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Loch Gu Loch
Loch Ness. Photo Andy Kirkland
Less than 3 weeks after finishing Ötillö, we were on the start line for Loch Gu Loch, a Scottish Highlands version of the same race. Why? Because we wanted to do at least one of the new UK races this year and this is the only one we could make. Plus, it was run by the same people behind Celtman, so we knew it would be a good event. It’s always nice to be at the first edition of a race that could become iconic 🙂
Our accommodation and race HQ was at the stunning Highland Club, an old monastery at the southern end of Loch Ness. Sadly, we had to leave our cosy beds far too early in the morning to make our way blearily to the boat that would take us to the start, leaving at 5:30 am. Our table top doubled up as a full ‘info board’ and another time I’d have pored over it. Sadly, we couldn’t see anything outside because it was dark, and I was too preoccupied eating last minute snacks (BeetIt bar), queueing for the toilet and smearing myself with chamois cream.
See if you can find us! Orange socks, towards the right. Photo Steve Ashworth.
Urquhart Castle was the majestic setting for the start. Now it was just about light and we could admire it perched on an outcrop overlooking the loch. Once bags were dropped and photo shoots were done, we got into the allegedly very cold water. I was ready to go, but there seemed to be a long gap between getting in and the starting horn …
The general route of the race is to cross Loch Ness, climb the hill on the other side, then work back to the start, covering various smaller lochs before a final uphill sting, a trip via the many small islands of Loch Tarff and a descent back to cross Loch Ness to the finish. Total stated distance about 8km swimming and 47km running (we measured it 7.5km / 50km).
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- Swim start. Photo Steve Ashworth.
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- Acoss the loch – aim for the white splodge?! Photo Steve Ashworth.
I found the first leg particularly stressful. Unlike Ötillö, there had been no run to spread us out. I tried to follow the feet of Dechlan and Lyndsey (who were sharing our apartment), but they were just a touch too fast. Not to worry, they had bright green wetsuit arms and were perfect to sight off. I know Dechlan and trusted he would go the right way.
Later I tried to draft a guy with big blue paddles, but almost got whacked in the face. Izzy had been tapping my feet, which is normal. But then suddenly it seemed as if crowds of people had swarmed up and were about to overtake us. I was panicking, thinking I was swimming like a snail, and tried to speed up. I was swallowing water and felt a bit sick. As we came in to land, Izzy swam up beside me. Turns out she was caught up in the excitement and trying to beat some people next to us!
Water levels have risen a bit. Is that why this swim was 150m longer than we were led to believe? 😉 Photo Andy Kirkland
We were on dry land and Paul (one of the organisers) shouted a well done at us. We were off up the hill. Now I had terrible stomach cramps, one ear was full of water so I couldn’t hear properly, and my feet were so cold I couldn’t feel the ground. Izzy was great, running alongside and encouraging me along. One by one my problems subsided. I shook my head a few times and managed to unblock my ear. My feet gradually came back to life. And Izzy demonstrated how to do magnificent burps, so that my own eventually eased my stomach distress!
Towards the end of the first run, a few teams were catching us. We swam a small loch and got a cheer from my coach, Scott, who was on kayak duty. Next run, a few more teams came past. It seems we had been faster swimmers and now the good runners were making their mark.
Ready? Go! Photo Andy Kirkland
As we approached the first swim across Loch Mhor, we were ready to go. Our exits from the water still need a bit of polishing, but our entries are slick! We passed several teams milling about zipping their wetsuits up and getting kit sorted. We were straight in and swimming. We passed a couple more teams at the next aid station as we did our usual: drink a couple of cups and grab some food to eat on the way out. The piper appeared here, signalling our approach. Loved him, he kept popping up all over the place round the course!
Next up we reached Andy, marshalling a swim entrance. I knew this was the half way point. He told us what was going on at the front of the field, confirmed that we were first female pair and said we were about 8th overall. We were enjoying the swims and the terrain, which were very similar to what we’d trained on – unlike the trials of the slippery Ötillö rocks!
Action shot. Photo Steve Ashworth.
I think the pressure of knowing we were up front was stressing Izzy a bit. As we got to the next swim a marshal said cheerfully “first female pair!”. “Not any more!”, she blurted, as a mixed pair caught us up, with the chap having long hair! She apologised profusely … 😀
Another run and swim, and we started the longest run of the day: 16km of mixed off- and on- road, with a significant climb in the second half. Logic was telling me that our position was probably fairly secure. No other girls had caught us by the halfway point, the other people we’d left behind weren’t making ground – and if any other female pair were going to catch up, they’d have to be storming through the field to get to us. Our slick transitions and feed stops had given us an advantage, and now our endurance was kicking in.
Baaa! Photo Steve Ashworth.
Still, you can’t bank on anything in racing. We stayed alert to all the course markings. Some teams went wrong at a few places, but we didn’t have any difficulties following the course. Not only were we eagle eyed at every junction for potential arrows, I had also spent a lot of time memorising the map. It wasn’t a precise ‘photograph’, but I knew all the section lengths, major turns, terrain type, elevation profile and general direction.
As we climbed gradually on a section that pretended to be flat, we could see the scar of a road cresting a pass up ahead. I pointed, saying “I bet that’s where we’re going” … and so we were. We approached from a fire road and a nice path that zig-zagged up towards the viewpoint before continuing up and over the high point of the race. I’d been noting our pace and splitting the run into 5km chunks. I thought it was good news when I announced we probably only had 20-25 minutes to go to the swim. “25 minutes?!” shouted an exasperated Izzy, almost stamping her foot … Er, oops, sorry, that was meant to be encouraging!
There were beautiful views, but I was mindful of my footing. I wanted to let loose on the descent, but Izzy was more wary and was having a sugar slump. Luckily, we could see Loch Tarff below us and knew the feed station was right there.
Nearly finished the long run. Photo Steve Ashworth.
We were both tired now. A kayaker shouted at us – “head for the green arrow!”. But it was a small arrow, and I couldn’t see it! Still, we got there and fought through heather and bracken to get over and into the next bit. We clearly had some supporters here, with one guy singing ‘here come the giii-rls!’ and shouting our names – we don’t know who you were, but thanks!! Also Scott and Judyta were here again. Scott said we looked strong – I said we felt wasted! Later he said, if you felt like that, you should have seen how the people behind looked …
Coach! Photo Andy Kirkland
We finished the penultimate swim through a dark swampy, reedy mass, emerging to face the final 6km run.
6km, doesn’t sound like much, does it? But we were soon moving only slowly round the loch across trackless heather. We saw one of the big blue arrows on a white board up ahead pointing left, then could pick out a string of red arrows dancing straight up the hill. A team in front (the ones with the big blue paddles from the first swim!) went straight on, but they were out of earshot as we shouted out to them. As we started going up, they reappeared, having realised their mistake and corrected.
Now I was using my hands and could really feel our cord pulling. Suddenly Izzy had a mini meltdown. There were threats to unclip the cord (“what good would that do?”, I say), I got shouted at when I tried to push, and offers of food were useless as she felt sick and dizzy. We slowed and I just went at her pace. So long as we kept moving, I was happy. It wasn’t far to go. I think we both kept thinking, who might suddenly appear behind us?
The view of the finish line. All downhill from here! Photo Steve Ashworth.
We got to the top and the panoramic vista laid out below us was amazing. We could see the finish, and emotion welled up in me! A suggestion to start jogging this downhill bit was met with a positive response, as was a soggy packet of Honey Stingers. We were back on it!
A couple of teams had overtaken, but as we got to the fire road, we ate and drank again, then passed them. We even drew close to blue-paddles team again as they hesitated about the right way to go. We had our doubts too, as we went through someone’s gateway and across what looked like a fancy drive. Just as we started to wonder what to do, we saw a bit of tape in a tree. Phew! Down and down we went, this run was turning out to be longer than the stated 6km. 7.1km according our gps – cheeky!
Piper. Photo Steve Ashworth.
My big toe joint was killing me, but I ignored it. We jumped into the final swim just behind team 45, aka blue paddles, Jan and Matus Kriska. They were heading off at a funny angle, so I double-checked where we had to aim. We were told: just left of the abbey, the red flag. Well, red was pretty hard to see … but left of the grey towers of the abbey I could just about deal with. “So, not where they’re going?” I asked. No. So, off we went. My calf kept threatening to cramp, and I had to stop pointing my toes. Not very streamlined, but necessary!
Let’s swim again. Photo Andy Kirkland
Eventually we drew close. And then we grounded. Argh! We stood up and waded a bit, before I decided it was deep enough to swim again (i.e. knee deep). Then we swam to shore. I looked around for the dibber but was told, no not here – run for the finish! Andy was taking pictures. We took our hat and goggles off and organised ourselves for a side by side run up the steps and across the lawn.
Look at that! A tape! I’ve never got to break a finishing tape before! What excitement.
Finishing Line! Photo John Whittaker
We were soon wrapped up in foil blankets, drinking hot drinks. I was feeling all emotional again, but had to laugh at Andy wearing fine moss hair under his cap. We were astonished to find we were 5th overall. In the end, it was worth almost more than the win in our class, which turned out to be emphatic. Full results here. Short film here – see if you can spot us wading at the end!
