You may be under the delusion that it would be great to have a partner that is a fellow triathlete, they would understand that you need to go training and why painting the kids bedroom can wait until the season is over…unfortunately the reality is less attractive: bickering about who’s turn it is to go out training, why have you taken my spare inner tubes … , whose turn it is to race. The only good thing is that when Kay tells me that the latest bike bit she has bought was ‘soooooo cheap’, I know she is lying (unlike the price of women’s clothing and shoes, I do know how much cycling bits cost). The purpose of this ramble is to introduce the careful and sensitive negotiation we enter into when trying to decide what events we will train for. It basically goes like this – Kay decides her events and I fit around these. OK boys it sounds bad but it’s not really. I like to road race in the first part of the season whilst Kay is still building up her training. It is more difficult in the second half of the season when triathlons become more frequent and road races less so. This year the only unmovable race for me was the Newry 3 Day and for Kay it was the UK 70.3. Each were one week apart thank goodness. After this we were to holiday and I had decided that marital bliss would be best served by me doing some triathlons in the latter half of the season. Season’s plan and marital bliss sorted, thus began my entry into multisport.
First Half - The Newry 3 Day
My 3-day started on the Friday evening with a 40 mile criterium through Warrenpoint and the dual carriageway that leads off to Newry. Last year I had been blasted by the group and was dropped after 5 laps and grovelled home 2 laps down. The following day was a road stage, I punctured after 5 miles had a garbage wheel change and never regained the peloton. When I arrived at the finish the officials had left and they would not let me start the afternoon’s time-trial. How could this year’s event be worse? It wasn’t.
Day 1
The criterium was fast and furious with an average overall speed of 25.6 mph and riders being shelled each time we went through the town. Lessons learnt from last year paid dividends and I finished mid-group (40th ) sprinting for the stage.
Day 2
The second day’s 55 mile stage involved three laps of a circuit of Hilltown-Kilcoo-Rathfriland followed by a return trip over the mountains from Hilltown to Rostrevor and back. The peloton stayed together until the trip over the mountains when men were men and I was nervous. I ‘blew’ about half a mile from the summit and chased to regain contact on the way down the other side. I had gone into the colour that must follow the red zone (how about psychedelic zone?) and shortened my life span with the effort but finally regained the group. Although I nagged my body to recover, its failure to achieve this was savagely revealed when the group accelerated at the bottom of the climb on the return journey. I had to say ‘bye boys’ and was left to suffer on my own. Gradually I picked up other riders who had been shelled by the group and by the time we crested the climb I was in a group of half a dozen riders who worked together to the finish. We lost 5 minutes on the lead group but I was somewhat consoled that a third of the field had finished behind me on the stage. That afternoon there was a short 4 Mile time-trial which I finished in 9mins 26 (placing me about halfway down the field).
Day 3
Anyone who has done some road racing will know that the start of the races are the worst part. It is manic as guys try to escape and the peloton reacts but, if you grin and bear it, the pace has to settle down at some stage. At the start of the final stage we had the wind at our backs and were absolutely flying. The race went from Newry via Warrenpoint and Rostrevor towards Kilkeel and we did not drop below 40mph. We took a left hand turn and I felt the bike ‘step out’. A feeling of doom swept over me – not a puncture. I stopped and got off the bike, a quick feel of the wheel but the expected puncture wasn’t there – the wheel was hard?? I Jumped on the bike and into the race convoy trying (and failing) to keep panic at bay. Up the gutter, jumping between the team cars (who thankfully drive nice and close to each other) and then to the commisaires car, next, the last car before the peleton – the race doctor. These health professionals are a bit too careful for my liking. He was sitting 80 yards back from the group (i.e. too far). I sat on his rear bumper waving at him to get closer to the group; could he not see that I was suffering badly? Despite my encouragement it was plain that he was not going to budge closer to the peleton so I sat where I was, trying to recover enough strength to bridge the gap. Deep breath and go for it – straight into the red zone and into the psychedelic in an all out effort. I was on the back of the peleton and gasping for air.
I was repeating the mantra – recover, calm, recover, calm… when the group took another left turn and again my bike stepped out and I nearly came off. I thought ‘I must have a puncture’ and stopped again – the wheel was hard but my confidence was shot. I tried to get back up to the peloton but could not repeat another ‘all-out’ effort so soon after the last one and particularly with the group traveling so fast. I had to concede defeat. I felt embarrassed to get into the broom wagon. I hadn’t been dropped – I had dropped myself. It wasn’t until I got changed in my car at the finish that I understood what had happened. My look shoe plate had broken and my shoe had slipped across the pedal on each of the left hand turns giving me the sensation that my bike was stepping out.
