I know I've been quiet on here this year. I did Ride London again, but my race report for that was essentially "sheer bloody agony. Agony. Agony. I think I broke my foot." Side note, I did not break my foot or have a stress fracture, I have this very annoying thing called sinus tarsi syndrome, which causes a tiny swelling but a LOT of pain and has essentially made me unable to do any running this year beyond 5k. I ended up doing two aquabikes in the summer, the Bridge sprint (where I came third!) and Midnightman half, where I came first and last in the aquabike 😂.
Anyway, on to Belgium. I'd spent most of the week before with massive anxiety. I was worried about the race as well as driving on the other side of the road, as I'd not done it in my car before. This caused me to sleep badly and my HRV was very low (this apparently is not good). It didn't help that my gear cable snapped on Sunday before the race, causing me to get a train home, which was annoying. Luckily Ben from Pink Cycles was able to fit a new cable and instructions to be more careful with putting the bike in the car, where the cable was rubbing. Bob the bike had a pillow to rest on as a result on its way to and from Belgium 😂. The drive in the end was fine, apart from the driving rain and the lorries spraying water, which was horrid.
We racked our bikes on the Saturday, and there were a couple of loud bangs from other tyres, so we decided to let our tyres down a bit. Transition was split, so we checked the swim, which had this massive fountain which I hoped would be turned off the next day. Then we got on the bus to T2. We spent a bit more time there, checking out the bike in and where we would rack our bikes, before I walked back into town with Martin. The night rolled by with thunderstorms and more terrible sleep for me.
Sunday morning started fresh and clear. I walked to the casino to catch the bus. A few Tritons joined me and we travelled to T1. Once there, I sorted my bottles and actually remembered to break up my food into my bento box. I checked out the bike exit and then stood in a very slow portaloo queue. We then stood for a long time in our swim pens waiting for the start.
Swim: Bun fight plus weeds
We were set off four at a time off a pontoon. I dived off, my goggles did dislodge a bit so I had to quickly remove the water. For some reason I found the racing line which meant that people behind me that were faster kept trying to swim over me. It was absolute carnage. I ended up kicking more than I normally would to stop people from trying to swim over me. It did get a bit better once we got round the corner, but that was when the weeds started. Every arm seemed to gather weeds as I tried hard to swim straight (I actually think the course was slightly wonky because I kept finding myself almost in the middle rope!). It seemed forever to get to the turning with the fountain, which they hadn't turned off... Round the corner and another turn back to the fountain. We had to swim under this huge plume of water, which I wasn't able to breathe in... The exit was ahead, I got out and then we had to go over a bridge to get to transition.
Transition was busy, but I couldn't see any Tritons, so I tried to quickly get my wetsuit off and my bike gear on. I'd tried to put some kinesiology tape round my ankle to support it, but unfortunately all the kicking must have loosened it, and I just had to take it off. I just got new cycling shoes and found they were almost impossible to run in without causing myself an injury. When I got to the bike, it was the only one left so I assumed that all the other Tritons were out on the bike course. We had to exit via cobbles which was not fun with my bike shoes, but after 10 minutes of faffing (still in the Gary Shaw school for transition, clearly) I finally got to the mount line and on my bike.
Bike: Off, off, off with your head; Dance, dance dance til you're dead
So I had a bike fit just over a week before this event, and I hadn't really biked much since then. I was more comfortable on the bike than I had been for a while, but I was felt much slower than everyone else, as people kept coming past me and the only people I overtook were an old couple on their bikes (not in the race)! The wind was a major factor. It was just relentless. You can see on my ride track how much faster I was in one direction vs going the other way. Unfortunately for me the slower way seemed to be most of the route 😔. It was flat flat, so I was pedalling all the way, with the odd stand up out of the pedals to stretch. At least with the bike fit I was much more comfortable on my saddle, however my hands did get sore after a while and I spent a bit of time trying to shake them off. The ride was mostly on side roads and bike paths, which was really interesting and made me a bit jealous of their great cycling infrastructure. The first aid station came up really quickly, so I refilled my water bottle, had a quick stretch and off I went again. I think this is when I started to be buffeted by the wind the most. I am like a sail in the wind, as due to stupid balance issues I can't get on to the drops and I definitely do not have aero bars... Peter came past me, saying "see you on the run", I was thinking "I'm not sure I'll make it to the run"! I was very impressed he was riding still with his pannier rack on the back, making it look easy! Stephen came past me, then slowed down, so I overtook him, he overtook me, then he had to stop to stretch while I navigated past some cobbles (thankfully there weren't many of these on the course!). I was so glad he'd managed to get through the swim and onto the bike. Finally he cycled off into the distance while I kept pootling on. My ankle started to hurt, and it was nearly time to take my second dose of paracetamol. I stopped briefly to do that, then carried on my way. Leyla came past me, so there were Tritons behind me, I just didn't realise it. Finally I got to the second aid station, more topping up my water bottle and stretching. I shook my head at the helper and complained about the wind, but he said "it's just going to continue". Thanks mate.
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| Garmin track of my bike leg. You can clearly see one way is faster than the other! |
In the final section, my burning feet returned. I was really hoping the bike fit would help this and stop it, but apparently not. I had to try and take my feet out of the pedals and give them a shake to try and lessen the pain, it was awful. The right foot didn't want to come out at all, but finally it did and I gave it a shake. I was determined not to stop again until I got to the final aid station. Once there, I tried to shake everything out as well as filling up my water bottle for the final time. I did find a bit of speed for the last few km (thanks wind) and FINALLY the dismount line came into view. The "bike in" was past a weird grassed kids' playing area, after that I dropped my bike off and started hobbling towards the bags. Someone asked me if I was OK and a medic was dispatched to help me. She gave me an ice pack after I explained the stupid ankle issue and asked me if I really wanted to go out on the run. I said I had to try. So I put my trainers on, had my customary T2 wee (but this time without any drama) and I was off on the run.
The run: a step too far?
Out of transition and it was very warm. The sun had come out and it was hard work through the park to the run on the promenade. I saw Stuart for the first time, he looked a bit cross (apparently he was worried because I'd taken so much time in T2, which is usually quick). I ran on onto the promenade. It was great to see lots of Tritons, and I had a lot of random people on the side of the road shouting stuff to me in Belgian... I don't speak a word so I have absolutely no idea what they were saying. I think they were trying to be encouraging, but when you have to walk because your ankle is in pain, it wasn't very helpful. My ankle felt like there were knives going into it, and I was really suffering. Every time I tried to run it hurt. I was worried I'd end up doing myself a long-term injury. I really wanted to do the full run, but accepted that I would probably have to do one lap and then DNF myself. After six months of only being able to do short walks and the occasional Parkrun, I was not prepared for a half marathon. I was in pain, it was very hot, and finally I got back to Stuart after yet more people attempting to "cheer" me on (I was not finding it helpful at all because they didn't seem to understand that I HAD to walk and didn't have much of a choice). I said to Stuart, I think I have to finish, I can't run, it feels like daggers in my foot. So I asked a helper and he said I could run down the finish line.
I run down the finish line, not feeling elated, everyone is cheering me on, they announce my name, it feels very odd. I haven't deserved this, I don't deserve the medal they hang round my neck. It feels like cheating. Once again, the curse of the IM 70.3 has hit. I don't think I'm going to do another one for a while until I can get myself properly fit and ankle/foot issues sorted.