Great support from the marshals and people we knew on course. Also to other competitors we made friends with or chatted to along the way. I couldn’t get over how many people thanked me or remarked on our top tips and videos – it’s great to know people found them useful, though I apologise for not remembering or knowing who you all were! 🙂
Silver blankets are de rigeur. Photo Andy Kirkland
Quite a few people have asked us how this race compares to Ötillö. I’d say it’s easier. This race is shorter and the swims are less difficult and dangerous. The terrain is more forgiving (providing, perhaps, you’re used to heather and bracken!). For comparison, we finished over 4h quicker despite ‘backing up’ with Ötillö, and our average speeds were higher. There are fewer transitions, so it’s easier to get into a rhythm. Having said all that, Loch Gu Loch has lots more hills, the swims are cold and it still counts as ‘tough’ in my book. I’ve heard it might be in the summer next year, which could make it a perfect preparation race if you happen to be doing Ötillö! It’s also a fine challenge in its own right.
Many thanks to Head / sportextreme.com, Gococo socks, BeetIt and Chia Charge (who also provided feed station snacks this time!). Also to the organisers for putting on a great event.
Time now to let my sore toe get better, wait for the tiredness go away and dust down my mountain bike 🙂
Ötillö – Swimrun World Championship 2015
At the finish line! The only picture of us actually racing …
After months of preparation we were on the start line for Ötillö at 6am in the gloom of early morning light. We’d already had two nights of ‘feels like we hardly slept at all’, experiencing an almighty thunderstorm back in Stockholm and an early start and nerves on Sandhamn. In our 3 days in Stockholm we had eaten enough to sink two battleships, had a delightful costume-only swim in a lake, kicked back in a sauna, gone for a 5km jog, contorted ourselves on a portable foam roller and met up with friends who popped over from Finland. We had left strange piles of empty beetroot juice bottles by the bins and scribbled all over my hand paddles. We were ready.
As several mixed couples had a pre-start kiss I felt left out … so I got a cheek-to-cheek and air kiss from Izzy! Then we were off. After running in silence for a minute or two Izzy said: “Thanks for doing this with me. I thought I should say it now in case I feel differently later”. I was equally grateful to be racing with her and couldn’t believe our moment was finally here.
The first swim at sunrise
As we got to the beach we looked across the expanse of sea to the next island. 1.7km, just over a mile. There was a strobe light, but as soon as we got in, I lost sight of it and just aimed for a suitable looking bit of land. We had plenty of other racers around us and were overtaking those who had set off fast. I got disorientated part way over, seeing rocks on the seabed below us. How was it so shallow in the middle?! The first time I got a taste of the water I was pleasantly surprised. It was almost like a salty sports hydration drink, and did not induce the sort of sounds that we get from North Sea mouthfuls (think; cat with a fur ball in its throat).
As soon as we got out we were in for a shock. It doesn’t matter how many photos you look at, how many videos you watch or how many people you speak to who have been there before. You can’t know how the terrain really is until you experience it. Slabs of wet, slippery rock and boulders. I am not the most sure-footed and Izzy felt worse. Our practice attempts at uneven get-ins and outs were no match for this!
Team after team streamed past us. I tried to stay calm and kept moving until the next short swim, when I slipped forwards. I could feel myself going and did a ‘superman’ move to distribute the impact, bashing my knee hard and scuffing my palms. Someone helped me up and we jumped right in the water. I felt a bit shaky and my knee was sore. I imagined I had cracked my knee cap, until I realised that was probably ridiculous and I had better just get on with the job in hand.
The golden source of information all day
Some time later we had just 4.5km run to get to the first checkpoint. I checked the scribbles: we were well off our target pace. But, hang on! I suddenly realised we were cutting it fine to even make the cut-off, something I had not anticipated at all. We had 35 minutes, no problem for a normal run, but we had no idea what the terrain would be like and we had already been on the move for 2.5 hours. There was no way we could allow ourselves to go out of this race, let alone at 9am.
Soon we were breathing heavily and finding it hard to talk. When I asked Izzy to check our pace on her gps watch we were under 5 minutes / km. Panic spurred us on and we fell into transition with 14 minutes to spare. Little did we know it, but we were almost at the back of the field, with only about 15 teams behind.
From that point on I kept an eagle eye on the time cut offs. I knew we had to build more of a buffer. The effort had taken a lot out of us and we were using the tow. I was worried because I knew I couldn’t pull for the long 20km run to come. Izzy later said she had been feeling low as well, demoralised by our difficulties on the rocks.
Difficult sea conditions
Although the first swim had felt fairly tame, things were going to get more interesting. Several of the crossings had strong crosswinds, currents and waves. I am sure if I had been on holiday and stood on the rocks looking out to sea I’d have decided it wasn’t possible (or safe) to swim. But here we were, clambering in and setting off towards another elusive strobe light.
We already knew that small-looking waves on land can seem huge when you’re in them with just your head above water. But these appeared quite big to start with! A few times I’d turn to breathe and almost roll over, getting a wave right over my mouth and missing a breath.
We also had to aim to the right of where we actually wanted to go. This was quite fun, as you could physically feel the angle of the wind and currents against you, and by keeping this angle constant go in a straight line. It almost reduced the need for sighting! Which was useful, since half the time all I saw when I lifted my head up was water …
It felt dangerous and it felt exhilarating. Most of the time we were strong and effective and knew we were passing or leaving teams behind on each swim.
Some interesting places to get out
I did have one aiming glitch, when we came the wrong way round a rocky outcrop and got grounded in shallow water. After one swim I felt tired, so we swapped the lead for the next – and I apologise to Izzy for my inability to follow properly!
The second cut off came and went and now we started making good time, moving at the pace we had hoped to go at from the start. We still only had 31 minutes in hand though. We tried to be efficient in feed stations, stopping to drink two or three cups of water or energy drink and picking up food to eat whilst we walked out and kept moving.
The infamous ‘pig swim’ loomed large. I almost wished no-one had told us anything about this difficult swim! But in the briefing we were informed some people might take an hour over it. Really? For 1400m? At any rate, I was determined this would not be us and set my stop watch as we got in.
We emerged smiling and triumphant on the other side after 29 minutes of swimming. My swimming mojo had returned 🙂 . We had spectators here, cheering and handing us a Twix bar. Izzy asked me something but I could only say “I’m trying to climb up these rocks, eat a Twix and do a wee all at the same time … but I will answer when at least one of those things is finished with!” We passed through the third cut off with 61 minutes to spare.
Tricky terrain in the woods
The next section of the race is a bit of a haze. I am not sure what happened, but we slowed down somewhat. My knee was sore from both the fall and the slight injury I was carrying from an adventure race in Ireland 5 weeks earlier. We were tiring of the hard conditions underfoot. We were also moving inexorably closer towards the 20km run section, which I was more afraid of than the pig swim.
Finally we were there, 55 minutes before the cut off. I was doing a lot of mental calculations about how fast we needed to move to make the final time cut. I knew it should be OK but also knew we were both tired. Our legs were sore and quads were burning. I burbled out loud to Izzy who pretended to sound interested, in much the same way as she had when I tried to describe our swims against the wind in terms of vectors of the forces acting against us relative to our direction of intended travel …
Physics in action
The result was that we had to run each km in at least 8 minutes. I decided to set my stopwatch and ask for a distance check every 8 minutes. All very well in theory, though by the time we were getting to 12 x 8 and beyond, the maths was making my head hurt. Not to worry; it was a great distraction.
After 8 minutes we’d done 1.3km. After 16, 2.5km. Then a tricky section where we only covered 1km in the time slot. Soon we were back on wide tracks and asphalt roads. The km ticked by and we gained 200-300m every 8 minutes.
We rewarded ourselves with a pack of Honey Stingers (pomegranate) halfway to the first feed station. We passed through someone’s back garden and a lady with a team list shouted “Go Rosemary! Rule Britannia!” – now that’s dedicated supporting! Small children sat on the verges shouting “Heja! Heja!” and our feet fell into the rhythm of their chants.
As we stuck to our own pace, we steadily passed teams. 10 of them, in fact. I’m sure I saw a snake as we tripped along, but Izzy was beyond caring (unless it ate her, in which case, she stated, she’d be pleased it had ended the run). Enthusiasm was dipping somewhat but we pushed on, maintaining an average speed of 6:09/km, which I was pretty pleased with considering we were already nearly 50km in to this race at the start of it! To Izzy’s displeasure I insisted we wriggled back into our wetsuits before the start of the next swim, on a section that had us walking anyway. And soon we were back at the sea, the final cut off, 39 minutes to spare.
After a moment where I celebrated and Izzy greeted a playful dog, we just had the final section to go. We were going to do this thing. A bit of running, a bit of swimming.
The trouble was that we no longer trusted our legs. They were wobbly on the uneven stones and refused to work as we hauled ourselves out of each swim. The transitions we’d practised so often were getting slower and more fiddly and no sooner had we got our legs working on the ‘runs’ (walks?) it was time to swim again. Finding the route, watching for the colourful marker strips in the trees that had shown the way like a dance all day. Sometimes we couldn’t see them even as they were right in front of our eyes. Our pace had dropped again. Perhaps without the focus of the cut offs our minds were less strong to will our tired bodies on.
