Amstel Gold sportive 2017

Amstel Gold sportive 

15 April 2017 

150km and 1,600m of climbing 

15,000 particpants 

Back from the Amstel, I survived, Kevin thrived. He was something else.

 Saturday didn't dawn well as gloomy early morning light was dappled with sporadic raindrops on the windows. The so-called Amstel Gold breakfast was inadequate, I doubt if it would have fortified a doggy for sitting in a window, let alone a body facing 7 hours or more on the saddle. We collected rented bikes from a warehouse and pedaled down to register. With all of that done, we rolled out at 9:30 in chilly, misty conditions.

The severity of the challenge became apparent as heavier showers punctuated the mist. With many parts of the route trailing through open upland meadows there was no shelter from a sometimes gusting but always present wind. The first foodstop came after 49 km, it was in a field that wouldn't look out of place in the ploughing championships. It was a low point as we stood around shivering while Redmond Burke fixed his second puncture. We literally had to get going before the cold paralysed is but some 30 mins later Redmond was fixing his third puncture. He eventually resolved the puncture trilogy and after we had completed two really good, even climbs we all met up again at the point where the borders of the Netherlands, Germany and Belgium meet. This social occasion included coffee, chips and Paul Quinlan warming his feet while trying to dry his socks at a very swanky open fire.

At that stage, with 82 km completed and a descent ahead I was feeling more optimistic. Little did I know that the sight of heaven and the finish was to require a further purgatory as short, jagged climbs with average gradient of 8% and ramps of double that signposted the closing 50 km. Kevin didn't put a foot down while I cracked and crumbled on three of them. In truth only one was a source of later reproach as I just can't do beyond 10%. Meanwhile Kevin crowned his day by passing multitudes in the Keutenberg, (the steepest hill in the Netherlands, average of 11% which begins with 22%.

We eventually came down into Valkenburg and swung left on to the iconic Cauberg hill, one last km at 7% with 12% shortly after it commenced. I was out on my feet but stayed in the saddle and ground it out. The last 1800m of flat was pure relief and a place that seemed so far away for so much of the day. After a quick beer we solved a transport issue by having some of us cycle back to Maastricht. I didn't care, it was a level road, one of the few I had been on that day.

Athlone Flatline Half marathon 2016

The last two years I have gone with the 1.45 pacer and lasted half way through the bog, to about the 9 or 10k mark, keeping the pacing balloon within sight. But the last half and especially the last quarter I have slowed and suffered. Those year's I had a modest 240k training done in the preceding 3 months but this year I had done just 160k, 70% or previous, but I was hoping having gone to the gym twice a week since November - for the first tine in my life - would stand to me!

There I was at the start and I met a lad I was planning on seeing but had not arranged, another Tom C, right by the 1.50 balloon. Tom was going out with them and see how he got on, ideal, the gun went and I set off, after a little bit I noticed Tom a stride ahead and I joined him. We got around some runners and into open space, I spotted the pace balloon ahead, grand. The Endomondo lady on my phone said 5.04kph for the first k and then 4.45kph for the 2nd, why were they going so fast? Checking the app as I write -which I have used to track my running for all my half marathon training the last few years - I set a PB for 3 miles at 23min 24 sec. Not my plan! The ks continued at just over 5min\k pace and at about 7k I asked someone why the 1.50 pacers were going so hard, I was told it was the 1.45! Bollocks - game plan out the window.

Of course, I felt pretty decent and started dreaming of breaking the 1.45 and surely 1.50 was in the bag to give me a PB. I got to 10k just over 50min, not too far off my 10k best made in my only running of that as a singular event. I was still 3 telephone poles off the 1.45 pacing balloon. Looking at Endomono afterwards, I did a PB for 1 hour - 11.88k. Coming out on the main road was at 13k and then there was a slight downhill for 2k before tucking back into the bog road. I targeted the road, but the pace was dropping down to 5.17kph at 12 - I can recover this. I hit the main road and where are the family, who've always been at the finish line the previous 2 years and I never saw them cause I was too far gone. This time, they are viewing from here and the finish. Looks like they've stationed themselves well up the road. 14k. 5.20kph. Where are they? I wave in the distance at the wrong group.  Ahh, there they are! Great, cheers, nice buzz. "Jimmy is winning" I hear Cadhla fade in the distance. Memories of doing the Athlone Olympic tri 5 years before when it still ran and cycling this road at 30kph with Malie having made a poster and out at the top of our old estate. But that is only a memory as I write, as I run I am not able to think of anything.

Almost immediately after I pass them I feel myself dropping and slowly punters pass. They pass in the car on the way to the finish line and I am helpless. I tuck back into the bog. At this point last year I had a stitch, this year I chugged 600ml 2.5 hours before the race, 150ml 25 min before, 70-100ml (1 gulp is about 30ml) at the water stops at 3m, 6m and 10+m. I felt different, I knew I was stronger this time. But damn, I could not run faster, 16k, 5.33. 5k left and I just can't run faster, I want to stop. This is so bloody hard, why am I doing this? Never do this again. People are stopping and walking. I want to stop too. Whatever you do, don't stop lad. 18k, 5.59kph, I've felt myself go backwards, punters have been passing me and it's continuing. The road turns back in from the bog, will it ever end, 20k, 6.11kph. Last turn home straight, keep an eye out for the family, this time, Gawd damn it. There's Malie, there they are, awesome. She has her hand out, she wants to finish with me, great, I put my hand out but don't turn and make sure she grabs it and the moment is gone. 50m, I can sprint this, go, take 3 lads, just at the line I break it with some lad. I turn and it's Tom C, I have pipped him at the line, he shakes my hand.

Meters passed the line I sit down and don't move for 20min I think. Laura passes over the chocolate milk, I take the one for Tom C as well, where is he, I wonder when he'll come in, I must go down to the runner's exit and look for him. Can you find me a blanket, the shivers kick in, Laura has one brought from home, the ambulance lads's unwrapped this other one. Tony can you get me another cup of coke. I get up what seems like 20min later and am unsteady.

