Cascais 70.3: Don't Dream It's Over

So a little bit of a back story on Ironman branded 70.3s that I have done previously. Edinburgh 70.3 2017: swim cut short due to water temperature. Barcelona 70.3 2018: cut off at the first bike point due to being rubbish at hills. Weymouth 70.3 2018: swim cut short due to bad weather. So I've never finished a complete Ironman branded 70.3. Was Cascais to be my first? 

The day was due to be sunny but mild. We had some confusion over where our "street wear" bags should go which meant we had to walk back up the hill to registration, which was annoying! We then went to the start on the beach, where I positioned myself in the 45 minute wave, even though I thought my swim would take 50 minutes. There were a bunch of Tritons in that wave and Alan said I looked like I was going to be sick - I think I was super nervous! The announcer was giving a rousing speech about how great we were going to be which wasn't really helping. Finally the pros started with the ring of a bell and we were let through in waves. No beeps, just someone sending us through 6 at a time. 

I ran into the sea and dived into the waves as I'd practiced the day before and started to swim. I couldn't see anything as I'd not been able to rinse my goggles before, so had to spend a few seconds rinsing them out while treading water so I could see something. It made a big difference, although because of where the sun was and the hundreds of people in front of me it was really hard to sight or know where we were going. I just followed the crowd in front of me, which I know is bad but I didn't really have a choice. I'd forgotten quite how much I hated the washing machine effect of mass swims - although it wasn't a mass start there were so many people in the water it felt like it. We got to the first turn point and my hat started to feel like it was slipping. Unfortunately, I have a very large head and most swim caps don't really fit me especially if they are cheap, which sadly the Ironman caps have become. I tried a couple of times to pull it back over my head, because the rules clearly stated you had to wear the cap at all times, then I pulled it down so forcefully I knocked my goggles off! I gave up after that and decided if it was going to fall off it was going to fall off. And fall off it did, leaving me to attempt to sight with hair in my vision. Sigh. As we rounded the last corner, I swallowed a bit too much sea water and hacked it back up again (bleurgh!) but I could see the ramp and the way out, so I was determined to finish this damn swim and be out of the water. 

The exit was up a boat ramp so we didn't have to worry about getting sand all over our feet. But remember that boat ramp for later, OK? I was shocked to see that I'd done the swim in 44 minutes - my fastest swim for a while! 

I got into transition with a bunch of other Tritons which was great and we all got out of our swim stuff, into bike stuff and ran off to our bikes. We went out over some cobbles which was interesting (Cascais seems to be obsessed with cobbles, both on the road and on the pavements. I feel sorry for disabled people.) 

The bike started OK if a bit slowly - straight into a hill and then a short descent. Then we started the main ascent, which just seemed to go on FOREVER. I tried to tell myself it was like Cudham (a climb near Orpington that we go to), but it was like Cudham without the shade and much longer! I saw people who had had to stop already with punctures (CO2 going everywhere), and some poor soul who was walking back to transition with his bike. At about 12 km going up this damn hill my legs weren't having any more and I had to stop and have a word with myself. I was still feeling a bit sick from the sea water too. Annoyingly about half a km further up the road we came to a flat section and a little village! There were more hills though, some which looked much steeper, and descents that then ended up turning up into further climbs. I started to run out of water, which was a concern, but I knew that at 20km we would get to the circuit and I could top up. It was hot, horrible and everyone came past me. All the Ironman cyclists started coming past as well. We went past the "12% descent" followed by the speed bump and then the sharp left hand turn, then finally we were on the descent to the race circuit. I would have enjoyed this more if I'd had anything left to drink, but I was more focused on getting to the aid station so I could finally top up. I was so relieved to have done the hilly section and be on the descent towards the sea. The race circuit was tricky because I wanted to hug the racing line and someone did try to come up inside me and shout "on your left" angrily but I didn't move for them. Finally topped up and with some liquid in me I carried on out of the race circuit and down towards Estoril. I hadn't looked much at the rest of the cycle course and thought it was fairly flat with a couple of "blips". It was not flat. The first blip was evil up the hill, and I kind of lost it as I tried to U-turn far to early and ended up having to go right round a roundabout back the correct way (someone shouted at me "What are you doing?" I didn't know!). Finally I got round the blip and back down the hill towards the sea. The road to Lisbon was interminable, painful and NEVER ENDED. At one point I heard this "pssssh" behind me and I thought, that's it, game over, I have a puncture. Actually, it was my race number rubbing against my wheel. It was incredibly annoying but not race ending. Then my feet started to feel like they were burning, first the soles then the toes. It was SO SORE. In the end I had to stop and stretch to try and relieve the pain, which did help. In the end I had to take some paracetamol at the next aid station to see if that would help at all. I was also hoping that the wind we were suffering with on the way to Lisbon would be a tailwind on the way home, but if anything it seemed to be worse😖. It was great to see so many Tritons out on the course and that really lifted my spirits. On the way back along the not-so-flat-and-windy road, back past Belém, past what I now know is Padrão dos Descobrimentos, a bizarre monument to the Portuguese Age of Discovery. My feet were absolutely killing me, no amount of even taking my feet off the pedals and trying to shake them were helping. By the time I got back to Cascais (rounding the bay was a particular highlight), I was almost in tears with the pain from my burning toes, it was just agony. I was also convinced that I was over time, that I'd let down my husband, my coach, and that I was a terrible triathlete. That I shouldn't be a triathlon coach. As someone pointed out to me later, I was in a Very Dark Place. I was already planning on entering a half marathon elsewhere as I'd resigned myself to being cut off. In fact, I discovered later that I entered T2 at 13:20 when the hard cut off was 13:37. I'd started at 8:02 so I also had about 10 minutes on my 5h 30 cut off. I got through transition in 4 minutes and started the run. Transition took me a few minutes longer because I forgot my cycling shorts on so had to run back to put them back in my bag! 

