge
Monday, June 07, 2010
Chester Tri
Following the drowning events of Ashton Keynes I was pretty paranoid about the 1.5k swim at Chester.
Despite some over-distance training culminating in a 1800m swim in the choppy Friday-evening waters of the Rotherham pool, I was still captivated by something Claire mentioned something about tri wetsuits so after much deliberation I committed to charging around the day before the chester tri, trying on wetsuits. On a hot day that is some feat as every one sticks to the flesh in the sweaty heat that builds up between neoprene and skin.
I gave up in Sheffield and headed over to Wilmslow because if there's going to be an expensive yet well-stocked tri shop anywhere, it's in Wilmslow.
6 suits and a very sweaty Trep later a suit that fits though I am still disapointed they failed to keep a stock of medium tall and had to settle for large to avoid being strangled. Still, with increasingly chunky legs and shoulders, I'm sure I'll grow into it.
Exhausted, we drove to Chester to register and drive around the bike course. Very glad of checking the scary climb. Mental note to save some legs.
Early arrival at Chester put me at an advantage of first in the portaloos and an unseasonably early arrival on the startline. This time though it wasn't a problem as I sat enjoying the sunshine with my feet dangling in the water.
Post-briefing, I got the new suit wet and was filled with glee to find my feet floated all on their own.
Although the swim started reasonably politely, I soon found myself (again) next to the really tall very stocky woman swimming breast stroke in my line.
Legs kicking under my belly, I pulled over, left her to it and try to stay calm. The target for Chester was to crawl the distance, staying with the group would've been a bonus.
As a solo swimmer it becomes difficult to navigate through the water. The side to side motion of the head needs to look up from time to time resulting (in a novice like me) in drunken swimming, zig zagging from side to side - from bank to buoys. After the first near-miss with overhanging trees, I got it undr control, though not enough to feel like I'd swum an extra 1/3 distane.
As the lead veteran men passed me (started 10 minutes behind) I realised I was starting to lose the feeling in my feet and calf muscles. Realising I'd probably saved my legs too much I put a bit of effort in (again) to the last 50 m just to wake things up and (again) avoid being last out of the water.
The new suit came off a little slower than the old - mostly on account of my frozen hands and feet. Less time in the water, yes please.
Scouse lady being shouted at by her husand put me off, the distraction of choas and disorganised nature of my neighbour inspired to get me going. I nipped through transition just before they began getting really grumpy about people wearing their number on the wrong side of their body & making competitors wear their clothes backward
Bike. Favourite bit. It's difficult to highlight the challenges of my bike. I spend a lot of the time just enjoying passing other competitors, riding with some of the men. My biggest challenge is to put myself into the wind when all of my bike racing insincts are to draft the person infront.
The big climb passed well with a big heave on the pedals and the usual heavy breathing on my part. The ensuing downhill which we partially missed out in the van the night before was a bit of a crowning glory. In my space at the back, most people are pootling through the bike ride, the same way I pootle through the swim and the run.
The tri bars, originally considered to be a bit of an indulgence have actually knocked minutes off my ride times.
Whether it is the improvement in drive power, the aerodynamics, me getting stronger or the fact that I feel like I look the part, they work. So Phoenix and I raced down the hill, permanently on the drive and on the aero bars until we ran out of twiddle then sailed out the tail-wind.
My thoughts on the ride usually start out with controlling my output to ensure that by the time I get to the end I have legs left for the run. This consideration is interleaved with the conflicting enthusiasm to do the ride of my life. As I tire, that enthusiasm wanes and I remain calm until such time as I realise I'm within the target of 1hr 20mins. At that point all the stops come out and I usually struggle out onto the run (see Ashton Keynes). Chester was no different as I rocked into transition in 1:19.
Dressed and back into the run I was desperate for a wee but thanks to the lovely parkland setting of the Chester tri I was soon able to resolve my issues with a detour into the park facilities.
The run was a real challenge. As ever with me, easy only because it was just a question of getting through it. At least I was not alone as the police teams and senior men continued to stream past me. Oxford Tri club gave me a "stop saving yourself Swindon" shout. He obviously thought I was Claire and wondered why I was dallying around.