Eventually, I bump into Tom C, I've stashed his milk in Christine's bag after having it under my blanket all that time. He reminds me I pipped him on the line, I had blanked that. Tom C had won the M60 last year and beat his time by 7 or 8 minutes this year but a Trim AC runner came in at 1.39 and a Ballina AC runner at 1.41, leaving his title in tatters but he still had a podium finish! The results were posted on the fence, we finished 404 and 405th, me 1sec ahead in 1.53.48. Check out my "sic sprint" to finish (barely moving): 

So a couple of minutes slower than last year. I have realised that there are no shortcuts in this game to the long road miles. Also, next time I'm going with the 1.50s pacer mos def! I also discovered a recovery secret - a 45min power nap in the afternoon :-)

It was the 5th running of the flatline, a brilliantly organised and run event which takes a lof of effort from the committee.

Openwater Swimming: Great Fjord Swim & Coumshingaun

It has been such a busy year between building our house and lecturing in the college that I did virtually no swimming training at all. Over the summer I managed 4 or 5 sea swims and that was it. Unlike the previous few years though I did not bother with the wet suit on those swims, enjoying that sweet spot after the initial shock is over and you acclimatise and getting out before the cold had time to kick in, maybe after 20 minutes.

I did my second half marathon in September, Athlone's Flatline, and on the Monday after I went for a lunchtime swim to give the body a stretch. It felt really good and I went back on Thursday for a proper 1k session. I was loving it and got in touch with one of my swimming mates who told me they had been going out to the lake all summer and were still going out. I joined them the following lunchtime giving my wet suit it's season debut.

I joined them again the next Wednesday and was buzzing from it now. The lake was a 8 minute drive and we were in the water 40 minutes at the most. I had been aware of the Great fjord swim the last few years and was aware it had gone back to the format of diving off a boat and swimming in rather than the lap format of last year. McG then mailed and said did I know about it and that was the spur. I said it to the 2 lads I was training with and they were both keen, one of them having done it before.

Lunchtime training in Lough Ree for Great Fjord Swim 2015

I had done the Coosan Aquaton the previous summer but prior to that my last open water race was the Dingle Olympic triathlon 2 years ago. I had been scared before that race and got bitten by a jellyfish swimming but felt that I had broken through and could survive out there. But I never went on to cement that. It was 2 weeks to the race so I just kept going at lunchtime. My goal was to get over any residual doubts of being afraid in open water.

I read or rather listened to my first audio book while training for the half marathon, The Rise of Superman which is a brilliant book about flow. On the Thursday session, 9 days before the fjord, I experienced flow swimming and I'm not sure I did again - though the race itself was close to getting there. The body was just moving, going though the routine and I was not thinking about it, a wonderful feeling I am struggling to articulate.

The fjord race was a dream event, the most fun event I've ever done! Because of an accident in a triathlon in England this summer were a swimmer went missing the great fjord swim were making tow buoys compulsory. We got the ferry out 2km up the fjord from the sleepzone hostel and jumped off the back of it.

The course had buoys every 100m and a bonfire on the beach we were swimming too but I saw maybe 3 or 4 buoys and never saw the fire smoke :-( What I did see were other tow floats and they kept me on course, so we guided each other really. I finished in 0:52:24 and was very happy, especially when I went into the exit tent and got some hot soup. I was surprised and delighted when McG told me on top of Diamond Hill the next day, after a hike in to die for conditions, that I came 38th, which was actually in the top 25%. After so little, though intensive training, I was chuffed.

4 weeks later I had a weekend trip to Waterford planned and when a Coumshingaun hike was raised, it was clear to me that this was a not to be missed chance to swim there! The last time I visited this most special corrie was to climb on one of the routes there in September 2009, previous times were invariable family trips with our first born before we moved away from Waterford.

Jumping off the boat in Killary I had no nerves just a desire to swim and even after reading the lone swimmer's blog post which starts off saying "My days of being an open water swimmer are over.", I was well up for the coum swim. I swam right into the back of it moving from the south west edge over towards the back. Knowing the rest of the group would be getting cold waiting I didn't go into the back corner - next time - but turned and swam back down the middle of the loch. I didn't see even one fish - it has some even though no rivers feed it. It's 800m long and I guestimate I did about 1300m. My feet were cold, hands just a little, but there was no thawing involved. I've been a lot colder after getting out of the water after a quick in and out on Christmas\New year's day.

Swimming lessons 2010-2013

In many places I have lived over the years I have looked for adult swimming lessons and was frustratingly never able to find them. I had it in my head that I wanted to learn to flip turn.

When we moved to Athlone in 2010 we discovered it was hosting the 2010 European Triathlon Championship 6 weeks after we came to town :-) Watching 2009 world & 2012 Olympic Champion, Alistair Brownlee win over the now current and three time world champion Javier Gomez was fantastic. Seeing regular people taking part was an inspiration for me to train and compete on the same course the following year.

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Discovering the Athlone Regional Sport Centre and it's instructors has been one of the best things about living in Athlone. I have done their advanced lane swimming classes which runs in 7 Thursday night blocks 5 times, twice in 10/11 in preparation for my first tri and 3 times in 12/13 while training for my second.

On my first night in 2010 I told the instructor Dave I wanted to learn the flip turn. He said there were a few things to learn first! I still can't flip turn! I had read some of the total immersion book, borrowed from my brother, over the previous decade while self-learning freestyle. I had used the book principally for learning alternate side breathing and had not dived into the rest of the book in detail. It had not yet sunk in how technical a sport swimming is.

In advance of competing in the 2013 Brian Boru tri I went over my swimming lessons notes.

The personal feedback I got from the 2010/11 sessions was:

• Breathing too rigid: body must turn as well as head to breath, head should stay completely still, only break over water enough to just catch a breath.
• Relax the shoulders
• Entry
  • My left arm goes right over and enters the water outside my shoulder on the right, it should enter in-line with my shoulder.
  • Can see bubbles when I swim as air passing through fingers, keep fingers tight.
  • After 10 lengths, throwing my arms, which twist my legs, keep elbows high.
  • after entry catch water and push back when extending hand back to hip.
• Legs
  • My legs are sinking & cycling in the water, straighten them and keep my knees down.
  • Feet are straight so the block water, be long in the water.

