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Easter Sunday – 8th April – Sprint Triathlon Guer-Coetquidan

350m swim: 25kms cycle: 5m run

Now this is a real turn up for the book; my first competitive triathlon for over 15 years, and a real last minute thing it was too.

I was swimming in my local pool at Ploermel when I got chatting with the other chap in my lane, a Triathlete, as it happened. He told me about his Tri-club which was attached to the local military base in Coetquidan, a town I’d regularly cycled by on training rides. The camp was not too far away and boasted a 50m swimming pool.

When I returned home, I Googled the Coetquidan Tri-club on the ‘Interweb’ and discovered that they were hosting a couple of races the next day, Easter Sunday. In the morning there was to be a Duathlon, and in the afternoon, a Sprint Triathlon. On the spur of the moment, I entered the Sprint Tri. After all, I’d have the luxury of a lie-in; much more civilised than the early morning Sportive starts I’d been used to. It would also give me the opportunity to check out the weather. I could always abort if the forecast rain arrived – it didn’t.

The next day dawned grey but cool. I didn’t have the cold feet I’d expected and so found myself enrolled and sitting beside the beautiful 50 metre pool awaiting my turn to take the plunge. In order to start and finish early and I had estimated my 400m swim time to be around 7:30mins, so I was set to start in the fourth wave; around 14:40hrs.

I had set myself a challenging (for me) target time of one and a half hours, although I decided to treat the whole thing as a hard training session and not worry too much about the transitions (more fool me).

Swim: The swim went really well, it was the first time I’d been in a 50m pool for over 15 years too. I exited the water after the 7 lengths, first in my wave with a split time of 6:34. Not brilliant, but OK for an old fart with limited swim training under my belt.

I took my time in transition, towelling myself dry, donning cycle top, shoes (no socks), helmet and sunglasses, and ran with the bike through transition to the start of the bike course. For those not familiar with the rules of Triathlon, there’s no cycling allowed in the transition area, and no drafting allowed during the cycle (at least for non-championship events). Triathlon was designed as an individual time-trial sport, no help is allowed; you’re on your own.

Cycle: The two-lap cycle course was hilly, very hilly, and set on closed roads inside the Army camp. Some of the surfaces were a little bumpy, a bit like all the roads in the UK. On the first lap, I wasn’t passed, nor did I pass anybody, but as I started on the second lap, a slew of riders overtook me, one by one. I managed to catch a couple of people on that second lap and averaged 28kph overall – not bad for a time-trial on a hilly course in the wind. Now for the run!

Run: My lack of preparation for the transition took its toll in the end. I dismounted the bike, ran through to my rack position and proceeded to try and put my running shoes on. Try as hard as I night, I simply could not get my left shoe on; it wouldn’t fit! I ended up having to sit down and undo a bloody knot that had formed in the lace. Without my reading glasses on, I had to do this by touch alone and it seemed to take forever. I was about to give up and start running with a loose shoe and flapping laces, when the stubborn knot loosened and I finally managed to don the recalcitrant footwear.

The run course was two laps on dirt paths through woodland. Cross-country! Had I known this before entering, I might well not have bothered. Luckily we’ve had very little rain here for a few weeks and the conditions underfoot were bone dry so the going was easy than it might have been. After a mile or so, the track dipped down into a cutting and there was a really sharp uphill climb which really took it out of my legs. I overtook a couple of stragglers here, but was in turn, overtaken by some real hares.

The second lap passed by without incident and I even managed a sort of sprint finish to cross the line in a reasonable time of 1:29:57; a full three seconds inside my target! Wa-hay!

Overall: I actually felt quite comfortable during the run, my worst discipline, and this is part of my problem in competitive terms. I shouldn’t feel comfortable at any stage of a triathlon. I should really put the effort in and be close to the edge of breaking down, but I’m always in fear of not finishing and so back off a little. I’ll have to reconsider this strategy if I do any more Triathlons this year. But for a first effort back in the sport after such a long layoff, I felt reasonably satisfied.

Results: Overall time: 1:29:57 (Winner’s time 1:03:16); I finished 106^th of 143 entrants. Swim: 6:34 (transition time: 2:19); Cycle: 55:47 (transition time: 4:40); Run: 25:17.

Just look at that, a total transition time of 6:59 – disgraceful. Had I thought about it a little I could have easily shaved something like 5 minutes off that which would have gained me about sixteen places. Tee hee! You live and learn.

By the way, I finished 7^th in my age group. 

25th March 2012 - Guegon Sportive – 83kms

The ride started at 08:30hrs on a cold, grey morning the day the clocks went forward. Not only had we lost an hour’s sleep, but an hour’s morning daylight; I felt decidedly under prepared. That being said, I managed to stay with the lead group, which contained a number of the good riders from the Saturday training sessions, Andy Shaw amongst them, for the first 20 kms.

OK, I was dropped on the first serious climb but no surprises there, eh?