TSK made the run as enjoyable as possible, appearing at the road crossings and timing my laps, proud that my second lap was even faster than my first... until I pointed out I had taken a comfort break on the first lap.
On the final approach I tried to focus on staying with the woman next to me. Despite my efforts she surged away from me then, to my relief, headed out on her second lap.
Final result 41:28 (69th) swim 1:19:22 (26th) bike 1:01:47 (60th) run. If I scale up Lymm, that's a ten minute improvement on the bike and the run. I'm very happy wth an equivalent swim considering it was an open water, mass start event.
In terms of position, I was 26th in the bike ride yet over 60th in both the swim and the run. I am aware I can go faster in the swim without drowning, in fact it will keep me warmer. If I wanted to come consistently 26th in every discipline (ie a total time of 2:40:30), it would involve a lot of work. Ironically, since most people have only two good disciplines, this performance would put me 20th overall. Much easier, I decided to aim for half way down the field. So 35th overall. The 35th competitor completed in 2:50:07. Each 35th place discipline would be 32:36 in the swim, 1:21:50 in the bike (nailed already) and 51:59 in the run. It would involve a 10 minute cut in time in running and swimming.
So, there I am, targets set for the next event. They are tough and it's going to take concerted effort to get me there. Good news is, those times together will give me a total of 2:45:45 and would have put me 32nd overall so I have leeway.
Result summary
Despite some over-distance training culminating in a 1800m swim in the choppy Friday-evening waters of the Rotherham pool, I was still captivated by something Claire mentioned something about tri wetsuits so after much deliberation I committed to charging around the day before the chester tri, trying on wetsuits. On a hot day that is some feat as every one sticks to the flesh in the sweaty heat that builds up between neoprene and skin.
I gave up in Sheffield and headed over to Wilmslow because if there's going to be an expensive yet well-stocked tri shop anywhere, it's in Wilmslow.
6 suits and a very sweaty Trep later a suit that fits though I am still disapointed they failed to keep a stock of medium tall and had to settle for large to avoid being strangled. Still, with increasingly chunky legs and shoulders, I'm sure I'll grow into it.
Exhausted, we drove to Chester to register and drive around the bike course. Very glad of checking the scary climb. Mental note to save some legs.
Early arrival at Chester put me at an advantage of first in the portaloos and an unseasonably early arrival on the startline. This time though it wasn't a problem as I sat enjoying the sunshine with my feet dangling in the water.
Post-briefing, I got the new suit wet and was filled with glee to find my feet floated all on their own.
Although the swim started reasonably politely, I soon found myself (again) next to the really tall very stocky woman swimming breast stroke in my line.
Legs kicking under my belly, I pulled over, left her to it and try to stay calm. The target for Chester was to crawl the distance, staying with the group would've been a bonus.
As a solo swimmer it becomes difficult to navigate through the water. The side to side motion of the head needs to look up from time to time resulting (in a novice like me) in drunken swimming, zig zagging from side to side - from bank to buoys. After the first near-miss with overhanging trees, I got it undr control, though not enough to feel like I'd swum an extra 1/3 distane.
As the lead veteran men passed me (started 10 minutes behind) I realised I was starting to lose the feeling in my feet and calf muscles. Realising I'd probably saved my legs too much I put a bit of effort in (again) to the last 50 m just to wake things up and (again) avoid being last out of the water.
The new suit came off a little slower than the old - mostly on account of my frozen hands and feet. Less time in the water, yes please.
Scouse lady being shouted at by her husand put me off, the distraction of choas and disorganised nature of my neighbour inspired to get me going. I nipped through transition just before they began getting really grumpy about people wearing their number on the wrong side of their body & making competitors wear their clothes backward
Bike. Favourite bit. It's difficult to highlight the challenges of my bike. I spend a lot of the time just enjoying passing other competitors, riding with some of the men. My biggest challenge is to put myself into the wind when all of my bike racing insincts are to draft the person infront.
The big climb passed well with a big heave on the pedals and the usual heavy breathing on my part. The ensuing downhill which we partially missed out in the van the night before was a bit of a crowning glory. In my space at the back, most people are pootling through the bike ride, the same way I pootle through the swim and the run.