Try doing this when you’re tired
At last we started the final 3.2km run. We forced ourselves to ignore our screaming muscles and run properly. As we looked up ahead I remarked “oh, a phalanx of teams”. We drew closer and saw that Pippa Middleton (celebrity sister of Kate Middleton, royal, in case you’re not up with these things … ) was amongst them. Our friends had urged us to make sure we beat her, and I admit we were surprised she had still been in front of us! We might have sped up somewhat as we gunned for the line. 1.5km more and we were faced with a cruel uphill finish. Then we were there.
We celebrated, we moved forwards, I collapsed onto a bench and started crying from all the emotion. We had actually made it! We had (as is my wont) under-estimated the difficulty of the undertaking. We had our highs and lows, times when we felt weary and wondered how we’d ever finish in time, and times when we were high on the craziness of what we were doing. Now we had done it. We had finished a World Championship race and we were proud.
I won’t lie. The week after has been tough … talk about post-race blues! The body and joints are tired and achey, my knee hurts and my emotional state is unpredictable at best 😉 . The thoughts of ‘we could have done better’ are creeping in, and we have moved from ‘not next year’ to ‘maybe next year, if we could get in again’. We both want to conquer those slippery rocks that drained us of so much physical and mental energy and time at the start!
Izzy is emphatic that it is the toughest thing she has ever done (despite several Ironmans and Celtman under her belt). I probably agree: multi-day adventure races are a test of sleep deprivation and endurance but the intensity is much lower.
I still keep reminding myself that only 1 in 4 people who want to do this race are selected to start. We swam 10km and ran 65km in one day. Two things I have never achieved before. I will hold onto those facts, even though they seem unreal 🙂 .
Many thanks to our sponsors and supporters for this race: Head (wetsuit and goggles) Gococo socks (blister free compression heaven) and BeetIt (nitrate power). It has been pointed out I should thank my long-suffering colleagues, friends, family and boyfriend for putting up with almost a year of Ötillö chat, trials and tribulations. Also my coach, Scott, for his sage advice. And finally, my straight-talking physio Graham, who has endless patience, a cheeky sense of humour and without whom I might not have even made it to the start line.
Now all we need to do is recover enough to do it all over again at Loch Gu Loch – a Scottish equivalent based around Loch Ness, but slightly shorter. Then I can get my bike back out and slide gracefully into winter racing.
Isoman Triathlon
Isoman is described as ‘triathlon evolved’. The principle is that each discipline takes about the same amount of elapsed time and therefore, theoretically, each has equal importance. Back in my university days (when I only swam and ran) I might have agreed, but now I’m not so sure!
In any case, Izzy and I entered this race because it fitted well with our Ötillö swimrun training plans. I also like doing new things. There was a full distance event at 11km swimming, 90km biking and 42km running. Despite flirting with that idea, we had both sensibly gone for the half distance instead.
Anyone who knows anything about triathletes will know that many of them dislike the swim and see it as something to get out of the way. In contrast, this event was a swimmer’s race. Despite a very accessible 45km bike leg, and a tough but achievable half marathon run, entrants to the half still had to be up for a 5.6km swim!
Preparation for the race had been far from ideal. Although I had done most of my training, work had been more manic than it has been for years. Lots of late nights, shortened sleeps and extra stress. I also did not target this race and my taper, such as it was, was merely an easy week beforehand. I arrived at the race fit, but not exactly zingy!
And so we found on a sunny morning in Redditch that we were lining up for a four lap, star-shaped swim of the lake in Arrow Valley Country Park. The water was green and murky, which makes a change from the brown and murky that I’m used to. It was also really warm. Although the swim was much longer than usual, the pattern of racing was the same. Some people shot off, I started at a sensible pace, found myself bridging groups and gradually overtaking towards the end. I got into a kind of metronomic state, with my arms swinging over as I counted strokes and sighted every 12th. It was calm and the banks were close, so it was quite easy to swim in straight lines. I saw Izzy as we went under the timing mat for the last lap.
My time was much slower than for the similar length swim race in Manchester, but I had been acutely aware of making sure I could still stand and safely ride a bike afterwards. My last road triathlon had involved a heavy crash off the bike out of transition and I didn’t fancy a repeat! Still, I was more than happy with the consistency of my lap times (24:16, 24:46, 24:46, 25:12).
One unique aspect of this event is that the transitions are timed out for up to 7 minutes (T1) and 5 minutes (T2). So I took my time to go through smoothly and even say hello to Izzy as she came in just after me!
Trying not to suffer too much on the run
Out onto the bike leg. I was riding my new time trial bike for the first time in a race. In fact, it was only about the fourth time I had ridden it all, and certainly the furthest I had ever been on it! The first part of the ride was on a dual carriageway. The traffic was very light, but I was too afraid of excessive wobbles to check over my shoulders for cars and was mostly concerned with staying upright! Once we got onto the county lanes I settled down a lot and my next concern was how to drink. I had forgotten to practice this bit … It was wobbly, but I managed it by dint of slowing down. After a while I even found that I was enjoying myself. My average speed was just under 30km/h. I’d be happy with that over double the distance on my road bike, but I’m sure there’s room for improvement there!
A perfectly timed 5 minute transition and I was out on the run. I had really been looking forward to this part. It was to be a test of how much I’ve improved recently. However, after about 5 minutes my shins started screaming at me. They were really painful. I decided the best cure would be to tell them to shut up and keep on running 🙂 It felt like I had to slow to a jog though. Sure enough, after about half an hour whatever the problem was resolved itself and I felt fantastic.
About 10 minutes later I started to melt … The sun was beating down, far more than I am used to ‘up North’. It must have been at least hitting the heady heights of 25 degrees. I took a cup of fluid at every aid station but the tell-tale signs of heat exhaustion / dehydration were kicking in. Shivers, wooziness, swollen hands. I gritted my teeth and kept plugging away, knowing the end was near. As soon as I fell over the line I crawled into the shade of a bouncy castle to drink and cool down.
Izzy at the finish
The facts do not lie, my two times were only 18secs apart. Which is strange as they didn’t feel the same! I was disappointed with my run time (which was 10-15 minutes slower than I had hoped for), but knew I couldn’t have done any more on the day. The race was much harder than I expected. Which is back to this business of being equalised … Compared to a middle distance triathlon, we had basically swapped an hour and a bit of biking for the same of swimming. And I’m fairly sure that biking hard is less tiring than swimming hard. A bit of results analysis also shows that for over two thirds of the field, final positions didn’t vary by more than 5 places from when they exited the water.
Eventually after various revisions of results, I was confirmed as 3rd female / 10th overall. It was a shame podium positions were only given to winners, but it doesn’t change the result. An interesting touch is an award for ‘most equal’ athlete based on time. I placed 6th in this competition and wonder what could have been if I hadn’t been so knocked out on the run! Izzy was 4th / 16th, so it was a good day out.
Overall I had enjoyed the race, despite my body reeling for a couple of days afterwards from the effects of the heat! It was well organised and the marshals were friendly. There was every opportunity for people to take part, with a quarter distance race and options to enter single discipline races as well, which Andy happily availed himself of (beating my half marathon time by 5 minutes!).
Andy found it hot as well!
Next up is the Beast of Ballyhoura, a 72h team adventure race in Ireland, which happens to be the European Championships and somehow slipped into my diary in a moment of inattention 😉
Pentland Solstice Triathlon
For a few years I’ve had the Solstice Triathlon on my radar, but the day or date have never been suitable until this year. Opening of entries was delayed due to issues with landowner permission. But Twitter told me it was suddenly available and I jumped in – it was sold out within a day or two. The race didn’t have anything to do with my swimrun or other racing plans, but I knew it would be fun!
This is an off-road triathlon in the Pentland Hills, just outside Edinburgh, where I train a lot. The week before, a group of us went up to ride the course, led by Andreas who is also in my club. We got a good look at some of the best lines and I went home satisfied I had done some prep. Next week we got an email saying the bike route had changed! Oops. Oh well, at least I had made sure everything was working on my mountain bike 🙂
Jo Thom has won this race since it started and I was looking forward to a close battle with her. Sadly, with an on-the-mend injury she had to make the decision to play it safe and withdraw. I think resisting the urge to join in and defend her trophy was the harder thing to do.
Getting ready. Plenty of people to chat to
I got a lift up from work with Andreas. I could tell there was some tension – this was his first triathlon for 6.5 years! It was colder than I expected and there was a strong wind. We shuttled back and forth between the car and registration, with Andreas picking up a puncture from a massive thorn! Better then than before the race, though now I was paranoid about my own rear tyre which had been slowly deflating in previous days. I hoped the extra slug of sealant the night before would keep it up.
The briefing. Feeling pretty chilly for standing around
Before the briefing I got right into my wetsuit, jumped up and down and swung my arms around to keep warm. It felt weird to be in a full length swimming wetsuit again. We got into the water and people were oohing and ahhing about how cold it was. ‘I think it’s about 10 degrees!’ someone exclaimed. I said ‘nah, about 13’ … who knows for sure, but it was definitely warmer than 10 😉 .
I must be somewhere near the front-ish
Off we went, heading towards an invisible buoy. I started off trying to sight but soon gave up and followed everyone else. I did my usual and got into no-man’s land in a gap between two groups. As we neared the finish I just about caught up with the lead group, but really I should have been trying to draft them all the way. Another lap and I’d have been right past 😀 . These 750m swims seem short these days.
