I was really looking forward to this event since I entered it back in September, thinking about this event got me through the winter darkness. It would also mark the transition from winter training to summer training, and I would be able to draw from in a huge learning experience. Making sure my IM nutrition strategy would be adequate, seeing when fatigue would kick in would help amend my training for the summer; if I could go a fair way before I struggled it would be a good indicator for IMUK in September.

Over the winter my training had been consistent, at least 250 miles of fixed wheel cycling every week often doing a little more and once every six weeks or so going close to 350 miles. This was broken down to commuting to university three days a week (40 mile round trip), riding to my placement school two days a week (14 mile round trip) and every Saturday id ride down to Epsom, which was almost always a head wind, going through the Chiltern hills and then the surrey hills. On top of that I was running a 20 miler, and three one hour runs a week, with about 3.5 hours of swimming every week this came to around 25 hours a week of training with some weeks 22 hours some weeks 28 hours. I also managed to fit in a weekly circuits class until xmas.

However the weeks leading up to the race I had so much work on my training dropped right down, four weeks of little training (relative to what I’d been doing) after a rest week, and then when I was free to train normally I had 8 days until Wales. I decided to do a 100 miler with a week left and then take it easy.

My crew consisted of Rebecca, Paul and Partha, three people who did a top job who ill be telling a bit more about later.

On the Thursday before the race I had everything all packed up with each item of kit rolled up with an elastic band and a label, put in a bag with a contents list cellotaped onto the front, I was happy. Rebecca, my girlfriend called, saying that her car, which we’d be using for the race had broken down, not to worry ill phone Partha the mountain climber extraordinaire who happened to own a courier company, unfortunately he only had two seater vans, and there was three of us going down, meeting Paul (Mr press ups, there as he couldn’t get off work that day) so he was going to hire one at discount rates the next morning. The next morning Rebecca arrived with the food and tent and tings, and Partha called to say the hire company he used had nothing except to seater vans, I phoned round and managed to book a brand new car, I think it was the new Vauxhall school run. After some fannying around trying to get the back two seats down we filled that easily, then drove to Partha’s to pick up his bike and filled it some more. Do I usually take so much s=+t with me on a bike ride? Then we were off cruising up the M1, after some slack navigation on my part we arrived late however with the hassle of the car we were pleased to have made good time.

We arrived in Wales later than planned but had enough time to set up tents, chat to the organisers, who were very friendly and a lot younger than I had imagined.

After that we had time to have a pub dinner and a soda water, I was surprised to see Mr arch to arc drinking red wine in the pub.

The morning was cold, I woke up at 5 and decided to call for Partha and Paul, opening Partha’s very swish Everest proof tent I could see Paul wasn’t there. Apparently he missed the last train to Aberystwyth and had to spend the night at a B&B in new town. Or rather that’s what Partha assumed.

I got my stuff together in reasonable time and went to the start. As it was cold and windy the swim distance was halved. Well they said halved if I could swim two miles in 32 minutes at a comfortable pace I’d be very pleased.

After a bit of banter the race was started with a big horn and in true IM style Steven ran and jumped in and was at the first bouy before anyone else had got in the water. The water wasn’t cold on my body but on my hands and feet and it was a struggle getting out of the water standing on pebbles that I found hard.

Rebecca and Partha were still putting tents away and I had to wait in Steven and Jo’s car while they got ready. This is hopefully the longest transition ever (45mins!) although it only took me 10 minutes or so to put on quite a bit of cycling lycra. 

The bike started with a long drag for a while and down the hill, wizzed into roundabout junction without an arrow, I decided to go straight on, but I thought id make sure as it didn’t look right. I asked some guy if he’d seen any cyclists and he said “not for 15 minutes”. When confirming that cyclists had actually gone past 15 minutes ago he said no, he’d been waiting there for 15 minutes and not seen anyone. Well as I was the last person to leave by a good 15 minutes i wasn’t surprised but I thought id make sure, I went forward 200 meters as well cyclists may have gone though before he saw any, and well I ended up in Aberystwyth pier. Hmm.

