One island, one weekend, a whole lot of miles

Like most events, this one crept up on me quite surreptitiously, and despite having almost 2 months after finishing the Norseman to think about in some way preparing for Elbaman, it was with 3 weeks to go that I realised I hadn't actually ridden my bike since getting off it at T2 in Austbygda. In fact, to my slight embarassment, I hadn't quite got round to unpacking it from the bike box after flying back from Norway. Which didn't bode well. Don't get me wrong, I hadn't been entirely sedentary since August - I'd been to the gym a bunch of times, and done some casual swimming here and there, so was fairly relaxed about the whole thing. I even went for a run in late September, quite a long one infact.

Either way, suffice to say I probably hadn't really treated Elbaman with the respect it definitely deserves. 

To get to Elba, I took a plane to Pisa, then hired a car (Vauxhall Zafira - the Zaffy) and drove to Livorno, where I stayed the night in a very pleasant sea-side mansion-type hotel, before driving to Piombino and catching a ferry to Porto Ferraio on the North East coast of Elba. A short drive across the island brought me out in Marino di Campo, the home of the Elbaman.

Moby - now runs ferries

Pulling into Porto Ferraio on the ferry

I can highly recommend the Hotel Mistral in Marino di Campo, and in particular Room 105 - their fully equipped disabled access room (the very nice hotelier was hugely apologetic as she showed me round - I pointed out that as someone equipped with a bike box the size of a small piano, the additional floor space would be much appreciated).

The pasta party on the Friday night was exceptional - home-made pasta, and a great atmosphere, and the Saturday was a good opportunity to chill on the beach in the sunshine ahead of the anticipated exertions of the following day. 

Marino di Campo

Sunday morning - and a fretful bunch milling around the slightly complex transition area arranging bags of running and cycling gear, before the 200 metre trot down to the beach start. 7am was the off, and was characterised by a frantic first few hundred metre stretch to the first buoy (during which I used my favoured breast-stroke - an excellent, if slow, means of making sure I didn't drown from swallowing all the salt water being kicked in my face, and of ensuring I went in a vaguely straight line).

The first buoy was nice to reach, and after hanging a left and getting to the right hand side of the general thrashing throng of swimmers (I was at the remedial end of the pack as per usual) I was able to actually get my head down and try a bit of front crawl - which was nice. The water was really clear, and the bottom of the bay was sandy, which again made for a refreshing change from the fairly gloomy depths of the average Norwegian fjord.

First lap - 36 minutes, and a short trot round a little section of beach before plunging back into the Med for another crack. 1 hour and 12 and I was jogging up the beach towards T1.

The bike was, frankly, amazing. But brutal. Steep in parts, drawn-out in others, climbs followed descents followed inclines, all around the Western end of the island, with three laps of the 60km loop, during which there was really no prolonged section where you could actually get your head down and rack up some miles. It wasn't so much that the course was very tough, but it was all-engaging, and meant that after the first lap (which I'd enjoyed very much) I was pretty knackered. Needless to say a mini energy crisis was on its way, and came on pretty strong about half way through the lap. Should probably have thought to have taken more than just a packet of jelly babies with me for the bike - not quite the sustenance required as it turned out.

Always a good opportunity to discover a little more about yourself, I embraced the crisis and plodded my way up a couple of hills, before stocking up a little more fully at the next aid station, and the next, and the one after that. None of them really seemed to be doing the trick, but I started feeling a little more spritely on the third lap. Until about a third of the way through that one when my chain snapped (half way up a hill). Not the best, but easily fixed, and soon on my way again. All very enjoyable, but I have to say as I pulled back into Marino di Campo for the third time I was pretty wrecked, and not whole-heartedly looking forward to running a marathon. Total ride time of just under 7 hours (to put this in perspective my ride time for Norseman was around 6hrs20).

The run wasn't quite as promising as the bike - all flat, and 5 laps backwards and forwards along the seafront and through the town. However, the peanut butter and jam sandwich I'd stashed in my T2 bag gave me a shot of energy, and so off I trotted along by the sea, feeling a little better with each stride.

The run was actually a lot better than the profile might have at first led me to believe - and the support was excellent, really excellent. There were plenty of aid stations, and given I was moving at a much more reasonable pace I was able to stop and partake in a wide variety of interesting snackable items (exactly what I needed after the earlier energy crisis). My favoured aid was very much Coca Cola and pieces of orange.

It was after about 6km that I met Luca. We were running side by side for about 600m or so before we acknowledged each other. Another 500m and a couple more nods, then a km later we introduced ourselves. Luca was doing his first ironman, which was in fact his first triathlon, and coincidentally the run was his first marathon. A man on a mission, Luca was trotting along pretty smartly, and his pace suited me fine. When he stopped to walk after an aid station, so did I, and vice versa. Luca was also a local - born and bred in Marino di Campo, he attracted a huge cheer every time we went through the town centre, or along the seafront, and all the various aid station marshals knew him and were cheering him on. By affiliation, this spurred me on. I'm not going to lie - it was a long old slog, but we made pretty steady progress. 

After 4 hours and 20 minutes of (fairly sedate) running, we crossed the line. Total time was 12hrs55 - by no means fast, but a thoroughly enjoyable day out, and, to be perfectly honest, it's not every event I've done where after the day's effort, and a night's sleep I've been able to kick back on a Mediteranean beach in the sunshine...

For more details about Elbaman - check their website here. The event comes highly recommended - amazing swim, really tough bike, and a well supported run - plus you're on a beautiful Mediterranean island - what more could you ask for?