Richard finishing IMUK 2009

To avoid running related injuries, Richard McChesney decided he needed to do some cross training. He also felt he needed a motivating force to get him into the water or onto a bike, so he entered Ironman UK just 15 weeks before the event. He tells us what happened.

 

Other than swimming and cycling with my children I hadn’t actually done any training other than running between 1995 and March 2009, and I had only taken up running again a couple of years previously, but that didn’t stop me harbouring a little dream of possibly qualifying for Kona. I hoped my running endurance would have been enough to enable me to get cycle and swim fit quickly. I mean, how hard can it be to swim 3.8km, cycle 180km and run a marathon? I’d done it all before. But that was a long time ago.

Training didn’t go quite as well as planned (does it ever?) and I had to nurse a couple of niggling injuries over the 15 weeks, but I arrived in Bolton feeling pretty fit and strong.

Race day for me and my support team (my wife, Ruth, and youngest son, Zac) started with a 2.30 am breakfast after a few hours of reasonably good sleep. Making our way to the start at about 3.30 am we found it somewhat bemusing to see the local youth culture still in full swing. Who was having the better time?

The first challenge of the day was to get to the start line. Due to the bad weather over the previous week, the organisers had to close the official car park. Instead, they requested we parked at Bolton stadium and take the bus. This was less than ideal for my dedicated supporters. Instead we found a pub car park 1 ½ miles from the start and walked the rest in the dark, along with a horde of like-minded athletes.

At about 5:30am I said goodbye to Ruth and Zac and headed down to the water.  Spectators were frustratingly not allowed to watch the swim start, which was about 300 yards down a concrete path from transition, and had to wait an hour or so before seeing any further activity.  In fact, the biggest complaint amongst all concerned was that IMUK was definitely not a spectator friendly course and this should be addressed in future.

Diving into 14 degree water at six in the morning should seem like madness, yet with 1,499 people next to me it was perfectly normal and rational. I am not a strong swimmer and expected a battering. I got one. I tried to stay out to the right hand side of the pack but each turning compressed us into tight pack and it felt like being at the bottom of a ruck on a very wet rugby field.

Emerging from the water nearly one and a half hours later I tried not to be too disappointed at my 10 minutes longer on the swim than expected – I was only in there for fun, after all – and staggered up the concrete path to transition. Later it transpired the course had been about 500 yards too long, which gave me some comfort.

Out on to the bike course and what a fantastic route!  It started with a short descent followed by a three mile hill climb that had me thinking I could be racing a mini Tour de France mountain stage. Spectators lined each side of the road and people had written names and other words of encouragement on the road.

Next came the first aid station and the chance to stuff my pockets with Power Bars, and the payback for the climb: a three mile descent ending in a sharp left turn, which left a few unlucky athletes to regret ignoring the ‘slow down’ signs.

I completed the first lap in 1:59 and the second in 2:03, despite the beginning of a pain in my right knee. Pleased with my pacing consistency I pressed on, but by the time I started the big hill climb for the third time I was unable to get out of the saddle and had to change down to the lowest gear and just grind my way up the hill.

From then on I couldn’t get out of the saddle for even the shortest climb and had to drop to my lowest gears. I finally finished the ride in just under six and a half hours and was now about 30 minutes behind schedule.

No problem. I’d make it up on the run, which is my forte after all. I’ve completed over 50 marathons and was confident of breaking four hours.

That delusion lasted about three seconds. Getting off the bike I found I couldn’t stand up. My hamstrings had frozen. I hobbled hunch-backed into the changing tent, sat down and painfully changed into my running kit. I wasn’t about to let 15 weeks of training go to waste. But it was time for realigning my goals with the reality of the situation. I might not be able to run, but I could shuffle.

And shuffle I did. I’d expected to pull a few places back on the run. In fact over 400 runners and walkers went past me over the next six hours and I overtook none.

Bizarrely I had a great time. I joked with spectators, offered to buy a girl’s scooter and tried to borrow a policeman’s bike. I had great fun posing for people with camera although mostly they wanted pictures of someone else. It all ended too soon. I was actually disappointed when I rounded the final corner to see the finish line about 300 yards away even though my GPS told me that I still had one mile to go.

Still, running down the finishing chute just short of 14 hours after starting the swim was an amazing feeling.  The American commentator, who had managed to keep the crowds shouting and cheering for over six hours, welcomed me (and every other finisher) as if I were the most special person in the world at that exact moment. So what if missed qualifying for Kona by about four hours; I had the greatest time.

The last time I completed an Ironman was five years before Zac was born and he’s now nine. I hope it’s not so long before my next. And I’ll try to train for a little longer than 15 weeks.

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