Decisions and a quick change

So, over the past couple of days, the news filtered through that I had made the GB team for the World Sprint Champs thanks to qualifying third in my age group at last weekend’s Big Cow triathlon. The only problem being that, as I thought I probably hadn’t made the team, I’d started to make alternative plans. Now, I’m not sure whether to go or not.

The issue boils down to time and money. And, with the World Champs taking place down in New Zealand, any trip is going to demand quite a bit of both. I could probably scrape together the funds and a few days but then what’s the point in travelling all that way to a stunning country like New Zealand only to do a one-hour race and then race back?

Also, due to some personal stuff, I feel like my priorities have changed a little over the past few weeks too; I love triathlon and I can’t think of anything better than pulling on the blue Union Jack-emblazoned kit of my country, but it is, at the end of the day, just triathlon. Life, family and friends come first, right?

There’s still a bit more time left to make my decision but I’m thinking it’s unlikely I’ll go now. I’ve already decided that, after Ironman, I’d like to spend a couple of years focusing on the shorter sprint and Olympic races for a variety of reasons: I think my body reacts better to intensity, it’s where my strengths lie, not having to do 7hr IM training bike rides will buy me back a bit of ‘life’ plus I think this will buy me the time to really focus on my run, which is definitely my weakest discipline right now. I feel that many people – me included – reach for their Ironman goals to soon. I’d like to go back to basics, build some strength and speed and then maybe look at stepping up to 70.3s and IM again in a few years when I’ll see some genuine improvements.

I’d already made this decision before the UK qualifier. But if I don’t go to New Zealand, it also gives me a big goal for next year when the World Champs will be held in England. Competition for places will therefore be fierce. I figure that qualifying races, like the National Champs which I raced last week, will be just as hard-fought – no faster no slower – but all of the top four are likely to take their places, with slots on Team GB not rolling down very far at all. Therefore, the way I see it, I have 12 months to improve by 4 minutes over sprint distance or 7 minutes over an Olympic distance. And while there may be a minute or two between my swim and bike, most of this will have to come from my run. So, goals set out nice and early…

In the meantime, there’s just the small matter of an Ironman in four weeks’ time! It’s funny how the minds of us endurance athletes work. After my first weekend at home – and two really good, long, hilly bike rides – I’d have said I was in cracking form and ready to roll. However, thanks to seeing friends in London, competing in the national sprint champs, travel and tiredness, I’ve barely trained for the past week and all of a sudden I feel like I’m so unprepared it’s untrue and there’s no way I’ll even finish, let alone achieve my goals.

Slightly panicked, I hoped to get back into the game last night with the 100k bike set that is on my programme – only to snap a gear cable almost immediately. Never rains but pours, hey? This small thing was almost enough to send me into a crazy tears and tantrum toys out the pram panic but I took a deep breath and decided I’d focus on what I could do.

The bike went straight to the shop to be repaired. I took stock and realised that I’m just as fit as I was last week and also feel incredibly uninjured and well-rested – something to be grateful for a month from IM. Then I headed out on a 30k run to make up for missing the long bike. This weekend, I’ll hit the long ride on my road bike which means I won’t be able to keep up with the scheduled programme, but so what – if I can ride 200kms on my roadie, without aerobars, and still hold 30kph or faster, then the IM bike should be a doddle.

I’m looking forward to a good, fairly hard and, most importantly, a consistent three weeks of training now. Then it’s taper time. Then I head off to the beautiful land of Austria. And I’ll be prepared. I’ll give it my best. And what will be will be. After all, it’s only triathlon. It’s not family, or friends, or life…

Race review: UK National Sprint Championships

Last Sunday, I took part in the UK National Sprint Championships which also served as a qualifier for the World Champs taking place in Auckland. The run-up was a bit of a strange one. On one hand, the shorter distances are arguably where I’m strongest and my training has generally been good and consistent over the past few months. On the other hand, most of my training has been aimed at July’s Ironman and, although I got in some great hilly bikes and trail runs while staying with my family the weekend before this race, the rest of the week was spent at weddings and catching up with friends. I managed a few runs but it’s fair to say that there were also many beers drunk – probably more than I’d drunk in the past six months in total!

