‘Last Sunday – alarm goes off at 4.30am. Reluctantly I get out of bed. I need to be at Dorney Lake by 6am for a 7am race start…I’m not sure I can be bothered. I’ve been suffering with a cold for the last 2 weeks: sore heads, cough, aches and pains (oh yes, dreaded manful) and as a result I’ve hardly trained….
Anyway – mentally I have already decided – I’ve paid my entrance fee so I’m going. Go; do the swim and see how I feel. If I feel bad on the bike or the run just pull out. I’ve already achieved my season goal of a sub 5hr middle distance so this event is just a bonus anyway. As a result, this is the calmest I’ve ever been before a race: relaxed in setting up my kit in transition, standing around drinking coffee, chilling at the start. I’m not sure if this is good or bad…
Okay time to get in to the water – relieved that even though it is cold standing around, the water must still be around 20 degrees. There’s probably 100 people in my wave – Dorney Lake is so vast that there’s plenty of space and I go straight to the front. Gun goes and off we charge to the first set of buoys…other than that I have a forgettable swim. I don’t think I got a single draft on the swim: there seemed to be a group in front I couldn’t ever quite reach and nobody around or behind me. So I swim 1.9km on my own only catching a couple of guys at the end as they hadn’t bothered to sight the swim exit properly. I looked at my watch – 37 mins for the swim – what the hell? That’s terrible – I must be so far behind…but there’s still a lot of bikes in transition. Oh well, erase it from the memory – quick transition and off on the bike.
The bike course is a horseshoe shaped course of 10 laps – that means we’ve got lots of dead turns. Off I set – careful – just maintain a steady pace and don’t shoot off too quick and then bonk later. Nice smooth tarmac and pancake flat – the first few laps pass without incident as hardly any bikes on the course – averaging about 36km/hr per lap. That’ll do nicely. BUT – those who’ve raced at Dorney will be familiar with the dreaded wind. Lap 3 the wind starts to pick up – suddenly, for half the lap, I’m struggling to maintain momentum into the wind then, I’m cruising for the other half with the wind behind. But this is starting to hurt. I pass an ambulance on the course – a guy lying at the side of the course with his face covered in blood. Someone shouts as I pass that a barrier had blown over in front of him…not good – that puts me on edge a little. 60 km gone and I’m still feeling okay and the time looks respectable – but soon after the pain starts…I can barely turn the cranks over into the wind and can’t generate enough power in the tuck position. On the down- wind section I’m really having to push it to try and maintain a decent average speed. Finally, the end of the last lap is approaching and my feet are out the shoes and I’ve done a decent flying dismount. 2hrs 47 mins – slower than I wanted, but at least the pain is over.
A pretty fast T2 – 1 min – and I’m off on the run. Jeez my legs are hurting…I think I’m barely moving and there are so few people on the run course yet I haven’t got anyone to chase down. Mantra – maintain form and just think in the moment…man, my lower back and right leg are really hurting. Please, don’t give out on me…I’ve long since discarded the thought of pulling out. Just keep plodding – finally, I spot some runners on the course. Are they doing the middle distance or the sprint? Who knows or cares, just chase them down and pass them…stop at the feed stations and get some coke/banana down…not nice but at least it’s not a gel. Each lap seems to go slower and at the end of each one I can’t believe I’ve got to run it again…eventually, I can see the boathouse at Dorney and I know it’s my last lap…there;s a guy in front who is barely running now. He’s been way ahead of me all race – that’s my target – give it everything to pass home before the line. He eventually starts walking about 500m before the finish – my signal to floor it to the line. I cross the finish line – 1 hr 35 mins run, again slower than I wanted but I really could not have given any more today.
Off to the results screen and I type in my race number – 7 – bollocks…5hrs 3 mins. How could I have missed the 5 hr mark??? Initially I’m deeply frustrated, but then I look at my position: 9th overall and 1st in Age Group. A certain satisfaction there takes the edge of the disappointment of the time.
So – with aching calves and numb glutes (!) I console myself that this season’s triathlon efforts are over and it’s time for a pint and a pizza and a week or two off before next seasons training starts in earnest!’
