I'd seen this race posted on a website forum and was immediately drawn to it. I'm not sure why, I think I like the idea that, if I wanted to, I could probably achieve anything (endurance wise). Then when it dawns on my the training involved I usually lose interest and get back to drinking Guinness and eating pies, something I'm very good at indeed. But at £55 and only a maximum of 20 entries I thought I'd better get my name down fast because surely this would fill in weeks! I mean, where else do you get to bring your own support crew, your own nutrition, bike spares (and after crashing out of Lanzarote with a broken wheel the year before this was a huge plus) and as much other kit as you want. Special needs, pah! I'm bringing a van. So I'd entered but after deferring my Lanazrote place to 2009 my training (which isn't the most structured at best) kind of went off the boil. During a training weekend with a few friends I was found seriously wanting and decided I was in no shape to contemplate an Ironman never mind an ultra distance triathlon. Well at least that would stop the sand-bagging insults.
After telling Ella (my long suffering triathlon widow) that I was taking the sensible option and not going through with this, she was as usual, extremely supportive and we agreed to tackle something else such as the Aberfeldy ½. But as the days passed I started to think that I should just give it a go. My worry was that as a supported event I'd be wasting everyone else's time just for me to pull out ½ the way around the bike course. In my mind doing this was like the hokey-cokey, I was in / out, in /out and with about 10 days to go I finally decided I was in. So after 2 weeks off due to man-flu, it was time to start training and to book some accommodation and to sort out a van and to make a plan and to get my kit sorted etc etc.
Arriving at Loch Morar at 4:40am I was a little upset to see that there were indeed other people stupid enough to turn up, and I now had to go through with the event. To then find out that Stuart had only entered the night before was almost beyond belief. Tall, extremely fit and keen I knew this was the last time I'd see him today.
As we entered the water and the countdown from 5 started there was a bit of banter and a general reluctance to move. I looked up and Stuart was off! (Check out the start photo, I think he's 30 metres in front before anyone else decides to get their head wet). I was pleasantly surprised with the water temperature, no face freeze and no panic breathing; it would appear my one North Sea swim was enough acclimatisation, or possibly my extra insulation being a stone and half above race weight. Either way I settled into an easy rhythm, quickly losing sight of Stuart but keeping an eye on the kayak in front. How fantastic not to start an open water event without a fight for the first 200 metres. The swim was around 4 small islands and the water of Loch Morar was crystal clear but so deep it was pitch black. With the sun shining I was content watching the bubbles come off my hands as they entered the water in front of me, it was the most peaceful and pleasant swim I think I've ever had. When I could feel my breath deepen I told myself to slow it down, take it easy and just maintain an easy fluid stroke. When I came out of the shelter of the islands there was a little more chop and a slight current, thankfully in the direction of home and the opposite side to my preferred left hand breathing. It was good to know that I was on the homeward stretch as the novelty of the peaceful swim was wearing a bit thin and soon enough I was heading back to dry land and the waiting midges.
Coming into T1 was quite surreal, there was no hustle and bustle, just a few well-done's, Stuart had already departed and there was no-one else coming in. So I sat down got a drink of water and tucked into some porridge that Richard had kindly prepared. Joel informed me that my back wheel had been misbehaving during a test ride (I don't do bike maintenance, bike neglect is more my style and only picking up the poor thing from it's second home at the bike-works on Thursday I'd been informed that both wheel hubs were shot and not to over-tighten the wheels as they'd not go round) now it seemed that I may lose drive and gain a forward free hub at anytime, deep joy! Thankfully Joel hadn't replaced the wheel with his spare as it had been in my mum's car and she and Ella had sensibly chosen an extra hour in bed over the swim start. Joel's spare had a 12-25 cassette and I was planning on making very good use on my 27 throughout the day.
So after a minor confusion about water bottles and nutrition with Ella and my mum (I'd given them less than zero instructions so there was no sports drinks prepared – I'd thought mind reading was part of the requirements of a support crew) I was on my way. Joel and Richard could return to the B&B and get their breakfasts.
My motto for the cycle was "easy-cheesy". Everything at an easy effort and cheesy from some article I'd read about spinning down hills and conserving energy. I altered the old adage of "If it feels hard, it's too hard. If it feels about right, it's too hard. If it feels easy, then it's probably about right." To include "It if it feels easy, it's still probably too hard." I had no illusions about a good bike split and had estimated an average speed of about 16mph to get around in about 11 hours.
