Up at 4.30am for a breakfast of super sweet rice pudding and pain au chocolat - all consumed in the bathroom whilst Lynn and the girls slept. Race kit (Fusion Speedsuit) - check, suncream applied - check, warm clothes on - check, Rucksack with swim kit, bike bottles and pump - check. That was me all set to meet Daniel at 5.30am in the hotel lobby and make the quiet 10 minute walk to race HQ.
However, 5.30am in Salou is not as quiet as you might think. Our route to transition took us past four or five bars and restaurants - all of which were packed with people, some spilling out onto the pavements, and bumping music. Lively. I'm not sure who was the most confused, us watching this spectacle or the revellers seeing two men in lycra walking through the Salou equivalent of Mathew Street!
I was probably a bit too laid back at the start, as despite my early arrival at transition, I had to run from the bag drop-off to the beach to be in time for a 50m warm up in the water before lining up on the beach with the other athletes in my wave start. Not great Bryan, sharpen up! Despite my lateness, I managed to squeeze my way to the front and was in a great position to run into the water when the cannon boomed.
3-2-1 boom. Go.
I ran over the soft sand into the shallow waters, with more than 100 other black-suited swimmers. And we ran. And ran. The water stayed shallow for 20-30 metres before dropping to depths where swimming was actually possible. I dolphin-dived four or five times, suddenly forgetting where I was, forgetting the drama and excitement of the race and just enjoying the sensation of diving into the water and gliding.
Inevitably, the time to stop messing about and start swimming came. I settled into a rhythm pretty quickly, lots of space around me, no clashes with other swimmers. Once settled, I looked around, observing how the race was unfolding. The faster swimmers were 10 metres to my right, about 10 metres ahead. I set my internal rudder 10 degrees east and made my way over to join the party. I caught up with them, with the notion of sticking with them and enjoying a relaxed, easy, drafting swim. However within the space of a pool length I had passed all but one of them. So much for that plan! The guy in front was swimming a bit quicker than I wanted to so I let him go, using him and the canoe that accompanied him as my sighting guide, ensuring I swam in the right direction. After passing the second of five buoys that marked out the 1.9k swim course, I rolled over onto my back to see what was happening around me. Not a lot as it turned out. I was alone. A distance ahead of the other swimmers.
Goggles were fogging a bit, making sighting a bit more difficult. However, the turn buoys were big and easy to spot, with giant balloons attached to them, the course very easy to navigate. Arms and shoulders were also starting to ache a little, partially down to swimming in a wetsuit for the first time in 8 months, partially the pace of the swim but also due to the limited time spent in the pool this year. I felt myself slowing a little as we neared transition. That's fine. Don't fight it. Conserve energy for the rest of the race.
I ran along the soft sand with wet feet, stripping as much of my wetsuit off as I could before reaching my transition bag and the change tent. My wetsuit - Blueseventy Helix - is great for swimming in but really difficult (for me anyway) to take off. I eventually wrestled it off my calves and ankles and went through my transition routine. Running to my bike I felt fantastic. Energy aplenty.
Once past the mount line and onto my bike, I pedalled easy for a few minutes, allowing my body time to adjust to the new position. I checked my Garmin. Power numbers appearing. Heart rate monitor recognised and working. Satellites acquired and speed and distance numbers increasing. All good. All expected data present and correct.
Looking down I noticed my heart rate was high - about 155. I expected this so continued cruising through the twists, turns and roundabouts taking us out of town and onto the main cycle route. Once onto the wider, flat, black tarmac main road I settled into my aerobars, my race position. Speed started to rise. I then checked my power numbers. Too high. The internal dialogue then started.
"Your power numbers are too high, slow down" cried one voice.
"Oh stop. I'm feeling great, and I reckon I can sustain this" came the rebuttal from the idiot voice.
"Don't be ridiculous! You've never trained at this level, you have a long race ahead and you want to run strong".
"Pah!"
Fortunately, sensible voice was the winner, and I reluctantly dropped the intensity a bit.
The first of the u-turns signed on the route came without much warning. I saw a man in a yellow vest waving his arms about 50m in front of a roundabout. I thought he was telling me to go around the roundabout and make my way back. Once I'd passed him, I quickly realised I was supposed to turn around him! Oops. I breaked hard and made a slow turn around and pedalled, back on the correct course. Much to my embarrassed self's relief, I wasn't the only one to make this error. The five guys behind me also shot past. Shortly after the turn, I spotted Daniel coming the other way. "Hey Daniel!" I shouted, alas without reply. I looked at my Garmin and I reckoned I was about 4 minutes ahead. I definitely wasn't expecting him yet so he must have had a super swim.