From the 2012/2013 sessions:

• Breathing: I am over-inhaling, so I am working too hard to compensate. I am gasping each time, breathe should be normal, if you breath too hard it tells your body it should be "panicking" as well.
• Entry
  • Keep fingers closed, together, be a spoon not a fork and knife.
  • Hand is entering too late, I should not stretch my hand at the top of the water before entry. I am entering close to wrist, it should be entering between wrist and elbow of opposite hand. As a result my body is not as streamlined through water. I should enter at right angles and then glide under the surface longer. After entry, the hand should extend about 10cm under water (find a point between the malleable top water and the deeper stuff), before stretching.
  • My left arm is pulling across and not doing a complete stroke. Imagine a centre line going through body and don't let hand/arm cross that.
• Strokecount
  • I am only doing half strokes, I should extend my hands and then brush my hip when I pull back.
  • Normal stroke is one hand following the other but my cadence is too fast. The out of water stroke should be slower (no resistance) as it's slower under water.
  • I am not extending enough in the water, I am moving my arms too fast.

My ongoing issues I need to work on are:

Leg sinking

I have a big problem with my legs sink and I have not been able to improve that yet. The ideal is the ankles breaking surface and with some splashing.

Entry

I am still struggling with my entry, I know I am going in too later and I struggle going in earlier.

Strokecount

My stroke count for 25m still is generally 30-32. The best I have managed is 29. This is way too much and means I am wasting energy. I should be able to reduce this to 24 with improved technique. Swimmers with excellent technique would do perhaps 18 strokes per 25m.

Breathing

I have breathing issues and mentally struggle keeping my head under water. Recently I read the Inner Games of Tennis, first written in 1975 it talks about switching off the thinking brain (self 2) and letting the body (self 1) uses it's memory muscles. It worked on switching off my brain to get through the Brian Boru mentally but in the long run this is no good for improving technique.

Back to reading the classic Total Immersion book and more lessons for me.

Powerscourt WAR 2012 (Part 4)

The route to the finish brought us past Ballinastoe (MTB park) and opened out to gorgeous vistas of Djouce and the Wicklow mountains on the left. It was more like a time-trial now, although with long straight roads you could still see people stretched out far ahead. Reeling them in was slow going but I did pass a few before the final 2k climb into the estate and up to the finish line.I do like a good climb, so I managed to overtake a dozen more in the final haul, including the tri-guy who'd passed me earlier. Tri-bikes really aren't made for climbing.

Around the final corner and very chuffed to see Richenda, Ruby and Aster there cheering me on. Turns out they had just arrived, and I was literally the first person they'd seen cross the finishing line. Timing!

One final sting in the tail, as I was half-jokingly accused of cheating - my finishing printout showed that I'd missed the tag point at the start of the Sugar Loaf run. "Have you been a naughty boy then?" was how it was put. It was all fine in the end, I just had to describe the location, and they took me at my word - just one of those things, but my brain was a bit like scrambled egg at this stage, and it wasn't quite the finish I had in mind with Richenda and the girls standing there beside me.

It was a scorching afternoon, and as hunger kicked in we relaxed in the sun while I savaged the sandwiches, coffee and fruit on offer. From there we wandered over to Powerscourt Gardens for the rest of the afternoon, sharing it with hordes of tourists. It really is a stunning location though. And to cap it off, we had an early dinner al fresco in the café. Including dessert. I felt I earned it.

Next day I found out I'd finished 21st of the 228 who'd entered the Sport. My goal had been to finish in the top 10%, and this was the first time I'd ever come so high (in relative terms). Only one girl finished ahead of me, so maybe next year's goal is to go one better.

April 2013 for the Glendalough WAR - surely enough notice for ye, who's up for it?

Powerscourt WAR 2012 (Part 3)

The chase was on. While the others had a leisurely (and safe) descent to start the race, I was going like the clappers from the off, but soon decided better to take it handy or the race would really be over before it began. Out of the estate and onto the main road, the route settled into a slow, steady climb towards the mountains. My kind of road. Soon I was passing backmarkers - these lads looked like they were going to be out for the day. Sunday drivers.

Not knowing exactly how many were in my wave, I still thought it would be good incentive to count those I passed. Knocking them off fairly quickly, 10, 20, 30... over 50 by the time I reached the foot of the Sugarloaf for the first transition. Off the bike, and a fairly flat road run to start. Grabbing some food on the hoof - energy bar, wine gums and a gel. Yum.

The lane became a boggy field, and the race was really starting now. Not passing others so frequently anymore, maybe another 10 - 15 or so before the very steep and rocky scramble to the summit. One guy passed me here, he seemed to be a descent hill-runner, so I tried to stay with him. I would end up catching him at the start of the kayak leg. Trying to run each step, but it was really hard in parts, everyone was walking the last part - must be 40-50 degrees, it's a fairly savage mountain for its modest height (501m). Clocked in on top, and then straight down, giving myself a few seconds to take in the views - it was a stunning day, and I was really hot now (wondering if I should have worn short sleeves).

Careful now coming down the rocky part - even using hands at times, and wondering if the bike helmet would have been useful here! Finally back to softer ground underfoot, and able to ramp up a bit. I was soon back on the bike, somewhere less than 45 minutes for the run, happy enough. The next leg to Roundwood was pretty uneventful - 9k, very flat and straight, and able to get into the high gears. One lad passed me here, he was on a tri-bike and fairly moving.

Arrived at Vartry lakes to find the hill-runner I'd seen earlier already sitting in a kayak, so I was able to just jump in the back and we were off with no fuss. Tom from Kilkenny was an Army man, training for a 4 week climbing trip to the Himalayas next month. Very sound fellow, a good chat all the way around, and enjoying the relative tranquility of this part of the race.

We were finished in about 15 minutes, even passed a few others, and then back on the bike for the 15k bike leg to the finish. I passed Tom and pulled away - he'd mentioned he only started bike training a few weeks before. It was head down now, but there was plenty of up and down in the remaining miles, and also traffic to watch out for. The hard work was done and it was a good feeling to know that the finishing line was now within reach.

Powerscourt WAR 2012 (Part 2)

With about 400 taking part - and over half of those in the (easy) Sport event which I'd entered - the entrants were split into four starting 'waves' at half-hour intervals. I was in the final 1pm wave. Having signed in the night before, and confirmed the time again on race day, I thought it'd be interesting to watch the 12:30 group going out, so I positioned myself at the start line for the final race briefing. The first couple of kms were on the bike, downhill and behind a jeep which would pace the riders and then pull away for the race to officially begin.

