Lara Boyd - IM UK report
A year ago I bought my first road bike!
A week ago I finished my first Ironman!
In a year from now I might even finish another!
My Ironman story began in September 2007 when Steve and I devised a plan to spend the summer of 2008 in France . It had always been his dream to live in France and ride the mountain routes of the Tour. I was happy to share his dream. I was looking for any excuse out of work. It also seemed the perfect opportunity for him to complete the France Ironman in Nice..
Steve had already completed an Ironman before we met, and he is a cycling fanatic. It was inevitable that I would one day join him. I had already been coaxed with many holidays conveniently timed to watch the Tour de France and Giro d’Italia, and I have watched every stage of Lance’s 7 years on DVD, repeatedly.
Shortly after we married, it was even me who proposed the idea of purchasing a bike. So, with only a month of Saturdays riding experience in London ’s Richmond Park , I decided I was up for the challenge of a summer cycling in France. And why not add my own Ironman UK to the plan as well.
 It was utter madness! I had not even completed an Olympic distance triathlon before, or even ridden over 50km, and I had been practically inactive for 2 years, too focussed on spending 12 hour days at work, driving myself into depression that had only just resulted in 3 months unfit for work, spent at home in tears on the lounge. I was too embarrassed to tell anyone about my decision. I really was nuts! Dreaming of France and training for the Ironman was the catalyst for my recovery.
We spent a winter in London on the turbo trainer and the treadmill. Occasionally it would be dry enough to ride laps around Richmond or Regents Park . But, my first real road cycling experience was an Easter training week in Lanzarote in March 2008. I had no idea what to expect. It was all hills and wind. I didn’t enjoy it very much.
We completed the Paris marathon in April, and then spent a month boozing farewell before we set off for France in May. Steve would complete France Ironman in June and I would have 4 months to prepare for Ironman UK . It was perhaps thanks to the month of boozing that Steve made the last minute decision to do Ironman UK as well, fearing he did not have the ideal preparation 5 weeks out from Nice.
The France Ironman bike route has 1800m elevation, including a 21km climb. It would be great preparation for the climbs we had ahead in the Alps , but hell in an Ironman. Turn it up to 32 degrees and it becomes a very hard day out of the office. Steve was great. It was overwhelming watching him finish and I was full of pride. I was also now full of fear!
Our route then took us to Lake Annecy and the Alps . In July, in Annecy I completed my first Olympic distance triathlon. We then joined the crowds on Alpe d’Huez to watch the pivotal stage of the Tour. We then climbed the beast ourselves in the Alpe d’Huez short distance triathlon, what would be my second Olympic-ish distance triathlon. Over July and August we climbed a dozen other Cols of Tour fame. Mt Ventoux was the last mountain we would climb before Ironman UK .
It had all been about cycling, and most of that was in the mountains, so I had little experience on the flat or time trialling, or against the wind. I did what I considered was way too little run training for this event, I had only one run over 20km since the Paris marathon in April, and I had really only focussed on swimming in the last 2 months. Despite all the biking, generally I did not feel well prepared.
We returned to the UK a few days ahead of Ironman, to be welcomed by gale force winds, torrential rain and floods. It was not enough that the Ironman UK bike course includes 2100m of elevation, and the run another 600m. The gods had decided to add wind and rain..
I was not my usual bundle of stress in the days before the event. I had somehow accepted my fate and I was an unbelievable image of calm. And, then the morning of Sunday 7th September 2008 arrived.
It was a very dark, cold and windy morning. My wetsuit provided warmth from the elements, until it was time to enter the lake. The lake of Sherborne Castle is not only the muddiest, but on that day also the coldest I have ever encountered, including one at altitude. There was a 200m swim to the deepwater start line, where we were held for about 15 minutes to ensure we were well frozen for the start, until finally the carnage commenced.
I didn’t have a great swim. I had managed to stay calm and focussed in my previous mass open water swim experiences, but today I found myself panicking and struggled to settle into rhythm. I seemed permanently stuck between these burly men, all motor, thrashing arms and legs, but no go. I was getting hammered from every angle. For the first of two laps, I seemed to mimic their style until settling into a more comfortable rhythm in the second when I found some space on my own. Then with about 800m to go I pulled up with a cramp and my panic returned until the finish when the longest swim of my life was over and I was overjoyed.
