Final thoughts

It’s now more than a week since I crossed the finish line and ‘became an Ironman’ and it’s taken me that long to get all these race reports written due mainly to how emotionally exhausting it is to remember and relive the day.

I wanted to write this blog post as something of a round-up, to tie up some lose ends, answer a few questions and appraise my own performance.

Firstly, I want to say how proud I am of my performance – both in terms of training leading up to the event and the race itself. As a self-coached athlete, I think I did OK with the training programme I set myself, and showed amazing discipline in sticking to it in far from ideal conditions during a sizzling Dubai summer. I think back to where I was athletically (or, more to the point, non-athletically) just four years ago and I can’t believe what I’ve just achieved.

However, I would say that I made just one mistake, and it was a biggie: I should never have chosen to do Ironman Wales. Now, that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t have done an Ironman or that I’m not immensely proud to have raced in the inaugural Ironman Wales event – a race that is destined to become a real classic – but that I chose this race with my heart rather than my head.

Any Ironman training book worth its salt emphasises how important it is to pick the right race. The fact it was in Wales and I’d have friends and family there to support me (which did mean the world to me - thanks mum, dad, Harvey, Chris, Pete, Zo, John, Jamie, Bobby, Cez and Rach...) clouded my judgement. Looking at it logically, I should have done a race between January and May, to fit in with the optimal time for training here in Dubai. Being an excellent pool swimmer with limited opportunity to practise open water swimming, a lake, canal or river swim would have been best – anything but a rough sea swim! With very little elevation here in Dubai, a flatter, rolling bike course was what the doctor ordered – certainly not one of the hilliest ironman courses, with much the same true of the marathon, as all my distance running experience (Dubai Marathon, RAK Half etc) has been on pancake flat courses. If I’m being utterly honest, choosing Wales, for those reasons, was a bit of a gaff, but one I came out of OK.

I think I prepared as well as I was able, there are aspects of training that I'd change in hindsight, but that I really couldn't have done much about given the heat. There are aspects of race day that I can definitely learn from but I don’t think I got it too wrong, and I was really happy with my nutrition and hydration plan. What I was most proud of was my ability to roll with the punches on race day and, as conditions worsened, I reassessed my race strategy and target times – allowing for the slower race while also setting myself goal times that kept me pushing hard throughout.

So, the big question that many people have already asked: would I do it again? The answer is simple: beyond a shadow of a doubt. But probably not Ironman Wales, or certainly not IM Wales for a few years. The first reason for that is that I’d like to experience other races, countries and atmospheres. Secondly, though, as I said, it’s not a course that currently suits me so I’d look for one that was a better fit. Having now done an official ‘Ironman’ branded race, I’m also less bothered if my next iron distance is an official M-dot one or not – some of the other races look lots of fun and are also much more affordable with a different sense of camaraderie.

But I definitely would do Wales again in time. If I’d moved back to Europe and was training in the right ways, I would like to go back and see if I’d improved and test myself over the toughest of courses. Put simply, I didn’t have the legs for the bike course this time round. I’d have to be doing a couple of 3-6 hour rides in hilly terrain each week, or taking part in tough sportives every weekend all season…I think the IM Wales course is just one that demands a lot of hill time in the legs, pure and simple. I’d also want to drop at least 5kgs and would probably use a road bike rather than a TT bike.

So, which one’s next? That decision hasn’t been made and I think I’d like to do a couple of Half Ironman distance races first, but I’ll keep you posted when I do decide.

Finally, there was one huge winner on the day – and that was Wales. Ironman UK has become something of an also-ran in recent years, with little reputation, mystique or allure. It’s a race that mainly Brits do as it’s nearby and therefore more affordable, but overseas athletes don't exactly have it marked down as a must-do. 

The message from UK and foreign athletes alike this week has been that finally the UK has an Ironman to be proud of, and one that people from all over the world will come to tackle. The difficulty of the course will give it huge appeal to those who want to test themselves on the ultimate course, but it’s the people of Tenby, the volunteers and those who lined the streets in all the towns and villages on Pembrokeshire that make me want to come back and race one day. 

Afterwards, some of the locals said that they didn’t quite know what Ironman was before the weekend, but it was the best day of the year and that they were already making plans for next year – if the welcome and support they provided this year was what they could do with only a loose handle on it, future races are going to be really special indeed.