I tried to phone Partha and Rebecca and my phone (it was in the car as well) but it kept cutting out I didn’t realise the signal would be so patchy) they said I missed a big right hand turn. So I immediately shot back up the hill away from Aberystwyth, at the big roundabout I turned left, and down a 16% hill. Partha’s car over took me and at the round about at the bottom they did a U turn, and back up the 16% hill, they took me way back and finally a left hand turn, I’d gone about 5 miles since the pier and the 16% detour was only 100 meters each way although it certainly didn’t help my Av speed I calculated that I went about 10 miles of course.

Back on track and I was a man on a mission. Partha stopped me to tell me that they were getting Paul and that the race director would be taking over. This was fine, he waited at the top of hills and round corners and felt good up one particularly big hill he was gone, then I saw arrows they weren’t exactly the same but I thought and possibly said out loud “well I’m not missing another bloody turning” and in I went into a mountain bike course. I was struggling to keep above 6mph up this track with rather big rocks in, looking back I should have realised there was something wrong, but figuring it would lead back to a main road I thought it would be over, 3 miles into it the track disappeared, I would have turned back earlier if there weren’t so many dam orange arrows. I kept thinking of the race directors saying one year a car got lost after about 27 miles and well my computer said 36 at the turning so it could have been the turning they mentioned. as the track disappeared and I was now in a field I decided to stop and my original crew to get advice or someone to shout at. I called every number I had a few times and nothing after a few minutes of waiting I turned back. I received a call that they weren’t too far away so I thought id wait. I wasn’t going to go wrong again, after 10 minutes I gave up and headed down the hill, after 200 meters I saw the “real” arrows and felt good, but it didn’t explain where anyone was.

I saw the race director and he stopped me to tell me his car was broken and gave me a new water bottle and a piece of fruit cake. I was angry I had to keep stopping and I kept going wrong id gone about 29 miles into the course and the computer said 46. I started way behind everyone else and with all the stops I had no idea how far behind I was, I decided to hammer the bike to catch up on the competitors. With all the stops added up I must have added on 80 minutes (45in T1, 10 at the pier 10 in the field, 10 minutes back on the course and 5 minutes of being pulled over), however everyone spent a while in T1 so it wasn’t so I’d only lost 20 minutes or so, however id spent a long time covering the 15/17 miles or so as a lot of it was either up 16% hills or up mountains, on mountain bike tracks. I could have been 3 hours down on everyone.

However  this left me free to do go balls out to catch up, I had a legitimate excuse to not finishing, better to blow up spectacularly than finished dead last by three hours. My mood was improved dramatically when I went round a corner on a downhill at over 35 and when the road straightened out and I was getting close to 50 with my chin on the handle bars, I had sabotage by the beastie boys in my head all the way down that hill, if there is every a song to play riding down a mountain its that one, especially the long waaaaaaahhhhhhh bit… ha.

I was now on the main road going to Aberystwyth we used the day before, except I was now head directly away from the little student town. I was starting to feel ok. As I knew id be on this road for a while so my support crew could catch up and all would be well.

I was going round a slight left hand bend when a car came round a corner overtaking a lorry I had a three inch gap between me and the wall on my left and 6 inches between me and the overtaking car. I was travelling at 25 miles as it was slightly downhill and the other car must have been going at least 60 (60mph limit road). I was scared! However I didn’t die which is always a bonus, oh the car was red.

Support crew came up to me to tell me they were going back to help out the race director with his busted clutch. I rode ahead and after a while I was starting to worry as I was running out of food as id been really hammering it and getting hungry in the process. About 2 minutes after I was getting negative I saw them. That was a massive relief we exchanged water bottles (whilst moving sorry I know I wasn’t meant to but it was a dead straight road and they had their hands out)

Then I felt I could really start to push it as I now had unlimited food! 60 miles on the clock and no idea how far down the course I felt good, I knew I usually feel worst at about 60/70 miles and as I still felt fresh (and still a bit angry) I rode ahead for the next 40 miles, got into a good rhythm and started to enjoy myself, felt like a bit of a tail wind for long sections.