How do I get this thing off?
My transition felt slow but I was methodical. I was soon off on my mountain bike with the wind at my tail, racing off to the first hill. Andreas passed me here, powering past and away. My glasses had steamed up which was extremely irritating. I had lenses in, so considering stuffing them into my trisuit pocket, but wasn’t sure they’d be secure. Down the other side and I still couldn’t see; not ideal! The next turn was a sharp hairpin straight into the next hill. My calf almost cramped so I eased off for a minute or two. Up this side I was glad it had been very dry recently, as it is rutted and would be hard going when wet. As it was, I still picked the wrong line once or twice and had to jump off. At least I could see again now.
Heading out
A fast descent on a deep loose stony surface followed. A couple of guys flew past, but I wasn’t taking any risks. I don’t need an injury now! I also slowed for the water bars to make sure I didn’t hit them too hard or at the wrong angle. I think a few people punctured coming down here, but I was soon through and firing on again.
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- Heading up the last rocky hill
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- Feeling good now!
Compared to the old course, this route was more technical and harder going. The climbing isn’t over after the first two hills. There are couple more ‘stings in the tail’ to come. I actually started feeling really good on the last one, which was fortunate as then we turned into the headwind towards transition. I was in a little world of my own, as there were very few other riders about. As I rounded the corner, I was met by loud cheers and clapping and the hustle and bustle of transition. I was a bit taken aback!
Into the headwind now, final leg
Bike times on the new course were 10-15 minutes slower than last year. The run had been shortened to make sure everyone could get home in time for bed. So it was just a 3.5km blast round Harlaw reservoir to finish. This route is really familiar to me as I’ve trained here many times with Izzy, ‘finely honing’ (ahem) our swimrun technique. I felt pretty good. I ran not knowing how close the next lady might be and soon was over the finish line and sat in a little heap.
Favourite running photo ever so far!
Final results were that I had won and was 6.5 minutes clear of 2nd place. I was 9th overall. Andreas had smashed it round the bike course 2 minutes faster than anyone else and held on to win the men’s race. An Edinburgh RC win-win! It was suggested we drive home shaking our splendid trophies out of the window and shouting …
A great wee race, well organised and complete with free transition towel, banana, hot food, water and waffle. I’ll keep an eye out for it again next year!
Many thanks to Pentland Triathletes for organising the race, Andreas for giving me lifts, Bob Marshall and Hamish MacDonald for the photos (the labelled and unlabelled ones respectively) and to everyone who cheered, held open gates and helped make it a great event.
Now, back to swimrunning and other endurance adventures …
ps rear tyre has stayed more inflated than it has been for months!
Borås Swimrun
According to the race briefing notes 🙂
“And by “I don´t have a partner” I don´t mean match making but a partner for the race. Use our FaceBook page for any last minute replacements or requests. Who knows what a new race partner will lead to though…”
This bit was easy. Izzy and I are racing at Ötillö in September and we needed to practice! We chose Borås swimrun, to the east of Gothenburg. It fitted our schedule, was relatively cheap and easy to get to and a good first race distance to try. The format was similar, but instead of swimming between and running across islands, we swam in little pools, zig-zagged across a large lake and ran up a lot of hills. Overall, 14 runs totalling 29km and 13 swims totalling 5km.
A view down the length of Öresjö. Looks a long way!
Unfortunately, Izzy got sick on Monday night before the race and didn’t eat for two days. Luckily, by Thursday she had enough energy to pack, but even at the airport on Friday she was feeling a bit unsteady. Uh oh! Saturday’s plan was to eat and eat …
“For a complete information regarding accommodation please visit http://www.borasboras.se. Yes, that´s right, TWO Borås in that web address – that´s how awesome Borås is!”
Well, we didn’t use the website because a friend at my Italian class had told us all about airbnb. I’d never heard of it before, but after a quick search, we were booked in to stay with the lovely Peter and Monica just outside town. More on their generous hosting later, but this worked out really well for us.
“And for the love of God, make sure to cut your wetsuits above the knee joint! You´ll thank me after the race…”
Almost everyone at Ötillö chops the arms and legs off their wetsuits. This makes it easier to run, reduces the risk of chaffing your bendy bits (backs of knees, insides of elbows) and means you can easily pull your wetsuit off your upper body to run if you want to.
Chop, chop …
Ouch!
Despite laughing when I read a race report from last year, where the competitor had chopped their wetsuit at the start line, we found ourselves with this job still to do on Saturday! One of the advantages of staying with a family was we could ask to borrow scissors. Even better, Monica works with textiles and is a designer, so we got a proper pair to use!
We spent all morning drawing lines on our suits and cutting bits off them. This was followed by some intensive dry land transition practice, which was when Peter arrived home. We hastily explained why we were running round his house, joined with a bungee cord and wearing wetsuits, pull buoys, swimming hats and goggles. He just looked slightly bemused 😀
“We won´t, however, distribute smaller race maps for you, the competitors. In our experience they don´t really serve a purpose and are never looked at. To keep track of the course we recommend you to write down all the swims and runs on your hand paddles or fore arms. Maybe even get a tattoo with it.”
We had hired a car so it was easy to drive out to the race area in the afternoon and have a look around. We went on a little walk round some of the course, and I studied the maps. It was all becoming clear what we had to do, though looking down the lake and knowing we would be right at the far end, out of sight, was a bit daunting!
Route notes, side 1
I also wrote all the route stages on a small piece of paper and laminated it in an unused membership card holder. After I had done that and looked at the map many times, I had the route firmly ‘tattooed’ onto my mind!
“Weather: We will have weather”
We could feel the wind buffeting the car on the way to the start on Sunday morning. But when we arrived the lake (Öresjö) looked fairly calm. I mused that perhaps further down, it would be less sheltered and the wind would have got some waves up. I wish I’d been wrong!
The day before. Everything looks so tranquil …
The water hadn’t warmed up as much as the organisers had hoped, so the long swim at the end had been shortened. We did still have to do 5km in total, with one leg of 1.3km. The water was about 11ºC. Cold, but not unlike our training conditions. Unfortunately, we hadn’t yet swum in a wetsuit with missing bits, but there was nothing we could do about that now!
“Since we have a lot of teams on hand and a very narrow beginning of the first run, we´ll send off every category separately to avoid any unnecessary queuing. If you still end up queuing you may consider this a blessing in disguise as the first run features an ascend of 120 metres. SMART PEOPLE WALK THE START (official race slogan)”
With about 10 minutes to go we were standing in all our kit ready to go and listening to the briefing. I was looking at everyone else’s clothing and kit choices, to see what we could learn. Suddenly I noticed timing chips on people’s ankles. Argh! Where was ours?! Izzy sprinted back to the car to retrieve it just in time!
Then we were on the start line. Izzy suddenly said to me ‘Don’t go charging off at the start!’ I looked at her, surprised. ‘But I thought that’s exactly what we’d agreed to do, to avoid the queue on the hill?’. ‘I’ve changed my mind’ she said, and I could tell from the look of panic on her face that I’d better listen! So we ran to the hill at a steady pace and walked up.
It was really not a bad strategy, as for the next hour or so we just steadily caught and passed team after team. We didn’t need to ‘burn our matches’ so early in such a long race.
The first run. Theoretically we’re probably in shot somewhere, at the back of the line. Photo credit: Johan Valkonen
I was sure that we could save a lot of time just being smooth in our transitions. As we neared the top of the hill, I knew the first short swim was close. We went through the routine we’d rehearsed the day before and would repeat throughout the day:
‘zipped up?’ / ‘zipped!’
‘unlooped bungee?’ / ‘yes!’
‘goggles on?’ / ‘goggles on!’
‘paddles ready?’ / ‘ready!’
Then, right at the water’s edge: ‘pullbuoy round?’ / ‘yes!’
‘OK, in we get … ready to go?’ / ‘let’s go!!’
The middle section of the race was one of the hardest. After a number of shorter runs and swims, we had our first big crossing of Öresjö. We were swimming well, despite the waves hitting us from the right. I seemed less thirsty after the three big swims, probably due to the amount of lake I accidentally swallowed! This won’t be so convenient in the sea water of Ötillö.
We overtook a lot of people here, but at one point I started to feel cold and irrationally panicky. I reminded myself of the race briefing: ‘if you get cold, keep swimming!’. I was very relieved to make land on the other side. I think we were being filmed as I shouted ‘we made it!’. A short run round a hill and we were heading back across the lake. It didn’t seem so bad the second time.
“from reading the rules on our web site you should know that your biggest security out there will be your partner. And vice versa. Stay together!”
We were racing using a bungee tow cord. This is quite standard in adventure racing but a strange concept to many triathletes. In the water, it kept us close together. When it was busy, it meant we didn’t lose each other. When we had to cross wide expanses of open water, with the wind whipping up waves and creating white horses it was reassuring for me to know Izzy was never more than 3m away. Practically speaking, by removing the need to keep checking on where we each were meant one less thing to think about. This was significant when also trying to breathe, sight and swim fast enough to stay warm!
Just about smiling still!
Before the start. At last I don’t look like I’m dressed strangely any more …
We did learn it was easy to get tangled up in a bungee when getting out though – something we’re already thinking about how to fix!