Race report part 3 - the marathon

My second transition may not have been hasty enough to trouble the pros, but compared to my swim-bike transition, it was positively speedy. I took off my helmet, peeled off the extra pair of bike shorts I’d worn for the ride (highly recommended!), emptied my rear pockets and, after quickly slipping on my Asics DS trainers and visor, I was out to take on the Ironman marathon – the destroyer of men and slayer of egos. The reality of this struck me briefly as I left transition – the sheer ridiculousness of it…after 8 hours of non-stop graft and the hardest, hilliest bike ride of my life, I was now heading out to run a marathon!

Frankly, I was so damn happy to be of the bike, I felt pretty good heading out of town and on to the main section of the course. Now, since I started doing endurance races, I’ve noticed something of a correlation between how a course looks and how it races. In the UAE, for example, courses are dull, lifeless, colourless and flat as you like – they’re also damn fast. The Tenby run course was beautiful…d’oh!

After all the hills on the bike, you’d have thought the race organisers may have taken pity on us poor would-be Ironmen and offered up a nice flat run course – but then that’s not the stuff that ‘hardest course in the world’ Ironman legend is made of, is it? 

Instead, we ran around one kilometre out of town to discover a 4km climb of 4% or more, all the way out to New Hedges. There, the course came back downhill for a moment before turning and climbing another sharp incline. The next 4km were, therefore, downhill but, once we reached town, the route zigzagged up and down the sloping cobble streets and looped around the castle – this section featured a climb in excess of 20% which even the pros had to walk up. In total, the run course climbed almost 1km, which is a lot even when compared with most the world’s pure marathons…Ironman marathons are usually pretty flat affairs in comparison. What had I got myself into?

My first lap, I shortened my stride and took on the incline well. Halfway up was an aid station where I slowed to a walk, downed coke and water, and started running again – this was my strict strategy for all the aid stations (whether I felt like I needed to walk or not) and I grabbed a Powerbar gel, a salted cracker or a half banana when my tummy felt able. Heading back downhill on the first lap, I made the mistake of trying to use the easier terrain to make up some time – big error as the most difficult section was the part back in Tenby town centre. This part just sapped all energy just before we turned and made our way out for the next lap – and the 4km long hill!

I followed the same strategy for the second lap but used the downhill as a chance to hold back, rest the legs a little and recharge ready for the tough town section. Unfortunately, heading back into town, the quad cramp came back with a vengeance and made both my left quad and hamstring all but useless. My legs were seizing by the second but I knew I just had to finish this second lap. Passing my friends and family (who were holed up outside a town centre pub – how tempting was it to throw the towel in there!?), I signalled two more laps to go. But I was suffering as much as I had done all day.

I was lapping at around 60 minutes per 10k and I decided that given the course and the conditions (the wind was now howling, the heavens had opened a few times and it was getting very cold towards the top of the course) this was fine even if slower than anticipated, so I steeled myself for the third lap by telling myself it was the only lap that mattered – if I got through the third lap, I’d definitely be able to do the final lap, even if I had to walk it…it was all about that third lap. The people of Tenby were out in their thousands and I managed a few high 5s, thumbs ups and smiles in order to soak up some of their energy.

The hill was incredibly tough but I just concentrated on the next aid station and allowed myself to walk through each a little longer – stretching my dying quad as I did so. The 25k mark is traditionally ‘the wall’ in marathon running and one piece of Ironman advice I’d read said that the 25k point was all that mattered – the rest of the day was just about getting you to the wall in the best shape possible to tackle it. I knew that 25k was at the top end of the course and that, if I managed the long climb up, the hill would bring me back down to town – 28k in and hopefully past the wall. It did the trick, and I passed for my third lap.

I used exactly the same technique for the final lap – longer walks through the aid station, thanking every one of the amazing volunteers out on the course as I went past for the last time. At one point, as I summited the top of the second peak, it hit me – I knew for absolute certain now that I was going to become an Ironman.

I now felt great, considering (feeling good is a relative thing at the end of an Ironman), and the quad pain had even eased a little. Not everybody else could say the same – it was like a battle ground out there, people sat down looking dejected or in tears, others throwing up everything in their stomachs, some were shuffling unconventionally but it was getting them there slowly…others just limped along.