Shockingly, the sun was shining in the UK and, as anyone who’s ever lived there or visited knows, this is when London is at its best. Runs around Hyde Park and along the Thames Path were glorious sun-drenched affairs, while the days became long, lazy picnics and afternoons in beer gardens. I had a fantastic time catching up with friends and family alike, which meant that I had a little bit of a motivation issue when it came to the race. But I think I did manage to get my head in the game.

The location for the race – Emberton Country Park around 22kms from Milton Keynes – was pretty idyllic, even if it was a bit of an arse to get to, and the organisation on race day was top notch. It was great to line up again in a full and buzzing field of hundreds of triathletes. Abilities varied a little but, by and large, there were less first-timers in the field and many, many more experienced athletes.

I was in one of the last waves, starting at 8am, and by that time I’d already seen my T2A team mates Flanners and Le Pelley take to the waters to battle with their age groups. The water was cold, tho not as cold as I’d feared, although there was quite a lot of floating tree debris about. Sections of the lake were also shallow enough to rag your hand through some underwater foliage.

I lined up well for the swim, got a decent start (although this was a tougher and more physical start than anything I’d been involved in before) and got away with four or five other swimmers. One guy took off – I didn’t follow his feet but, in retrospect, should have busted a gut to stay on his toes. The next guy went through and I stayed on his feet, just, for half the lap. I don’t know if it was the fact that I had other guys with and ahead of me (something I’m not used to – sounds immodest but genuinely have little experience in this scenario) or maybe it was the fact I’d swum just once in two weeks and was swimming in a wetsuit for the first time in ages, but I just didn’t feel like I got into any sort of rhythm in the swim. It felt bad and, for the first time, I was glad to get the swim over. 9.50. Third in my AG.

T1 wasn’t super clean but it was OK-ish, and I came out with three or four other guys from my AG. Although you wouldn’t call the 20k loop mountainous, it certainly wasn’t Ghantoot flat either, with four or five decent bumps, one long section that ground into a slight incline, and one proper, no-doubt-about-it hill in there. 

I’d been working hard on hills while staying at my parents’ house in preparation for Austria as climbing is something I’m not good at, but I was surprised to find that they didn’t stop me dead as anticipated. In fact, I’d say that, on the hills, for every person in my wave who overtook me, I overtook another one or two, while holding steady on the straights and downhills – except for a couple of uber-bikers who shot through. I had a few issues with the drafting rules – a couple of times, someone passed me at speed and then seemed to slow down when in front, forcing me to drop back and ride slowly for a few minutes until I was sure I could pass them – and am pretty sure that I could have knocked a little time off if it’d been a straight individual TT for that reason, but I came into T2 having ridden under 32 minutes which, given the terrain and the fact that the time included some fiddly footpath sections coming into and out of the park, I was pretty darn happy with. Actually really enjoyed the interesting ride terrain too.

I reckon I was lying in around 7^th or 8^th at this point. The run was two laps of the park – 5.5km in total. I didn’t have my Garmin for the first time so ran to feel (all-in!) and felt OK but not spectacular. But it became hard to keep the head in the game as athletes with the letter F on their calves (my wave) came past at speeds I just couldn’t hold on to. I kept going at what I thought was a decent speed and also overtook a couple of guys in my wave – a new experience for me! I got quite a bad stitch halfway through the second lap and thought I may have to stop but just slowed for a minute or so then carried on.

Crossing the finish line, I pretty much knew where I’d come in terms of position (15^th to 16^th in my age group) and was a little disappointed while also knowing that I’d raced hard. In retrospect, I think I had a little more to give on the bike in a couple of sections but that may have made 10-20 seconds of difference all told. 

When I saw my time, however, I cheered up a bit. My run was 21:28 for 5.5km – the first time I’d gone under 4 min/km and pretty comfortably so. My overall time then, I concluded, was probably about as fast as I could have hoped for and, allowing for the longer run and the terrain, was definitely in the PB ballpark. 

So, bit bitter-sweet if I’m honest, but always keen to draw the positives from these experiences.