My transition to bike was slow. There was just so much extra clothing required on this miserable day, and to add to that, I lost my sunglasses in the change tent and went around in circles trying to find them. Accepting their loss, I commenced what was to be a very difficult ride.
The bike course was three 60km laps of hills totalling 2100m elevation and gale force winds. Despite the layers, I was cold and I never did warm up. I was smashing it on the bike and stayed at that intensity all day. After only 30km I was already nervous I had gone out too hard, but in these conditions I just had to go hard if I had any hope of finishing the bike in under 7 hours. I also had little idea of what sort of time to expect when I hadn’t trained on either this terrain or in these conditions, and there was this strong wind on every part of the course. When I finished the first lap 15 minutes slower than target I reminded myself that the main goal was to finish.
Something hit my eye during the first lap, and after half an hour on the move trying to flush it out unsuccessfully, I decided it must have been a speck of rock or glass and accepted the irritation and blurred vision for the rest of the day.
I had experienced digestive issues in training, usually on the run, and anticipated problems later in the day, but I really did not expect it to start on lap one of the bike. I spent the hours on the bike debating when, where and how I would alleviate the ensuing diarrhoea. The combination of the weather conditions and cramping was torture. I just could not wait to get off that bike. My body took over the decision making and after a toilet stop on the final lap I was on fire and just wished I had stopped sooner. I was up out of the seat flying up the last few hills and then inside 10km to go, I suddenly realised I was actually going to get through this.
 I started the run on a high and with a smile. The run course was equally ugly, three 14km laps, with 600m elevation overall. Each lap was split into two 7km sections, one through the castle grounds like a cross country course: muddy, hilly and seriously hard, and the second half through town, and although not muddy, was still hilly and hard.
Steve and I crossed paths as I started my first lap and it was a relief to each of us to see the other. I would later find out that Steve had been having a really bad day and a real mental struggle. His heart had never been in it and I think he was only doing this Ironman for me. He had been praying for a mechanical failure on the bike to provide an excuse out of the event.
I’m surprised we didn’t cross paths a few more times on the run during both of our regular toilet stops!
I was very lucky on the run and managed to stay positive almost throughout, despite a few stops. Even on their first lap there were many people walking, and of the runners, generally I seemed to be going faster than most. My mantra became “keep up the rhythm, keep up the smile”, one I repeated for the entire 4 hours. I thought if I looked like I was enjoying it, then maybe I actually would. The crowd support and even that of other competitors was overwhelming. I received a lot of cheers partly because I was moving faster than most around me, (I still only ran 4.25, but I managed to make up a 200 hundred places on the run) and partly because I was perhaps one of the only ones smiling. Later I’m sure it became a grimace.
There was every chance that my body could still crumble once I hit that 18mile mark, but I was determined to smile and will my way to 26miles and that finish line. And somehow I finally did hit that finish line. It was the most amazing feeling of my life.
The cheers in that final stretch, the crowd going mad, my name over the loudspeaker, and “You are an Ironman”. Those immortal words you are longing to hear all day. I will never forget it. It brings tears remembering.
In the moments afterwards I was heard saying “I never want to do that again”. In the days that followed how quickly I would forget..
I am now looking for my next Ironman event. Only this time, maybe something without hills and without wind. Something dead flat like Florida or WA, and with appropriate time trialling training.
Ironman UK really was a tough day out. On winning, Stephen Bayliss compared the event to Ironman Lanzarote, and even only having visited there once, I am going to agree. There were only 13 competitors who finished in under 10 hours, compared with 50 in the previous year, and for further comparison over 100 at Port Macquarie. This was Steve’s third Ironman and definitely his hardest. It was certainly the hardest thing I have ever done in my life so far.
I am just so overwhelmed and can hardly believe that I even managed to get through it and finish.
So, what’s next after France and Ironman UK ? I guess there will be a few more bike trips to come, perhaps a half ironman, or maybe a full. First we have to get through another London winter before returning to France for Lance’s 8th tour!
Just when I thought it was all over!
Lara checks in from France
Lara Haume and the final climb!
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