The Sherboune Experience

After a five hour car journey we (Jen, Deanna, Katie and me) arrived at the official IMUK campsite, an ex-sheep-field with port-a-cabin showers and toilets (which were spotless to be fair). After finding the best (flattest and poo-less) place to pitch the tent, our ‘holiday’ began. Chilling out and listening to rain falling on the tent consisted of the first evening on the site, then we were off to bed early as I wanted to get up early to ride the top part of the course before open-water swimming in the lake. The clock was set for 0530, but a nearby cockerel decided that 0530 was not early enough and proceeded to boast about his evening of egg-fertilisation by screeching his head off at 0455. So I decided as I was awake to get the porridge on and then get out at first light. 0630 saw me in the car heading for Sherborne and a place to park. I duly set my bike up, put my helmet on, got the jacket on and noticed no water in the bottles. So off with the stuff, back in the car and then went hunting for a “water shop.” Ten minutes later I was back in my car park place going through the rigmarole of putting all my kit back on, when I realised that I had left the cycling shoes back at the tent. So muttering expletives as I went I decided to postpone the ride and do the open-water swim, register then take the family to Dorchester for the day. Whilst they explored the historic city I endeavoured to ride the bottom half of the course and meet them there later. The weather was very kind that day and it hardly rained, so it was a happy family that returned to the campsite that now contained fellow Ironmen to be Ian Howick and Dean Hughes, who had arrived and pitched to form a mini commune. This was to be added to on Friday by the Hobbs family and Pat Robinson all of which had come to watch the event. Pat had managed to somehow lose her bumper and pick up a Frenchman all in one day!??!! Evenings would now be spent finding things to burn on the roaring fire and exchanging nuts, jokes and stories.

Friday saw me drop Jen and the girls at the local pool at 0700 and I set about tackling the top part of the bike course postponed from the previous morning. We were back in time for an open-water session in the lake and then once fed and watered we went off to a beach near Lyme Regis. The wetsuit clad family had a great time messing around in what would have been a freezing sea due to the lack of summer we were having. Once back at the tent we had our dinner, first outside, then due to rain (again), inside. Then it was another session around the campfire once more for more stories, jokes and race plan exchanges.