The tri bars, originally considered to be a bit of an indulgence have actually knocked minutes off my ride times.
Whether it is the improvement in drive power, the aerodynamics, me getting stronger or the fact that I feel like I look the part, they work. So Phoenix and I raced down the hill, permanently on the drive and on the aero bars until we ran out of twiddle then sailed out the tail-wind.
My thoughts on the ride usually start out with controlling my output to ensure that by the time I get to the end I have legs left for the run. This consideration is interleaved with the conflicting enthusiasm to do the ride of my life. As I tire, that enthusiasm wanes and I remain calm until such time as I realise I'm within the target of 1hr 20mins. At that point all the stops come out and I usually struggle out onto the run (see Ashton Keynes). Chester was no different as I rocked into transition in 1:19.
Dressed and back into the run I was desperate for a wee but thanks to the lovely parkland setting of the Chester tri I was soon able to resolve my issues with a detour into the park facilities.
The run was a real challenge. As ever with me, easy only because it was just a question of getting through it. At least I was not alone as the police teams and senior men continued to stream past me. Oxford Tri club gave me a "stop saving yourself Swindon" shout. He obviously thought I was Claire and wondered why I was dallying around.
TSK made the run as enjoyable as possible, appearing at the road crossings and timing my laps, proud that my second lap was even faster than my first... until I pointed out I had taken a comfort break on the first lap.
On the final approach I tried to focus on staying with the woman next to me. Despite my efforts she surged away from me then, to my relief, headed out on her second lap.
Final result 41:28 (69th) swim 1:19:22 (26th) bike 1:01:47 (60th) run. If I scale up Lymm, that's a ten minute improvement on the bike and the run. I'm very happy wth an equivalent swim considering it was an open water, mass start event.
In terms of position, I was 26th in the bike ride yet over 60th in both the swim and the run. I am aware I can go faster in the swim without drowning, in fact it will keep me warmer. If I wanted to come consistently 26th in every discipline (ie a total time of 2:40:30), it would involve a lot of work. Ironically, since most people have only two good disciplines, this performance would put me 20th overall. Much easier, I decided to aim for half way down the field. So 35th overall. The 35th competitor completed in 2:50:07. Each 35th place discipline would be 32:36 in the swim, 1:21:50 in the bike (nailed already) and 51:59 in the run. It would involve a 10 minute cut in time in running and swimming.
So, there I am, targets set for the next event. They are tough and it's going to take concerted effort to get me there. Good news is, those times together will give me a total of 2:45:45 and would have put me 32nd overall so I have leeway.
Result summary
Swim: 41:28 (69th)
Bike: 1:19:22 (26th)
Run: 1:01:47 (60th)
Monday, May 24, 2010
Offline
I've been out of action for some time - internet wise. I've been doing lots of training, lots of moving and quite a bit of racing and I don't really know where to start going back over it all.
Stats, stats are good...
March
Swim: 3.82km, 2.3kph avg
Bike: 267.64km, 17 (!)kph avg, 2363 m elevation, aveHR 144
Run: 28.1km, 9.8 kph avg, HRavg 167bpm, 234m elevation
April
Swim: 0.88km, 1.8kph avg
Bike: 187.62km, 16.6 kph avg, 2798 m elevation
Run: 30.74km, 8.9 kph avg, HRZ 168 bpm
May (and it's not even over yet)
Swim: 3.9km, 2.2kph avg
Bike: 369.05km, 19.3 kph avg, 3907 m elevation,
Run: 22.8km, 8.9 kph avg, 214m elevation
Sunday, May 09, 2010
Ashton Keynes
A sense of fear, panic and drowding. I have been there before. Last time in Penticton. I put my face back in the water to try again. The world before me is dark green and a stream of blue bubbes coarse around my vision. There is a muted throng of splashing sounds echoing in my ears, totally lacking any rhythm. This is what I imagine drowning sounds like.
It's no good. Every stroke needs a breath so I lift my face and as I breathe, green duck-pooey water floods my lungs and someone kicks my arm. I hope an official doesn't hear me swear as I panic and look for the boats.
