Now I have a theory and this is it, I'm going to put it out there and I'm sorry if I cause any disgruntlement and if I am factually incorrect, but I think that anyone, and I mean ANYONE can
complete an Ironman, you have to be fit and put in the hours of training, for sure, but training for a few months and being mentally strong can help you to achieve anything in life and an Ironman is no different.
I have been mulling over the last few months and my recent Inferno triathlon DNF and this is where I got to - I was fit enough for an Ironman, but not for Inferno.
To be fair, I haven't been in a great place mentally these past few months - starting with being away from home and James with a new bunch of people, moving house away from friends and family to be near my job, only to discover 3 weeks later that I was being forced to quit. Coinciding with my husband, James starting work away from home, running up huge debts and being chased by banks, the tax man, and others for money I simply don't have........ Add to that the power of one's own insecurities, narrowing one's options, consequently avoiding answering the telephone and having no time or money to socialise, of course I'm going to be feeling a little small.
I was going through the motions of training and physically I should have been at my peak - having not worked for the last 4 months there was no excuse, except that I simply hadn't anticipated just how HUGE everything was going to be. Dorset was SO a bad idea! There are no hills and I had no-one to train with, so no bench marks for mental boosts.
Back to my initial point - in an Ironman, you have 17hrs in which to complete your race from start to finish and there are only 3 disciplines, totalling 226km - I have seen some proper OAP's finish in IM Austria. And so when I completed IM Wales, I did it, but not in any fast time, 15hrs 46 - only just shy of the cut off. For me IM Wales was about proving that I could and enjoying the journey, training with friends and being able to talk about this amazing thing that I was doing.
I am not fast, but I really needed to be faster. Inferno triathlon gives you, the competitor, just 14hrs in which to cover 150km - much shorter in comparison. Admittedly there are not that many Brits who give this race a go, but the ones who do foolishly pretty much all say the same - this race, with it's introduction of the MTB section should be a bit of fun in a year off from IM. How very wrong!!!
IM races are all pretty much achievable in terms of terrain. On the bike leg there are always some hills, sure, but they are thoughtfully considered to allow all but the weakest of climbers to get through the lot and be into transition in time to start the run. And they certainly don't start within the first km out of transition. Inferno does just that - infact, within that first km the climb begins and doesn't let up until almost 20km in, brutal!! The route continues through, I have to say, the most stunning vistas I have seen in a race, EVER, into a long sweeping descent, through Interlaken and then to an undulating road next to lake Breinzsee, turning off at Innertkirchen again to climb for another 18km, then a short (9km, with treacherous road surfaces, oncoming tourist bus and single width road) descent into Grindelwald. At this point the MTB begins with a steady 15km climb (the final section unrideable) to the top of Kleine Scheidegg, then the same distance again descent to Stechelberg. If this hasn't exhausted you, the run (loosely titled) will. Summed up by another Brit competitor Louise Hanley, it is essentially 'a 15mile walk up a mountain', which most walkers would take an entire day over, except, assuming you've just made the cut off, you have just 4hrs in which to do so. In an IM race the competitor has approx. 7hrs in which to run/jog/walk a relatively undulating and normally flat marathon. Peanuts!!!
I knew all of this before entering into this race, so why I was surprised that it was way too tough I am not sure - I guess I just hadn't done the maths! Theoretically speaking in training I have been achieving the following:
1: Swimming - 1hr10 for 3.1km (in a pool), so finishing the swim just over 1hr was within my sights..... the one thing I DID perform in on the day with a 1.06 by my watch to the swim exit)
2: Cycling - I have ridden 100km + regularly during training and depending on the heat and intensity have been covering this distance in anywhere between 5-6hrs, in IM Wales I rode the hilly 180kms in 8hrs so was reckoning on the ride taking me 4.5hrs.
3: MTB - I haven't done much this year, but thought that with half of the course being descent it would be easy to grab back some time and get in under the 3hrs allowed.
4: Running - I am shit at running at the best of times, but was feeling quite strong and had upped my tempo in training. I had thought that once I'd bagged the rest there would be no way I was missing out on the chance to summit a mountain.
All in I thought it would take me about 13-14hrs to complete the race and I honestly thought I could do this without really believing in myself. So, what could possibly go wrong?
I was very aware that my training ground was made up of mere mounds compared to the climbs I was about to endure, so when we hit the Alps I ramped up the training to include some cols, lake swims and alpine runs, probably a bit late in the day and exhausting.
Race day for me really started the day we entered Switzerland and the Inferno playground, it was going to be a mental challenge. On the drive in I kept trying to spot Schilthorn and muttering 'oh shit, oh shit'! The mountains are HUGE! A spot of lunch on lake Thunersee confirmed for me that the lake also was HUGE, then on to riding up Grosse Scheidegg (which I had foolishly assumed was THE climb in the race).
At my request, James kicked me out at the foot of the climb and diligently kept a distance as I ground my way up.