Saturday arrived. IMUK eve. Rain, rain, rain, rain, drizzle, mizzle, rain and rain would be an accurate summary of the weather that day. Roads on the campsite turned from quagmire to marsh and then to swamp and were practically impassable. Lucky that day involved no driving; we walked to the lake for the swim, giving everyone a chance for photos whilst we had a good old lark around in the water. Then, after food, we set off to watch the Ironkid’s Duathlon staring George, Charlie, Grace and Nick. The weather, as mentioned earlier, was foul and we pitied the children in these conditions, then the mind turned to our race tomorrow with trepidation if we had to contend with such awful conditions. Once the children’s race was over it was off to the race briefing, which took around three hours, but because we were soaked and cold felt like ten. Before the briefing the children were presented with their prizes to a huge round of applause and their pictures on the big screen, Grace managed 2nd and George 3rd with both Nick and Charlie 4th. The briefing mainly consisted of telling us we were going to be well marshalled, well fed and watered and well watched for drafting. How it got so drawn out I’ll never know! Most people left dejected and tired and I must admit it upset me for some time, as it threw all my food and planning timings out. Another trip back to the IMUK site was then needed to drop off the bike and T! and T2 bags and in this weather we were all starting to run out of dry clothes, socks and shoes, Deanna and Katie had their wellies – cracking idea. The walk back after the drop was filled with gallows’ humour regarding the event the next day but as we neared the ‘commune’ the mood picked up as we laughed at the cars that were stuck in the swamp that was now a full blown wetland. Following another meal we all went to bed at about 9pm and by 9:30 the whole campsite was quiet.
I was awoken on the IMUK morn by Jenni nudging me saying “I can hear Dean moving and talking what’s the time?” A quick look at the watch told me that I had not set the alarm and I had slept in till 0340 instead of getting up at 0300. So it was multi-task time; cook porridge, get dressed, brush teeth, wake-up kids and put kettle on. Miraculously I got back on track and left the tent at 0430 on the dot for the walk to IMUK transition. The setup passed uneventfully and we lined up at the transition exit like lambs to the slaughter. The walk to the lake was only 100m or so but took an age and we felt gladiatorial as we passed the cheering spectators. I managed a quick hug and kiss with Jen and the girls on the way and then was thoroughly entertained by Dean trying to put his swim hat on only for it to keep flying off into the air. Eventually it managed to stick (God knows what he puts on his hair), we shook hands, expressed good luck wishes, then entered the lake and swam off to the start. I positioned myself on the far side about three from the front, mainly just wanting clear water in front of me. We were held on the start line for about 20 minutes, no idea why, during which huge “Ois” were heard from the crowd with such force that I felt a chill down my spine (or was it the water coming through the zip), then the countdown started. 2 minutes. One minute. 30 seconds. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1. The horn sounded. Arms, legs bodies were everywhere, my clear water had disappeared and I was fighting for space to stroke out. I spotted some in front of the guy in front of me, so I kicked and pulled hard, got round him or maybe over him and I was now swimming in relatively clear water, nothing like the washing machine in the relays a few weeks earlier, I could really stroke out long. I maintained focus on streamlining and rolling and before I knew it the turn loomed and the field started to bunch. I avoided trouble by going the outside route and I was stroking out again, passing swimmer after swimmer, this was the best I had ever swum open water, I felt relaxed, strong and was enjoying myself. I looked up at the sky and could see the sun was trying to break through, my thoughts turned to the bike and whether to wear my new jacket. I decided that it would be best to as it could be very exposed on the hills. Back to the swim the field started to bunch again, another turn, this time I could take the fast inside route, using corkscrew style turns, then kick again and pull hard to get the speed up and stroke out once more. I was flying, bilaterally breathing totally relaxed. Then my hat felt like it was coming off, I wriggled my eyebrows and yes it was coming off. I had to stop and put it back on, that was the first time I felt blessed by being bald and having a head that sticks to neoprene unlike Dean’s earlier. Thankfully I only lost a few seconds and soon got back into my rhythm. Another bunching of the field told me another turn, again I got good position on the inside to corkscrew around the marker. Again I kicked and pulled to get to cruising speed, when for some reason I felt a kick in the head, I looked up, I saw a breast-stroker, he kicked me in the chest, I had to get round him, there were swimmers either side, I could not move. Another kick, this was starting to hurt. A gap appeared and I got round him, I looked at him just as he started to swim crawl, why couldn’t he have done that 2 minutes ago? I passed the swim start and we were heading back to the shore, I was feeling great and looking forward to standing up again. At the shore we were pulled out, immediately my abductors cramped, I cried out “Cramp!”, they started to lower me to the floor, I said “No. it’s my abductors stand me up.” They did and the pain went.

I jogged to T1 removing the wetsuit as I went. T1 was inside a tent and I could not believe the pandemonium that was going on, people were stripping off, totally nude and getting dressed again, marshals were running around asking if you were ok. My head was still spinning, I could not concentrate and I needed the toilet, so off I went. Once back and with a clear head it all made sense, I went through my well rehearsed plan and got out on the bike. I took the first lap easy 2 hours 15 min, At the start of lap two all the 4Lifers were there to cheer the noise was unbelievable (thanks guys). Ian passed me just after this and asked if I had had any punctures. I said that I had not and he went on to say he had two! He then rode off and I never saw him again till the run. Two punctures and he had caught me up after one lap, admittedly I had been going easy, but he was flying. Towards the end of the second lap Brian Rhodes overtook me on a hill now he WAS flying. The second lap ended with a time of 2:05 and the weather felt warm, following high fives with all of 4Life, I was starting to contemplate taking of the jacket, I was not sweating or overheating but thought it may save me some time. I decided that if I stopped for the toilet I would take it off, else I would carry on. This proved to be the best decision I made, because as I set out from Dorchester for home and T2 the rain started and for some reason the wind picked up. I was now riding with 90 miles in my legs into a headwind of rain and up a hill, which I knew I had no relief from for about 9 miles (40 mins). My resolve was tested, I kept saying do not go anaerobic, watch the heart rate, keep aero….stop crying. It hurt, my hip-flexors were on fire and the only way to stretch them is to stand up and push your groin forward, do that in these conditions up hill and you will stop dead, I had no choice but to suffer and literally ride it out. Once past the main climb and it was the relief a downhill section plus the shelter of some trees. An undulating section followed but every hill was a test of resolve and character I was actually welcoming the steeper climbs so that I could get out of the saddle and use another muscle set. The last climb arrived, along with the wind, everyone was aero and in their lowest gears, progress was slow and tough, but in the back of your mind you new that there was a lovely downhill that would take you all the way to T2. Trouble was you also knew that a marathon followed T2, still I was looking forward to getting rid of this bike and using my legs for what they were designed for. The run off the bike was downhill and I could hear the noise being made by 4Lifers outside T2 tent. I went through the well rehearsed plan of T2 lubricated what needed lubricating, had some food and then it was off on the marathon.