At the second to last aid station I swigged a coke and it came straight back up – my stomach had done a sterling job and just about lasted the day, but now it was starting to revolt – so I ignored the last aid station altogether. Finally, I was in town and rather than making the turn back out on to another lap, I could head down the Esplanade where thousands were watching and cheering. Channelling the spirit of Macca at Kona in 2010, I straightened my visor, zipped up my tri top, took off my arm warmers and put them in my back pocket and made for the finish, lapping up every sweet second of it. In case I was only ever going to do this once in my life, I wanted to look OK in the pictures doing it! I hugged and high 5’d my family and friends and fist bumped everyone all the way down to the finishing chute where I heard the six words that had motivated me in my darkest moments ever since I signed up to do this race: ’Matt Warnock…YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!’

12:50 – it may not be a time that threatens pros or top age groupers, but considering the course I was happy with it. In fact, with a third of racers either dropping out or not making the various cut-off times, I was happy to finish at all. Even the winning pros were more than an hour over their predicted times, with male pros still coming in after the 10 hour mark - something that really doesn't usually happen in Ironman and serves as testament as to the course's brutal difficulty.

The next hour was a blur – getting warm clothes on (the heavens opened for the night as I hit the athlete’s village), trying to eat the fish and chips provided but my stomach not really letting me, massage from the great on-site physios, and then home. I have to confess that a few minutes after crossing the line I went to a portaloo and had a little sort of weep for 10 seconds or so – for no reason in particular, but the emotions of the day had been so huge I guess they just needed to come out somewhere.

But it was done. I was an Ironman. An IRONMAN. On the toughest course, on the toughest day – I felt like I truly deserved that finisher’s medal and t-shirt. But never again. Well, not for a while at least. A year at the absolute least. Oh man, let’s check the calendar online – I‘m well up for another try!

Wales is calling

I love a good old-fashioned home-spun saying (nervous as a two-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, being a favourite), but the one that applies most right now, I think, is this one: the hay is in the barn! That's how I feel – I'm as ready as I can be for this race. The rest of the week is just about recovering well, and making sure I turn up to the start line in the best shape and spirits possible.

Later today, I'll pick my bike up – it's been for a last minute service to make sure the gears and brakes are working well – and then I'm going to start packing, as I'll be making my way down to Tenby tomorrow morning.

There's quite a lot to do once down there. As well as some light running and riding, there's registration, briefing, the expo, official swims of the course; I want to drive at least one loop of the bike course to know what's in store, then there's prepping the bike, transition bags and special needs bags.

As there's a lot to do, I have, of course, made a list and a timetable! Matt the OCD triathlete rears his ugly head once again. I know what I need to do and where I need to be when – which may sound over the top but, for me, just means less to worry about.

Bizarrely, now that I've given into the fact that it's going to be a slow and hilly race in far-from-ideal conditions, I'm really looking forward to it. It's going to be a blood and guts battle, and I've certainly got plenty of guts. I've run through my race plan (what nutrition I'll take on when etc) several times and feel ready for the fight. My legs are still a tad heavy, but with very light training this week I'm sure they'll feel good on the day.

I can't wait to get down there and immerse myself in the atmosphere now.

Five days and counting..!

Nice weather...for triathletes

I must apologise for the lack of posts of late. You'd have thought that being off work, back in the UK, I'd have plenty of time to dedicate to this blog, chiseling and sculpting it into something even more beautiful, witty and emotional. Right? Wrong. So far, it's been a non-stop exhaustathon.

Fortunately, that has involved some training too. With the 'hardest Ironman on the planet' tag starting to stick to IM Wales, I realised it was time for hills. Obviously, this close to the race, there isn't too much I can do to improve on fitness levels etc, but I decided that until two weeks out it was still worth doing some good training in the hills as much for mental preparation as physical.

With that in mind, on Friday I headed out into the hills and valleys of North Wales and the North West on as tricky and hilly a route as I could find. The route took me 135km through Ruthin, Corwen and Llangollen, over the Horseshoe Pass, down to Wrexham, to Chester, along into Flint and then back through Mold. I then ran an easy 6km off the bike.

UK: lovely scenery, god-awful roads.

Observations:

1. That was my longest ever solo ride - being on the bike for 6-7 hours for IM was a concern. But it's fine and time passes fairly quickly.
2. It was a little windy, pretty chilly and started spitting with rain a few times - loved it!
3. Riding here is far more interesting than riding in Dubai.
4. The roads in the UK are slightly worse than in Laos - a third world country.
5. I'm OK at climbing. As long as I take it slow and steady, I can make it up just about any climb.
6. IM course is going to be slow - the bad roads, technical descents and wind mean you just can't make up that much time on the downhills.
7. As long as I don't flog myself on those climbs, running off the bike isn't as bad as I thought it'd be after a hilly ride.
8. This was the hilliest ride I could find with almost 1500m of climbing in total. Ironman will be almost double that.