Things I learned:

•  I’ve said since I started doing triathlon that improvement was how I would define victory. Therefore, especially given that my training is mainly focused on Iron distance racing right now, the fact I’m still getting faster has to be counted as success.
• The level in the UK is extremely high. I’d say that one or two of the athletes would run away with the V in our local Dubai races but what is more impressive is the strength in depth just behind them. The top 10 is hard-fought.
• That said, I’m definitely at the right end and have nothing to be ashamed of. When the time comes to move back to the UK or Europe, I’ll be able to hold my head high and have a decent go.
• My running is improving.
• My running is improving frustratingly slowly. 
•  I need to work on leg strength – I was happy with my bike ride but found that, although I was pushing as hard as I could at any given time, I could also have actually ridden at that pace for another 20km loop. I need to turn that into an extra gear in these races.

Home is where the hills are

Last weekend, I escaped the steadily rising heat of Dubai and made for the UK for a 10 day holiday that, until now, has been really most pleasant indeed, old chap. The plan was to spend a few days at home in North Wales catching up with family before heading down to London for five days of eating, drinking, sightseeing and catching up with friends. Bookending the trip were my cousin's wedding and the UK sprint tri national championships.

I arrived in Blighty on Wednesday avo, dear boy, and on Thursday I headed out for a 14k run with a chum who is also a keen runner. The plan was to follow my scheduled run – a 75 minute effort with effort increasing by 5% of max heart rate every 15 minutes. What I discovered was amazing – at some point between leaving Dubai and heading out on this run, someone must have issued me with an extra lung. In Dubai, 70% max HR generally means around 6 min/km pace; in the UK, that pace required an effort closer to 60% max. Equally, at the top end, the final hard 15 minute interval (85% max HR) meant 4 min/km, rather than around 5 min/km the same effort produces in Dubai. I SAY!

On Friday, inspired by my T2A team mates who had produced a rather spiffing 220km ride back in Dubai that morning, I decided to follow (almost) suit. I chose a long, winding and hilly ride that would give me plenty of tests in terms of terrain and, thanks to the direction I chose, would mean a bit of a head wind all the way. As agreed with coach, this was about miles in the legs and getting used to the hills, but not going all-in, so steady with some decent rests was the name of the game. 

I was excited to head out but, at the end of the drive, quickly turned around to add an extra three layers of clothing, gloves and a woolly hat under my helmet. I was tempted to pour a piping hot cuppa tea into my drinks bottle but resisted. But it was grim out – drizzling and icy cold – May in the UK!

In spite of the weather, the ride was generally good. I headed out west along the North Wales coast, through Flint, Prestatyn, Rhyl, Colwyn Bay and as far as Corwen – flat and fairly fast, although into a wind rolling off the Irish Sea. 

Could be worse: could be swimming in it!

60Km in, I stopped for a coffee and sandwich then headed inland past Betws y Coed and through the foothills of the Snowdonia range before following the A5 through Conwy and Llangollen. 

Boredom had, perhaps, kicked in by the time I decided to start photographing my food!

There, I knew it was a hard slog home, with two big climbs (one of which was the dreaded Horseshoe Pass) between me and nice warm shower. The final climb up from Ruthin almost killed me, but I felt great to have done it and ended up with a ride that measured 185km in distance, with almost 2,000m of climbing – half of which came in the last 40kms. I took my time (6.5hrs total ride time; 7.15 total time) but it was quite the stiff test, old chap.

In the valleys, boyo.

During the ride though, I made some observations:

• Riding is way more fun when it's not done on a pancake flat loop after loop after loop after...
  
  

Coffee stop!

• Rides with coffee stops are awesome.
• I've done a bit of cycling in many countries around the world and would put the quality of the UK's roads marginally behind those of Laos but a tad better than Tanzania. They are, in short, a disgrace. Some sections were so bad that I could have done with a MTB.
• The UK's bugs have a fairly kamikaze attitude towards flying into cyclists' mouths and up their noses. You can actually see them coming but can't do anything to avoid them.
• During the day, on any main UK A road, 60% of traffic is articulated lorries and tractors.
• British drivers are not particularly tolerant of cyclists: around 2 in every 5 cars gives you a decently wide berth; around 1 in every 10 articulated lorries and tractors even notice you.
• You can chip a tooth on a Gerard's oatie cake unless you get it straight out the oven.