So I had 3 hours and a few minutes to do my half marathon. Now, bear in mind that my last two half marathons at the end of 70.3 have taken me a good 3 and a half hours, it was hot, I had given everything in the bike, and I had been ready to be cut off at the end of the bike. I'd also not run longer than maybe 13 km in training since March. The run had a really joyous (*sarcasm*) long gradual hill climb out of the town. Did I mention it was hot too? I walked through every aid station, throwing water over myself, almost drowning myself in the process sometimes! I drank all the coke I could and cheered on the Tritons coming the other way, who seemed as surprised as I was that I'd made it to the run. The run went on forever, and did go a little bit downhill before we had to go back up again and past the lighthouse. I was wiping down my hands on my legs, and my suit felt rough, it took me a while to realise that I'd sweated so much there were dried patches of salt on my shorts. 

Somehow still running

The run took us down into the marina and back up that blasted ramp we got out of when we were swimming. Just after the ramp were Julie and Stuart, where Julie told me to go faster. Ha, I thought, this is about as fast as I can go. Round the turn around point - once again not being cut off! - and back on the climb out of town 😒. I'd just about had enough and was really struggling to run, there were a lot more walk breaks on this time around. More aid stations, more water over my face, most of them cheering and saying força or "let's go, let's go", past the weird guy dancing with horns on his head, past Thea, past Ian, past Michelle, who I told I wouldn't make the final cut off. I saw the lighthouse ahead of me, and thought, do we go past that? Yes, yes we did. At least we only had to do it twice. Round the turnaround point, and finally back into town. I was surrounded by Ironman athletes, otherwise this would have been very lonely. It was still hot. My watch says it reached 35 degrees but I think actually it was more like 26...

I finally made it back to the marina where I noticed a man with a moped following me. I knew by this stage trying to get to the end before the cut off was impossible. He came up to me and said something in Portuguese which I understood to mean "your time is over" but he didn't try to stop me, so I continued running, responding "I know". Closer to the end of the marina, the Ironman winner came past me. I wondered if they would let me through the finishing gate, and I saw Stuart and Julie again cheering me on to the finish. As I got to the end, the Ironman winner was just going through the finish with the ticker tape and everything, and THEY LET ME THROUGH! So I got the end of the ticker tape and everyone was just cheering me through the finish line! It was an incredibly surreal experience, and the winner shook my hand just after I crossed the line. They even gave me a medal and a T-shirt!

Turns out I was even in the official video 😂

I have to say even though I was 10 minutes over the cut off for the run, my run was 10 minutes faster than my two previous 70.3s. I was very proud that I actually finished and didn't just give up. 

As always, I want to thank my husband Stuart for all of his support and to coach T, who has got me back on my feet after Covid... maybe next time I'll break the curse of the Ironman 70.3.