Top of the Horseshoe Pass. It's demoralising being overtaken by a sheep.

With an equal mix of reassurance and panic in my heart, I headed down to Falmouth, Cornwall, for Jamie and Catherine's wedding - friends from back in Dubai. It was a beautiful day, great do, the bride looked stunning and everyone got drunk and danced like idiots - proper wedding!

Yesterday, I left early (wow, Falmouth is a long way away) and stopped in Bristol on the way home for lunch with my good friend Ceri who I'd not seen since last September. Had a roast dinner, couple of coffees then drove back. And after months of hardcore triathlon training, thousands of kilometres on the road, I think I pulled a muscle in my thigh while driving! Typical - although it was nice to have a full weekend off training and thinking about nothing but whether I'd have a Cornish lager, Cornish ale or Cornish pasty next. And carb loading on amazing scones!

So, another wedding next weekend which means plenty of work to do during the week. Hit the local leisure centre for a swim this morning - the flapping/slapping/dreadful technique/aimless weaving of the swimmers of Mold should make for valuable open water practice in the next couple of weeks.

I did meet another guy at swimming who's doing Ironman Wales too and had taken part in the Long Course Weekend (a sort of training weekend/dry run of IM down in Tenby) a month or two back. I chanced a question, expecting a sort of "sure it's tough but it's been blown out of all proportion" answer. When will I learn...

His opinion? "I didn't make the swim - it took me an hour to do 600m due to the current. And the water is teaming with jelly fish. The bike is just hill after hill, and the marathon is like an uphill hike. I was hoping for 13 hours - but now I'll just be happy to finish."

In future, I'll not ask. 20 days and counting!

Racing and resting

I've got a race tomorrow! And what a fun race it should be - organised by my swim club, it's taking place at Wild Wadi - one of the giant, state-of-the-art waterparks we have in Dubai. 

The race itself is two laps (800m) of the Lazy River going the 'wrong way' around, i.e. against the water flow!

Friday mornings are obviously usually reserved for my long ride and in normal circumstances an 800m swim wouldn't be worth bumping my ride for. However, there are three reasons I'm keen to do this swim.


Firstly, due to the flow of the water, organises say this will be like a 1500m swim; and as the sea is about the same temperature as your average lava flow here at the moment, this is about the closest thing I'll get to practising in open water.


Secondly, it looks fun. Since I've been in Dubai I've taken part in the Swim Around The Burj (the Burj al Arab is Dubai's famous sail-shaped hotel which stands on its own island) and a Vertical Marathon (56 storeys up the stairwell of a tower block). They're the kind of events I won't get to do when I leave Dubai, so lap them up, I say!


Finally, yes it may only be our swim club and a few other keen swimmers taking part, but it's a race and I love racing. Even if bragging rights are all that's at stake, racing gets my competitive juices flowing and helps me to refocus on training. After Ironman, the triathlon season will just be kicking off here in the UAE, and there's already a packed calendar with sprint and Olympic triathlons, running races, marathons, aquathlons (swim/run) etc every weekend...and I'll be doing all of them if I can. What's the point of all this training if you don't race?


Actually, there's another reason for swimming rather than cycling tomorrow - I'm knackered. My run this morning was a bit sluggish and the past few mornings, for the first time, I've had to really drag my ass out of bed when the alarm has gone off at 5am...a sure sign of fatigue. Luckily, next week is my easy recovery week and I intend to follow it to the letter - I think a massage and a couple of ice baths will also be on the cards. So, after the swim, I'll take the rest of the day off and make it up with a hard 150k ride (mainly on my own) on Saturday instead.

Ramadan starts here this weekend. While that provides one set of problems training-wise (can't eat or drink in public between sun up and sun down), it also means a manic period of work should be over and, for the last couple of weeks before I head back to the UK, we'll be working reduced Ramadan hours (8-3 or 9-4) which obviously allows an extra hour or two per day for relaxing and recovery too.


I'm still 6 weeks out from IM - well too soon to start a taper - but equally I'm going to pay extra attention for the next three weeks that my sessions are about quality and I'm getting enough recovery (sleep, fluid, quality food, rest, massage) so I turn up in Tenby knowing I've the miles in the legs but also that I'm rested and raring to go.