Last resort, back stroke but my breathing is only controlled enough to permit me to continue in breast stroke. I try unzipping my wetsuit in case it's throttling me but it's the cold that's stollen my puff and only when I get 50m from the finish do I manage a short crawl with my face out of the water in order to avoid being last on to the bank.
I peel down the last of the zip and withdraw frozen, senseless fingers from the neoprene sleeves. The chilly May breeze is warmer than the water and I feel calmer already. I'm glad of Garnier's summer skin moisturiser. It gives me a healthy glow and makes my wetsuit really easy to get off as I srand on the legs and pull my feet out.
Always the cyclist, my shorts give a warm layer, long sleeve top for the breeze, socks, shoes, lid on, gloves. Running in cleats - not so bad on grass. A triumphant leap into the saddle. Time to catch some people - around 30. I eventually drop one persistent hanger-on from Bath. Everyone else seems slow. I am fuelled by this being half of the Lymm distance and TSK cheering me on at Loves Lane.
I look at my time as I enter the closing straight and refuse to do over 35 minutes for a 20km ride so I sprint pointlessly for the line and run, gasping into transition. This sprint lark is HARD!!!
Easy bit. I allow myself to sit for this bit. Shoe change, gloves off. Drink. The helmet is keeping my head warm so I have to go and put that back. On the way out the gates I have to stop to tighten my speedy spoingy laces and inhale some more water from the volunteers.
By now a steady stream of strong runners are catching me up and passing me. Despite reminding myself it's a sprint and will all be over before I know it, the legs won't go any faster. Sadly, the breathing does and I find myself snatching air with every footfall, just as I was 1 hour ago during the swim.
I know I can be a painful hypercondriac at times but not usually during racing. Yet I was wondering how fast they'd get to me if I had a corinary on the far side of the lake. When the marshal pulled alongside on his motorbike in the car park I actually feared he was going to pull me out for my own safety. Still, I managed to continue and, having faught -off the urge to walk I finally get my breath under control for the finish area and start of my second lap.
I actually manage a chat with someone starting her first lap and that's enough to spurr me on. The real racing men are starting to squeeze through and I make room for them, happy enough just to be finishing soon.
Closer still to the finish and I'm ramping-up, looking for someone to race with - perhaps even myself. A few extra seconds, a slightly bette pace, even if it's a man on his first lap that I never ever stand a hope of beating.
There's not really anyone around but I manage a bit of extra pace until a lady making victory gestures to her mates is foolish enough to get close enough and loud enough for a sprint finish. Perhaps that was just in my head. Anyway, you snooze you lose.
Swim: 11:35.07 400m
T1: 4:06.9
Bike: 37:15.6 20km
T2:26:58.4
Run: 26:58.4 5km
Total: 1:21.23.1
It's no good. Every stroke needs a breath so I lift my face and as I breathe, green duck-pooey water floods my lungs and someone kicks my arm. I hope an official doesn't hear me swear as I panic and look for the boats.
Last resort, back stroke but my breathing is only controlled enough to permit me to continue in breast stroke. I try unzipping my wetsuit in case it's throttling me but it's the cold that's stollen my puff and only when I get 50m from the finish do I manage a short crawl with my face out of the water in order to avoid being last on to the bank.
I peel down the last of the zip and withdraw frozen, senseless fingers from the neoprene sleeves. The chilly May breeze is warmer than the water and I feel calmer already. I'm glad of Garnier's summer skin moisturiser. It gives me a healthy glow and makes my wetsuit really easy to get off as I srand on the legs and pull my feet out.
Always the cyclist, my shorts give a warm layer, long sleeve top for the breeze, socks, shoes, lid on, gloves. Running in cleats - not so bad on grass. A triumphant leap into the saddle. Time to catch some people - around 30. I eventually drop one persistent hanger-on from Bath. Everyone else seems slow. I am fuelled by this being half of the Lymm distance and TSK cheering me on at Loves Lane.
I look at my time as I enter the closing straight and refuse to do over 35 minutes for a 20km ride so I sprint pointlessly for the line and run, gasping into transition. This sprint lark is HARD!!!