For some reason the start time went well beyond 12:30 so there was lots of waiting around before they finally headed off. As soon as they were gone, one of the race organisers wandered over to ask me was I not racing? The race number pinned to my top must have been a clue for him.

Turns out the 12:30 and 1pm waves had been merged into a single 12:45 start, and somehow no-one bothered to tell me. The guy who'd approached me obviously saw the panic in my reaction, and told me not to worry, to take my time getting ready and they'd give me 5 minutes extra on my time.

Problem was I hadn't warmed up, or stretched, and by now had a very full bladder. I ran back to the bike racks around the corner - mine was now the only one there! I had to empty my bladder there and then - the shame - and then final packing, helmet on, up on the bike, and off down the hill to chase.

The chase is on...

Not quite the start I'd planned, but the adrenaline was fairly pumping now. I was the last of 400 people out on the course, and f*cked if I was going to finish in that position.

Powerscourt WAR 2012 (Part 1)

This is the third year of the Wicklow Adventure Race. Having ticked off the Glendalough (twice) and Glenmalure editions, I was keen to try out the newest Powerscourt course.

Like the others, it involved road-bike, kayak and mountain-run sections. The race would start in the Powerscourt Estate just outside Enniskerry, with a run up and down the very steep and rocky Sugar Loaf, a 2k kayak on Vartry reservoir, and about 35k of biking to join it all up. I hadn't run as much as a mile since my last WAR in April 2011. Training followed much the same routine as before: four flat runs of 8/9k, ramping up to four hill runs of about the same distance. The final training run up Fairy Castle and Three Rock was on the Monday before the race, and I was a bit ahead of last year on the splits. I didn't do any extra miles on the bike, but instead turned the normal midweek (evening) and weekend spins into faster training rides.

I awoke on the day with normal pre-race nervous anticipation. The bike was checked - spare tube, pump, drinks, powerbar taped to the crossbar - and the morning was spent hydrating, loading up on carbs and basically pacing around the house annoying everyone. Richenda and the girls were planning to cheer me on at the finish.

Race start was 1pm and I was there an hour beforehand to make sure there were no last-minute glitches. The weather was perfect, clear and not too warm, with no wind.

What could possibly go wrong...?

Glendalough Revisited

The Glendalough WAR course: 9km Spink run around the Upper Lake (575m. ascent); 15km bike ride on the road, to Lough Dan (165m. ascent); a short run to the lake followed by a 2km kayak, then back on the bike to reverse the previous leg. Slight course change was a shortened return bike leg and an extra 3.5km run from Laragh back to Glendalough. Easy. Right?

The buildup: This time I focussed on the running, and started out about 8 weeks ago. Working up to running up 3 Rock/Fairy Castle 4 or 5 times on a course comparable to the race run. Virtually no bike training, just the odd detour up the hills on the commute home, and one trip up Kippure (route here) for a nice climb the week before. No kayak training whatsoever. I drove down in Wanda the night before and parked up in the Glendalough carpark, saving a few hours kip in the morning. Every little helps.

The usual high carb nosh-up the next morning. Jelly babies for breakfast with no guilt. Weather was perfect: fine, a some cloud, not too warm and not a breath of wind.

The run: Pre-race nervous anticipation, and unfortunately no-one to share the build-up with - all 3 FINEOS mates had bailed out during the week :(. I watched the big guns return from the Spink run in about 45 minutes, how do they do it? With no-one in particular to race against, I had a few strategies to beat last year's time and make it interesting. First of these was to get into the lead group in the run, and avoid the traffic jams when the race hits the narrow steps up Spink. 9:15am was race start, there were about 170 in my 'wave' and I was one of the first off. Some people were walking minutes later - long day ahead for them. Stepped it out, steady does it. In the top 5-6 up the top of the first set of steps, a huge group snaking back. Flat now for a bit, then more climbing. This second climb was fairly hellish, trying to take in the views to distract (see pic below, just putting on a brave face for the photographer!). The descent is extremely tricky, and was passed by a few 'mountain goats' here, but managed to stay on my feet. Naively thought I'd have legs to catch them on the flat, but even the miner's track back to the start was a slog. I somehow managed to trip and skin my knee on the easiest part of the run - no pain (feeling it now though).

Clocked in 58:20 (was 1:02:39). V. chuffed to beat the hour. Estimated I was in the top 15 in my group.

I also knew I could save minutes on the transition - I was literally one of the slowest last year, faffing around with change of shoes, food, drink. Amateur!

Transition 1:27 (was 3:33).

The bike: Sped off through Laragh and on towards Roundwood. Powerbar on board - another race tactic, it was attached to the crossbar with masking tape, worked a treat. My race drink was homemade - orange barley, water, sea salt and sugar. Powerade my hole. But would it keep the cramp away later? Picking off others now with ease (I think they were in the group who left 15 mins before) and in turn passed by one or two others before I reached Lough Dan.

Bike leg 40:03 (was 38:13, but this year we had to run 400m before clocking in).

Kayak: Nothing like a cold, wet arse to put manners on you. Hooked up with another lad who arrived at the lake at the same time. He took charge, sat behind and got us around double-quick time. No drama, but could feel inner thigh muscles starting to twitch - memories of last year.

Kayak leg 14:54 (was 23:09).

Took the time to take on fluids and do some leg stretches knowing the bike climb to come - I cramped on this last year. Flew up this time, happy days. Raced back to Laragh with 2 other lads, we must have passed each other 10 times!

Bike leg 30:29 (was 35:11, but 3km shorter than last year).

Final run:

Transition to the run was less than a minute. Then the sting in the tail. 3.5km, but winding and undulating. Managed to pass 2 more lads as I slogged along. VERY happy to reach the finish line. Even happier I wasn't doing the longer race. Some lads who'd started 1:15 before me and done the full WAR passed me on that final run. Mindboggling stuff.

Final run 18:26.