The second use is on land, if one of the pair is feeling stronger than the other. I was towing Izzy behind me, feeling the tug on the cord as I gave a helping hand. A race like this is all about teamwork and getting to the finish line as quickly as possible – but still together!
“All race officials will wear yellow vests with a Borås Swimrun logo on them. Be nice to them! The race officials that is. Not the vests.”
As we passed spectators and aid stations, the support was amazing. Every time, people cheered and clapped and shouted. Many things were said to us. Here’s our quick guide to conversing in Swedish during a race:
| They say | You say |
| Anything that sounds cheerful, enthusiastic or welcoming | Hej hej! |
| Anything preceding the offer of food or water, or showing the way | Tack! |
| Anything that sounds like important information | OK! |
It was funny when we’d get into the water and Izzy would ask me ‘did you get all that?’. I’d say ‘um, swim to the red flag?’ … I wondered what else there was to say. Perhaps, watch out for killer piranhas?
After running up and down another hill it was time for the longest swim, of 1.3km. The house and garden we were aiming for looked obvious when we started. But soon we seemed to lose sight of other competitors, and sometimes I couldn’t see where we had to go. Each time I sighted, I might see the house we were aiming for, or I might get a view of nondescript land or a wave instead! Halfway over I felt a bit alone and had to stop to double check we were going the right way. We were. My pullbuoy kept working its way down my leg, which was annoying.
Pre race contemplation
At last we could see the landing flag clearly, but there were reeds between us and it. We tried to swim through but they were sharp and unyielding! How frustrating. We had to detour upwind to get round them. Other swimmers came in higher than us and were fine. If there’s a next time I’ll remember this!
Then we hit another patch. They looked smaller this time and we wanted this swim to be over. I could feel my buttocks shaking, whether from cold or tension, I wasn’t sure. We just barged through this time, getting scratches on face, arms and legs. Izzy, who was behind me, seemed to emerge less scathed – perhaps my paddles had hacked a path through!
“DNF (did not finish): Do not DNF.”
We were out, running, but soon back to a river. We got some more unintelligible instructions, but it turns out these ones might have been important. I just got in and started going upriver. I’d told Izzy this was a short swim, and distance-wise, it was. But the current was strong, and the water tasted funny. We kept hitting logs beneath the surface and I saw some people resting at the sides. It was taking forever to get anywhere and I was desperately looking for the exit round every bend.
Racers leave the river of doom. Think our faces probably looked a bit like this too! Photo credit: Johan Valkonen
Soon enough, up ahead I could see fallen trees blocking the way, and a clutch of other racers. I paused to tread water and see what was going on, but was getting dragged backwards! This was quite scary, so I powered forward and caught onto a log. It moved and I had to let go as it floated away. Then I grabbed another and hung on, feeling my legs pulling away from me downstream until Izzy was there too and we could talk. Everyone was getting out, so we followed them and made our way along the shore briefly before jumping back in for a short stretch.
Suddenly we were at an aid station and a timing mat. There were loads of people shouting and cheering. I felt dazed and slightly traumatised!!
“When running on a road, a path or a trail we won´t have as many markers. The rule follows; ”keep running forward until a sign tells you otherwise!” If you, by any chance, find yourself running on said road or trail for a very VERY long time and/or the sun sets, chances are you´ve run the wrong way. Turn back and run back the same way you came. If, on the off-chance someone actually do run the wrong way, we´ll have ice cream for you in the finish area, a free start for next year, a compass and a shoulder to cry on. DON´T RUN THE WRONG WAY!”
As we approached aid stations we’d check what we doing. Were we stopping, and what for? This way we could coordinate and move on quickly without getting annoyed with each other or wasting time. We did carry some food and water and were testing how well this worked. We learnt: soft bottles down a wetsuit leg can easily work their way out. A hard bottle in a flipbelt stays put but is slightly awkward to get in and out. Pockets on the backs of jerseys are hard to use. Pockets in the fronts of wetsuits are easy to use.
I was surprised how difficult it all was. Stuart, a former Ötillö racer, had warmed us that the constant in and out of cold water and change of activity was hard, and he was right. Throughout the race, there was so much to think about. Keeping track of the stages, knowing when a swim was coming up and preparing to transition, planning around aid stations and sighting on the swims. All this will have taken energy and added to the physical demands of constantly getting cold and having to warm up again. It was definitely not the same as swimming 5km then running 29km!
The exit from the first long lake crossing. Photo credit: Johan Valkonen
On we pressed. This is the first time Izzy and I have raced together. I was looking for clues about how she was feeling; in footfall, breathing, talking and the amount of pull on the tow rope. As we moved along the longest run sections, I could tell she was finding it hard as well.
Even so, we were still steadily catching and passing quite a few male pairs. Despite how we felt, the results show that we were strong in the section after the timing mat, making up ground on (though not catching) the team in front of us, and moving away from the team behind us.
A random short swim across a pond and back was actually a relief, despite us forgetting to zip up our suits. I knew the end was in sight from here, and kept pulling Izzy along and trying to crack jokes. I think I managed one or two laughs, though my ‘chariots of fire’ rendition near the end may have left something to be desired!
“podium placings will receive nice prizes and a lot of admiration from everyone else.”
We had absolutely no idea where we stood in the placings. It’s possible that some of the excited cheering was telling us something, but we didn’t know. Even if we’d kept track at the start it would be impossible to see who was passing who on the swims.
About an hour before the end, I thought I’d seen a girl climbing out in front of us, but wasn’t sure. I knew in any case that we were going as hard as we could, and that what seems close in the water can be much further on land. I decided to minimise potential stress and kept quiet.
As we finished, we got a hug and medal from the race director. Then he told us ‘you are 3rd female team!’. We were ecstatic and hugged each other and jumped up and down and hugged him again, even though we were wet. In fact, the 2nd placed girls had been just two minutes in front and had known we were behind, so had felt the pressure! 1st place were a long way ahead. We were 15th overall out of 80 finishers, though several teams had to withdraw due to the cold and plenty of others appeared not to start at all. Full results here. We were delighted. This was our first ever swimrun, our first race as a team and we did it off the back of a bad week for Izzy.
We also learnt so much that will help us in September. Right now the thought of doing double that distance is daunting, but at least we are prepared!
“You´ll get some delicious food served after finishing the race.”
“We’re vegetarian. Do you have anything?”.
“You like pasta, yes? You could pick the chicken out?”
Er … No thanks, maybe we’ll just go and buy a cake and drink tea out of a glass before heading into town for a giant Thai tofu curry!
Remind me, which country were we in again? Sweden does giant flags
We got home tired but satisfied. Peter and Monica had put the sauna on and we were soon indulging in ‘therapeutic’ heat treatment. Something we’d have never got elsewhere!
Many thanks to our sponsors and supporters. Especially Head, whose wetsuit was invaluable and designed for the job. Also BeetIt for giving us the best start and Chia Charge for on the move nutrition and post-race protein bar. Next time we should also be wearing Gococo compression socks – more on those later!
Finally, thanks to Jonas Colting for putting on a great race. I’m sorry I was concentrating too hard on everything else to admire more of the scenery. But he did the most entertaining briefing notes I’ve ever read and everything went smoothly. Prizes were running shorts from Salming and free entry for next year. Let’s see how we feel about that later! 😀
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- Third. Come back and do it all again next year!
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- It took until Monday morning to find a good bun cafe. Too long.
More about Ötillö – this year’s Big Race!
So, it’s been some time since I got over excited in the office about getting to race Ötillö this year. You can read more about it here.
Every year, in about October or November, I start thinking about what my ‘big race next year’ might be. In 2012 it was Celtman. I devoted 2013 to triathlon, particularly the Scottish middle distance championships. In 2014 it was all about Itera.
Training tip 1: persuade your friends to make you an Ötillö cake.
I like to have something to work towards, something that I might not be able to achieve tomorrow, or next month, but that is doable in 9 months’ time. I also like endurance races, something quirky and not too mainstream.
So, at the end of last year my eye alighted on Ötillö. I’ve looked at this race several times before and decided it wasn’t for me due to the ‘excessive’ amount of running (65km in total). However, the effect a couple of expedition length adventure races can have on you is that what before were seemingly daunting distances provoke a reaction akin to ‘oh, only …?’. I also got inspired by an episode of the Adventure Show (an ace BBC2 Scotland programme, which airs sort-of monthly, following adventurous races and other goings on!). There was a segment on two chaps running up and down mountains, looking free and comfortable. I wanted to be like them and thought why can’t I run further??
Running with a hint of fish
And so the wish was born. With a lack of other options grabbing my eye, I set about finding a race partner. This was easier said than done. I encountered a variety of reasons for being turned down, ranging from being a teacher and having to work on a Monday, being too busy studying for exams, concern over getting too cold in the water, expecting a baby, not being able to swim and plain old ‘don’t have time to train for that’. I was also ideally looking for someone who I knew, located somewhere nearby (ish) and of a similar ability to me in both swim and run. I didn’t want big mismatches in either discipline as I thought it could become frustrating.
Eventually, as I almost gave up hope, I found Izzy … so close to home I couldn’t believe I didn’t think of her earlier! She’s even in the same club as me and we had a close race at the inaugural Celtman. Even better, she said ‘yes!’ and the race was on to get our application submitted.