I remember a downhill with a sharp right hand turn and then a left over a bridge, I was going well over 35 through those two bends possible over 40 I couldn’t check my comp to make sure, I thought I took this very well and apparently Rebecca and Partha were shocked into how much faster I got round that corner. That was my highlight of the trip. Oh, just to let you know I didn’t cross the center line, safe cycling all the way!

Got to the 100 mile mark for a quick stop. Partha decided to ride with me, just as we were setting off the arch to arc guy overtook, I caught up with them and made small talk then they dropped back and I decided to keep going, if Partha could keep up I’d talk to him but I was feeling good and wanted to get as far down the bike before I started to get tired. I am so thankful for Partha, I don’t think it was the crew’s fault for any of my miss turns, and although they could have done things to avoid so could I, Partha was giving up his weekend and had done all the driving so far and was now getting on the bike, knowing that he’d be riding with a cyclist who was certainly motivated, and also he’s the first to admit he doesn’t do much cycling himself.

There were a few roadwork’s which I decided to ignore, the right hand lane had been closed down so cars were taking it in turn to use the left, it wasn’t my turn to use this section of road so I used the closed section and moved onto the left when the cars stopped coming towards me as I knew id have a big gap before the cars travelling in the same direction as me could catch me up, however safety conscious as I am, I indicated as i wanted to tell the cars behind not to kill me.

At the next set of traffic lights I decided to stop for a natural break, the middle aged women who populated the first three cars in the cue were quite shocked to find a naked man pulling up his shorts and putting his cycle top back on, I waved so they knew I was a friendly cyclist. However Partha was quite adamant the ladies were not the prudish type and looked quite pleased to see me.

At about 130 miles I was feeling good and caught up quickly with a girl ahead on the course, this section was really nice very deserted and I managed to push through the head wind without going into the red. We were now in a no mans land of wickedly smooth road corners which were swooping which you could see for miles I saw was told I was coming up to a switch back which meant one thing, tailwind!

I started getting tired with about 30 miles to go, not really tired but I knew there was a fair distance left. No matter how far you’ve ridden 30 miles is still a fair way, and I didn’t feel fresh, the hills were starting to get a bit tricky, and I noticed I was breathing hard on some small hills, I took it easy I was now in 5^th place.

I think the crew noticed this and Partha joined me for the last stretch after the A road to the road leading to penn-y-pass. Just before pen-y-pas Partha was feeling negative, he came back on the bike to help me through the last section but instead was telling me how hard it was and that he didn’t think he could get up, I’m sure this was some sort of reverse psychology but at the time he was scaring me I started having visions hardknott pass, and thinking how I would be able to run after something that hard. I then saw Steven and Jo running down the hill looking very strong and they shouted lots and sounded very gung-ho about the whole thing, do they ever get tired?

Going down the mountain I decided to take it easy braking on three or four corners just in case they sharpened in the middle, and also as I was tired I didn’t trust my reflexes as much as I would if I’d only ridden 50 miles or so.

Into T2 I felt ok had lots of food and took my time about getting ready, was completely naked in the middle of the high street at 8 in the evening in front of some girls at a bus stop, I’m sure they were over 18 so it wasn’t too disturbing for them I hope. They must have seen it all before, although maybe not so many tattoo’s.

This is when Paul kicked into gear, Paul, like me, also has a thing for getting ink drilled under his skin and is one of few people who I know who makes me look positively untouched by the gun. To give you an idea of Paul’s disposition he can perform 75 push ups in 45 seconds, and that is elbows in, chest 1cm above the ground real push ups, not the perpendicular elbowed hip thrusts which resemble drunk sex more than exercise. He has a picture of Charles Manson on one arm, (who now has FTW tattoo’d on his forehead!) and lots of other equally cool stuff on his other arm, ribs, chest, shins, calves feet etc people dancing round burning crosses, lines from poems, integrity’s (it’s a band) logo, skulls, gargoyles, goat heads etc. Paul quite likes Krav Magar (Israeli martial art resembling MMA) and often tells me stories when we are running together how he now knows how to defend himself against people with baseball bats. Needless to say he has a similar taste in music as I do and although looking through rose tinted glasses he is the angriest singers I have ever heard! The only singer I can think of who is angrier is the singer from a band called Pig Destroyer! Needless to say Paul rocks.

