Notts 20

This morning L and go our separate race ways. She hops on the Red Arrow and then the Comet on her way up to the Kilburn Kilometres 10K. You’d think that the run would be a doddle after the transport arrangements but she says it was brutal with knee deep mud and loads of stiles to climb over. It took her 1 hour 24 minutes but naturally she loved it.

It sounds surprisingly like my race where there no stiles but still plenty of mud. Which wasn’t what I was expecting from the new Notts 20 Road Race.

I drive over to Holme Pierrepont nice and early which was a very good plan as the car park soon fills up. Parking anarchy breaks out with people abandoning their cars all over the place and it becomes apparent that they probably aren’t going to get 800 runners’ cars in but somehow everyone parks somewhere.

This is the first running of the race so there are going to be a few teething problems and that’s one for attention next year.

Practically everybody was doing this 20 miler to prepare for a marathon, so all the chat was about which one you were doing. Were you lucky enough to have got into London or were you doing Brighton or Manchester? Many were doing more than one of these.

The route consisted of two different loops out from the National Water Sports Centre. The first one of around 13 miles took us out through Radcliffe-on-Trent and Shelford. Then the second, of the remaining seven miles, took us out along the riverbank to the Victoria Embankment and back. The first part seemed to contain large chunks of the Outlaw bike course along with the legendary Adbolton Lane potholes while the second part seemed to contain large chunks of the Outlaw run course. So you could say it was all very familiar to me.

What I didn’t expect was that so much of it would be off road, around about two-thirds perhaps, and because the weather hadn’t been great of late, several sections of the course had turned in to either mini lakes or mud baths. It almost warranted trail shoes.

The last section along the riverbank was particularly grim with its puddles, mud and very narrow path. Which wasn’t the best choice for a race in March.

The other thing that made it a lot harder was the lack of miles markers. There were not at all. Apparently the organisers took the decision to take them down as they were in danger of becoming low flying missiles in the wind. Unfortunately, this looked a bit over the top with the wind having dropped considerably by race time. So once again I was wishing I had brought my GPS watch but we all ended up using the water stations, which were placed every three miles, as markers.

Anyhow it all went well in the end and it was all very well organised despite the less than perfect route. I was aiming to break three hours which I knew I was on to when I saw the three hour pacer behind me as we did an out and back section on the Embankment with around two miles to go.

I came home in 02:55:51 to claim a fairly naff medal but a very nice t-shirt.

Outlaw Half

Yesterday my partner gets a leisurely 12.30 start for her triathlon. This morning it’s 4:15am when I awake to the sound of rain pounding on the roof. It’s the day of the third Outlaw Half and the first to come with bad weather. Joy.

I suppose the rain doesn’t make an awful lot of difference to the swim. Although the wind might, as there does appear to be a few waves scuttling across the swim course but again you can’t really tell once you’re in there. In any case, I’m capable of near drowning in a mill pond.

The swim is the usual combination of elbows in the face and feet in the stomach, just all served a bit colder than last year. My swim disappoints a touch, four minutes down on last year at 43:06. I’ll blame the weather.

My swim to bike transition is down on last year too, I take a terribly leisurely six minutes. I’ll blame the weather for that too.

The bike is my favourite bit and still is, even in the rain which has now become intermittent. Every time you think it’s stopped, it comes back to give you another drenching. It’s not as bad as last year’s Sundowner and again the rain isn’t really the problem unless you’re one of the poor guys who overcooked it and finished the race in an ambulance.

The problem is the wind. It was often a case of simply head down and pedal aggressively into it. All you could do was pin your gaze on the bike and the rear end of the person in front of you, which are all helpfully named so that you can curse ‘Wayne’ when he zooms past you and disappears off up the road. You don’t follow too closely of course because that would be classed as drafting or alternatively perving. Nonetheless I would like to pay thanks to the bottoms of Tamara, Rebecca and Rob! Whom kept me going but whose faces I never saw.

My bike is four minutes slower and yes, I’ll blame the weather.

