Patrick O'Hare, a Piranha newbie, has provided an interesting insight (and possibly the longest in the history of Triathlon Ireland, let alone Piranha) race report on his first triathlon in TriAthlone ....
It is well worth a read as he is quite an interesting bloke with a funny reflective style of describing his experience ... but I would advise reading it at lunch time or else the boss will definitely catch you reading it !!!
My First Triathlon
When I read 220 Triathlon I often come across a new contributor saying things like “I come from a background of long-distance running ….” or “As a swimmer in college ….”
The best I can manage is that “I come from a background of four iced-doughnuts for breakfast …” (breakfast of champions as my GP laughs all the while totting up his income from me in the last year).
Anyway, I’m not your normal triathlete – I’m not even your normal couch potato. Think of Mat Lucas and you’ll understand the shape I wish I was in. But I’m getting there.
Last September I hit twenty six stone on the scales (I’ve re-read that bit and it’s not a typo) and, although I wasn’t feeling too bad, I thought it was probably time to do something about it. Especially as I have Type II diabetes (as did my mum and dad) and I have three adorable children under three and a very understanding but worried wife. I hit the gym like a ton of bricks …. literally. Three months of “pushing myself” and then “treating myself” had managed to shift a pitiful stone and a half.
As one of life’s prevaricators (why do something today which can be done tomorrow), I respond well to being under pressure, especially external pressure. So I decided that I would undertake a double challenge for charity. I wrote to clients and contacts on 1 January 2008 pledging to lose five stone by the end of June 2008 and complete the TriAthlone sprint distance triathlon in under 1 hour and 30 minutes. That’s right. In fact, I was so *censored*y that my first draft of the letter had me doing it in 1:25. However, sanity prevailed and I gave myself a whole five extra minutes. After all, how hard could it be?
Oh, that’s right, I couldn’t swim, I hadn’t been on a bike in almost twenty years and I couldn’t run without my heart rate doing a passable impression of an interballistic missile taking off like a scalded cat. In a blissful state of “having done something” I informed my personal trainer in Westpoint, Susan Fraser, of what I had done. She started to look decidedly unhealthy. Apparently she knew something I didn’t ….. the effort involved probably.
I decided to do what most accountants do when faced with a new challenge (especially a physical challenge) …. I bought a heap of books. I am now possess about twenty triathlon books and dozens of triathlon and cycling magazines. The pictures look great (marketing) and most people seem to be having a good time (marketing). Continuing in accountant mode, I created a spreadsheet to monitor my progress. This constituted my first months training or so.
I came to the end of January and had lost the grand total of 1lb off my target of 70lb. Bugger. Five stone in five months now. Great. At least the sponsorship was coming in – as were the expressions of shock (you … triathlon?), concern (what if you get attacked by a shark on the swim?), ignorance (what’s a triathlon?), concern again (you do understand you have to do them one after the other?). I ended up raising over €8,000 for my charity “To Russia With Love” who look after Russian orphans who have no hope or expectation of being adopted. A big thanks to all who supported me.
My second month started better than the first and I finally managed to get a rhythm going on the weight-loss thing. In fact, I had always been sporty at school and it was only when I left school and got a car that I made a policy decision not to use those legs things again. So I was rediscovering the enjoyment of athletic suffering.
Swimming
I started swimming lessons with Sandra Cole in Westpoint in February. In my first session she showed me how to do the breathing (it wasn’t difficult after all) and I managed nearly a whole length before blowing up. Then the next session two lengths in a row. Then I managed four lengths in the next session although I nearly barfed all over the deck at the end and I really felt that I was never going to get to the required distance. The next few sessions went by in a blur and I was making very incremental progress and was getting quite downhearted about the prospects for doing thirty lengths in a row.
Sometime in the middle of that month I made a trip to Cycleworx to check out bikes and I got speaking to the owner who was very nice and didn’t even laugh when I started enquiring about bikes lighter than my left wrist. He said that the swimming would just click one day and I would make a quantum leap almost without realising it. You know what – he was right. One day I got in the pool and just decided to see how far I could go if I just relaxed and swam slower. I managed ten lengths and only stopped because my brain engaged and told me I had just swum ten lengths and wasn’t I only supposed to be able to do four. I was elated. Elated you understand. The swim training went very well after that and I was clocking over 4,000 metres a week by the time I started tapering, don’t ya know, for TriAthlone.
I made my wetsuit decision by the simple expedient of getting the website of every wetsuit manufacturer and checking out the size charts to find the biggest wetsuit available. It was a C:2 from 2XU and I ordered it from Trisports.com. It arrived sometime in May and I couldn’t get into it. At least I had bought the right size. Now I just had to shrink to fit before the race. I managed it sometime in June with the not inconsiderable assistance of my incredulous wife to pull the zip up at the back while I held the edges together. Not pleasant to look at but whatever works. Anyway, I actually felt great with it on and now much prefer to swim with it on – even in a pool. Still lazy with the legs.