Full course 2:44:29. I did it in 2:42:43 last year, but that extra run versus bike translates to about 12 minutes quicker, so obviously very chuffed with that. Figured I was in the top 15-20 of my group of 170 (I subsequently discovered I was 12th in the intermediates), but there was another 'wave' who started later - I guess these were the experts, as my final placing was 44 of around 280. Interestingly, while only 200 did the short race last year and 500 did the full one - this year, more did the short course and the standard was seriously higher. The winning time was even faster than Andy's winning time last year, despite the extra leg. Other useless stat: finished 6/38 in the over 40's. And more importantly, only beaten by two women (I know, two too many).

Glenmalure Lungbuster

Glenmalure WAR - 25th Sept 2010.

The 2nd Wicklow Adventure Race: 10km mountain run; 22km road bike; ?? obstacle course (kayak leg cancelled).

Ready (?)

Glenmalure is the next valley south from Glendalough, but a world away. This is the real heart of Wicklow away from the tourist hoards. It is also the gateway to Lugnaquilla, the highest mountain in Ireland outside Kerry.

The Glendalough WAR would be hard to top, but the omens were good - another spectacular day dawned after an atrocious week of weather. Andy had decided to enter the longer race this time - therefore an earlier start - having won the 'easy one' last time. I was sticking to my comfort zone. I saw him finish his run as I was getting ready - looked like 50 minutes was a good time to aim for. An hour later I was off and running with 180 others, fueled up with bananas, porridge, jelly babies, energy bars and gels.

Run profile

As always, the elevation not the distance is the key statistic and this run was relentless - straight up from the off, a 310m climb to 475m - it started steep and just got steeper. We were soon strung out all over the mountain, like the sheep who looked on with bewilderment. It was a real lungbuster but I dug in and reckoned I was in the top 25 - 3o over the summit. No break even on the downhill, had to keep the concentration and focus on those ahead. Back to transition at 55 mins, v. happy to break the hour. Change of shoes, helmet on, another gel & some water on board and I was up on the bike.

Bike profile

Although this was a road stage, there was a gravelly off-road section too, so my cyclo-cross bike was perfect for this leg. There were plenty competing on mountain bikes who would find the climbing tough, while the road bikes wouldn't be able for the gravel. To quote the race website "this cycle stage will bring you over one of the most iconic climbs in Ireland: the Shay Elliott Climb". To find out more about Shay Elliott, the first irishman to wear the Tour De France yellow jersey click here - worth a read.

Recovering from the run I started to pick off a few front-runners, including the lad who'd set the course the night before - I suppose he was knackered. I was feeling pretty good and really going for it - lesson learned from the Glendalough race, and leaving nothing behind this time!

By the time I summitted, I'd passed maybe twelve riders or so. Taking time to absorb the fantastic views around, I settled in for the big descent back into the valley. I'd purposely left my bike computer at home, as I knew it would be a distraction - so I'll never know how fast I went here, but it was probably as quick as I've ever travelled on two wheels. What a buzz! Only a few kms. back to the finish area. But one more sting in the tail.

The obstacle course was a 'river run'. They'd mentioned at the race briefing that life-jackets were mandatory and they weren't joking. The river was a glacial-cold stream and chest deep. Straight in, heart nearly stopped and the whole body felt like it was going to cramp! Legged it the couple of hundred metres downstream, no way I was going to let anyone pass me now. Struggled out, and then just for good measure, four hay bale obstacles - and over the finish line.

Andy over the last hurdle

My time was 2:01 - far exceeding expectations, and really chuffed to finish 16th - my best finish in any race. I didn't have long to wait for Andy who came home 13th in the long race, beating 4 hours - fantastic effort. After the post-mortem and a spot of the laid-on lunch, Andy, Jill and Billie came back to ours for a curry n beers. A nice way to end a great day.

All smiles at the finish

Nothing like a day out in the mountains like this to make you appreciate a healthy pair of lungs - and while gasping for air on the climbs, I was comforted by the thought that the Cystic Fibrosis Association were going to benefit - MyCharity website here. €1,100 collected so far, and counting. Many thanks to all who've donated.

Over and out.

P.S. A few shots added from the race website...

The Lost Sheep Half Iron Triathlon 2010

September 11th 2010, Kenmare.

1900m swim, 83km cycle, 21km run.

A picture is worth a thousand words, so the story is told here :

Get the flash player here: http://www.adobe.com/flashplayer

http://www.flickr.com/photos/53733988@N06/sets/72157624821809221/

To add a few details, the day started nice and early with the alarm going off at 4:55 in the Kinsale Bay Hotel. Fellow entrant, roommate for the night, and sometime Sunday morning cycling buddy Redmond Burke was ready to go with his "HTFU Triathlon Club" T-Shirt. Slogan - "If your eyes aren't stinging, you can keep going" (or something like that). The pints had been flowing and the craic was good at the Fine Gael convention in the hotel, so Redmond didn't get much sleep listening to the hoors. I slept a bit better -ready to devour the porridge laid on by the hotel at 5 - really nice of them. The 30 or so triathletes who stayed over were all bleary eyed and tracksuit clad down in the restaurant, while the last of the bleary eyed Fine Gael crew stumbled their way to bed.

Down at transition zone in the pitch dark at 6 was a bit surreal, and the usual last minute job before a triathlon is of course a trip to the toilets, so, that too was bit surreal as the portaloos were pitch dark and smelly!

Anyhow, all last minute tweaking done, off on a walk to the pier to get this thing going. With impeccable timing, Redmond and I arrived at the start line just about last, and AFTER all the important announcements were finished. Probably some warning about tides....but we were to find that out for ourselves.....

The swim was commonly referred to afterwards by my fellow competitors as "brutal". The organisers changed the swim course twice in the last couple of days before the event, with some worry about tides.....turned out they were right to worry.

Theres a bridge over a narrow point in the bay in Kenmare, with a lough on one side and the open sea on the other. We had to swim under this into the lough, and by the time we were doing that, the tide was coming out. Seeing as the whole lough wanted to empty out under the narrow bridge, the current seems to get pretty strong. I didn't notice the problem really at first....I just kept on swimming towards the bridge and periodically thought the bridge should be a lot closer by now, but sure, it must be an illusion of some kind.