Easy bit. I allow myself to sit for this bit. Shoe change, gloves off. Drink. The helmet is keeping my head warm so I have to go and put that back. On the way out the gates I have to stop to tighten my speedy spoingy laces and inhale some more water from the volunteers.
By now a steady stream of strong runners are catching me up and passing me. Despite reminding myself it's a sprint and will all be over before I know it, the legs won't go any faster. Sadly, the breathing does and I find myself snatching air with every footfall, just as I was 1 hour ago during the swim.
I know I can be a painful hypercondriac at times but not usually during racing. Yet I was wondering how fast they'd get to me if I had a corinary on the far side of the lake. When the marshal pulled alongside on his motorbike in the car park I actually feared he was going to pull me out for my own safety. Still, I managed to continue and, having faught -off the urge to walk I finally get my breath under control for the finish area and start of my second lap.
I actually manage a chat with someone starting her first lap and that's enough to spurr me on. The real racing men are starting to squeeze through and I make room for them, happy enough just to be finishing soon.
Closer still to the finish and I'm ramping-up, looking for someone to race with - perhaps even myself. A few extra seconds, a slightly bette pace, even if it's a man on his first lap that I never ever stand a hope of beating.
There's not really anyone around but I manage a bit of extra pace until a lady making victory gestures to her mates is foolish enough to get close enough and loud enough for a sprint finish. Perhaps that was just in my head. Anyway, you snooze you lose.
Swim: 11:35.07 400m
T1: 4:06.9
Bike: 37:15.6 20km
T2:26:58.4
Run: 26:58.4 5km
Total: 1:21.23.1
Sunday, May 02, 2010
Lymm Triathlon Memories - before they fade
The Lymm Triathlon was my second thriathlon ever and 4 years since my first triathlon in Penticton in 2005. In between there have been cyclo-cross races, cyclng tours in Canada, France, Tenerife and of course the UK, 5 changes of address and a lot of courage.
The night before we drove to Lymm to find the venue and to drive the route. Traffic on the M6 and a lacking knowledge of Lymm's nether regions all made it difficult and we had to call to delay dinner. I hoped it would be better signed on the day. My lack of experience ranked very slow so I was one of the first competitors to arrive. Great for parking.
I registered, racked my bike. A shock to the system that Andrew was not allowed into transition with me.
It all seems reasonable now, you can't have random non-athletes wandering around with all that expensive kit, but that dy it flet very lonely preparing my transition whilst he looked on from the other side of a metal fence.
In retrospect, racking and setting up transition should be a quiet time without the distraction of conversation. I took my time to layout my box, make sure it was packed in the righ torder and fine-tune the clothing for the day and the food packed into each pocket. I visualised the process of changing and sighted my position in the transition area by a lamp-post. I placed the bike and balanced the helmet on the saddle. Someone else was being scalded by an official for using a mobile phone in transition I thought it was a bit much for a race which isn't even olympic distance, doesn't involved open water and relies on teenage school children to act as marshalls. Especially as there was an hour to go before anyone started racing.
Terribly early, we did a lap of transition to walk through the ins (swim and bike) and outs (bike and run) and the finish line.
We went inside to look at the pool but it was difficult to see how things would start and where we would go. I could, however, figure out that it involved a very chilly run through the car park. Thankfully carpet and finally the emeergency evacuation fire doors at the end of hte pool were thrown open.
I don't remember anything up until sitting on a bench wiht some equally nervous women and a couple of men who didn't look like the swim 1000m in 30 minutes - more like 5 - they were ripped. Apparently you get special treatment if you tell the organiser you've got to "get away early". It also apparently helps if you're going to win as the man from Manchester Tri club did.
Another woman was complaining that she wanated to put her hat on as it's "part of her routine" but sadly, the thing we were waiting for was the hats so that the team of not so enthusiastic teenagers could count our laps and stick a blue buoy into the water when we had two to go.
I started at the side of the pool and ploughed easily through the laps. I'd sum 1.5 times the distance before so I went quite quickly despite the fact that I'd only just mastered three breath swimming again. My aim was not to drink too much water. I was aware of being lapped by a red hat in my lane and, below the water, of lapping at least one person in the lane next to me.