I went down to the swim practice on the Wednesday before the race and arrived early (they had switched the time from 7.00pm to 8.30pm but I hadn’t got the email). Anyway, the water seemed unbelievably cold when I got in at 7pm and I only finally got in because the slipway was so slippery that I couldn’t turn around and get back out. I did a short up and down the river staying close to the bank and then got out shivering and desperately wanting to go home – especially as the heavens opened and we were treated to thunder and lightning.
At least I was in a wetsuit unlike my poor sister who had come down to “strap me in” and who now had to retreat to the car. Before she went she convinced me to wait for the session at 8.30pm so I did, grumbling. As I set off at 8.30pm, I found the water wasn’t quite so cold as standing in the rain and I was pleasantly surprised by the pure water quality. I did the full swim and even managed to pass a number of people out (I wasn’t racing honest) and I got out on a high. I was going to be able to do the swim. I was going to finish the race. It was the high point of the entire experience and I was walking (well driving) on cloud nine all the way home to Meath.
Biking
I used to be a member of the Irish Road Club when I was a nipper at a time when Kelly and Roche were kicking continental ass all over the road and the American challenge was confined to Greg Le Monde. Now it’s all changed. At the risk of sounding like something out of Dad’s Army, today’s cyclists don’t know they were born. Indexed shifting, integrated gears and brakes, compact cranksets, aerobars, disc wheels. It seemed to me that all you had to do was sit on the bike and it would basically do the work for you. Read the ads again – that’s what they’re saying – except that ad that talks about a trip to a town called Hurtsville – that’s just scary.
Anywhoo, I’m an absolute gear junky. I’d like to think that I had the highest ratio of money spent on triathlon to natural talent in the entire TriAthlone race. In fact I know I did. I think I calculated at some point that it would have been better for the charity if I hadn’t bothered to do the challenge and just given them the money. It’s an investment I keep telling myself.
Having drooled over many bikes and conducted massive quantities of research I decided to plump for a P2C. I really would have liked a P3C but it seemed too bling for a fat guy. I even chickened out from buying the Dura-Ace build of the P2C and opted for the Ultegra build as I felt I would look too stupid on the bright colours of the DA P2C and would look more inconspicuous on the grey and white Ultegra. I hadn’t realised that a huge man on a tri bike would look daft anyway and I should have been hung for a sheep as a lamb. Anyway, I had no sooner bought the bike (which I absolutely love) before I saw a picture of a Willier Cento Chrono and fell head over heels. It’s definitely going to be my next TT bike.
Having bought the bike I waited two weeks before I had the courage to get on it. I weaved around the car park for a solid half-hour in the dark one night after everyone had gone home. I still nearly managed to hit the office block inadvertently but was exhilarated to be on a bike again and quickly got my balance right to some extent.
One thing I noticed right away is that I had lost quite a bit of balance. I had been a good sprinter when I was younger and had good bike handling skills. However, the addition of 100% of my bodyweight in the intervening twenty years had caused my centre of gravity to shift about four feet higher until it was now somewhere over my head. I didn’t dare reach for the aerobars for another two weeks.
I bought all the other bling bits that seem to go with a bike and which never seem to get a mention in those articles about how you can start in tri by borrowing a friends spare bike. Saddle bag, multitool, profile design bar-mounted bottle (I poked my left eye out the first time I tried to get aero), CO2 pumps, track pump, etc. I love buying bits and pieces because I’m an Olympic level shopper and we all love to participate at what we’re good at. The guys in Cyclesuperstore were great about servicing the bike … they were probably looking forward to having to replace the wheels when they cracked and recognised an easy mark for Clydesdale wheels.
I got to enjoy the bike very much although I only got to do about half the training I was scheduled to do on it due to time and bum restrictions. Yes, balancing 20 stone on your sit bones on a lollypop stick can really hurt.
I got a bike fitting from Peter Kern in late May and can highly recommend his services. I thought he would be done with me in half and hour but he spent a solid two and a half hours with me getting the setup right and even looking at some biomechanics. I know it’s his job but I was very impressed that he would spend that time with someone like me who he may never see again. The bike fitting worked and my times improved by over 10%. My best 20 kilometre time trial was about 38 minutes in late June (although I never saw that time again unfortunately).
Of the three disciplines, I knew my bike was probably going to be okay and I didn’t devote as much time to it as I should. I still don’t feel able to get out of the saddle given my centre of gravity but I feel very aware of the kinks in my pedalling thanks to a session in the Phoenix Park with Peter. My relatively poor amount of bike training continued right up to the race and in the ten days before the race I did a grand total of 60 minutes biking. Pathetic and I knew it.
Running
What can I say about running at my size. I like to categorise my running style as somewhere between an aggressive trot and a prolonged stagger. It feels to me when I’m on a treadmill that I’m really shifting it and then I see the granny next to me going 5kph faster as she talks to her friend before she really puts the hammer down.
I got realistic on the running real quick. My first trot lasted two minutes before my personal trainer realised that Ben Dunne hasn’t paid for a portable defibrillator and there aren’t enough male staff on duty to carry me to an ambulance.