Running with a hint of water
Since then I have been training! Lots of running. If you’ve been reading my blog, you’ll know I had problems with my hip back in October. After several physio sessions and some determined doing-of-prescribed-exercises, I have been going from strength to strength – pun intended! Whereas the last few years I managed to race on about 20-25km a week, if I was lucky, I can now squeeze in 50km a week and I’m going faster. I find myself wondering since when did running become a valid form of transport? I run to work, the pool and even friend’s houses (“hello, how are you, may I use your shower?”).
Lean, mean, racing machine
Swim training has been interesting. I have found that I can now keep up with the front guys in my lane and go faster than I have for many years. I suspect that I have not got physically better, but that there are strong psychological factors at play. I know I need to swim harder, there is a reason to get better at it, and I therefore believe I need to / can have a go at keeping up with them. 10km of swimming is a rather different prospect to a 1.5km triathlon bimble 😀 .
Learn to swim, Stockholm metro style
There have been other things to think about too. Like getting to know Izzy better (we’d only really spoken a handful of times before), reading up about the race and getting kit sorted.
In this regard, we’re delighted to announce that Head Swimming are sponsoring us! They are the only company to offer a full line up of swimrun specific wetsuits. This sport is really popular in Nordic countries, where the brand already has a strong following. We are lucky to be able to train and race in a top of the range suit, so we’ll have no excuses there! If you’re doing any swimrun events and want to know more about what to look out for, just ask. More on that later, with a wetsuit review to come 🙂 .
We’ve also started experimenting with paddles, pull buoys and run tows. We have two great options for open water swimming nearby, but the water has barely warmed up enough to get in (for me, at least!). We braved it twice last week, and are getting used to swimming in shoes and running in a wetsuit.
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- Get ready
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- Get in and out
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- Run, seamlessly (?!)
I like to build my race season to support my big target event. The trail race at the start of this month was a great test of my running legs. Next up is a 5km swimming race. I’m not worried about going the distance, even though this will be the furthest I’ve swum for many years. Rather, I’m keen to feel strong and fast! Although it will be warmer ‘down south’ in Salford Quays, a bit of speed won’t go astray in helping me stay toasty 😀 .
Getting ready for our first Scottish dip
It’s also been a bit of a whirlwind organising a ‘practice’ swimrun event under race conditions. With a last minute change of plans, we’re heading out to do Borås swimrun (near Gothenburg, Sweden) in less than three weeks’ time (gulp). It’s an event that’s about a ‘half distance’ Ötillö, but with more transitions per km and significantly more ascent on the run. This is focussing our minds nicely! Meanwhile I just need to learn how to pronounce Swedish words. “Er-Till-Er” ? “Bor-oarse” ?
Keep an eye out for more progress reports. You’ll be able to read about how we’re getting on here, at 220triathlon.com and sleepmonsters.com. And if you’re doing a similar event and want top tips, look out for our advice articles for Loch Gu Loch entrants. This will be a great swimrun event based around Loch Ness on 26th Sep. We plan to be there too, assuming we’ve survived the Swedish version! We’re learning as we go along and are more than happy to share what we find out.
Many thanks to our sponsors and supporters: Head Swimming, Beet IT and Chia Charge.
Hardmoors White Horse Trail Half Marathon
As part of my preparations for Ötillö and as a test of my new-found running skills, I entered the Hardmoors half trail marathon at Sutton Bank, ‘The White Horse‘. I’d watched the video and thought it looked like the kind of event for me i.e. not too sanitized!
In the preceding month I’d had a cold and was also rather too busy travelling here and there, including two trips abroad – most unusual for me. However, I’d had a good couple of weeks and was looking forward to seeing how I would do in a race that only involved running and no maps. Not counting Parkrun, I did just one race like this last year and only two the year before!
I like to know what I’m letting myself in for when I race. My research on the route had told me three things. 1) It was 26-27km long. 2) Lots of the route was on the Cleveland way or on what looked like wide forest tracks. 3) It was flat, then downhill, then went uphill for the final 7km sting in the tail. I had also looked at the entry list and compared it to the results from previous races. I knew there was at least one very fast girl, but thought it was realistic to at least aim for the podium and a 6 min/km pace.
Are you ready, number 135?!
Two weeks ago I had images of skipping round the course under sunny blue skies wearing shorts and a t-shirt. The mandatory waterproof would be overkill. In the week before however, the forecast didn’t look so great, and didn’t improve! Andy was also doing the race with me, and we woke to the sound of rain hammering on the bedroom window. As my mum drove us over to the start we could hardly see where we were going and we went through some major puddles.
I dithered over what to wear, but the trip to the registration tent and back convinced me to put on a ‘winter outfit’. I was already shivering! This meant a long sleeve technical tee and my Haglöfs shield jacket. It’s only windproof but even in rain does a good job of keeping the cold out. I still carried my waterproof as back up and was glad I am used to training with a small backpack. I opted for trail shoes with moderate grip.
Apparently we ran up this – though I don’t really remember it! (Photo: Andy Petford)
The briefing was short and we were off. It was still tipping it down with rain and blowing a gale. I wanted to run at my own pace, but quickly appeared to be rather near the front of the field. The fast guys soon disappeared and after a couple of km another girl came past. I was sure it would be Helen, the girl I’d spotted on the entry list. So I wasn’t too fussed and let her go. This wasn’t a race to go chasing early on. With a distinctive red jacket, she was in and out of sight for a while, until some point when she decided to turn on the gas and disappeared from view!
Meanwhile, I kept moving and checking my watch when it bleeped to tell me another km was done. Compared to a training run, the beeps seemed to come so quickly after each other! Sometimes I was running over trickier ground and didn’t risk glancing then. I realised I was moving faster than expected but felt good, so I kept going.
Then we went up this, which I do remember … (Photo: Debbie Mutton)
After 1.5h I still felt like I was cruising. I wondered if this was what BeetIt did for you, as I was trying it out for the first time before this race. Literally about 5 mins after I had that thought, I started to feel a bit weary! Ha ha. I ate a gel rather than a bar because my tummy still felt full from breakfast (which had included a generous portion of homemade ciambellone*.). Not a moment too soon, as I tripped and almost fell flat on my face. Just saved it! But a sure sign of tiredness. Although the allegedly fantastic views had been largely lost under the clouds, the vision of Rievaulx Abbey before us in the valley was amazing.
Along the way I ran with a few people. Many thanks to the guy who I made an effort to catch and hide behind on the open headwind section! It was nice to chat with different people, especially along the road section that seemed endless and hurt my legs with its hard, monotonous surface. As we turned off the road, we went through 21km in 1:49. I was pleased with that, considering that the route had included a couple of technical sections and other long stretches where the path was either somewhat uneven, muddy or narrow and puddly. Basically, nothing like a standard half!
Rievaulx Abbey (Photo: Andy Petford)
I knew there were just 5 or 6 km to go. I mentally told myself now was the time to dig in. ‘Only a Parkrun left’, I thought. On the way down south I’d spotted that M&S Colin the Caterpillars are now veggie. Too good an opportunity to miss, so I bought a bag (or two) thinking they’d be good for the race. I carried four and ate just one, at this critical point. Shortly after, we hit a steep uphill. My companion and I caught two other guys we’d been following for ages. They were walking but I was determined to keep running and was hoping for the caterpillar effect to kick in. I managed to joke: “Is it like this all the way to the finish?” and got an assured “No, this is the worst bit!”. Encouraged, I forged on.
We meandered along and up, mostly up. Through Cold Kirby and into a field. I wished I’d studied the end of the route (even) more carefully so I would know exactly what to anticipate. The map was in my bag, but I had no time for that. I kept following the yellow tape. We entered some woods next to a bike trail. Then the path tilted upwards again as we wound through the trees. There was no way I was easing off now – I had 3 guys to keep behind me! Despite feeling a bit sick, I was sure the end must be near.
My watched beeped for the final time at 26km and before long I was back on the road we had started on. I could see my mum in the mist up ahead and was relieved – I’d come in almost 15 minutes earlier than I had told her to expect me! I felt like a champion as I charged up the road, with the handful of spectators braving the now improved weather (just drizzly and misty) and cheering and clapping. At the timing tent I was asked “10k?” “No, half!” I proudly responded.
I had finished second female, just 5 minutes behind Helen and averaging 5:16/km, which was way above my expectations. Total time was 2:18, and the extra effort I’d saved for the end meant my pace held pretty steady, despite the change in gradient. I wasn’t sure at what price though – because as soon as I stopped I felt sore and various bits of me were complaining loudly! Luckily, by the next day everything seemed to have settled down and I only had usual post-hard-run muscle soreness.
We waited for Andy to come in, and I was pleased to see he looked happy and had had a good time. We hung about for prize giving then headed off to another Abbey (at Ampleforth) to refuel. All round, a great day out; well organised, fun route, friendly and good value.
* Ciambellone is an Italian cake that is apparently perfect for breakfast, snacks or dinner. I easily achieved all three this weekend.
Haglöfs Open 5 – Peak District
The final of this winter’s Open 5 series was in the Peak District. Practically ‘home ground’, as Lucy grew up near here and Andy lives ‘just over the hill’. Unfortunately Andy was away working on Saturday, so I came down and stayed with Lucy and her dad instead.