Paul didn’t sleep in a B+B he slept on a bench as by the time he got to new town everything was shut. He saw some stuff that night, he did tell me during the run but I can’t remember. I remember he said he was cold and that he choose the comfort of a sleeping bag over the safety of well, not being tucked up in a sleeping bag I guess.

Paul is also very good when it comes to army stuff, he applied for the marines and passed their fitness tests in flying colours, but due to a technicality with a doctors report when he was 18 (He’s now 31) he wasn’t allowed in. He would make an excellent soldier!

Going up Penn-y-Pass Paul taught me the art of tabbing which is an army trick to get up hills, it involves bending over double and then putting your hands your hips and walking with a slight swinging step, we got up the hill quickly not much slower than running but without any energy expenditure. We got from bottom to top in 49 minutes! We ran down the other side at quite a relaxed pace however apparently was sub 7 min miles (Partha lent Paul his pace maker watch thing). Now onto a gravel track which I navigated down without loosing footing on the rocks, I really like these sort of runs and a week spent doing hill reps up and down the mountain opposite Porte de Carmen in Lanzarote over similar but much more severe terrain came into good use. Paul didn’t have as much practice running down hills like that and lost his footing a couple of times, or maybe he was worrying about me starting to look worse for ware whilst reading a map. However when the road flattened out he caught up. I felt pretty good and tabbed up the hills (with help from Paul leaning on my back pushing me up them) and relaxing down into a quickish stride.

After 15 miles my lungs started giving up, I didn’t have any energy to move my ribcage and the muscles between my ribs had lost any strength they had left, without the ability to transport oxegen to my legs I decided to walk.

I quickly started to feel tired and with 10 minutes fell into the car and had a doze, I was aware of being overtaken but it was the girl I overtook earlier and she looked pretty strong. I wanted her to overtake as she deserved to be ahead after continuing for so long after she was tired.

After my sleep I walked with Rebecca for quite a long time but as the course wasn’t moving as quickly as I wanted it to my legs started getting tired. I enjoyed talking with Rebecca quite a lot and had enough of racing and talking shit with her was much the preferable option. In actual fact we were walking 4 miles an hour still.  I was starting to think that I’ve done enough of the course and I didn’t need to finished to prove my fitness, but my crew didn’t give me the option of quitting so I carried on. Apparently Paul who took charge of the run from the onset was thinking about pulling me as I was refusing food, drink and was shivering and it was me not giving up. However I don’t remember this, although I’m assuming this is true.

I go to the last section which I was told at the start was up a hill, then a downhill section with a steep little bit at the end. In fact it was a walk over a mountain, there was a downhill section of one mile then 2 miles of very steep (<50%) downhill I would have preferred to run down off road, as I could have decided how steep I wanted to run, and I could have chosen my footing, but we went down the path, which was a more direct scary way although providing a idiot proof method for getting to the finish, which was about 500 meters into the town.

After a few short roads the race director was near the finish and I ran in the last 50 meters or so. into the support car which left us at the start of the hill as the mountain track was unsuitable for cars. All in all I felt pleased with the result, I hated running in the night, I couldn’t see much even with a head torch (Everest strength!) and that was a contributing factor to me walking about 17 miles of the course. I’m well up for this next year, and now I know the course and can help to organise transitions I’m looking to go sub 19!

Thanks to the race directors for taking the time to put together the most scenic race I’ve ever been part of and being so chirpy throughout the day/night/next day. It was a nice atmosphere and felt more personal that other long distance events where your unlikely to recognise the race director let alone be on first name terms with. When’s that 200 mile cyclosportive?

I’d like to thank the crew ever so much, it was one of the biggest days of my life so far and I couldn’t imagine anyone putting in that much effort, and if I do do something like this again I hope you’ll come along. Although some of you may have doubts being charge of someone so grumpy at times. I’m sure Paul saw the funny side of things when I greeted him after he spent a night rough with “no I’m not f$%^&ing alright, I’m standing like a c*nt in the middle of a field and I’m meant to be racing people!”