Disappeared for a while to do something special............IRONMAN 70.3 Edinburgh

My weekends have always a been filled with sport. But over the last few years it has been more about me doing the activities rather than watching. 

A few weekends ago I took part in something truly amazing. 

Brief race report 

Finished but not perfect. 

The race was always going to be hard and I was worried that it would defeat me. I had trained throughout the winter and was the strongest I had ever been. 

Being a native Scot I should have known better and remembered that even the sea swims in Scotalnd have hills! Honestly, I probably should have pushed for more hill sessions from my trainer but I didn't. The goal was to finish. Even if I had to crawl across that one at 8hours 29mintues and 59seconds I was going to finish. 

On the morning of the triathlon the goal was just to get the wetsuit on. If anyone had given me even a hint of an out I would have been back in the car and home in a shot. I was nervous. But I shouldn't have been. We, and when I say we I mean the amazing support crew I have, had put in the training, thought through every scenario and rehearsed any aspect we could. 5 years ago when I started on this mad triathlon path by doing a super sprint I never saw myself at a Ironman 70.3 start, but there I was. 

After a freezing wait in the boxes before the swim, the Forth felt like a Jacuzzi, in hell. Hitting the water my aim was strong water polo stroke and sight every three strokes. The swim was rougher than anyone expected, I think, but I kept my suffering to a minimum. Had to keep as much as possible for the bike. 

The previous day's drive round in the rain was as good a look as I was going to get at the course. The Facebook group had been a fountain of knowledge but next time I am going to physically cycle the course well before the race. There were no great surprises but as they say better the devil you know, and I wish I had know more about the bike. However the views were spectacular and I would advise anyone doing a long distance event to take a moment to appreciate where you are, what you are doing and just be proud. 

After what felt like way too long on the bike, and finding out later that the timing chip I had had failed so no one knew where I was, I pulled into T2 to a lot of relieved familiar faces. The bike had taken more out of my legs than I had expected, and despite months of transition sessions in training, the jelly legs were there and they were going to stay for most of the first lap. Run/jog/march/walk/crawl was always the plan and was the plan I stuck to. I sang up and down that tunnel and said hello and thank you to every volunteer. It wasn't a pretty run, but one of the most enjoyable I have ever had. 

On reflection, I finished, it wasn't perfect, but I couldn't be prouder. 

The Barcelona Ironman  is still the plan for 2019 and I think Edinbugh 70.3 will be done again as a "warm up" to that event.

Below you can find a longer reflective look on the day. 

Longer reflection and thanks 

Ironman 70.3 Edinburgh 

Sitting on a plane flying home to Barcelona reflecting on an amazing weekend. Everyone involved was so friendly. I met people from all over the world and felt part of a massive family, the Edinburgh 70.3 family. I cannot thank all involved enough, the groups on Facebook, the race directors but the biggest thanks goes to the volunteers, you made the day.

When the rumours began to circulate that Edinburgh would be hosting the first Ironman event in Scotland in the city I had to make the decision to change the race plan for 2017. I had recently completed a half distance triathlon and there was video evidence of me saying “never again” so signing up for Edinburgh was going to be a massive change to the plans for the following year. But how could I miss coming home to TRI in my home city. I had never expected my triathlon journey to bring me home let alone to do an Ironman 70.3. 

January saw me signed up, joining a running club,  regularly going to swim sessions with a coach and cycling most weekends. I am not the greatest runner and still have a lot (a lot a lot a lot) learn on the bike but this was not going to stop me setting the goal of being on the start line on the 2nd July. 7 months seemed a long way a way. 

The countdown timer was set and reality started to kick in. Edinburgh is hilly, cold and windy and the Firth of Forth takes no prisoners, what on Earth was I thinking? Swimming in the Med in winter is either 16° and flat calm or 16° and giant waves, not the 12° and choppy chaos that the Firth throws at you. 

Race week came about in a flash, 12 weeks to go soon became 12 days, then it was 12 hours! As the clock struck 7pm on the 1st of July the stomach was full of butterflies having kittens! Nerves had kicked in big time, emotions were all over the place and food was not going to stay in the tummy. The inner Panic button had well and truly been pressed. 

Race morning and the 4am alarm chimed through the house (not that I needed it sleep eluded me most of the night). The plan was to eat breakfast, have a cup of tea and continue with the hydration plan. The body had other ideas. Nothing was going in, everything was coming out. But I couldn’t panic, I had trained for this for months and I had to trust myself and my training (my stomach not so much.) thoughts in our house had been of this day for months. Every scenario had been played out over the breakfast table, tactics talked about over lunch and problems thrashed out at dinner. I just hoped I had the same faith in myself that others had in me. 

The drive to Prestonpans was made in silence, the hubby knew I was nervous and just let me do what I needed to do. But what I really wanted to do was turn the car around and hide away. I had never had “stage fright” like this before, was it a sign that I wasn’t ready. The head started to let all the negativity in, I am not ready, not good enough, too fat, too slow, terrible swimmer, can’t ride a bike, will never be able to get round the run route, the bike will fail, my stomach will fail, I will fail all those who had supported to get to the start. But I am a stubborn bugger and after the head had run out of things to say I was ready………….

The plan had been to get a swim in the Forth before Sunday morning but Scottish weather and time had been against me. It wasn’t like I hadn’t been in the sea before, paddling at Burntisland beach when I was 14 counted, right? Looking out over the Firth of Forth the waves and wind made the water look like the inside of a washing machine. It was the correct decision to cut the swim in half as safety is, and always should be, the highest priority. 