I found myself in the second group working hard to try and regain the leaders. I was heavily involved in the chase and took regular turns on the front, driving the group forwards, for the next 30 kms or so. I was dropped on another long hill, but, with the aid of a couple of other riders, managed to reattach to the second group just as we arrived at the picturesque town of Josselin.

Now, this turned out to be a real punch in the guts. I had worked like stink to reattach to the group and was hoping to take it easy and recover at the back for a few kms, but it was not to be. Josselin is at the bottom of a valley and there is no way out of the town but up, and as soon as I had regained the group, I was dropped again on another long climb. This time, I didn’t manage to recover and spent the remainder of the ride on my own in ‘No Man’s Land’.

I eventually finished with an average speed of around the 30kpm mark, (5kph slower than the leaders). Not bad, but no cigars. Andy, going well this year already, finished in the first three. My other English mate and veteran, Bob Jones, also finished with the leaders.

Winter Training – 2011/12

I know this is my first blog of the year, but I’ve been busy setting up my workshop and making furniture again. This year’s cycle blogs are likely to be few and far between. On the other hand, I’m about to set up Website dedicated to my cabinet-making activities, which will include writing project articles, so I’ll still be heavily involved in the ‘Websphere’; now, back to the cycling stuff.

Training went really well this winter. I maintained my fitness level and even added running and swimming to my training mix. I had thought about entering the odd triathlon here or there; despite that fact that I entered my last triathlon over fifteen years ago.

In the New Year, I felt so strong that I even joined the intra-club Saturday afternoon training rides. These are ad hoc affairs set up to give the Category riders some serious winter training with other high-calibre cyclists. There were riders from a couple of local clubs and we rendezvoused at 13:30hrs at various locations and joined up in Ploermel before heading out into the country to follow different routes every week. A club car from UC Josselin followed us in case of accident or breakdown, and to offer lifts to the weaker participants when they struggled to stay attached, (which, of course, included yours truly). I have to admit that the pace set by the good riders was extremely fast and I had to catch a tow or a draft from the club car on a number of occasions.

I’ll take a bit of time here to explain what ‘taking a tow from the club car’ means to those unfamiliar with the term. Basically, the car slows down a bit and pulls along side, and you grab hold of it, either a bike rack or one of the pillars when the passenger lowers his window. After you’ve nodded that you are firmly attached, the driver speeds up and pulls you back to the pack. Depending upon how far back you are when you latch on, the tow could last a kilometre or so, and the car is travelling at speed in excess of 50kph. Bear in mind that the towed cyclist is hanging on to the car with one hand, and his handlebars with the other, not the safest of positions. The first time I took a tow, I nearly came off my bike as I jostled for a better hold on my handlebars – scary.

However, as the weeks went by, I found that I had to take fewer and fewer tows as my strength improved and cycling speed increased. I was never going to challenge the Category riders, but I certainly felt that stronger in the saddle; at least until the February visit to England to meet my new granddaughter.

The UK visit lasted two weeks, (that’s two week sans velo!), and culminated in my catching the inevitable UK-visit head-cold; I think I must be allergic to England. On the other hand, we did meet little Isla Josephine (gorgeous), and renew our acquaintance with our wonderful grandsons, Lewis and Elliott – so it was worth it in the end.

On the down side, the three-week enforced break from cycling had taken its toll on my fitness. The first time back on the bike again felt like hell; so much for the long hard miles of winter training.  As a result, I have since had to seriously reconsider my 2012 racing calendar; i.e. I’m not sure when I’ll do my first PC road race, but keep reading. 

Plouay (56) – Cyclo Sportive - 26th August 2011 - (117kms)

06:30:  - A great start; I arrived at the pickup point at Taupont on time (unlike last year) – hooray!

It was an ominously dark and overcast morning. The weather forecast was not promising and I was really not looking forward to my second Cyclosportive of the year. Despite all the races I’ve done so far, I felt decidedly underprepared for the event. I nearly pulled out, but I’d already paid the entry fee and I am mean. So, there I was in the back seat of the car together with club-mates Ian, Daniel and Vincent, in the false-dawn light on the way to Plouay.

We arrived in plenty of time for start-time of 08:45, but when we signed in we were told that the start of our race was 08:15! A mad dash back to the car followed to don race kit, no time to check tyre pressures; then a mad sprint back to the start line in time to join on the back of the 300-odd starters. A couple of minutes waiting and we were off.

We were so far back that it took us an age to finally move past the start line. It was a bit like the beginning of the London Marathon, but I guess it was our fault for taking our time to get to the start.

0-80 kms: We hit a long hill almost immediately and Ian pulled away from me and was soon lost from sight. I managed to join with a large group of my peers and we motored through the Brittany countryside at a relatively brisk pace (around 33kph) for the next 80kms. 

We got lucky with the weather apart from the heavy mist that cloaked us for the first hour. Visibility became so bad at one stage that I had to remove my sunglasses; they had become opaque with beads of moisture.

