Scarab Tri

Race Reports

Transition Training Report, 18th April 2010 - Andrew Turner
Llandudno Sea Triathlon Standard, 11th July 2010 - Paul Sanders
Llandudno Sea Triathlon Standard, 11th July 2010 - Simon Clapham

Transition Training Report, 18th April 2010 - Andrew Turner 

What better way to spend your Sunday afternoons. No not in front of the cosy fire, or in the pub but in a car park in Wilmslow learning how to get on and off your bike fast but safely (the word safely maybe this word should not be used for some of the participants, they know who they are!!!)

For many the Wilmslow Tri in May would be their first venture into this highly spirited sport (not like golf, there’s no 19th hole here! Just a power bar!)

The afternoon got off to a great start with a nice gentle warm up and then a bit of running in your bike shoes (this can be like skating on ice!)

It then progressed to how to lay out your kit in the transition area (I wonder how this went on, on the day – normally I have a full English breakfast in transition, well going by my times anyway!)

The mounting and dismounting of the bike, after what I thought was a good clear demonstration (given by myself of course), Ian then went on to show me how it was done properly (boy this guy was quick, but if he ever missed! ....... ouch!)

Talking of Ouch, several of the group did manage to go over the handle bars during this practice session (I don’t know how, my demo was clear, so glad they signed the insurance waver!!!! Where theirs blame, theirs a claim and all that!!!)

To finish the session off, a couple of short transition races were held, talk about competitive spirit and all that, I’m so glad I was coaching and not taking part or I would have been last!!

Anyway take a look at the photos.....

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Llandudno Sea Triathlon Standard, 11th July 2010 - Paul Sanders 

Allegedly this was to be my season 2010 'A' race, however it quickly became a finish at any cost race! It all started off really well on the Saturday when Jo kindly gave me two Ibuprofen when I turned up to register to help with the sciatic pain I had been struggling with all week and particularly on Saturday (disclaimer – I am not using this as an excuse for my race time/performance). Jo also vouched for my identity at registration as I have no id at the minute due to a lost wallet...

Anyways off back to the caravan and an early night before up and into transition with plenty of time to spare before the race start. The wind was up and the sea was beginning to get lively but the sun was starting to shine and it was going to be a great day. When setting up it quickly became apparent that all of the Scarab's were in the same vicinity and so it was with great camaraderie that we all pulled on our wetsuits, with everyone turning down my offer of lube – for the wetsuit Simon...and off on the walk down to the swim start. It was upon arrival that I needed to visit the toilet for the fourth time that hour and was struck by the comical scene being played out in the men's facilities. Various triathletes of all different shapes and sizes jostling with wetsuits and tri suits in order to...well you know what I mean. So it was with a relaxed air that we listened to the briefing and, as aforementioned by Simon, was all in to the sea first.

As the whistle sounded to signal the beginning of proceedings I set off and at once tried to get up some sort of rhythm. Impossible. My plan was to find clear water away from other swimmers, thus further out from shore, in order to get comfortable. Forget it. The first few minutes consisted of a mixture between head up front crawl and breaststroke. However, soon I found some sort of 'rhythm', the type of momentum you build up during a head on car crash, and was on my way, head down and get cracking. It was after a few minutes of this that I became aware of a presence with me, looking up I saw that it was a breathless kayaker apparently recovering from paddling out to me to prevent me swimming to Ireland! When I remembered the golden rule of open water swimming – sighting, I realised I was approx 300 metres out to sea and that most of the other competitors were around 100 metres out. Luckily my kayak was shortly joined by a second and between them I was shepherded back to the exit point. Now I did actually see this buoy and noticed that there was a swimmer turning at the same point as me towards shore, he/she (obviously I cannot be sure we all had pink hats on) around 100 metres out, me around 200 metres out. Game on. Sprint finish to the slipway where I triumphantly climbed out ahead of him/her.

A decent T1 meant that I was out on the bike leg pretty quickly and was struck by the amount of people supporting all of the competitors. Directly in front of my bike rack was an elderly lady and a young boy leaning over the railings to get a good look, if he has been inspired by what he saw then fantastic. I think everyone should do this race, with hundreds of spectators watching it's as close as I'll ever come to pro racing. It was a shame then that I had to apologise to him as I unhooked my bike and hit him on the knee (they were that close!).

Onto the four lap bike leg and again I found myself laughing at the whole arrangement. After whizzing out of T1 at pace (as I'm sure everyone else did) you were quickly bought down to earth as you began the first climb and speeds dropped to around 15 klicks an hour. Happily I was overtaking people here who had beaten me out of the swim but due to the gradient you found yourself really close to other competitors for quite a while as you passed so it would have almost been rude not to chat to them! Still full of boundless energy and adrenaline I called out to everyone if anybody fancied a 10k run later. I think they were all up for it. Coming down the other side was AWESOME. I got up to the high 60kmph's and felt like whooping every time I descended the Orme. Down on to the tri bars for the 'TT' section and a quick zig zag through the town centre before proceeding onto the next loop. Hello and well done to number 9 who beat me on the climbs but let me drop her on the descents (then she dropped me on the run) and a w***** to the driver of the black Merc who turned left in front of six speeding cyclists which nearly had me in his boot and another in his passenger seat!!!! Into to T2, feet out of shoes, down onto tri bars, look good for the crowds...