Being out on the road on your own in what was lovely weather was pretty awesome. The scenery is truly breathtaking and the road surfaces on the whole are fantastic. The route is pretty simple to follow and the road markings by the team were great, making it super simple to follow and one less thing to worry about. Ella and my mum were doing a fantastic job of stopping every 5 to 7 miles to open "The Shop". The shop was my mum's car boot filled with everything I thought I may possible crave. Normally I stick to gels and sports drink but I thought due to the time involved and the lower effort I may fancy more variety. I arrived at my first stop to be presented with a plate including a freshly made ham and cheese roll, ½ a banana and some malt loaf. I think they were a little disappointed when I chose a gel and bottle of High 5. My mood fluctuated constantly throughout the ride. Whenever I made the mistake of thinking about the enormity of what I was doing and comparing it with my recent cycles, all of which were over 50 miles shorter, I started to doubt myself and this unfortunately manifested itself in the way I treated my loving support crew. Thankfully they took it on the chin and didn't just "close shop". Strangely when faced with long drags or 14% climbs my mood lifted, maybe it was the endorphins kicking in when forced to put a bit of effort in or maybe it was the fantastic descents on the other side. Anytime my competitive instinct crept in and wondered how far the guys behind me where I had to remind myself I was here purely to finish and placing didn't matter, although one factor in finally deciding to go through with this was when Arthur entered shortly after his 70th birthday, I'd have been a bit cheesed off if I was beaten by him. I usually go through a bad patch between 60 and 80 miles where the saddle becomes uncomfortable and little bits of coasting sneak into my cycling and today was no different but it was over pretty quickly and as ½ way approached it was looking more and more likely that I'd get through the cycle and my mood lifted. Throughout the route the scenery is stunning and the road always interesting, it truly is a fantastic ride and I doubt that there's anywhere that can rival this. For those who don't fancy the full event I'd recommend coming up and doing the cycle, maybe over a couple of days to enjoy it fully. Things ticked along nicely, a few harder efforts up hills and for photo / video shots and as the support team counted down the miles I was ready to disembark but alas there was a cheeky sting in the tail, a number of short and steep hills with twisting descents. By this time I don't think it really mattered but I just thought "Which sick S-O-A-B put this at the end of 170 miles of already pretty tough cycling?" So upon reaching T2 I asked this very question only to be asked whether I'd rather it had been the start of the run course. I decided it was probably best just to sit down, have a cup of tea and have a little break.
It was time to swap support crews from my wife and my mum to Joel and Richard from my tri club. Before I set off I was asked did I fancy my chances chasing down Stuart. As I could barely feel my feet through the pins and needles I didn’t really fancy my chances breaking into any sort of run. Needless to say the route started with a hill, so I marched off for a long slog to the finish.
Amazingly I was able to get into a jog, when the hill made running slower than walking I broke into a power-walk and found it pretty easy to get back into jog afterwards. I agreed with Joel and Richard to meet them every mile to top up on fluids. After an hour I was handed a Muller rice and told to eat it, as I was on an uphill I marched and ate but the damn thing just sat in my stomach for the next 45 minutes but I'm sure it was just what I needed. With it being the longest day it was still lovely and light and what little breeze that was blowing, was on the whole pushing me onwards to Applecross. Eventually I could feel my feet again and was holding a reasonably steady trot and quite enjoying the run. Ella and my mum had gone to Applecross for some food and had brought back fish and chips for the boys, just the smell made me sick (incredible I know) so I plodded onwards with Ella keeping my company for about a mile making sure I was OK, she told me that Stuart was in a bad way and may pull out, I really hoped he'd be OK and certainly didn't want to get into a situation where I may pass him whilst he was suffering, I'd have felt terrible and I certainly didn't want to get into any kind of race. For a while now Joel was on his mountain bike riding by my side having a chat whilst Richard took over as shopkeeper and the miles ticked slowly down until we got to Applecross. 17 miles down, 18 to go and this little hill I'd read so much about. I wasn't even going to attempt to run this hill, just continue with the power-walk and hopefully restart the jog on the way down. The boys did a great job of throwing layers on me as the wind picked up and the temperature started to drop, it was pretty exposed and hats off to those who took the full force of the weather climbing up this hill. It goes on for miles and didn't need much to take it from a hard slog to very hard indeed.
As the climb kicked up Richard took over the cycling duties whilst Joel took shelter in the car (well planned). The rain had started and I felt pretty sorry for poor Richard having to cycle at 3mph in a gale. I was pretty happy to reach the top of the pass, although this time I wasn't so chirpy for the event photographs, I wasn't hanging around to chat, the end was in sight, must have only been a ½ marathon to go!
Heading down the hill I did wonder what the hell the drivers going past must be thinking, a mountain bike followed by a rather wet runner and a van doing 5 mph at 1am on a Saturday night – stag night gone terribly wrong?
By the time we reached the flat I was getting pretty tired, I could feel my eyes shutting whilst running and just wanted to finish. With 6 miles to go I felt a real boost, I was expecting about 8 miles left and to lose 2 miles was just wonderful, unfortunately I'd forgotten that this last 6 miles would involve about 4 miles of uphill. It was dark, windy and very wet. I wasn't able to run more than a shuffle and not at all on the climb. Joel and Richard did there best to keep me eating but I just kept saying "I just want to finish" eventually we crested the hill and could see the street lights of Lochcarron, I've never been so happy to reach anywhere in my life. Joel phoned ahead to Ella so she and my mum could be at the finish, unfortunately through a bit of exhausted communication Ella thought that I'd just come down off the pass so when Joel phoned to say I'd be finished in 2 minutes they were caught a little short.
Richard cycled ahead and as I saw the finish flags flutter I managed to break into a jog from a shuffle and finally finish. Shortly after Ella and my mum came running down the road. I think I just stood there, not really sure what to do, I think I was a little tired.
A huge thanks to Ross and Chris for manning this event and to Ross's girlfriend for helping too. Although I wasn't happy about the last 6 miles of the bike and run route at the time, I'm glad I was able to overcome it and look forward to reading what next years entrants think of them!
A massive thanks to Ella, my mum, Richard and Joel for taking a weekend out of their lives to come and take my abuse and grief as well as getting a bit of sleep deprivation into the bargain. Without you there's not a chance I'd have managed to get ½ the way around this event, never mind finishing in one piece, remarkably unscathed.
