My wave start
Stress Factors: Day 1
Eton Sprints Weekend: Saturday May 18th + Sunday May 19th
2019
It was a weekend that we had
both looked forward to, and also an event that we had done a number of times in
previous years. The venue is Eton
Dorney Lake
that was the site for the 2012 Olympic rowing events.
I use the weekend as a chance
to put in an event of identical sprint distance two days running and hope to
have results that are very similar, using it as sound training for longer
events. The course it almost completely flat for the four laps of the 20 km
bike course that on my bike computer showed just over 13 miles. That, on an
outer road closed to traffic taking an anti clockwise direction. Then, a 5km
run course that is a bit of a head banger being dead straight along side the
rowing lake curving only at the far end to make up the distance. It is the most
spectator friendly event, where it is possible to see the swim, bike and run
watching from roughly the same position. There is also a comfortable terrace on
the first floor of the boat house where spectators can overlook the whole of
the transition area and the swim course.
Steve and I drove upon Friday
afternoon. We had planned to leave early that morning but a nasty deep cut on
Steve’s shin, sustained two weeks earlier when he slipped off the back of his
truck, suddenly turned nasty and erupted like a tiny volcano. A visit to the
surgery was necessary where we were told that the wound had become infected.
That was the end of Steve’s plans to race as he collected a course of
anti-biotics and pile of large dressings from the chemist.
On race morning I had taken
the brand new wetsuit that I had been given by a sponsor. I had only tried it
on once and thought it was rather small but on talking to the manufacturer they
insisted that that WAS the size I needed, even though at the first attempt wearing
only my undies, it took thirty minutes to get on and being alone at the time, I
had not attempted to do the zip up. I was not convinced that it was the right
size and so I also took my existing five years older wetsuit in case the new one
split under the strain, considering that I was a few pounds heavier after a
spell with a chest infection when I had abandoned my diet!
With both Steve and I working
together it and having my cycle shirt and padded bike shorts on to race in, it
took 45 minutes to get on, we both had to admit that it was very stretchy but
even so there are limits. I had not had much difficultly in getting my legs in
and pulled the suit up over my bottom. It then became very hard to squeeze my
ample bosom and wide swimmers shoulders inside the top half. All stretch seemed
to have reached the limit. When I buy clothing I buy women’s size 12 jeans and
trousers but size 14-16 shirts and tops.
Finally I was in. Steve could not manage even to begin to close
the zip and it was most uncomfortable and very quickly I realised that there
was no way I would be able to swim in it since I could not even breathe in it. All
the stretch was exhausted and I was huffing and puffing close to panic with my
bust pressed tight to my chest as we started to peel in slowly off.
Thankfully my old wettie went
on easily over the race kit. Still, I had got into a bit of a stew to say the
least, doing a last minute change before darting to the swim start still
breathing heavily, and my deltoids muscles aching from the tension of trying to
work myself into the new suit. The usual calm pre-race period where I focus on
the course and prepare myself mentally for the event was totally missed with
the hassle of the wetsuit saga. The moral of the story here is to take practice
sessions before trying any new equipment. After nearly thirty years in this
wonderful sport, I should know that rule, should I not. Like the Cub Scouts,
Brownies and Guides are taught; be prepared.
As the claxon went off I
still breathing heavily from the rush and talked to myself, trying to calm down
and just take the swim at warm up pace, really slowly.
However I did get through the
750 mtr swim, three side of simple rectangle clearly marked with giant orange
buoys and a large arch finish marker to aim for. It was a relief to finish the
swim and that was a shame since the swim generally feels like a warm up event
for me.
Once out on the bike I was
happy, and the four laps were most enjoyable; such a lovely location and very
well marshaled at every turn and loads of encouraging spectators. Once out on
the run, I am reminded that I am not twenty one any more and neither am I a
stick insect. This is the part of the
race where I do feel my age a little more these days; there is no denying that.
How I cope with this is with plain common sense. I take it a little easier that
I used to and I have a tried and tested method for that.
I keep a pace that does not
raise my heart rate to bursting point, and generally jog/walk my way through. I
can truthfully tell any beginners that if you do this whilst you build you
running up; you will not be the only ones slowing to walk a little before
starting to run again. So that is my system. I leave pushing myself to the
‘lights out limit’ to the younger folks. Nothing left for me to prove.