The first part ranges anywhere from 7-20% and is a steady climb, but as I always discover, cold legs and long climbs are not a friend of mine. I was hating it and felt really weak (probably due to the rides earlier in the week) and invented in my head that I was lacking in oxygen, so flagged down James, foolishly took the inhaler I keep for severe emergencies (which never happen!), got light headed and had a ridiculous panic attack (which I am also not prone to) and had to sit down for several minutes to calm down. James talked me back onto my bike and handed me my ipod, which worked a treat and I continued the climb until it flattened off at the halfway point - 3 days before race day, no point in overdoing it (!?) We were unable to drive over the rest of the mountain as there is no vehicular access, except the tourist bus, so had to be happy with what we had recced.
Mike and Rosie joined us that evening in the campsite, so we had a fairly relaxed next day of bike tinkering and kit washing and prep, before packing all away and depositing at the various transitions and race briefing on the Friday afternoon. Transition drop offs were from Midday onwards with race briefing in Murren (only reached on foot or by cablecar) at 6pm, where we were told all manner of things, in German, but as none of us really sprechen ze deutsch, we were left a little perplexed. At the end a chap came on and briefly summarised in English and German what we already had read in our race packs, so again, none the wiser as to what had been said. There was a huge traffic jam on the hour long drive back to base camp, so we arrived already late for dinner and bed, bad start.
The delightful couple in the tent next to us who sat about all day and night drinking and smoking outside their tent did the same thing that night, cue James going out in his pants at midnight and politely asking them to shut up - so of course they carried on. Then the child in the tent the other side had a nightmare and starting screaming. This and the fact that my ridiculous brain wouldn't switch off meant that I lay and thought about sleep for a few hours until the 4.30am alarm sounded. Now, this is the bit I HATE about endurance events - not only are you doing the toughest races, but you have to get up at some ungodly hour to consume enough food to get you going and digest it in time!
So to the swim start - a beautiful morning full of the pungent aroma of adrenaline. The water temp seemed surprisingly warm compared to the morning air, so when the balloons went up and we started the swim I just settled in and went for it, found my space and swam. And swam, and swam! Inferno swim is a linear swim - unlike Ironman which is usually a lapped swim with a small run in the middle. After the initial arms and legs flying everywhere bunfight I found myself strangely all alone in the middle - most people had either gone left with the current, or right, to hug the buoys. I just swam the direct route, but it did mean that I didn't see anyone for ages and the world and the lake seemed HUGE, with every stroke I got colder and colder and could feel my core temperature dropping. I have this annoying swim cough, which I think happens because I am too inept to not use a nose clip swimming front crawl, snot builds up behind the clip and makes me cough, underwater, which recently has been making me retch. I have no idea if I actually puked, but it was pretty grim for a few minutes.
There was a small bunch about 100m infront of me, so I tried to keep them in sight and keep going. Eventually we amassed back together before the swim exit and I overtook the annoying red capped guy who had been swimming backwards and forwards across me earlier on (at least that's who I like to think it was!) I looked down at my watch, 1.06, woohoo!! just what I wanted to achieve, which foolishly sent me on an immense high. I ran into transition shouting to James that the water was effing cold and wondering if it was worthwhile donning arm warmers and gilet to start off with. I changed without falling over, grabbed my bike and ran out of transition.
Out onto the bike, a tiny ascent out onto the main road, then a flattish section to pump the legs, then bang, the climb began. I was expecting that this part of the race was through the foothills and that it would be challenging, but not unachievable. I settled in and started to climb, but having not put on any extra clothing I really couldn't warm up, my hands were freezing, I started seeing halos in front of my eyes and I generally felt shit. Trying to drink energy drink was not working as I still had a lump in my throat so everything tasted grim, but I carried on and allowed myself the odd breather, where everyone passing was asking something, but I don't know what, I really need to learn German! We carried on up, up, up, looking down on the mass of Lake Thunersee, James and Rosie passed in the car, then got turned back and had to go the other way. I thought we would see them at Beatenberg, so settled down to the fact that I could have a big whinge there and James would sort me out.
After a little while I started to get a pain in my right ribcage, which obviously I assumed was a cracked rib and again, panicked. The pain was getting worse when I was climbing, which was all we would be doing all day, so I got off and pushed for a small section, which seemed to ease the pain. Everytime I got back on the pain came back, and was stiffening up my neck and shoulder, so I succumbed to the temptation to push up the road and so it happened that even more people (infact, almost the entire field) passed me, and I was again, on my own, wallowing in self pity! At no point did I think to take my ibuprofen which was sitting in my bento box on my top tube, all I needed was to sit down for five, eat and drink, chill the hell out and take the damn pain killers - hence why I think I am stupid!