The 61kms riders split off from us at about the 40kms mark and our group carried on without incident. I struggled a little on the climbs, but moved to the front on the descents and stayed at the front on the flats. Hill after hill passed by and I managed to stay with the group (of about 40) will little alarm. I felt stronger, and more confident as the race progressed.

I can’t remember when the 90kms riders split off, but my group was still going strong. We had about 40kms to go and were clipping along at around 32.5kph when we were joined by a slip of a woman who attached herself to us. 

Much to my surprise, it was the Jersey lass (Carole Knight), who I’d crossed the finishing line with in 2010. Wow, she must have had a great winter’s training. I felt that I was flying along and we’d only just caught her at about 75kms. We chatted pleasantly for a couple of kilometres until we came to a fast descent and I dropped her quite quickly before she caught me again on the next climb. She is a tiny woman and can’t have pushed the scales much beyond 50kgs, great for climbing, but not for descents. We carried on like this for a few more kilometres before my minor disaster struck!

80-117kms: We were about half-way up a minor climb and I had my head down concentrating on the wheel in front when, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a yellow-jacketed marshal pointing right. So I turned right. It was only during the turn that I noticed the 161kms bifurcation sign - I had turned onto the route of the long course – Damn!

I made an emergency stop and u-turn but by the time I returned to the 117kms route I’d lost my group. I could see them cresting the top of the rise about 100 metres away – my heart sank. Just then I heard the unmistakeable sound of cyclists crashing to the deck. I reflexively looked back in time to see a couple of riders regaining their seats and off I went in an angry, but steady chase for my fast disappearing group.

I was soon joined by the two crashed riders, one of them a woman (Valerie Sapena), and we began working together in a steady, but ultimately hopeless for the group ahead. We soon swept up a group of riders in yellow and hoped they’d help us with the chase but they just sucked our wheels for the next 10kms or so much to my disgust. It was only later that I noticed the guys in yellow were all over sixty; their venerability meant that they were due a bit of respect and a rest at my expense.

I began feeling more and more leg-weary by this stage because, in all honesty, I’d done most of the work during our forlorn chase.

With 10kms to go we’d just about given up the cause when we were caught by a large group of guys who whipped past us at pace. With relief Valerie and I took our turn to grab a free ride. Breathing hard, I managed to say “Rescue” to her. She nodded and smiled at me before digging in as the next climb hit us. I managed to stay attached but was dropped on the next long hill; my legs were cooked after all the work I’d done on the chase.

Gutted, I more or less limped the final 5kms to the finish and could only manage a half-hearted sprint across the line which took me past a few riders, most of whom were probably in the other, shorter races.

I was bitterly disappointed to note that my average speed was actually slower than last year – my first real failure of the year. What do I have to do to improve? No, don’t bother to answer that one, I know.

The group we were chasing finished about 5 minutes ahead and contained Carole from Jersey, who finished as 3^rd female rider – and bloody good for her too.

Race distance – 117 kms		Total number of competitors – 288
Name	Time/Average Speed	Race Position	Percentile	Comments
Ian	3:33:04 32.95 kph (20.6 mph)	142nd	49%	No cramp this year, but like me, he started at the back of the group so lost a couple of minutes on the leaders. Came 59th in is age group (67%)
Me	3:49:12 30.6 kph (19.1 mph)	198st	69%	I finished 34 in my age group out of 49 (69%). Not as good as last year, but then again, I didn’t take the wrong turn last year did I?
Daniel	-	-	-	His name does not appear on the results list, must be a cock-up on the time recording front.
Vincent	-	-	-	He completed the 90kms race on his heavyweight ‘tank’ of a bike – no results are available.

Neant-sur-Ivel (56) - Pass’Cyclisme 21st August 2011 - (D3-4) – (3.7kmsx15laps – 56kms)

Alliteratively speaking the Neant race was hot, hilly and horrible.

In a nutshell, I was dropped early on, and chugged away for about 12 laps all on my lonesome, slowly melting in the 30+degree heat. The whole thing was a blur of grinding hills, and being passed y the D1/2 racers three times and the D3/3 riders once or twice (my memory os playing up on me these days).

My overall average could not break 30kph, which shows just how tough the course was; I’ve been averaging up to 36 kph in races recently.

There were only a couple of other things worth mentioning.

Firstly, Taupont Cyclisme secretary, Eric Coué, was there with his camera to record my hard work, and eventual exhausted crawl over the finish line. I also owe him thanks for replenishing my water-bottle towards the end of the race. Secondly, my mate Bob Jones stayed towards the head of the race, finishing in the top fifteen.

Result: Average speed: 29.1kph. Marks out of ten for my performance: -5.

I seem to be getting worse as the training miles reduce – funny that, eh?  Work commitments have been high lately and I have not been able to get out for long training rides recently. Such is life.

Next race: Plouay Sportive – 117kms.