I was annoyed to have forgotten to take my Feed Zone Portable snacks out of the freezer, but Lucy had some recipes and ingredients for other treats. I was also suffering from muscle complaints. A sore shin had appeared on Monday (I thought ‘what would Graham (the physio) do?’, the answer: rest, ice, gentle massage), plus an achey hip and a funny back muscle getting out of the station. I was getting paranoid, but had a happy evening chatting and constructing what were, in effect, homemade Nakd bars. Soon I had forgotten about aches and pains and it was time for bed.
Next morning I woke up and the first thing I noticed was a parched and sore throat – uh oh! We set off almost on time, but still had to park in the slightly more distant parking area. The map was interesting and we had quite a bit of discussion about it. We also debated what to wear (cold in the wind, warm in the sun, rain forecast later) and engaged in our usual faff.
We did manage to set off a little earlier than normal, but not much! We also decided to stick to ‘tradition’ and ran first. Lucy has obviously much recovered since the previous two races as we were speeding. I was back to my usual position i.e. following. But I was keeping up and enjoying the trails. We had what felt like hundreds of little gates with latches to fiddle with and stiles to clamber over. I paused to avoid Lucy’s trailing leg each time and then scampered after her.
We only had two minor hiccups. First, Lucy’s plaits fell out! This is the only time we’ve had ‘hair issues’ in a race, though I was also keeping my buff on to keep mine in place as I really need a cut! Next we made one small nav error, quickly corrected but to the puzzlement of a couple with a dog. We ended up running past them three times 😀 .
We chose to go for an ‘optional’ 10 pointer, adding about 1km to our run. Just after that we caught up with two guys on a stretch of road. One of them clearly decided to race us and picked up the pace. Lucy responded and I came up next to her. His pal was getting left behind. We did not slow. I thought: ‘you’re just leaving your partner behind, and did you know we can comfortably keep this up for another hour?’. As we crossed a stile into a field, they both disappeared behind us and we had a little chuckle about it. Sorry guys!
The hill was tough, but the ridge was fun with the wind behind us. I tripped for the second time in the race and sprawled onto the ground, my map blowing across the hill in the gale. Luckily Lucy caught it and we were off again. Down the final hill my knee was a bit sore and I became more cautious. Lucy had to wait. But when we got to the road we were pushing along to the final control.
We came in after 2h9mins. A little longer than planned, but not unreasonable and my shin had been fine :-). I’d had a few looks at the bike map on the way as I was concerned about getting caught at the end. We wanted to go round clockwise to enjoy the best descents and the easier (better surfaced) climbs. But this meant leaving a committing big hill at the end. After a quick discussion, we made a decision before we set off to drop a control early on.
Did someone say ‘team’ ?
On the first very steep hill, Lucy stormed up whilst I got off and pushed a bit. “Good effort!” I shouted, but Lucy responded “I’ve got other issues now!”. Put delicately, we had some severe ‘lady pains’ to deal with. Cruising and downhills were fine, but efforts were impossible. Sadly our first aid kit had no pain killers, so we are very grateful to the fellow competitor who gave us some paracetamol whilst Lucy rolled on the ground in front of a bemused photographer. A technical downhill that had me walking more than once cheered Lucy up a bit, but some more on-the-floor manoeuvres were carried out whilst we waited for a mountain biker to rummage in his bag for Ibuprofen. He couldn’t find them! So we carried on and implemented use of the tow on the uphill tracks and on the roads.
We were making fair progress now and feeling more chipper, but decided to miss an awkward control for 10 points involving extra climb and instead bombed along a road. About 10km to go, an hour left and our average speed so far was over 13km/h. Looking good!
Making Very Important Decisions
Unfortunately, halfway up the next hill it started raining. We came out of a small valley onto an open, flat and exposed moorland just as the heavens really opened and the wind got up. We were battling straight into the gale and were staring at the tarmac under our wheels as hailstones clattered off our helmets. I knew we had to turn right when the bike computer said something-point-two km, just after some trees on the left. But we couldn’t check to see the turn off by just looking up, and we seemed to be barely inching forwards. I managed to stay upright (I’d already been blown off once, earlier on) but we were both having trouble riding in a straight line.
Eventually we got to the control in the corner of a wall. We decided to duck down and throw our coats on even though we were already soaked to the skin and ‘nearly there’. It helped, but I went from ‘OK’ to shaking with cold. Suddenly we felt we had to get back very urgently. We knew we’d now have to miss an accessible control on Mam Tor and just return as soon as we could. There wasn’t even any debate. Hands were frozen and on the next uphill headwind section Lucy couldn’t even hold the tow. I tried to push her instead but it felt like a loosing battle against the elements. Scientific studies show that swearing can make you feel better, so we turned the air uncharacteristically blue until we turned with the wind and headed downhill for the final run back to the big yellow finishing arch.
Shame we didn’t have a view like this on our way back!
We actually came in 3:40 minutes late, despite missing a control at the end. Thank goodness we’d also chosen to be slightly conservative earlier on!. But oh how we’d wished we’d set off earlier in the morning 🙂 . The finish area was almost deserted and the marshals told us people had been bailing out early. We’d had no choice! We rushed to the car but had to ask someone else to undo our buckles to get at the keys. I haven’t been so cold all winter. After a rapid change and some hot veggie chilli I was feeling better, but excessively tired!
We won our category, came 11th overall again and won the series. Full results here. I also think we had one of our best ever runs in an Open 5 together. When I got back home I was feeling a bit ropey and by Monday morning had a full blown cold. That would explain the sore throat and some lacklustre training the week before – but I’m just grateful it didn’t arrive a day earlier!
Thanks to Haglöfs for sponsoring the series, their kit is really great for outdoor adventures. Also to Open Adventure for the events, James Kirby for photographs and all the marshals and course setters. Looking forward to the next lot already!
Just about warming up, wearing almost all the dry clothes I had with me.
Haglöfs Open 5 – Yorkshire Dales
I am still slightly bemused about how well this race in the Yorkshire Dales turned out for us. In the days and hours before the start, I was getting messages from teammate Lucy such as: ‘I think I might be able to do 5 hours’, ‘this is damage control’, ‘I’m totally broken’ and ‘I wouldn’t have made it here if it was just me’. Yikes. I wasn’t feeling 100% tip-top myself, having had a funny tummy for a few days, feeling lethargic and carrying around a hip that was still grumbling from last week’s round of fun. However, I did feel fit and was able to muster up enough enthusiasm for two of us!
The weather forecast was due to be wet and cold, getting worse as the day went on. Normally, we’d run first, but this would mean getting hot and sweaty and wet in the rain (I can’t run these speeds / distances in a waterproof!), only to get on a bike and freeze. It’s much harder to generate enough heat to stay warm when you’re cycling. For this reason, we switched round and biked first. As it was, we got dry weather until just before the run started but then it got pretty bad – perfect!
Cycling up the hill we’d run up later
At the start lots of people couldn’t decide what to wear, Lucy included. In the end we both played it safe – I wore a coat for the bike and she had on full waterproofs, top and bottom! It was a good move though. I was under no illusions about what was required today: conservative, steady and, apparently, fun! We both stayed warm all race, which psychologically and physically was what we needed.
We had drawn up a proposed route for the bike, and after we got the control values decided to tweak it only slightly and to go round in the opposite direction, collecting more higher value controls on the bigger hill first. There was more road riding than we sometimes face, but when we did go off road there were some high quality bridleways. Limestone all the way! We were particularly pleased with ourselves as we blasted down a long bumpy hill, passing people walking up and knowing we had gained most of our height on a road.
Biking fun
Lucy was right that she didn’t have her usual zip up the hills, but we were moving much better than last time. We didn’t even resort to using the tow. I thought it was better to conserve some energy for the run so long as we were moving smoothly. I nipped ahead at gates to hold them open and let Lucy get a head start if I needed any map checks! We were also fortunate this month that our route looped back close to the transition area and had loads of shortcuts if we needed them. We didn’t, but the knowledge was reassuring.
The instructions I was given at the start could not have been clearer: “Rosemary, you’re taking us on a 3h loop, and nothing more. NO ‘let’s just go …’ allowed!”. Consequently, as we neared the end of our loop and had the option of a 3km (total) out and back for 15 points, we let it go and carried on round.
Just under 4km from transition, Lucy cried out that her rear tyre felt bouncy. Whaaat?! A puncture! Darn. We whipped out the pump and blasted some air in, hoping it would only go down again slowly. Lucy set off, I got my kit back in the bag and chased after her. Halfway back, I could see it getting squidgy again and the extra drag was having a detrimental effect on the little rises we still faced. We really didn’t want to stop again, so I gave a push up the last hill and we gingerly slid into transition. Phew!
Oh, please can’t we go this way?
Somehow, even despite this minor mishap, I achieved the impossible and got us back a ‘little bit earlier than expected’, a turn of phrase which does not normally enter my vocabulary. 2h50, plus 5 minutes to transition. Time to hit the run.
We adjusted our plans due to the control values, then set off cheerfully. As we dibbed out, we told the chap who had gone out of the wrong funnel to watch us professionals to see how it’s done. Then we promptly went the wrong way, much to the amusement of the marshals. We like to entertain!