The route soon took us off the main road again, going through some more roundabouts, another u-turn, and a back road that looked very out of place in this race! After about 20k we emerged onto the main road, a large dual carriageway that was completely closed to traffic. Speed started to pick up. Heart rate was dropping. I was feeling good. A few people passed me, but not many. I was passing others in front. A mix of female athletes who started 10 minutes in front of me and the over eager athletes who started the bike at a pace they would struggle to maintain. I was eating and drinking regularly. Torq gel every 40 minutes - which in hindsight might not have been enough? - and sips of water.
This was not a hilly bike course, whichever way you look at it. However there were a couple of 'hills' near the turnaround, between 45 and 55k. Nothing to change gear out of the big ring for, but enough to drop speeds to 20-22kph.
After picking up two bottles of water at the aid station, I made my return journey, back to transition. I noted my time at the turnaround and then looked across the road, trying to spot other athletes such as Daniel, Alastair, Jeff, Jon, Natalie, Hannah and trying to gauge the different gaps between us all. I spotted Daniel with ease, a little too close for my liking! Somehow I missed the 6 feet five inch frame of Alastair. Maybe I blinked and he just powered past? Probably. I shouted encouragement to the other guys - I love that stuff - and most of them replied, others silent just in their own focussed zone!
I felt like I powered back to transition, seeing my average speed creep higher the longer the race went on. Out of the saddle on the 'hills', just to change position and stretch my neck and back, I felt powerful. Still being careful not to overdo things, despite my eagerness to charge. I enjoyed the last 40k the most.
In no time I was making some more twists and turns and navigating roundabouts. Transition was fast approaching. The enthusiastic crowds were thickening now, and I milked the support, waving, smiling and giving thumbs up. I was still feeling great.
Off the bike, running towards transition the first person I see cheering is Kate. Fantastic! Bike racked, I ran and grabbed my run bag, changed into my running shoes and then spotted Lynn and the girls immediately. Awesome!
I started out of transition and my legs felt ok. Not great, not light, but turning over well. "Keep it going and they'll soon feel good" I told myself optimistically. Through the first 2k in the sticky heat, running along at 4.45min/k pace and then ... ouch! Right hamstring cramp! Out of nowhere it struck and didn't let up. "Come on! Give me a break!" The voice in my head screamed. I stretched and massaged it a little and it eased up. I continued on, and after 400m or so my hamstring started to feel normal again. My pace picked up a bit, moving nearer to my pre-race goal of 4.30 min/k. For the next 5k I was running at this sort of pace, keeping the gap between myself and Daniel 'interesting'. He was closing, but not fast. It could be an interesting race.
After about 8k I felt my left knee go weak and a sharp pain struck every time I hit the ground with that leg! That's not good. About 10 days before the race this knee had swollen after one of my run sessions, and it hadn't been right since. Running along the prom next to the sand, in a race with some fantastic athletes, I no longer had any power in my left leg. Argh!! The pain eased as I slowed a little to 4.45min/k. I cracked on with it, trying to keep my cadence high and my pace consistent.
"Two more laps and I'm done. Come on, just two more laps". Sensible voice keeping me on track. The third lap was the worst though, with cramp striking again, although much more easily treated this time. Pace was 5 minute kilometres when running, although I was definitely taking more time walking through the aid stations. The idiot voice was strong, and my mood wasn't good, only lifting briefly when I saw Lynn and the girls. They always pick me up. Never fail.
I had a gel, and coupled with my awesome support, I started to feel a bit more positive about things. One lap to go. Picked up the pace a little and moved ahead of athletes around me. This was better. Reached the turnaround point at the far end of the course. 2k to go. Come on. Calf muscles started to pulse. "Don't you dare" I said to myself, "don't even think about it". I shortened my stride even further and gritted my teeth.
Picking up my last of four wristbands, signifying four completed laps, I entered the finish area and I spotted Lynn and the girls again. I stopped and gave them all a kiss! I glanced at the clock as I crossed the line - 4.51. A PB. First time under five hours. How did that happen? With that horrible last half of the run too. Awesome! Just shows what you can do if you just keep moving forward. No feeling sorry for myself and giving up. Just keep moving.
A great time was had by all. This race has a new set of fans. Challenge Salou - you were awesome!