Eventually a chap called Thomas who spoke English asked if I was okay, said he'd had a horrible swim and was finished, we rode together for a few kms, it was nice to have someone to talk to and to forget about the pain. We rode through the national park, then through some awesome tunnels and eventually got to Beatenberg (after passing the depressing sight of the 10km mark at the side of the road!) There was no sign of my support at the feed station and I just crumbled - Thomas delivered me to the medics and I waved him off, then I tried to tell them what was up, they shrugged and pointed to the medicine box and handed me an ice pack. My worst decision of the previous day, I wasn't carrying my phone, I knew that all I needed was for James to tell me off for being such a girl about it and to crack on through, but I didn't know how to ask for a phone. I ate some food, took some pain killers and decided to carry on and hope to see James passing through Interlaken.
After Beatenberg the road continues to climb for a few more kms before the descent, which did ease the pain a touch, but by this time I was just going through the pedal strokes with no real hope left. I was talking myself out of the race.
When I didn't see the guys at Interlaken I started to wonder if I'd see them at all - what if Mike was really quick and James just assumed I'd be fine and that I'd catch up? What if I missed them at Meiringen? I knew that once there I wouldn't see them until transition and that made me really unhappy. I can't believe I'm admitting to this, but I had a proper teenage angst bawling session.... riding along crying my eyes out then pretending to smile when I passed the race marshals. Eventually I just stopped, sat on a bench and gave in to the impending DNF and blubbed some more. One more rider passed me, then a few minutes later the broom wagon, then a race motorbike, neither one stopping to check I was okay (in full race kit with numbers on my jersey, bike and helmet!) That was it, game over, I cried some more!
A friendly elderly couple saw me and asked if I would like some coffee, I indicated in my best hand signals that I needed to use the phone, so the lady took me inside and showed me where it was and pottered off to make my coffee. No answer from James so I left some garbled message about meeting him outside the big hotel in Interlaken, then went to find the coffee. We sat and chatted for a while, she, Barbara, told me all about (I think) teaching the neighbour's children and baking them bread, she said the lake was cold and she'd pray for it to be warmer for next year for me, then I thanked them and set off for Interlaken feeling slightly less upset. It wasn't panning out to be quite the day I was expecting anymore.
I reached the hotel and waited for a while for James, but realised they'd have to re-route to find me, so decided to try another call - a friendly paraglide instructor let me use his phone, but again no reply, so I left a message to say I was heading towards Grindelwald, which I did. By now the pain killers had set in and I was royally peed off with my stupidity, so to punish myself I rode almost all the way on angry fumes until the friendly parp of our car horn and James and Rosie appeared. James' first words were 'well you can't be feeling that bad as you've just ridden all the way up here, we were expecting to find you ages ago'! How reassuring!!! I had just DNF'd because I forgot to take some sodding painkillers earlier on!!
I didn't really want to talk about it, so we set about supporting Mike and handing in my race chip - which hilariously made it look like I was doing great, cue concerned messages from friends and family tracking us to check that he was okay!! Mike was fine, but struggling a bit with a dodgy knee and I think he was a bit annoyed to see I'd given up so easily after talking him into this race 3 weeks after IM Zurich, oops!
The bonus of the DNF is that I got to eat actual proper food, hot chocolate and cake, the poop part is that I had to watch all the people who had passed me earlier on, still racing and going strong. Even Thomas who had said he was finished after the swim, sped up, overtook loads of people, including Mike and finished at the top of Schilthorn, just goes to show, the swim is not the important part, being a strong cyclist is way more valuable.
Mike finished the MTB, went out on the run (which if you remember isn't really!) and got as far as Murren in just over 12hrs, by which time they were stopping people from going further up the mountain. He did amazingly and I really feel like I let the side down. It all comes down to race day and being ready in body
and mind.
I still think I was Ironfit and am trying to find some races to do to prove it, if only to myself. We had a great few days after the race where I climbed some more cols and felt really strong on the bike, if still a little bruised when inhaling deeply, but nothing to justify being quite such a drama queen.
I am cross at myself for making such a complete balls up, but have decided that the best course of action is to conquer this race once and for all. Immediately afterwards Rosie and I thought that this race would require 3 attempts. Once to massively underestimate it and mess up (DNF), second attempt to finish, just, and third attempt to nail it and not get screwed up by altitude sickness!!
I think training to be Ironfit is not enough, I need to train like a pro. Personal training and regular massages and core strengthening classes, eating religiously and not drinking, training in the terrain and acclimatising are all key to getting quicker and stronger, so that's exactly what I intend to do. It does mean another year of being Mrs boring, but hopefully having friends around will help. I am drawing up an action plan which uses my current fitness level as my base fitness and racing more to improve speed and recovery..... so here's where you come in.....
If you've enjoyed reading about this fail please pass on to other people to read - triathletes, cyclists, swimmers, runners, anyone who can relate to this. If you know of any good races which will help feel free to let me know about them, better still, any entries going spare (I am still trying to do this on a shoestring!) Anyone who may want to follow my story, the more people I have to impress the harder it is to cop out when it gets tough, and maybe if you could offer some advice? All comments welcome....
Thanks for reading this, it WILL make me stronger.