I managed another few hilly runs and trails runs (even got a swim session in) during the rest of the long weekend at home and on Monday headed out again on a long ride. This time, I decided, I'd substitute the big climbs for the sort of rolling terrain I expect to find at Ironman Austria and so headed through the Welsh towns of Conwy and Llangollen and out into Oswestry, Ellesmere, Whitchurch and Chester, before heading home. A 157km ride that took a dab over 5 hours of riding.

Meadows of Cheshire.

Were the roads of Shropshire and Cheshire any better than those of North Wales? Incredibly, if anything, they were worse. But the sun was shining and that changed everything. The terrain – hills, valleys, meadows, canals, lakes, railways... - was utterly breathtaking. The UK, at its best, I was reminded, is as beautiful as anywhere else I've ever been. But with shit roads.

Gorgeous lake in Ellesmere.

My final ride of the week was just a cheeky little two hour outing through country lanes and popping over a local set of foothills a few times for a 50km ride with around 1,200m of elevation. As I reached the peak of one mini summit, just about Hollywell, the view across the Dee Estuary to The Wirral pretty much took my breath away. If only the sun always shone in these parts! 

Climbing is something I really struggle with but these three rides have made me feel much stronger and demonstrated to me that, while I'm a long way short of where I need to be, there is hope... I just need to keep putting the hard work in.

So, for now, the riding is over as I'm heading down to London for a few days where, as well as the rest of the shenanigans mentioned above, I'm looking forward to taking advantage of this weather to get in a couple of long runs through the big parks and along the Thames, before taking my foot off the gas a little on Friday and Saturday before the race on Sunday.

I've no idea how I'll do in that race – the competition looks stiff and I'm not in 'sprint' shape really, being just 5 or 6 weeks short of Ironman Austria, but I'm looking forward to getting out there, giving it some and seeing where that puts me. It'll be nice to see how I compare to other athletes outside my normal Dubai circle.

Where my salary goes...

25 signs that you’re a Dubai triathlete

1. Your training wheels are made of carbon.
   
2. In spite of normally being pretty shocking at mental arithmetic, you’ve a Rainman like ability to instantly know what combinations of loops, laps and doglegs at Ghantoot, Longtoot and Nad Al Sheba will add up to your day’s training target.
   
3. You have a full draw of arm warmers, knee warmers, shoe covers, thermal headbands and gloves for when temperature ‘plummet’ to 14°C.
   
4. You’re used to getting weird looks for cycling in the same direction as traffic.
   
5. You consider a 30°C run to be cool.
   
6. You don’t moan about paying 40% more than anyone else in the world for gear and accessories.
   
7. You’ve never cleaned your chain yourself.
   
8. Heading out in the morning, you’ve bumped into your housemate or neighbour just getting back home.
   
9. You’ve forgotten what it’s like to swim indoors.
   
10. You consider a flyover to be a climb.
    
11. Your A race is in a different continent.
    
12. You enjoy a love-hate relationship with Al Ain and Hatta.
    
13. For years you thought Gu was the only type of gel available, 2XU was the only tri gear manufacturer, and all bikes were made by Scott.
    
14. Starting a ride at 3am seems entirely reasonable, and even sensible.
    
15. You’re Facebook friends with all the local bike shop owners.
    
16. You can’t remember the last time you had to rack your bike in any particular order at a race.
    
17. You’ve never raced in the rain.
    
18. You have three different bikes but have never once even considered riding to work.
    
19. You don’t know what a ‘trail run’ means.
    
20. You don’t know what ‘hill reps’ mean.
    
21. You’ve had a ride slowed due to camels on the road.
    
22. You’ve tried racing gazelles. Gazelles win.
    
23. Your wetsuit gets used for about three weeks a year.
    
24. Your cupboards contain more water bottles, freezer bags and eskies than cups, plates and glasses.
    
25. “HOLE!”