On the Dorney Lake
5km course; I ran counting 60 strikes of my right foot and then walked 30
strikes. I repeated that all the way to the turn point and then on the way back
finding that I was feeling comfortable, increased that to 110-120 strides jog
and 30 strides walk and that got me to the finish in a time that I was happy
with, and that compared favourably to my normal weekend longer training run that
is hilly. This was as flat as a pancake.
Alice with the tri-bars
Stress Factors: Day 2
The second day was different
from the start. My Husband/Coach/Rock/ Best Friend had to leave for a work trip
to Chartres in France with an Australian client
that he was couriering. As she bought a container full of antiques, he would
load and bring her purchases back to the UK to pack and ship.
So he dropped me at Eton Dorney
Lake at 6.30 am and left
me to fend for myself. My advantage is that I know loads of people, most of the
marshal’s and some of the Technical officials too. So I made my way into the
registration tent whilst they busied themselves setting up for a very long day
with roughly 1300 athletes to deal with after 900 the day before. I sat myself
quietly in a corner telling them that it was too cold for me to just stand
around outside. I call this ‘My little old lady act’. I don’t pull this one
that often but in truth, I do get quite cold even on nice summer days in the
early mornings and this day was cooler that the day before, overcast and
threatening rain.
The registration did not open
until 7.15 am and I was first because I was inside the tent and not queuing
outside. Once I had my number stickers on my helmet and bike I walked along to
transition where I thought I could set myself up quickly and come out to meet a
young man who I had promised to do a video interview with for the Wiggle Sports
Blog before the race. ‘No problem’ I had told him by email.
As I went to enter the
transition I was immediately stopped and told that I could not race on that bike
because this was a drafting race and tri-bars were not permitted. There was a
discussion. After that I was told to leave and that I could not race unless the
tri-bars were removed. I knew there was a bike stand that was hiring out bikes
for first timers to do the event with on a day hire basis, so that was where I
made for.
The mechanic there did agree
to take the bars off for me and hoiked my bike, who I call Alice,
up onto a work frame and soon had Alice
fit to go. Off I went back to transition.
Stop! Called the voice of a
technical official. My bike was still not right. I should have standard handle
bars with drops. Alice does not have drops. I have never used
the drops.
I have had a handful of
racing bikes over the years and all the drops have been removed.
Also, the race that this was
a qualifier for; is not actually a
drafting race.
At this point there was a lot
more discussion. Then a photo was taken of my handle bars and sent for top
level consideration. Telephone calls were made. It all took a very long time.
Meanwhile the poor Videotographer waited…… and waited.
When eventually I was told
that I could rack my bike and race; I
hurried to set up my transition spot. I suggested to the video man that he made
his way to the other end of the transition zone near the swim start and I could
speak to him there before my swim start.
When I got there in my
wetsuit, holding my goggles and swim hat. He was nowhere to be seen. By this
point; I had got up at 5am, had arrived at 6.30am and spent a lot of time
sorting out my problems. Rules are Rules. I had not had a cup of coffee and
more importantly I had not made the usual several trips to the toilet. I had a
full bladder. This may well come under the too much information heading but I
was not able to relieve my bladder until I was standing on grass in my wetsuit
in the swim wave pen, waiting for my wave start! To be truthful this is not
unknown and I would not be the only person taking a last minute leak.
The rest of my race was fine
and my total time was slightly faster that the day before with less than a
minute difference.
I rushed to get dressed and
waited to see if the video guy was still around. I waited an hour until my taxi
arrived to take me home. The crossed wires were discussed politely by email
later. No cross words. He told me that they would not allow him to go through
transition, well of course not. Had he known the venue, he could have walked
around the other side on the boat house building along a grass bank as people
who want to take photos always do but that was not his fault.
The moral of this story is to
stay cool. Be reasonable and pleasant at all times. Much more is achieved with
honey than with vinegar. Never lose your temper in these stressful situations.
Keep you head on straight. Never, never, never lose your rag or you are lost.
Stress factor
A good day can go
seriously wrong
Your heart plunges as
you see it happen.
Try to remember who
sang that old song
that went ‘Like the sound of one hand clappin'.
that went ‘Like the sound of one hand clappin'.
A situation out of
your control
Stay present for
yourself and keep your cool
Yes; it was Dylan and
not rock and roll
Lyrics in your head
don’t make you a fool.
Smile on and use logic
not wild fury
This is not the time
to rise to the bait
It’s just a hiccough
not a grand jury
Don’t change into someone
they start hate
Loose your temper and
any chance is lost
Work for the outcome
or you pay the cost.