I came away from the race quite satisfied despite the failure to complete the race as I had ridden well. I will be back again next year – a great race, well organized and a real challenge on a fantastic course.
Second Half - Kendalls on Holiday
We were planning to take a ferry to Fishguard from Rosslare and Kay was supposed to be looking on the web for accommodation in Wexford when she looked up and said – ‘we can do a triathlon en route (I responded with an articulate ‘eh?’) There is an event in Carrick on Suir you can do the try event and I will do the sprint.’ Decision made.
We arrived in Carrick on Friday afternoon. It had been raining for 3 days and as it would be my first open water swim. By this I don't mean first opem water race, but literally first open water swim! I thought I would have a look at the river Suir. I was horrified – it was a torrent – the bloody Zambeze in full spate. My wife lovingly laughed her legs off with no empathy whatsoever. Her view was that I would get down the river nice and quick, my view was that I would drown, get smashed into a bridge and probably be swept out to sea (I was now hysterical). Kay seemed to think I was joking when I said I was not getting ‘in that’. Whilst the race course had a grassy bank at the side of the river, if you overshot the exit, (a small set of steps) the following stretch of river was constrained by steep stone walls and there was no way to get out of the river there.
I did not sleep well on Friday night - I worried and fretted about the swim. On Saturday morning I got up pronto and went down to look at the river, buttocks clenched. Thank you Lord – the torrent had subsided and whilst the river was definitely running quickly, the surf had gone.
This was the first open water swim I had done for about 10 years and I had done minimal swim and run training focusing solely on my cycling. The race briefing was a bit odd – ‘All of you get in quickly as you won’t be able to stop yourself going down the river – we will start you on the bank’. I gathered up my (very limited) bravery and followed my competitors into the river. Once I was in I was committed. I swam out into the centre of the river to gain the benefit of the flow and was soon overtaking people (a new experience for me in a swim). I think the others decided that they would just float down but I tried to swim and soon I could only see one competitor ahead. I was desperately trying to sight the swim exit and decided that I should start to make my way closer to the bank so I could effect my exit from the river. My swim inexperience became evident to me – it was easy to get into the flow but hard to escape it. I swam perpendicular to the bank but still seemed to be making little progress toward the bank, ‘swim harder Gary’ I thought, then ‘harder still’, then ‘sprint’. I caught the downstream rail with my outstretched left arm. Unknowing onlookers probably admired the superb judgement and daring, not realizing that they had witnessed a man in utter and sheer desperation.
I jogged along to transition, feet squishing through the mud with a feeling of elation from escaping death (ok a bit overdramatic but I was happy). The fact that I was second out of the water escaped me entirely. This is a real pity as I am sure it is a first and last time it will be the case.
The rest of the try event was pretty uneventful – the cycle and run courses were user friendly and were not testing enough to spread the field of entrants. The drafting law seemed to have been suspended for the day but as I had not bothered with tri-bars I was not too preoccupied. I won first vet in the try event and Kay was 3rd overall and won a weekend in Kilarney so we both came away happy. Clearly, given my inexperience at triathlon, if I found Carrick a good event, anyone who is similarly inexperienced would enjoy this event. The atmosphere was great and the host club could not have been more welcoming (it would make a good club weekend trip Peter!).
Third Half - Home From Holiday
We got home on the Monday and Kay had entered us in a 5 mile run on Friday evening, the Lisburn Sprint event that Sunday and the Mourne Olympic distance the following weekend (the holiday was obviously a recovery phase in Kay’s parlance – translate this into a beer and burgers phase in Gary’s parlance). The Friday evening went ok for a non-runner like me but my lack of swimming became starkly exposed at Lisburn and Castlewellan. Despite zig-zagging all over Castlewellan lake I enjoyed the swim more than the Lisburn pool swim and suffice to say that my transitions and running off the bike needs attention (whats left?). My plan to jump into triathlon mid season has been shown to be naïve but needs must and I will have to find another event to enter as … well, why the hell not!
Whilst I was intent on ‘getting round’ at Lisburn and Castlewellan, others in the club were competing with distinction. Adrian who is in the middle of his training for Ironman UK, was first Triangle athlete home in 2:13, and 19th overall, followed by Kay who was 5th woman in a time of 2:25. Simpson McGrath , Gary Kendall and Gavin O'Kane all finished within one minute of each other at 2:38. Finally Linda Tomb finished in 3:04, almost 15 minutes quicker than her time on the course last year, well done Linda. Aplogies if I missed anyone, the results do not list clubs.