When under the bridge, I looked up, admired the brickwork, took 6 or 8 more strokes, looked up, nothing much had changed, 8 more strokes, looked up...now damn...theres definitely something wrong here! I decided a quick spurt was in order or I just might be here all day!

That worked grand and I swam away, not really aware of the time and enjoying the swim as the morning sunshine broke though.

I had expected a time of 40 min or less for the 1900m, but when I saw 54 mins on the clock when I got out I thought I must have been dire! All the bikes will be gone! No...plenty of bikes! Everyone else having just as much trouble. In fact there were a number of people fished out who couldnt get through the bridge at all!

Out of 300 entrants, my swim time was 66th, which I'm very very happy with!

22 didn't finish the swim. Bummer!...Conor Harty tells me he heard of some people getting outta Kinsale straight after the swim and not even bothering to collect the bike. Must've been annoyed!

In transition zone I took a leisurely 5 minutes to get through. I was kinda thinking, "its a long day, whats the rush?". Having dried between my toes and donned socks, shoes, gloves, jersey, stuffed with gels, bananas and a Turkish Delight, off I went.

The plan was to conserve energy for the run, so I took it easy on the bike. I hadn't done enough training for this event (who had?), so getting a final result of DNF (Did not Finish) was a real possibility. Losing patience with this strategy after 5 minutes on the bike, I took off past half a dozen slower riders, over some recently resurfaced (in best County Council manner) road. The back wheel went flat....drat! It took 11 minutes to get back on the road, so any remaining thoughts of overcooking the bike were forgottem....lets just finish this thing!

The bike route was superb. One smallish climb 200m before Laragh. The descent down this was brilliant and I went past lots of riders with my super aerodynamic riding position and my quality wheels....and my light usage of the brake levers! Good fun!

Then the Healy Pass. Approx 300m. Not really a tough climb, especially with fresh legs, but its got a nasty little kick right at the end. The descent is full of switchbacks, and the first or second of these nearly caught me out. that put manners on me - which was just as well, because there were about a dozen more to go and a couple of riders were squatting on the roadside looking forlorn. Hopefully only punctures, but I wouldnt rule out the odd spill.

Into Adrigoole, then back up the coast towards Glengariff. This road is wide and smooth and straight. After a long long drag, we started a descent where the bike just took off. Suddenly I was doing a land speed record on a bike of 73kph! Never went over 60 before! Fantastic! No feeling of danger either because of the quality and straightness of the road.

Tried to eat an energy bar after this but in my carefulness not to drop even the corner of the wrapper as litter, I dropped the whole thing! Thankfully, the previously mentioned Turkish Delight had also been stashed away - just in case - and well, this was the case! A water bottle was taken on at the water station in Glengariff, but no "sports" lid, so another delicate operation pouring from bottle into bidon - no accidents this time.

Then off up the other climb - the Caha pass. Same height as Healy,pass, but spread over 9km rather than 6, so no pain here either! Maybe a bit more pain would have helped my finishing time, but .... why?!?!?!

The tunnel at the top is a cool way to finish a climb, and the descent was alright. A lot of poor quality surfaces though on the lower slopes, so care had to be taken. The last few kms into Kenmare were slghtly downhill, but into a headwind, so not as easy as I had been looking forward to.

My bike time was 3:13, (219th) and considering the puncture, I'm pretty happy with that. Avg speed not counting the stop was just over 27kmph. Bike position was 219th, so no worry was caused to the front of the field by me!

Right, get rid of bike, helment, grab the 330ml Fruit Shoot bottle (blackcurrent) stolen from the kitchen cupboard and off we go. I took a High-5 Energy Gel at the start and at every water station (also 2 on the bike), and that seemed to do the job and never turned my stomach.

I had a good chat with Jason from Mayo for a good few kms, helped pass the time. I was feeling pretty good and eventually drifted off in front of him. The course was an out and back. I think I emptied the tank after about 8k. The turnaround point just seemed to take forever to get to. Thinking when I turned that my new pal Jason would be miles behind, him and about 6 others were right behind me! They didn't take long to go past me so I was slowing all the time!

I just kept thinking that I may never do this again, and I wasnt actually feeling all that bad, so you've just got to keep going. For some reason the deal with myself was that I wouldn't stop during the run, which I managed to do. However, I noticed a few people stopping...then I'd pass them, then they'd start again and go past me and turn eventually into a small dot in the distance. It struck me that maybe my tactic wasn't foolproof.

With the out and back course you get to see all the competitors at one stage or another. Nice (but depressing!) to see the leaders tearing down the last few km as I started the course. You appreciate what a different level these guys are on! When I was about half way back, a couple of guys approached and I thought these are the backmarkers....no!....2 fit guys went belting past on their warm down! Jeeez!

Anyway, I made it to the funish line eventually, and that was that!
Run time was 1:02 out and 1:05 back for 2:07 total which was a rank of 218.

Overall time of 6 hours, 21 minutes, 12 seconds to finish just off the podium in 182nd.

The winner Bryan Keane only needed 4:06:25, which was an amazing 23 minutes ahead of Eric Wolfe in 2nd place with 4:29:31.

Buddy Redmond is training for the marathon so a 21km run should be no sweat to him. Unfortunately, the gels and power bars he took on the bike went down very badly and his stomach was in bits for the run. He couldnt really "run" - but he did endure it and completed the course so fair play! He was in foul humour (by his standards!) at the end.

Not much left to do but return to the hotel for use of their health club - just what the tired and sore body needed!

A great day. Might never do it again, but at least I've done it once!

The Only Race in Town

The race: NPS (National Points Series) Round 7, organised by MAD (Mountainbiking Association of Dublin), on my home patch, Three Rock. Fast new trails were promised, expectations were high. However, the omens weren't good. A training spin two days before the race ended with a broken chain and my inability to find the course trails. It hadn't rained in four weeks, then bucketed down the night before and the morning of the race. Not good.

Malcolm (Richenda's older brother) and I headed up to Glencullen on Sunday morning to register and warm-up. This was the final round of the NPS, with overall positions at stake - but the only race in town was McG and Malcolm's head-to-head - he'd beaten me in both previous encounters, despite being a road-biker and only occasional MTB'er. But he was back on the rollies, out of shape and I had a good shot.

