Pembrokeshire Triathlon 2000
This was my first big race, with open water and everything and I was looking forward to it with apprehension. There is a big difference between a pool swim in a University triathlon and a sea swim in a GP event. But it has to be said that I was less fearful of this than I was of my first race in Bath in May.
The Pembroke triathlon is held as part of the Fishguard and Goodwick festival of the sea. So there's lots of people around having a good time, stalls, food and genral festivity which really adds to the flavour of the event.
So anyway I get to the start of the race without incident and into the drink for a warm up splash around, make sure the goggles are sorted, get some water into the suit that sort of thing. All the elite wave were lined up ready to start at this stage so it was only us red hat age groupers left in the warm up area so the atmosphere was good. A bit of pre race jitters does wonders to sharpen the wit. Then the hooter goes and the elites are away, we leave the warm up and line up for the start.
Ok, now I'm nervous. Visions of hectic mass starts and churning arms and kicking feet fill my near novice brain. All those horror stories of getting swam over and beat-up in the starts fill my mind. I read too many RST posts I think. Just to be on the safe side I edge away from the breakwater and to the outside edge of the 'pack'. Then the hooter goes and we're off.
Everybody shoots off. Lots of splashing and stuff but not bad at all really. There are a couple of bumps at the start but short of stopping to apologies the people around me couldn't have been more polite.
Oh yeah I haven't mentioned before, but I'm a rubbish swimmer! But now I have my wetsuit on so I'm invisible, I mean invincible. I settle in, find my pace and after the initial starting rush relax into the swim.
Then I see it, a strange orange glow. One of the racers in my wave was wearing a rather high visibility wet suit with day glow orange and yellow panels, and he was swimming at my pace. Nice. That settled my pace issues for a while. I sat on Tango mans feet for most of the first half of the race and watched the racers we passed do a double take as we went by.
Wait a minute. I'm a crap swimmer, what am I doing passing people? We I can only imagine that some people went off too hard and were now having a bit of a blow out. Anyway for whatever reason the first half of the swim shot by and it was time to make our turn. Oops now things were getting a little trickier. I was now clear of the breakwater and there was a nice little chop on the water which made navigation interesting. Every time I put my head up to sight I would get a nice big splash of water in my face. I resorted to doing a couple of strokes of breaststroke every minute or so to get my bearings which worked really well, so don't neglect that breast stroke kids. At about the 1K mark my neck is beginning to get sore from chaffing ( subsequently fixed with jelly belly wet suit lube ) and I'm getting a bit tired and I really could do with not being in the swim anymore. Then the cruelest thing, from the barbecues on the breakwater wafts of delicious smells drift over the water to tempt me. It was like the sirens call drawing me onto the rocks. I was just dreaming of a big juicy steak when, as suddenly as it had started, the swim was done.
I get out of the water and walk up the slipway undoing my suit as I go. I had already learned that running while trying to undo my suit after half an hour in a prone position can lead to some very interesting variations on 'upright' . So I walk. But one of the spectators cant see the wisdom of this, he takes my walking as a sign of defeat and tries to encourage me with shouts of.. 'you can do it' and 'your nearly finished'. Yes I know I can do it, and I'm not nearly finished at all, in fact i've just started. Never mind eh! It was worth it to see his expression change as I sprinted off into transition as soon as I had negotiated my zip.
So. Transition. Getting that wetsuit off, big struggle and all that. Three words. Made to Measure. Whoosh! its off one quick fluid motion and you are out. Nice. Big shout for Snugg wetsuits. Then its on with the socks ( yeah I know, big softie ) and shoes, on with the lid, de-rack the mighty steed and head for the road.
According to some the bike course at Pembrokeshire is flat. Well insofar as the net altitude gained on the out and back course is zero then I suppose overall it's flat, but there sure are some bumps in the middle. In fact the bike leg is WELL hilly. The climbing starts almost immediately as the course heads inland, up the hill out of Fishguard.
It was on this first hill that I realized that the swim had been quite effective at taking the sting out of my legs. My feet were hurting, my legs were cold and I could not get comfortable on the bike, but I like the bike and I'd done my miles so I settled down and tried to get into a rhythm. Five minutes later I'm on a flyer, the legs are going and I'm off. The only problem I still have is my feet are still feeling bad. Loosening of the shoe straps resolves this problem. I'd done them up too tight in T1 cos my hands were still a bit numb from the swim, so point to note.
I'm about half way through the out leg when the elite boys pass me on the way back. T he're hammering down hill, and Jules's big disk wheel is rumbling like a good un, no doubt putting the fear of god into the guys he's catching. Paulo is also giving it large, which I think is humorous cos he's still gonna have to wait to give me a lift home.
On the bike I pass a few, more than pass me, which is good cos I know I'll be giving those places back to a few of them on the run. One particular bloke with toe clips and runners on keeps passing me up hill, and then I catch him on the downhills or flats. You see I'm not called Fatboy for nothing, and I therefore do not go up hills very quickly. So its a bit of a dukearoo until we get to the turn around.
The turn around is a lay-by which is at pretty much the highest point on the course, so its pretty much down hill all the way home. So this means I'm in my element. Gravity just loves me. I put the hammer down and pass a few people and before I know it I'm screaming back into transition to go out on the run.
The run is a two loop circuit of the dock. Dead flat, dead exposed and dead boring. Its only saving grace is that at this stage in the game you really don't care what it looks like. It is at this point that I make my only gripe about the race. There was not enough drink on the run course, and the sports drink was very badly made up. This meant that I was parched by the second lap, still its not the end of the world. 2.5 km to go and I'm feeling good. Through the transition and there are still loads of people applauding and cheering which was really nice. Cross the line in 2:58.
Ok so I didn't break any land speed records but by the same token I wasn't exactly falling across the line either, in fact the thing that hit me the hardest was the barbecue was finished!!
It wasn't until the next day that I realized I had also achieved another important first. Despite haze cloud cover I had managed to get my first bona fide triathlon vest top tan!
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