26 miles. The furthest I had ever run before was 15 miles. I was scared as I left the tent, however I was met by cheering of such magnitude that it reduced me to tears and it was then that I knew that I would do this, there was no way I could fail. The effort that these supporters had put in, not just to be at the event, but to be at the right place at the right time was phenomenal. It was their event as much as mine and I was determined that they were going to be cheering me home later that evening. So the run was started, the first two laps were around the grounds, going up the first hill I heard a cheery voice saying “That you Dave?” and Kevin passed me. Kevin was a veteran of many marathons so he was happy that he was on his favourite discipline. Then I heard another voice shout encouragement in a broad Yorkshire accent and new Richard was somewhere near, Ian then caught me, he was on his second lap, and we exchanged bike stories, wished each other luck before he went out to the town whilst I started lap two. I then buddied up with a chap from Stafford Trii but left him when he needed to toilet. Then it was my turn to pass the club supporters once more collect a load of high-fives and set off into the town myself. The town was out in-force supporting the event and every corner had someone there wishing you good luck or clapping. Through the school though and support disappeared and I started to feel tired for the first time. Runners were coming back and they looked battered – these were the elites – and they looked like they had been to hell and back. I was starting to dread the fate that awaited me on the dreaded dual-carriageway section. A 3 mile section had been coned off and we had to do two out-and-back loops and it was not flat, there were two hills on the way out. I was greeted to this section with a high-five from Dean as he was on his way back to the finish. I looked at my watch 10:12:14 he was on for 10:30 or so. Despite being tired I was still enjoying the run and the first lap passed without incident. I kept passing Richard (he was a lap ahead) he was running and walking and he looked decidedly shaky, he then kicked at the last half of the back loop and I never saw him, he had come through his bad patch. Mine had also passed, it was on the bike, the run was, albeit slowly, progressing, at least I thought that was my bad patch, my guts were starting to feel painful, I eased off the pace a bit and the pain went, I had some water at the next station and tried to get back to race pace again. No chance. I had to walk; it was up a hill anyway so no real time damage done. I talked to someone about how I was feeling and they said I needed to detoxify, have water for the next two stations and then eat a banana and power bars as much as you can plus water and lay off the Pepsi. I followed the prescription and found I could run a little after the second water station, the next station was also the last and I reached that with a huge smile on my face and grabbed the food with glee. I walked and ate the largest meal I had had for 13 hours, 1½ Power Bars, one banana and two cups of water. There was a footbridge to cross and I decided that I would run once I had got to the other side. I started to jog, someone overtook me, and they were walking. Walking!!!!!!!! I could not stand for that, tired or not, 23 miles in my legs or not, no way was that going to happen. I then remembered the drills that Dean had taught me, fast feet, high knees, high heels, concentrate on foot landing, and I started to do these a minute on and a minute off. My legs came back to life and I was back running again. No stopping me now, all the way to the finish. I came into the castle grounds – I could here the MC, I then saw the 4Life youngsters, holding out their hands for high-fives, Alex, George, Alex, Charlie, George, Alex, George, George again, they kept coming back for more. It was a phenomenal feeling. Then Katie was on the course for the run in, then more hands, Dean, Sam, Jez, Liz, they were all there, as they had been whenever I needed them to lift my spirits. Then it happened I became an Ironman. I crossed the line in 13:20:31 to end what was not just a long day, but 9 months of work and dedication.

It is now that I look back and see the event as the icing on the cake. It is a day to enjoy and be proud.

It is a test of not just body, if you do the training the body takes care of itself, but of mind. You need to train your mind to think when you are tired, to make sure you feed when you can not look at another bar or gel. You get the title of Ironman after a hard race but it is earned in the months of training that has to be done before you step up to the plate to be measured.

The final thing I would like to say about the event is a big thank you to the 4Life Ironman fraternity, Ian, Dean, Richard, Gary and the secret Ironman that is Kevin. Many thanks go to the supporters on the day, Louise, Stephen, Grace, Ellen, Nick, Anne, George, Charlie, Pat, Liz, Jez and Chloe, you really lifted me. Thanks to all the well-wishers from 4Life and East Leake Leisure Centre. A big thank you my family – Deanna and Katie, work colleagues and friends for their interest and support in the training. And finally a huge thank you to the woman without who I would still be a 19 ½ stone blubber-ball, my fiancé Jenni, you have inspired me in many ways over the years.