The broken chain on my hardtail meant I had to race my 'full-susser', aka The Beast - this machine was not built for speed, let alone to race. It weighs about 15 kgs and is quite possibly indestructible. In addition, I was having last minute 'issues' with my rear derailleur - too late to tamper with it in case I made things worse, balls. So I was to spend the entire race adjusting the cable tension on the gear lever as I rode, aware that another chain break was surely imminent if I put too much weight on.

High noon, and the race was off - we had entered the Sport category - 'only' 2 laps of a 6.2 km course - how hard could it be? The Elites were to later complete 5 laps - it's just another level. There were also Masters and Veterans categories. Depressingly, we are now officially Vets. Got off to an OK start, making good ground on the fire-road, climbing before dropping down a chute into the trees and some lovely singletrack to negotiate. In the next few minutes I would lose my bike computer (and 5 or 6 places finding it); crash on a tight bend - a spectacular 'endo', cracking shins, knees and shoulder, adrenaline pumping so I barely noticed; a short stop to adjust crooked saddle, post-crash. In all this time, Malcolm and I passed each other a number of times - this was going to be close.

Settling into a better groove now, and onto the big climb of the day, up to the Three Rock masts - just grinding it out, sun baking down, sweat pouring. Saw Malcolm sit down on the side of the track, assuming he had a 'mechanical'. He tells me he has crashed and burned. Surely winding me up? 'Eat my dust, dude'. From the top, a fantastic traverse on singletrack, getting steeper and a lovely drop back onto the fire-road - rockier now, white-knuckle. Back into the trees for a short loop to the start/finish line. Half-way.

The second lap was relatively uneventful - I finally found the legs, knew what was to come and started to actually enjoy the spin. But where was Malcolm? I knew he could catch me anytime so kept the pace up, no complacency here! On the final run-in now, some lad is right on my tail - WTF, is he trying to draught me on the steepest part of the circuit? Bloody kids. He clipped my handlebar sneaking down the inside, and I was on my arse again. Goddamn you! Only a couple of hundred metres to go, so I legged it after him. In the meantime, some other lad was gunning for me now - Malcolm? No. Onto the final drag, finish line in sight, he is all-out so it's a sprint finish with the crowd roaring - beat him by inches, oh joy. And that was it, race over, a great feeling.

I clocked 32 minutes or so per lap, for a 19th placing of maybe 50 entrants. The Elites would later be riding closer to 20 minute laps, and doing so five times. I should have placed higher really, and probably would have on my hardtail. I also wonder if I'd prefer a time-trial type event - these mass starts are just carnage, and it's almost impossible to overtake on singletrack for obvious reasons. XC is seriously tough - and I suspect I just don't have the balls-out mindset for this type of racing.

It turns out Malcolm had indeed 'bonked' on the first lap and was a DNF. This quote from the man himself surely proves ours is a rivalry of Nadal-Federer proportions: "Still sore over yesterday. I think it boils down to the fact that while I've been doing a reasonable amount of 65% efforts, I'd forgotten what 80%+ felt like and blew. So I'm slowly forgiving myself. But you rode well and can certainly count this as a pelt".

Less importantly, Joe McCall - who I mentioned in my previous Cyclo-Cross post - finished a close 2nd in the Elite race to wrap up the overall NPS prize. The winner on the day was Peter Buggle who I've met a few times up at the Blue Light. I would observe that he seems to like his Bulmers, and is 48 years old. Legend.

Ring of Kerry 2010

Got to Killarney after 7:00 pm on Friday and met up with the Tarrant clan aunt, uncle and cousins. James, the uncle, and Naomi, a cousin, were both signed up for the race. We toddled downtown to sign in and came back to assemble Naomi’s bike. She had just got a new one through the Bike to Work scheme. It will be fine for knocking around Dublin, but if I can remark that her bike lock seemed to weigh more than my bike, my heart sank for her there and then (She eventually finished at 7:15 on Saturday evening – all Steve Redgrave, but without the medas).

We three bikers went for a drink down town and watched Ghana throw it away. Kerry hospitality and gab meant that bed was a moving target. Poor enough night’s sleep despite being tired but woke to good, but very breezy weather.

Rolled out of the driveway at 8 o’clock and zeroed the clock at the Towers Hotel, we didn’t bother with the official start at the racecourse. We picked up James’ brother Billy at Fossa and pedalled on. I planned on taking it easy to Killorglin, but took it easier than planned to chat to Naomi. Passed a few tandems at that point but by then had already seen three unfortunates fixing punctures. I went off on my own from there and put the head down.

Coming out of Killorglin I wheelsucked a train of about 15 headed by the Oriel Cycling Club. The wind had picked up and was probably only 30 degrees off a full head wind. At this point the road rolls up and down quite a bit but it was all fairly relaxed at 27/28 kmh. Glenbeigh came sooner than expected and spectacular scenery followed. Out of Glenbeigh and feeling good I dragged upwards hugging the coast to Kells with great views of the Dingle peninsula. I had a good 20 minutes chatting to a work neighbour, but dropped him (Jaysus, you’d swear I was good at this cycling lark, stop laughing now) on the last 2km uphill before the gradual descent into Cahirciveen.

The full fury of the wind spoiled what should have been a blast into Cahirciveen. By now the scale of the event was becoming apparent as the road was clogged with cars being held up by bunches of riders that were hanging on for the first major break in the day. Speed was down to 10 to 12 kmh as I idled into the feed station with 66.5km done. Colaiste Na Scheilige was packed solid but a great break. I had thought about carrying on without stopping but I am glad I didn’t. Hunger knock would have ruined the rest of the day.

After food and water-bottle replenishment, things became more serious on the way to Waterville. I had my worst near miss ever on a steep down hill as a bottle fell off a bike in front of me and bounced just clear of my front wheel. Great crowd support in Waterville but Coomakista had me nervous. Map My Ride had been carefully studied so I knew where to pace myself for the 7 km of this climb. Scenery was staggeringly beautiful and there were plenty of glances over my right shoulder to admire Waterville Bay. The climb was dragged out rather than feeling steep, with great views of what lay ahead once I got around some of the corners. It was cool to see a procession of bright dots marking the road ahead, all moving steadily.

