In reply to ClimberEd:
No mucking about, thanks to the top tip of socks open in the shoes. It works, or at least it does for me.Onto the bike, off we go. Settle, HR 160?! Huh, that can’t be right, - threshold is mid 150s, max 177, 160 is flat out interval pace. Body check, energy levels, good, breathing, very calm, legs okay, excuse the language, f*ck the HR, let’s go, I’ve got a 5.20 split to ride. Then I realise my computer isn’t working, it’s not picking up distance. Damn it. Every time, it goes wrong in every event and never in training. Work with what you’ve got. I know the loop, I know my time and HR, somehow I know my speed. We head out of Vichy, through a village and up a hill. I know it’s not long so I keep the pressure on. Into the woods. HR settling but not enough. Not matching perceived effort. I can’t dwell on it. Other cyclists are quite spread out, some around me but nothing approaching any draft packs forming. I concentrate on my own race. After 25km or so we swing out of the woods and down on to the plain. And smack bang into a head wind. Ouch. HR is still mid to high 140s. too high, avg speed 21, bang on target. No choice, 10 hours, game on. Having to squeeze on with the legs to keep the pace up though, this is not easy. Then I need a piss, can’t be ignored need a piss. Chrissie Wellington pees on the bike. I’ve never practiced peeing on the bike, Bollocks, I’ll have to stop. 58seconds, back on the bike, probably 10 people passed me, let’s try and chase them. Then vooomph. All I see is a pair of tanned euro legs, a number 1000 something, I’ve just been passed by the leader of the half distance race. Humbling. Then a flashbulb, a bloody flashbulb, yup, only in France, the ‘race photos’ guy has actually set up shop with full umbrella thingy, flash bulb and remote trigger. Awesome, next time I’ll remember my make up and fake tan. Errrr no.
The rest of the bike continued, I passed (and was passed) by some GB guys and girls who I tried to give some encouragement too. I was on track but I knew I was working too hard.HR only dropped into the right zome (<140) if I was downhill or actively easing off, I hoped it was adrenalin but with the soreness in my legs I feared the worst. Coming back into that headwind with about 30miles to go I had a choice, ease up a bit, save my legs for the run, or go for it. I played around, I could spin the legs, drop the HR but my pace plummeted. Too much. I’d be too slow, If I did that I’d never run fast enough on my best day for a 10 hour (little did I know I was further than I thought but you play with the information you have.) At this point all I could see what fields and never ending road. Look back, no one behind me, look in front, maybe that’s someone up from, too far to tell. 2nd piss stop, 28 seconds.
What to do. It was lonely out there, no one around. I thought about it, I could cruise, get 10hours 30 something, maybe do a good marathon time, my legs hurt. Everyone would still be proud of me, I’d worked hard for this, people do 11hours and are happy, hell 12 hours even. But I wouldn’t. I knew I would bury myself, I just didn’t think it would come this early. No one around. Dammit let’s go. So I pushed, harder even, at least in effort, HR still mid 140s, 150s up the hills, too high, but I made the decision. Heading into the last village there’s a hill, not a big one but urgghh tired legs. Supporters are out now, urging everyone on. I see a St Georges Cross and hear go on GB , right instead of left at the roundabout, computer failure means I have no idea how much is actually left. At this point you are cycling back past the hippodrome and into familiar territory, legs hurt, but they have hurt in training, the question is how much damage have I done, I’ll find out.
Shoes off, into transition, 5.15, fast, for me crazy fast, given the headwind ridiculous. Everyone is yelling, but it’s brilliantly organised. Shoes on, hat on, tried to grab a gel and onto the run. The run goes round the lake (over two bridges) with a few twists and turns added on to make 4 laps of 10km and a bit. Surface varies from pavement to trail running and a tiny but very steep humped bridge and set of steep steps thrown in for good measure. I was looking for Laura, the least I could do was give her a smile. Others were shouting Allez Ned, or Allez GB, great support. Must keep going. Watch is doing its usual thing of taking a coffee break instead of finding the satellites so don’t really know my pace. Start doing the maths, I need sub 8min/miles to hit 10.00, or thereabouts. Should be easy, but it’s not. My body hurts, , my arms hurt, my legs hurt and nothing wants to move, and this is the start of the marathon. Break it down, 4 laps of 10km, 4 * 10km. 10 km is easy right. I just try to run but at this point going faster is not happening. HR too high, way too high, high 140s no way sustainable even if this was just a running effort. Finally my watch kicks in, I’m running 7.50s to 8mins, just. Then an aid station, 10 seconds lost. Love the ‘salty sponges though’ and the volunteers are amazing, some actually look insulted that you have ‘rejected’ their energy bars. More allez Ned, at least I can crack a smile. More time lost, At this point I give up doing the maths, I just run as fast as I can. I give up looking at my watch. The splits don’t make any sense because of walking to get water. I stick with a process, always the process, water, gel, cola, sponge. Even a hosing if I am very lucky. Take gel every 2 aid stations (every 4km) try to keep moving. Each lap passes through the finish stadium which is incredible. Roars of support which you know are for you. (Although when I saw the ‘high energy’ commentators spooning each other I did wonder if I was hallucinating…) First lap down, 50.50, on target, run. Next lap passed, then the next, I just concentrated on running as fast as I can. I was slowing though. Badly. If I slowed to take on water at an aid station it was harder and harder to get going, but if I didn’t slow I couldn’t drink. Not drinking means not finishing. 1.46. 2.42. Somewhere at the end of the 2nd lap Laura shouts 8.15. Keep going. Half way round the 3rd lap Laura pops out from behind a tree and starts running next to me, awesome. I try to find someone’s feet to follow but with the aid stations this is difficult. Some GB supporters have set up camp by the lake and each lap I look for them, give them a smile (perhaps rather weaker each time), thanks guys. Last lap, no more smiles, Dammit this hurts. I start thinking about all the training, all the help and support I have had from everyone, how much this means to me. Does this happen to everyone. Must focus. I look for the bridge, Ignore the aid stations, last 5km, stopping will mean not starting again. Not going to happen, no stopping. If I can reach the middle of the bridge it’s downhill and then the finishing stretch. Focus on the middle of the bridge. Middle of the bridge. Pick up the pace, come on. You can collapse in 1km, just 1km. Flat out. Well at this point flat out was 7.50min/miles – almost slower than my warm up pace for a normal run. I passed Laura, I think there was a high 5, game face still on. Into the stadium, I’m the only one in there, a wall of noise, oh my god, 50m, I’m going to do it. I smile, of relief and happiness. 10.09. 86th, 14th in AG. I buried myself and it was all worth it.
With big thanks to Mark Yeoman (www.mysmartcoach.co.uk ) for training programmes, swim coaching, help and support. Mark – that formed the cornerstone of my success. Richard Melik at Freespeed for bike fit, www.freespeed.co.uk .Holly, Rob, Alex, Laura and Laurence – the Henley crew, inspiration and putting me back together www.athleteservice.com