Half-Ironman, middle distance triathlon or 70.3 – they’re all the same thing and feature the same race distances: a 1.9km swim, 90km bike and a 21.1km run – or there or thereabouts.
I’ve always liked the idea of the distance for a race, partially because I’m pretty comfortable with completing all three on their own but also because the training load doesn’t appear too excessive. Compared to the training I see in programmes and posted online for Ironman, it seems much friendlier in terms of recovery and joint damage.
Originally, I’d hoped to complete my first 70.3 in 2015 having dipped my toe into the triathlon waters in the summer of 2014, but a long-term hip injury curtailed that plan. I did eventually book my first half-iron at 2017’s Grafman, pretty much on a whim and having seen Sarah have a crack at Vitruvian in September 2016. As it turned out, chilly conditions on the day cut the swim in half – not great for an athlete with a swimming background – so it’s difficult to count as being my first, but I’ll take it anyway.
Fast forward to August 2018, this weekend just gone, and I found myself toeing the line for my second effort at the 113km race, the Cotswold Classic, organised by 113events in Ashton Keynes. I’m not one for lengthy race reviews or detailed reports, but I do think it’s useful, constructive and interesting to look at what I think I learned from the day and can take away for the future.
So, here’s five things I learned from my second half-Ironman: –
- Conservative pacing equals greater enjoyment
One of the main challenges in any endurance event is not going too hard too soon. I always remember something I read about running marathons that described them as being as much an exercise in restraint as physical ability – essentially holding back when the natural urge to is to go harder.
From the get-go in Sunday’s race I felt consciously aware that I could go faster or dig deeper, right up until the finish, which left me feeling in control and on top of my effort level. This doesn’t mean taking it easy, and from my experience I emptied the tank, as they say, and had nothing left to give at the end of the race.
To me, what this meant was that I didn’t have a feeling of chasing some intangible goal or achievement – striving to go faster or overtake more people in search of a quicker time or better position. I had fairly solid plans for my effort levels and I’m pretty happy I stuck them, give or take.
And ultimately this gave me the chance to soak it all up a bit more, feel a bit stronger throughout the race and cross the finish line satisfied with a plan well executed.
- Focus on the process, not the outcome
It’s a bit of an old cliché this, but it’s definitely true. Throughout my recent race efforts I’ve tried to avoid assessing the success or otherwise of my events based purely on the outcome – there are a myriad of conditions that can affect a finishing time, particularly the longer the event or more disciplines involved.
The race itself is only a small part of the entire process. As much as I enjoy slapping a number on and fighting for position at buoys, the real enjoyment for me is in getting up every day and ticking off another training session or two. Travelling through that journey and completing that process is fun to me, and I feel so lucky to be able to spend so much time doing three things I love so much – swimming, cycling and running.
Ultimately, the finishing time is just the culmination of all that work and a partial reflection on what you’ve done to get there. It’s also an arbitrary measure of performance or ability, and only you truly care about what it says about you or your training.
One of my current favourite ways of looking at triathlons is to view them not as one entire race, but as three distinct time trials. With that in mind, I like to focus on my goals for each discipline and do the best I can towards achieving those targets. It makes it all much more enjoyable that purely looking at my time or position.
- The right tools for the job
In completing Grafman I recorded my fastest 90km on a bike and then run a half marathon in one of the quicker times of the day – but I couldn’t shake a feeling of disappointment, which spilled over into my only other triathlon in 2017, the Leeds ITU standard distance event.
On both days, I raced on a road bike – admittedly a high end, top spec bike which I was lucky enough to win in a competition, but still a road bike. Throughout the Grafman bike leg I watched other riders flash past me on TT bikes, with a final figure of around 150 people overtaking me. Even the nature of triathlon meaning that I ‘regained’ 90-odd of those places on the run wasn’t enough to leave me feeling happy with my day’s work.
As a result, I cracked open the piggy bank and invested in a TT bike with a professional fitting and a few other tri/TT specific bits and bobs – nothing like a bout of retail therapy to improve your mood.
Did I go faster as a result of the investment? Definitely. Is that the reason I’m glad I did it? No, not particularly, although it does help – I didn’t feel like a slowly-moving chicane this time around, even though I was still a long way from the top of the bike leg standing.
The real benefit to me was how I felt using what I perceived to be the right tools for the job – I didn’t feel like I’d brought a knife to a gun fight. I know it doesn’t matter how you look or what other people think and it’s all about getting out there and taking on your challenge – but I know I felt less like a fish out of water, enjoying my investment in the sport I love.
- Racing – experience and practice pays off
Since returning to sport in my 30s I’ve enjoyed taking part in races and events, but mainly for the feeling of satisfaction after the event. Beforehand, I regularly feel anxious and unsure that I’ll make the distance, maintain the effort level I’m hoping for or enjoy the occasion.
As a result, I’ve definitely ducked out of events I had at one time fancied or reduced races to going through the motions in order to eliminate perceived risk.
This year, however, I’ve made a real effort to race more and learn lessons along the way. That’s particularly relevant in triathlon, where there’s a huge amount of kit to prepare in advance and many potential stumbling blocks along the way.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m no world champion and I’m still early in my racing ‘career’, but through thought, repetition and planning, I’m pretty comfortable with how to organise and manage myself on race day. Which leads nicely to…
- Logistics and planning play a big part before and after the event
With the race start being a couple of hours from home, it was never going to be possible to travel on the day for a start time in the region of 7am. As a result, we booked a trusty Travelodge in nearby Swindon, reducing the travel on the day to around 30 mins.
However, I didn’t really check the details well enough – this particular Travelodge was located in the town centre, with no adjacent car park, which proved to be a ball-ache when lugging bikes and kit around the block on arrival and even more so at 5am on the Sunday. This definitely held us up in getting to the race venue, which squeezed the time available to set up in transition.
The hotel location also impacted on sleep the night before the race – it’s pretty warm in the UK at the moment, compared to our normal perma-autumn, so sleeping without at least an open window is near impossible. This meant that the normal Saturday evening town centre noises were allowed to infiltrate our room – noisy cars racing up and down the roads, breaking glass on the streets and standard weekend revelry could all be heard throughout the night.
Of course, none of the above are a problem to me and everyone’s free to spend their time and money how they choose, but I would have liked to at least get some sleep before an early start and a long race.
Next time – a less urban location would be better, even if it costs a little more.
In conclusion and next on the agenda
Overall, I loved this race and I’m really pleased with how it went. I feel like I could have gone quicker and potentially improved my times, but I don’t think I could have enjoyed it more.
This time last year, having completed two races in the first part of the summer, racing felt like something I needed to do to justify the training and allow myself to continue burning (and replacing) mountains of calories – I’m still a fat guy and weight-loser on the inside.
Right now, the training and racing all feel a bit more symbiotic – I feel like I’ve worked hard and consistently on all three sports, especially since the disappointment of missing London Marathon through injury.
A good race, to me, encourages more discipline, more focus and renewed application to my individual goals, both in terms of performance and enjoyment.
It’s a good job I get to do it all again in a month.