Sometime in March I managed to do a kilometre run/walk it 9:49. It suddenly seemed quite difficult to go 1:30 for TriAthlone when the run was likely to take me over fifty minutes. I hunkered down and put in the kilometres (slowly). In the end, I managed to do a measured kilometre in 6:00 dead (and I do mean dead) and while that was a huge improvement, I was shattered afterwards. I settled in my mind that I was going to aim for a forty minute run and, if I could get any faster well great. For those of you who can run fast, it’s a great gift and one which I intend to rediscover but more of that anon.
The Race
Having registered on the day before the race I stayed in the Radisson that evening but didn’t get much sleep. I think about three hours. Boy was I tired when I woke up.
Anyway, my brother and sister had come down to cheer me on as my wife undertook the slightly more important task of minding the brood at home. I think she thought it might have upset them to see their father in a state of collapse (and that’s only after struggling into the wetsuit). My sister did the needful and strapped me into neoprene and off we went to rack bicycles and other things that us triathletes do.
When I actually got to transition I got a really nasty shock as I saw the distances that had to be covered from swim to bike and bike to run. Having allowed 3 minutes for each of T1 and T2 I realised my planned 1:30 was going even further awry. Anyway, too late now.
Getting into the river wasn’t as difficult on race day mostly due to the fact that there were two hundred others trying to get in at the same time and any refusal at the edge would have resulted in me being trampled. Having watched previous footage of the race in my Olympic-standard pre-race research, my plan was to stay well back from the front and wait until everyone else had gone before starting out. However, the shape of the swim start had changed and there was no opportunity to be “at the back”. If I hadn’t slightly panicked I would have let everyone else start and simply waited thirty seconds but that thought never seemed to enter my head. Instead the gun went and off I went like a headless chicken.
I can only describe the swim as a cross between getting caught up in a WWE Battle Royal and being caught up in a washing machine. The water which had been so smooth in the swim practice became churned up and I seemed to be getting kicked in the head and boxed left and right. The scariest part was people grabbing my legs (first for everything as my wife points out). Anyway, the downstream bit wasn’t too bad but the turn and the upstream bit were the scariest moments of my adult life. I am convinced if I wasn’t doing it for charity I would have pulled to the side and quit. Twice I actually felt I was in serious trouble and I doubt if I could have swum another fifty yards upstream.
When I got to the pontoon I literally had no energy left. The guy on the pontoon quickly realised he wasn’t going to get me out on his own and that I couldn’t help myself. He called the second guy and they pulled me from the water like a beached walrus. I hadn’t the energy to even get on my hands and knees for a few seconds. Then I tried to crawl away from the exit but the guy said I couldn’t crawl. I had to stand, which took a huge effort. I staggered down the pontoon fighting off the Johns Ambulance guys on the way. All I knew was that I was now, barring mechanical breakdown or indeed just breakdown, going to complete the race and also that there was no way I was going to run to transition.
Although I actually exited the swim in 15:25, I realised that a fast time was no longer on the cards and a bit of the competitive streak in me fizzled out. I ambled to the bike and took my time changing. I think my total transition time for the race was about thirty minutes!
Having survived the swim, the bike went reasonably okay (although about ten minutes slower than I would have liked). I think the outward journey was mostly uphill while the inward journey didn’t seem to be all downhill. How does that work. Anyway, I decided to try to stick with the old guy on the pushbike with panniers and the acquisition of so much aerodynamic equipment meant I could almost do this. Money well spent I thought, before I realised he was only out for the weekly groceries and subsequently turned off the route (the last bit isn’t true but might as well have been).
I got off the bike trying to figure out how people could run on broken tarmac in bare feet. I tottered to T2 in my bike shoes and changed into running gear, now knowing that I was going to finish and looking forward to the running being over.
The run took me forty minutes and the up and down route was actually quite different from running on an indoor treadmill. Funny that. A run-walk-run-stagger--limp strategy helped me over the line and the support along the route was absolutely incredible. I know this often gets talked about but I was genuinely surprised how generous and encouraging spectators and other competitors were. I was very touched when a guy who had been shouting me on during the run stopped me on the way back to transition to congratulate me on finishing.
I knew the time wasn’t fast at the time of finishing but I was still happy to finish. I was also happy thinking that my first stop after the event was Supermacs in Moate. Yum Yum.
The Aftermath
Race reports usually stop after the race (in fact I’m sure they don’t go on as long as this in any case). But seeing as I wanted this note to serve as, sort of, my introduction to other members of the club, I thought I would let you in on my motivation for joining Piranha.
I finally got my time sometime on the Tuesday after the race and I can’t explain how bitterly disappointed I was with my eventual result of 2:20. Even though it included over 30 minutes of transition times I was really pissed off at my poor performance, a mood which continued for about two weeks during which time I did nothing constructive on training or diet.
Then I got mad at myself ……. and now I’m getting even. I signed up for Ironman Switzerland in 2009. That’ll teach me to be slow.
I need to lose another six stone before the race as well as put in the miles and I hope to join some of the beginners sessions over the winter, once I can get up to beginners level. Just look out for the slow fat bloke and if you see any doughnuts ….. confiscate them.
PiranhaTri
http://www.piranhatri.com/article.php/20080826215222730