Coomakista topped out with 88km on the clock. I didn’t stop for the view and descended for the guts of 5km with most of it over 50 kmh. One of the best things about an event if this scale is that the roads are all but closed with plenty of scope to corner and maintain speed. A rattle had me worried and I spotted that the state of road had loosened a waterbottle holder so a quick stop was in order. After that it was a lumpy cruise to through Caherdaniel and Castlecove followed by one short, nasty dig at 7% which preceded a fast drop into Sneem with 115.4 km done

I didn’t eat much in Sneem, and with 60km or so to go, I was itching to get back on the bike. A lumpy ride of 27km to Kenmare started to sort out riders as the pace seemed to be dropping. By now many bodies were cramping onto bikes and some facial expressions seemed to be ushering in Halloween. I had a short break in Kenmare and chatted to a local who was putting his bike into a van. As a native, he had started in Kenmare at 6:15 so he was finished. He encouraged me that Moll’s Gap would be fine and that the distances were marked from 5km outwards.

Leaving for Moll’s Gap I had 142 km on the clock. I set off to Moll’s Gap with enthusiasm for the early part of it but it did get tougher. It is an easier climb than Woodcock Hill from the Moyross side but after 5.5 hr plus at that stage it was hard. Shortly after setting off I felt the early stages of a cramp in my left hamstring but I minded it for a few minutes and it faded away.

Like Coomakista, the road scales the side of a hill so there are great views of the progress of the climb. Unlike Coomakista, plenty of people were stopping to walk and get back on again. Naturally, this being Kerry, the cuter ones seemed to be feigning minor bike trouble or imaginary phone conversations to buy respectability. I went around the bend at the top of the Gap and stood on the pedals while a bus was waived off. After that it was helter skelter most of the way to Ladies View with one concerned motorcycle Garda waving at cyclists to slow down. Beyond Ladies View was the only bad part of the day as I was held up for ages behind a rented car that couldn’t find the courage to pass a slow cyclist ahead of it. Shamefully, I was at my xenophobic best on her back bumper.

I had tried not to set a target for the day, but 7 hrs of pedalling time was fixed in my mind. In Kenmare I felt it was on as I had 1 hr 22 mins left to do 33km. After Muckross I spotted the finish line and saw 6:59:20 on the clock.

I finished with 7:02 – that will bring me back for next year. In truth, I’ll be back anyway. It was a great day out and Kerry hospitality at its best. The organisation from marshalling, to food, to medical support was really top class.

I would like extend a big Thank You to Kevin McGrath, Redmond Burke and Declan O’Dalaigh who came along for some of the mad, long preparation rides in recent weeks. It can’t be easy to get up at 6:30 for 4 to 5 hrs in the saddle, when getting up an hour later for a saner distance would be an easier option. Cheer’s lads.

100km M3 Cycle

Three weeks ago at my cousin's wedding, my uncle Padraic insisted that I join him on the M3 cycle - 100k on the new, yet to be opened motorway through the heart of Meath. Used to cycle with him 20 years ago, when the whole country was in a Stephen Roche / Sean Kelly frenzy. Haven't been on a bike since, but it was a memorial race for my brother in law Paul Healion who won a stage in the Rás last year but died tragically in a car accident last August - so where do I sign?

http://www.irishtimes.com/newspaper/obituaries/2009/0822/1224253079404.html

Borrowed a bike from a tri-athlete friend who also sorted me with all essential gear - clip in shoes, padded shorts, jacket, leggings and even cycling socks.

Reasonably fit with Bootcamp over the past couple of months - but event specific training consisted of 20km on Tuesday - out the coast road but cramped on the way back 'cos the saddle was too high. Wednesday cycled through town and up to Blue Light to meet McG and the lads for a few pints. 40km wasn't ideal prep but all the experts are saying that I should be resting before the race anyway!



Incredible sight at the start line - over 1700 cyclists taking part - over 800 of those doing the 100km. Took the concious, informed decision to ditch my uncle (sorry Padraic!) - he was hanging back and cycling with some punters doing the shorter leisure and family cycles. No way, only hope I have is getting into a big group and doing as little works as possible. Stuck on the wheel of a friend for the first 10km, then he ditched me for a faster pace. Jumped into a group of 14 which was a mix of serious cyclists and punters in GAA gersets who were out for the day. Worked well at times, with the obvious exception of a Galway gersey who was like a wrecking ball in the group - swaying from side to side and varying his pace constantly. F$%king leisure cyclists!

Group from Dundrum CC got annoyed and hit the front - I jumped in behind while at the same time thinking that it might end in tears if I kept up their pace. Alternative? Sit in behind Mr. Galway - no way - go for it. Fantastic feeling - two abreast - draughting and taking turns at the front - feeling good. Loved this back in the day. Great banter and chat - enjoyed telling one girl that I started training on Tuesday - she nearly fell off the bike laughing.

Into the wind on the way out, so looking forward to turing around. 45k and still no sign of the leaders coming back on the other side of the motorway. Surely we can't be that close to them. 46, 47, wtf? They must be taking a different route back? Then they tear by - incredible speed. How are we so close? 49, 50k, no sign of anyone turning or the feed station at half way - 51, 52K this explains how we were so 'close' to the leaders. Nearing 53k and getting pissed off - every km we travel we have to travel back. Long, steep hill and the station at the top - f$%k.

Meet Padraic at the station and head back with him - jump in behind a group of 12 and we're flying - consistently over the 40km speed limit for construction traffic. Past Kells, Navan, Dunshaughlin and a puncture means we're down to a group of 4 - another and it's just 2 of us. I have to apologise that I can't stop to help for fear that I won't be able to start again!

Kms fly by and we see the finish line at the toll booth. Wave of emotion hits me - had been firmly concentrating on my time and wheel in front of me - but crossing the line I realise that it was irrelevant - it was all for Paul. Say 'G'luk' to my companion and cycle around on my own for a few minutes - picked up the certificate that would usually find the nearest bin - definitely not this time.

For the record, excluding the half way break my time was 3 hours 50 minutes - about 40 minutes faster than my target and a very credible 18 mph average. Now it's just to convince McG and Padraic that it's a once off and I won't be eating Dave's dirt on a mountain bike at Ticknock :-)