We left one optional out and back only worth 10 points, but went for the other. Lucy vetoed crossing the cool looking stepping stones; probably wise! Heading up the first hill, we were walking, which is most unusual. I felt a bit anxious that we’d need to move faster than this, but Lucy’s heart rate wouldn’t rise and there wasn’t much we could do about it except chat and keep cheerful.
There were a few interesting controls on the run. The first was at the base of an amazing waterfall, that you couldn’t see until you were right there. I admired the view whilst stopped for the longest wee EVER, while Lucy started back up the hill. Soon we were at the top, running along a short stretch of road as it started snowing! This was fun. Slight mistake going into the next control, but nothing serious and we were heading into a cave. I half expected to see James the photographer here, but he had already been and gone.
Lucy can always fly down the hills, and the reward for all that up was that we were now going down. We cruised alongside a railway to another unusual control location – inside an enormous kiln. I wish we’d had time to explore and read the info board! As we padded along next to the river I sensed that Lucy was tiring a bit. The solution was jelly babies and getting the tow out for the last hill. The second unheard of event of the day, as we hooked up the ‘wrong way round’. This is a strange sensation for me. The little tugs I could feel on the tow were hardly noticeable, but my legs were telling me that they were indeed working harder.
Now it was really snowing, we knew we had nearly finished and spirits were high. Earlier on, some people had remarked on our level of chat as we went past on an uphill, and we weren’t stopping now. Lucy was navigating as well as ever and we flew down a hill, past a control and James with his camera. We could see the event flags, but we had a little detour for one more high scoring control in a narrow tunnel under the road. By now we knew we’d be getting back early, but we kept running just in case time mattered. We came into the ‘back’ of transition and found it amusing to make sure we ran round under the big yellow arch to finish.
Third unheard of thing – we were back 7.5 minutes early! We knew we had a good score, but weren’t sure if it was because the course was a bit easier than usual or whether we had done well. We didn’t feel as if we had been ‘smashing’ it. But what really mattered today was that we had definitely met the FUN criteria. Our bikes and other transition kit was rapidly disappearing under the falling snow and it was a second race to get changed into dry warm kit before a chill set in.
Our category was the first to be announced at prize giving, so we were on edge, not having a sense of how our score compared. But we ended up winning by a clear margin of 44 points, and finishing 11th overall. We’re usually over the moon if we make it into the top 10, so we are pretty pleased with this result! And the race back to the finish meant we beat the leading female solo – who had the same points as us but came in 13 seconds later 😀 .
Couldn’t be happier
On reflection, our performance in this race far exceeded our expectations. I wonder whether moving at a consistent fair pace, combined with a commitment to stress free racing, helped us make better tactical choices. We might have been able to squeeze out 10 more points or so, but we made the right decisions for us at the times when we were faced with the options that would have got us those points. In any case, it all worked out. We will go into the last race as series leaders, but Sue and Louise are not far behind, so it will still be all to race for!
Will we ever get out?
As we tried to leave the race HQ the snow was falling hard. The steep little hill was too much for a van and we had to wait a while for them to be pushed out and for a tractor to clear the road. My friend Kim wasn’t sure of her snow driving abilities. We all lined up along the drive as if we were in a time trial. As we approached the line nerves were running a little high. The marshal waved us through as did the spectators along the verges! Luckily we made it to the top unscathed and had a very scenic drive home.
As usual, thanks to the organisers (Open Adventure), course planner (Chris Maudsley), volunteers, photographer (James Kirby) and series sponsor (Haglöfs). Also to my mum for having a perfect dinner on the table when I got in!
The Yorkshire Dales – scenic and snowy
Bowhill Long Duathlon
It feels like it’s been a long time since my last race. I could pretend this was because my physio had drummed into me the message that I should spend time ‘building a base’ whilst letting my hip recover and not always interrupting training with another hard race. But really it was because there had been nothing on for a month! 😉
I had been anticipating this, the last race in the Bowhill duathlon series, for a while. I had won the previous two, but knew I would still be under pressure for this one. To make me even more nervous, The Adventure Show from BBC Scotland would be there filming for their next programme. Gulp.
By the time we got to race morning, I was more than a little nervous. To compound this feeling, Glen was a bit late arriving, then we headed off down the A1 … which does not go to Bowhill! After a rapid correction including a sneaky back road that Andy knew, we got there not quite early enough for the good car park, but only just down the drive 🙂 .
No sooner had I started queuing to register, than the camera crew asked me to go over for an interview when I was ready. They had lots of questions, and I talked a lot! As soon as I walked away I started thinking ‘why didn’t I mention ….?’ Since I definitely remembered telling them that it was important to warm up for such a short race, I headed out on my bike to ride up the hill and down the last technical section, plus a bit of the start climb to keep warm. This also helped me to calm my nerves and ignore irrational thoughts about my back tyre going flat.
I always find the mass bike start tricky but soon got into a rhythm climbing the hill. I didn’t really appreciate someone riding into me sideways, but I stayed upright. Twice I jumped off and ran steep bits before going on. There were lots of muddy sections, as usual. Unfortunately, it wasn’t wet enough to have washed away or got to firmer ground underneath, and it was not cold enough for it to have frozen. So we were often riding through a sticky gloop that grabbed at my tyres and pulled me this way and that.
Little puddle!
I felt more anxious than usual descending. I’m not sure why; perhaps it was a heightened sense of not wanting to crash out or maybe my head was just not quite in the right place. Still, I attacked the hills and passed a few guys. At the end it got technical through the woods. I walked a short section but was then riding again. At a tricky corner, I was just about to put my foot down and scoot, when someone yelled ‘well done, keep going Rosemary!’. It was just what I needed as I thought ‘I can do this’ and rode on down :-).
Into transition I knew I was first girl, but didn’t know what sort of lead I had. The film crew were there interviewing me as I tried out using a little shoe horn for the first time and got it back to front! They asked if I felt confident about the hat trick now, but I said you never know until the finish, and I meant it.
Off I went, determined to run well. Despite what it may seem, I *have* actually listened to the physio. Injuring my hip has been a good thing. It made me go back to basics and build up properly. Although I’m not totally fixed yet, I’m well on the way and I’ve had several weeks of consistently running a lot more often and a lot further than I have for many years. Our Ötillö race entry is also helping motivate me to keep going out in the dark and cold. Slow it may mostly have been, but it has really improved my running.
At the start of the hill
The course goes up and down, then up a lot more before coming back the same way. My feet kept falling into soft muddy sections, which dragged you in just when your muscles were burning from the effect of cycling! Up we went, clambering over fallen trees and picking the best lines. I didn’t walk a step, even when it got tough. I never knew whether there’d be someone behind me spying a weakness!
Lollipop. Proof I went to the lollipop handout point.
I collected my lollipop at the top, waved at the cameras, noted my time and started descending. The next girls I saw going the other way were Caroline and Elizabeth. From pervious form and races, my guess was that Caroline was moving up the field and had just overtaken Elizabeth, which turned out to be the case. Last year, Caroline caught me on the descent and I couldn’t respond. This year I estimated I had about a 4 minute lead. Would it be enough?
Through the trees again and a clubmate came past, nimble like the deer I had seen racing across our path earlier. I decided it was time to take a few risks and let go a bit, so I did my best to keep up with him. He was slowly pulling away, but I was actually having fun and it was enough to keep me motivated. I also got in a mini battle with a guy in red and yellow. He’d catch me on the downs only to drop back on the ups!
Sprint finish, with Andy hiding by a tree!
The final hill is the sting in the tail of this course. I allowed myself one or two glances over my shoulder to see if there were any Caroline-shaped people coming behind, but it all seemed clear. I wasn’t taking chances though and pushed on, even managing a sort of sprint finish. Hurrah!
Deziree from The Adventure Show was there for a post race interview, though there was an awkward moment where it seemed like I was supposed to talk but I hadn’t been asked a question! I just started anyway, but who knows whether I made any sense. Pretty soon Caroline came in, followed by Elizabeth. It’s always nice to have a podium of friends 🙂
Deziree
I hadn’t really noticed the rain and snow when I was racing, but got cold much more quickly than normal. I dived back to the car to strip off wet things and get warm and dry, though my lips stayed purple for ages!
Caroline, myself, Elizabeth
The post race analysis of results made happy reading. My bike time was almost the same as last year, but my run was more than 8 minutes faster. This is over a 9.6km course. Somehow I placed better (out of everyone) on the run than on the bike (by two places). This is unheard of for me! I’d like to have biked faster, but maybe I had left more in the tank to do well on the run. It can be a balancing act between the two disciplines. It’s a fabulous feeling to think maybe I could discover that inner runner again, instead of seeing it as an inherent weakness.
I’d like to thank everyone at Durty Events for putting on the series again and keeping us all happy with never-ending mud supplies. Also to Glen for taxi services and various photographers. At this race in particular, I noticed loads of people cheering me on by name, even people I didn’t recognise. Thanks to you all, as it does make a difference! A great race, lots of fun, I lived up to the pressure of expectation (my own, mostly) and I left much more chatty than when I’d arrived 😀 .
Full results for the race here and the series here.
Photos this time from Andy Kirkland, David Hogg and RM Photography.
Planet Byde 