I had promised myself to do a decent swim and an awesome bike, so that I could take the run steady to preserve the knees for next weekend’s Ramathon, which I really really want to do.

Having done a less than decent anything so far, Plan A is already in the bin. I try and have a strong run whilst trying to run on the grass as much as possible to protect my knees. Yes my run is also slightly down on last year and I can’t blame the weather any more as it’s fined up now.

So I miss six hours by as much as I coasted under it last year, yet still had a brilliant time as this is such a brilliant well put together event.

I finish and immerse myself in the post-race wonderland, where there is post-race chilli/curries/pasta etc on tap, teas, muffins, folk willing to rub their hands over whatever you like (within reason) and Erdinger alcohol free everywhere. Actually it’s a shame they couldn’t have got some Erdinger not alcohol free in for afterwards.

Big Swim, Nottingham

Today I have the dubious honour of swimming in the rowing strip at the National Water Sports Centre, Holme Pierrepont.

There are three distances on offer: - 5k, 3k and 1.5k. No prizes for guessing which one I’ve gone for. L has opted for 3k and this starts at the very human time of 2.30pm. We head down a little early to check of the ‘Expo’, which is mainly for the Outlaw Ironman Triathlon on Sunday. The place is literally buzzing, mainly with folk getting ready for the Outlaw, racking bikes etc, but there are quite a few of us there purely to don some rubber.

We check in and are asked to show some photographic identification, as if anybody would pretend to be me and steal my place. We are then issued with a wristband (no idea what the purpose of this is), a timing chip and a coloured swim cap. Blue for the boys, red for the girls.

Then before long L is in the water and away. We have been briefed that the swim route is very simple. Straight up, round two orange buoys and then back, in a clockwise direction. Simple, as long as you can swim.

 L has to do this circuit twice, with a little run along the bank in between. So almost an aquathon. Having seen her complete her first circuit, I start to get ready for my date with the water. Then they announce that my start has been delayed from 4pm to 4.30pm to give the canoeists a break from the sun. Which is fine, if only they’d told me before I’d struggled into my wetsuit. It’s very warm today and once the wetsuit is on, you start to melt from the inside out. I suppose what I actually need now is a cooling dip in the lake but as this is no longer available, I choose to take the suit off again. At least now I will get to see L finish.

Then it’s my turn. Everything starts off much better than at Windermere. Firstly they give us time to acclimatise in the water and I make sure I’m one of the first in, to maximise this. We also actually start from within the water, which also makes it easier.

I almost enjoy the start and the early use of elbows as I jostle for position in the pack. I think eventually I get spat out the back of it, which I’m not too upset about. Then I realise I’m about to head butt the bank because I’m way off course, which is probably why no one considers me worth an elbow any more.

Clearly my ‘sighting’ (e.g. looking where I’m going) needs a bit of work but stroke wise I feel I’m close to getting the hang of it and I manage to do front crawl throughout. Wetsuit #3 also doesn’t seem to be choking the life out of me, which helps. Oddly though, I’m breathing almost totally over my left shoulder, which is something I cannot do in the pool where I almost exclusively use the right. I have no sane explanation for this.

The breathing also involves spitting loads of weeds out, which is an unexpected bonus but thankfully I don’t come across any supermarket trolleys. Thankfully because I know they have it in for me.

The main problem now is that someone appears to have moved the orange buoys because it’s a bloody long way. By the time I get there, I have cramp in both calves, which is a bit inconvenient. It comes and goes but doesn’t pass. At least, as I discover, in a wetsuit you don't need to kick your legs for buoyancy and can simply drag them uselessly behind you.

After a few more attempts at head butting the bank, which is accompanied by the unjust feeling that by doing all this zigzagging I must have swam twice as far as everyone else, I see the finish line.

As I reach the finish, I am more than happy to crawl up the slip way to the finish gantry but the marshals insist on helping me to my feet. Then they repeat this kind gesture after I have toppled over backwards as my legs temporarily decline the offer of terra firma.

35 minutes it took me, which is 10 minutes better than Windermere for 100m less. Sort of good I suppose.