The wetsuit was on, the booties pulled over the feet and the cap snapped on the head, time to go. Or was it? If someone had said I could have walked away at that moment guilt free I would have gone. I had no intention of getting in that water cause I wasn't sure I was going to get out. But like I said I am a stubborn bugger so I joined the Q to enter the water and go into the “zone”, well into the Q at least not sure I knew about any zones at that point. As a swimmer who has spent the winter battling the cold (what I thought was a cold 16°) and the waves of the Mediterranean. Glad I did as it gave a me a tiny weeny insight into what was awaiting us in the Forth. The coldest part of the day was the waiting to get into the water. By the time I got into the chaos I found the water almost tropical, tropical storm-like maybe! This was not going to be a pretty swim and on several occasions I looked  around to see kayaks swamped with wetsuits and a few folk looking worse for wear.” Just keep you eyes on the buoys and strong, hard strokes and you can do this” was what running though my head and I am sure at one point I actually enjoyed the swim. 6 months of once-a-week sea-swimming almost prepared me for that swim, almost. 

The bike was going to be a massive test of character. The Facebook group had been a fountain of knowledge and I knew it was going to be a little hilly and a few leg burners to make you feel like you were really working for that finisher medal. Catalunya has hills, it has wind (usually in one direction at a time), it occasionally has rain. Even though I am a Scottish lass, living and training in Barcelona has made me a little soft when it comes to the weather. The bike course was not going to let me be even a little suave, the wind was everywhere, hills were everywhere, but the excitement was also everywhere. The goal for the bike was to get the nutrition right, hydration right and to enjoy it. Even though I was an ex-local, I had never swum in the Forth, cycled around Edinburgh or run up Arthur’s seat. I didn't want to miss this because my head was off wandering and not paying attention and taking it in. It was the hardest cycle I had done and I have learnt from this not to skip on hill session and even when you think you have done enough another one can't hurt (it might kill the legs but it can……..t hurt). It was hard but upon seeing the course photos I had a smile on my face in everyone. I loved it if the photos are to be believed. With the gels and isotonic staying in and feeling truly broken after the last climb round Arthur’s seat on the bike I knew what was to come. The dreaded run. 

Running and I have love- hate relationship. It thinks I should love it but 4 times out of 5 I hate it. I joined a run club back in January and that has to have been the best decision I made on the triathlon journey. I might not run fast but I have learnt to run happy. Knowing that I am no runner and can suffer quiet badly on the run I always had the idea to  march/run the up hills and enjoy the run on the downhills. The legs were jelly of the bike and took a long time to realise they were running. A brick session most weeks can prepare you for most things but Edinburgh 70.3 you are not like most things. I knew I had time to crawl round the 3 sadistic laps and I had said before this started “I will cross that bloomin line even if I have to crawl over it”. If it hadn't been for the uplifting volunteers I probably would have crawled up the first hill and stopped. This event would have been nothing without the volunteers, you guys deserve a part of everyone’s finisher medal. I tried to say thank you to you all on the way round because you guys rocked my race. I will never forget the sign “smile if you pee’d in your wetsuit”, no one ran past that with a frown. 

The right hip started to remind me of a previous injury about km 10 and just wouldn't loosen up. This slowed me right down but didn't stop me as it had done on a previous running race. I had put in the hours, run the KMs and knew that I could get the legs round. It might not have been the graceful run round I dreamed of. 

Being one of the last on the course you worry that no one will be there to see you finish but not in Edinburgh. Fellow triathletes cheering as they make their way home, family and friends who waited in the scottish weather to see me run down that carpet, volunteers who seemed to have never ending enthusiasm, the city did everyone proud. I am so inspired by the volunteers that I am volunteering at the upcoming Barcelona Ironman events. 

There it was, that black and red carpet, your name be shouted by family, random people who just want to see you finish and the fantastic commentary provided by Joanne Murphy, and all I was thinking is just don't vomit until you cross the line. Always when I finish a race I need a wee seat and a plastic bag. This time was going to be no different. But it was. That thought left my head as soon as hit the first M dot. I had done what I set out to do, what I thought I could never do. I had in my hand a finisher’s medal from the first Edinburgh 70.3

 

I must go back through this race report and change all the I s to we s as this was a team effort. My trainer who adapts my training as my work throws its curve balls at the training schedule. Tfswim and Tfrun for accepting a shy immigrant and making swimming and running fun. The family for supporting this “nonsense” and of course the other half who cycles with me for hours on end, who runs along with me in all weathers and makes sure I am fuelled, who has even joined the triathlon gang. I should say a big thank you to all.  Even more so as I discovered that my timing chip had failed and no one could follow me online. No wonder the boyfriend looked relieved as I ran into to T2. 

A week later and the high is still keeping the few aches and pains at bay and hasn't stopped the preparing for the next triathlon. Of course lessons have been learnt from this experience. Hill sessions are a must, even when I think I am ok, I am not. Strength in the upper body to make the bike a more comfortable ride and a better bike position. And as always run run run. Positives to take away. Rehearsals are key, they make transitions, tyre changes, wetsuit removal  stress free. If the nutrition works, stick with it, even if you have to ship 10 gels, tub of isotonic and breakfast cereal in your bike box. Trust your body. It might be nervous, it might be scared but it can do wonderful things. Thank you Ironman Edinburgh 70.3 for making me do a wonderful thing.