I'm glad the teenagers were counting if, indeed they really were because I certainly wasn't. I had to watch on and forgot to ask Andrew to time me so I had no idea what my time was.
I had to pause to toss my hat back to the teenagers then set off to do the freezing cold, uncomfortable run through the car park.
At transition I treated myself to a townling-down to stop my teeth chattering but still struggled to put my cycling jersey on. To my surprise, the two women i had lapped entered transition just behind me complaining that they'd left early because their teenagers miscounted. Given that I'd lapped them, I think their teenagers might've been right. They left transition just ahead of me.
To my joy, I remembered to helmet-up before setting off and not get onto my bike before I was allowed to. At the first junction I passed my "cheated" female companions, gave them a cheer then never saw them again.
I don't remember much of the Lymm bike. Men passed me as only the stronger competitors were behind me in the gridding system. No woman passed me by the time I was on the bike. There's a pub advertising a beer festival which is tempting but as I pass a man racin in trainers, I get the bit between my teeth. He stays with me for a while but then I don't see him after the first climb. Around Lymm this is nothing more than a motorway bridge.
As usual approaching transition, I realise I'm on for some sort of sub-time band finish - in this case a 36km ride in 1hr:20min. I sprinted for the line and turned in in 1:18. Believing it was a 40km ride, I was well chuffed.
In T2 I stuffed another banana in my pcket and again failed to retain it further than 100m. This time when I stopped to retrieve it, I dropped my sunglasses. No worries as the man in trainers returned them to me as he passed me. I didn't see him again until the other side of the finishing line.
My legs were tired. The run was mostly on grassy fields with some road. My first, very comfortable rell race I suppose.
The banana went down surprising well as did the water from the volunteers. Th winning man from Manchester Tri club came past me on his second lap (confusing when I was so tired as I wondered why I'd been beating him up until this point). As I came through the finish area, I powerd up the last hill and was proud to indicate I was going on to a second lap for the full length "proper" race.
On the second lap through the parkland I was getting tired and slow but enjoyed joking with dog walkers and eventually resorted to anticipating the last corner leading me to the open field up to the finish area. Men were passing me left, right and centre by now, most of them heading off on their second lap. My calf muscles were complaining. At the sight of TSK I accellerated a little wanting to cross the line with some sort of dignity. I was glad I made an effort as my dad appeared, having just arrived on his bike. I was given a finishing medal by a little boy - the best volunteer of hte day and despite having a bunch of faster competitors who started behind me, I earned the acolade of being the first woman to cross the finishing line.
I headed straight off to the masage tent and sent Andrew to get money to pay the lovely lady. I piled onto a bench next to my friend in trainers.
Final result:
Swim: 900m 26:36
Bike: 36km 1:17:56
Run: 8km 58:12
The night before we drove to Lymm to find the venue and to drive the route. Traffic on the M6 and a lacking knowledge of Lymm's nether regions all made it difficult and we had to call to delay dinner. I hoped it would be better signed on the day. My lack of experience ranked very slow so I was one of the first competitors to arrive. Great for parking.
I registered, racked my bike. A shock to the system that Andrew was not allowed into transition with me.
It all seems reasonable now, you can't have random non-athletes wandering around with all that expensive kit, but that dy it flet very lonely preparing my transition whilst he looked on from the other side of a metal fence.
In retrospect, racking and setting up transition should be a quiet time without the distraction of conversation. I took my time to layout my box, make sure it was packed in the righ torder and fine-tune the clothing for the day and the food packed into each pocket. I visualised the process of changing and sighted my position in the transition area by a lamp-post. I placed the bike and balanced the helmet on the saddle. Someone else was being scalded by an official for using a mobile phone in transition I thought it was a bit much for a race which isn't even olympic distance, doesn't involved open water and relies on teenage school children to act as marshalls. Especially as there was an hour to go before anyone started racing.
Terribly early, we did a lap of transition to walk through the ins (swim and bike) and outs (bike and run) and the finish line.
