Hometown Unicorn

Driving back to Shepperton - mid Monday, school holidays - was pretty uneventful, except for a stop for food at Warwick services, where me and Olly met up with a few IMUK competitors “refuelling” in Burger King. Nice to bump into the couple who crossed the line together the previous evening, and a guy in a woolly hat who I'd chatted to in the hotel car park. We got back mid afternoon, and being the sort of guy who likes to get things squared away, I spent a relaxing our getting kit put away, my foul-smelling wetsuit rinsed, and over-ripe bananas consigned to recycling. Then a relaxing evening, before back to work Tuesday. My physical state over the next few days was quite interesting. I'd got some sunburn on my right shoulder (missed that bit in T2), and my quads were sore off and on over the next few days, but to my surprise, my feet were in excellent shape : no blistered or chaffing. Coming downstairs Tuesday morning was harder than it had been Monday, and I re

I am sure this is a common feeling but immediately after the race - by immediately, I mean for a few seconds - I don't actually feel that my race and day was over. Medal and official race photo, then a sort of limbo – my brain is still going, but my body isn't. Massive hugs with my wife and son in the sort of U-bend, then into the tent to be subtly eyeballed by some medical staff , collect my Finisher t-shirt (oh YEAH), and grab two slices of pizza and a slice of orange.  I sit down on a white plastic chair in the finisher's area, feeling a bit like a lab rat, being peered at in a friendly way by spectators through the fencing. Perhaps they think I am going to die, but actually all I do is sit there and for about 2 minutes silently chomp my pizza, swig from a bottle of water and (this sound self-indulgent but, give me a break...) marvel at what I have achieved over the past day, weeks and months. I look around and there are four or five other newly-minted Iro

The big day begins So. It's 02:45. I get out of bed, jump into my tri suit and calf guards, and head off to the bathroom to stare at my bleary face and apply my tattoo. Hold on, is it left arm or right? It's right. After a minute or so I have “1234” going down my right arm. I pop on a T and some Ron Hill legs, grab my car key, and white swim bag with wetsuit, bodyglide, and goggles, and head off to breakfast. The only people eating at this time are, of course, IM athletes, so I sit and chat to a nice guy called Michael (all the way from Copenhagen) about the day to come and stick a plate of porridge down my throat. He's got previous experience : Challenge Copenhagen. That looks like a franchise to watch. Sitting in the restaurant, looking out of the window into a still-very-dark Bolton night, finishing the race seems a long way away. We wish each other luck, and I go down to the car park, find my car and drive the 15 minutes to the Reebock Stadium where

During Friday afternoon I laid out all my kit in the hotel room, and bagged. Sad to say I even rehearsed the changes, just to make sure I had the right stuff in the right bags. Then I bagged up Red and Blue bags and put them to one site. Friday night was pretty grim – a tip to others : if you are planning to stay in the Holiday Inn, book very early and demand a room on the third / fourth floor or higher, because otherwise you'll lose even more sleep from the wedding parties (they can run two at a time) which occur, noisily, on the ground floor till 1 am. I managed a few dozes till the partying stopped around 1 am and then Saturday was set-up day : a first look at the lake, and T1 and T2. But first I went down to check out the Ironkids event in the town centre  This was basically a run event for 6 yro and up kids who had a blast running around the last km of the run route and under the Ironman Finish banner. Fun to see them and hear the parents and friends cheer

I thought I'd blog the experience of doing an Ironman event, as it has commanded a lot of my time and attention in the last few months, and I really wanted to capture my thoughts and feelings as the big day approaches.  For those not in the know, Ironman UK is a long distance triathlon - 3.8km swim, 180 km bike, an then a marathon run, which is held yearly in Bolton, NW England. I travelled up today, a long but uneventful drive in the faithful Peugeot 308, and I've managed to get all the logistics sorted : register for the event, find and check in at the hotel, and attend the mandatory race briefing.   The briefing was basically a talk thru of the rules, course and overall event plan, and the audience was about 600 wasted-looking athletes.  I guess we've been doing some training!  I was chatting to a nice guy from just down the road (Altrincham) who, like me, just wants to hear those words "You are an Ironman!" Looks like we'll be getting dry weather on r