Weymouth Half Ironman 2018
The 2nd Coming…
So…that just happened.
Just 4 days after Storm Ali rolled through bringing its 90mph winds and heavy rain through Dorset I lined up at the start of the HIM Weymouth with more than a little trepidation.
As with all self-respecting athletes before an event, I’d been refreshing the BBC weather app almost every minute searching for any glimmer of hope that a miracle would occur, the wind and rain would stop, the sun would come out and the weather gods would smile down the most perfect event weather just because I was willing it to.
That didn’t happen…
Standing on the beach front looking at the water crashing in, there was a general murmur of survival rather than PBs. The IM team did their best to whip up the athletes, George Esra blaring out across the beach…
‘Homegrown alligator, see you later, gotta hit the road, gotta hit the road. The sun it changed in the atmosphere, Architecture unfamiliar, I can get used to this’
It seemed strangely apt for the event but also at odds with the current situation, few wanted to hit the road. We saw a few of the pros testing the water with one walking back to the shore shaking his head, it really didn’t bode well…and then, salvation…
‘Due to the adverse weather conditions now and forecast, the swim start has been delayed by an hour and the course will be shortened to 950m‘.
I don’t care what anyone says…you’d have been hard pressed to find a person not a little relieved!
[ The swim ]
Still, that hour came and went, and before I knew it, I was trotting down the chute and, ahem, ‘gracefully’ diving into the swell. I can’t really tell you what happened next as it has since been removed from my memory for my own safety. What I can tell you is that my Garmin suggested I swam 1255m in a leisurely 26 minutes and the ‘out, across, back’ triangle route it should have been looked more like a shark’s mouth with all the jagged lines.
The Weymouth course has a 700m run from the shore to T1 but it could have been 700 miles for all I cared, I was back on terra firma, alive! I took my time in T1, chatted with a few fellow competitors and wrapped myself up in every piece of clothing I had ready for the bike leg.
[ The bike ]
Being a relative local, and having done the event the year before, I knew what to expect with the rolling course, one tip…pedal down the hills to gain speed, you’ll appreciate the help up the hills…However, it didn’t take long to see this was going to be about survival rather than course management. Leaving T1 along the front to the first slow climb away from the coast I saw three people freewheeling back down the slope looking defeated. At the top one guy was already wrapped in a blanket being treated by the paramedics…
A combination of blustery winds, rain and debris across the road left by the storm made time irrelevant so I just focussed on one pedal at a time. This actually worked well for me and I found myself – quite perversely – enjoying the first couple of wet, windy hours as I overtook more cautious riders who clearly had lost their enthusiasm.
However, at about mile 30 or so I cycled past an old concrete bus stop with a bundle of bikes outside, (think that’s the collective term), before that had a real chance to register, I saw in the bus stop / shelter about a dozen or so athletes all huddling together for warmth looking thoroughly frozen. This made me do a quick system check on my state only to realise that I actually couldn’t feel my feet or my hands. My feet I could cope with as they were clipped in to the pedals so as long as my legs moved up and down, I’d keep moving, it was my ability to brake that now worried me.
I spent the rest of the cycle trying to wiggle my toes and ‘play the piano’ as the cycling analogy for wiggling my fingers goes. I really couldn’t feel anything so I only knew I’d changed a gear when the clunk happened on my chain and I only knew I was braking when I noticed the squeal of the brakes.
Once I’d noticed how cold I really was, it wasn’t fun at all. I finished the bike leg in 3 hours 12 minutes, about 20 minutes slower than I planned.
Arriving in T2 I racked the bike and stomped leaden footed into the changing tent, the lack of any feeling in my fingers meant that I couldn’t even unzip my top so I sat on my hands, jogged on the spot just to try and warm up. It ended with a bit of athlete camaraderie as two others took pity on me and unzipped my top and took off my bike shoes for me, (I paid it forward by doing the same to another chap once my fingers got feeling again).
[ The run ]
Almost 15 minutes later I emerged from T2, (F1 pit stop it wasn’t), dressed ready for a wet run. I got about 2 miles in when the sun came out, not just peeping around a cloud, full glorious sun. I spent the next aid station undressing and trying to pack all my now extra clothes into my tri suit. The run passed with little issue other than the sun beating down burning my nose. Supporters began to appear in their droves and ‘Cone Corner’, (the far corner of the lap has a man dressed as a traffic cone and lots of rowdy support outside a pub), offering much needed support each lap.
I finished feeling pretty strong but with the harrowing swim and bike in my legs it was a relatively slow 2 hours 17 minute run, again over 20 minutes slower than I’d trained at. The run down the ‘red chute’ to the finish was fun. The year before I sprinted down to the finish but this year, I slowed a little, hit some high fives, tuned into the music and announcer and enjoyed the moment.
‘I’ll be riding shotgun underneath the hot sun, feeling like a someone,
I’ll be riding shotgun underneath the hot sun, feeling like a someone, someone, someone, someone
[ Finished! ]
Yes George, this time the lyrics were spot on…a nice unintended book end to the day. Finishing in a total time of 6h10 or 6h36 with thawing time in transition. It was a disappointing time as before the event I had an eye on 5h30 but with everything considered, time was irrelevant.
Walking back to collect the bike from transition I reflected on the event, yes it was hard, sometimes bruising, painful and very, very cold but having come through it I wouldn’t have changed it for the world…a few people suggested they should have cancelled the event, (like other events the same weekend did), I can understand their point of view and this was clearly a unique situation but all IM staff, paramedics, marshalls and supporters were amazing. Dealing with situations that they probably hadn’t before, all with a smile on their face. Ironman is an event juggernaut, with hundreds of people spending hundreds of hours on the event, sponsors, road closures and advertising, I don’t think they could have done more.
Why do I do this? To challenge myself, to see what I’m capable of…and this certainly was a challenge.