We went inside to look at the pool but it was difficult to see how things would start and where we would go. I could, however, figure out that it involved a very chilly run through the car park. Thankfully carpet and finally the emeergency evacuation fire doors at the end of hte pool were thrown open.
I don't remember anything up until sitting on a bench wiht some equally nervous women and a couple of men who didn't look like the swim 1000m in 30 minutes - more like 5 - they were ripped. Apparently you get special treatment if you tell the organiser you've got to "get away early". It also apparently helps if you're going to win as the man from Manchester Tri club did.
Another woman was complaining that she wanated to put her hat on as it's "part of her routine" but sadly, the thing we were waiting for was the hats so that the team of not so enthusiastic teenagers could count our laps and stick a blue buoy into the water when we had two to go.
I started at the side of the pool and ploughed easily through the laps. I'd sum 1.5 times the distance before so I went quite quickly despite the fact that I'd only just mastered three breath swimming again. My aim was not to drink too much water. I was aware of being lapped by a red hat in my lane and, below the water, of lapping at least one person in the lane next to me.
I'm glad the teenagers were counting if, indeed they really were because I certainly wasn't. I had to watch on and forgot to ask Andrew to time me so I had no idea what my time was.
I had to pause to toss my hat back to the teenagers then set off to do the freezing cold, uncomfortable run through the car park.
At transition I treated myself to a townling-down to stop my teeth chattering but still struggled to put my cycling jersey on. To my surprise, the two women i had lapped entered transition just behind me complaining that they'd left early because their teenagers miscounted. Given that I'd lapped them, I think their teenagers might've been right. They left transition just ahead of me.
To my joy, I remembered to helmet-up before setting off and not get onto my bike before I was allowed to. At the first junction I passed my "cheated" female companions, gave them a cheer then never saw them again.
I don't remember much of the Lymm bike. Men passed me as only the stronger competitors were behind me in the gridding system. No woman passed me by the time I was on the bike. There's a pub advertising a beer festival which is tempting but as I pass a man racin in trainers, I get the bit between my teeth. He stays with me for a while but then I don't see him after the first climb. Around Lymm this is nothing more than a motorway bridge.
As usual approaching transition, I realise I'm on for some sort of sub-time band finish - in this case a 36km ride in 1hr:20min. I sprinted for the line and turned in in 1:18. Believing it was a 40km ride, I was well chuffed.
In T2 I stuffed another banana in my pcket and again failed to retain it further than 100m. This time when I stopped to retrieve it, I dropped my sunglasses. No worries as the man in trainers returned them to me as he passed me. I didn't see him again until the other side of the finishing line.
My legs were tired. The run was mostly on grassy fields with some road. My first, very comfortable rell race I suppose.
The banana went down surprising well as did the water from the volunteers. Th winning man from Manchester Tri club came past me on his second lap (confusing when I was so tired as I wondered why I'd been beating him up until this point). As I came through the finish area, I powerd up the last hill and was proud to indicate I was going on to a second lap for the full length "proper" race.
On the second lap through the parkland I was getting tired and slow but enjoyed joking with dog walkers and eventually resorted to anticipating the last corner leading me to the open field up to the finish area. Men were passing me left, right and centre by now, most of them heading off on their second lap. My calf muscles were complaining. At the sight of TSK I accellerated a little wanting to cross the line with some sort of dignity. I was glad I made an effort as my dad appeared, having just arrived on his bike. I was given a finishing medal by a little boy - the best volunteer of hte day and despite having a bunch of faster competitors who started behind me, I earned the acolade of being the first woman to cross the finishing line.
I headed straight off to the masage tent and sent Andrew to get money to pay the lovely lady. I piled onto a bench next to my friend in trainers.
Final result:
Swim: 900m 26:36
Bike: 36km 1:17:56
Run: 8km 58:12
Saturday, May 01, 2010
April Stats
Running: 30.74km, 8.9km/hr, 287m el
Cycling: 145.19km, 6.4km/hr, 2,437m el
Swim: 0.88km 1.8km/hr avg.
Cycling: 145.19km, 6.4km/hr, 2,437m el
Swim: 0.88km 1.8km/hr avg.
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