Coming out onto the run I ran stride for stride with a guy running in remembrance of his friend who had succumbed to cancer recently, hat's off to you sir. We had a little chat about how mad we were, how much it hurt and that hopefully things will feel better soon before we drunkenly ran down the promenade bumping into each other occasionally. I felt like Alistair Brownlee squaring up to Javier Gomez until after 50 metres when he dropped me! Really need to work on my running! The sprint turnaround at 2.5k seemed to come up really quickly, up over the hill (quads burning now) and down to Rhos on Sea for the turnaround at 5k, or was that 10k? Coming up the hill for the first time I was pleased to see Simon and was able to pass and was close enough to hear him curse the heavens as he saw the descent at the other side and realised that we were running back up this soon! At the turnaround I was told to "suck it up, dig deep and that there was only one more hill to go." By a young girl. Thanks for that – you do it then. And hit the slight gradient up through the drinks station (where another young girl nearly took me out with a WWE like 'closeline' as she leant over my 'race line' to pass a drink to another runner) and back onto the hill where I was forced to walk. At this point it became a matter of finishing as my quads finally gave out and cramped up big time. At the top of the hill I let out a Teen Wolf stylie cry of frustration.

"You alright mate?" one runner asked.

"Yeah just cramp" I answered and considered the option of a sorry walk back to the finish, the Great Orme had clearly taken its toll.

Looking back I could not see Simon and thought he would probably be walking too (no offence Si) this gave me a little hope. As long as I could hold off Simon. On the back of the hill he caught me and encouraged me on. Thank you Simon, if you hadn't forced me on I would have walked all the way back...So I 'dropped' Simon (sort of) and shuffled up over the wheelchair access (another hill!) back onto the promenade and was content to shuffle home. Halfway to the finish I was offered and gratefully received some "power juice" (his words not mine) from a fellow competitor and off to the finish. Or so I thought. Simon caught up, mocked me and instigated a sprint finish, thanks again Simon! Happy to say I pipped him at the post.

My son must be so proud to know I out sprinted a 50 something!

All in all I loved it although my 2:40 target was soon blown out of the water. I'll be back next year and will almost certainly get some hill training under my belt, Bramhall Parkrun is not enough!!! Everyone, do this race, it's not quick, it's not clever but boy it's good fun! Oh and after a conversation with my brother-in-law on Monday asking how I got on and still feeling like I have been sat on by an elephant, he has talked me into doing a duathlon this Sunday, now where's that recovery shake...

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Llandudno Sea Triathlon Standard, 11th July 2010 - Simon Clapham 

Well it was back to Llandudno again to repeat my favourite swim. I was really looking forward to getting back in the sea, riding up the Great Orme 4 times and running up the Little Orme not so much.

The weather was warm but a little to breezy for my liking and of course coming straight down the slope of the Orme into our faces. The sea appeared calmer than last time, no white horses to be seen.

Ralph and I drove up together, both having been "encouraged" by our better halves not to do the journey twice by registering, as we were supposed to on Saturday, so it was Emergency Sunday morning registration for us.

Bikes racked, we headed off for the mile walk back to the swim start along the prom, past the huge queue waiting to enter transition, realising that there was no way that the race was going to start on time.

Wetsuits glued on, the race briefing next, the usual stuff: if you drown lie on your back with your arm raised ( and scream), don't get killed on the Orme by hitting the loose scree or potholes at 40 -50 miles per hour, try not to have a heart attack running up the little Orme, blah,blah, blah….

Then actually into the water: a minor claim to fame here, the four Scarabs being first into the water, I was going to try to do a Fantastic Four thing but soon realised that one of us would have to be the Invisible Girl and one TheThing so I decided not to go there. Anyway Ralph and Paul seemed quite happy in the swell doing otter impressions lying on there backs. We had quite a wait while all the competitors were counted into the water, this gave me time to gauge the current which apparently helps on the swim. I reckon that it works out at about a meter or so per minute; as I had drifted about 10 mts past the start line in 10 minutes. So it should shorten the course by about 30 mts. However the start line appeared to be about 30mts further back than last time.

I actually heard the start this time and off we went for my favourite baby roller coaster ride. I was mistaken about the sea being calmer, there weren't any white horses but the swell seemed bigger. I love it, it's like swimming and Alton Towers rolled into one. All going "swimmingly" until near the end when I thought that my navigation skills had gone seriously astray, I felt seaweed wrap around both feet, a few good kicks and it was gone and I seemed to still be well out to sea. About 30 seconds later I was wondering when nettles started growing in salt water, swiftly followed by " Oh Crap" jellyfish.

Again the only buoy I spotted was the final yellow turn buoy and I exited tout suite, whilst wondering whether my feet might swell up from jellyfish stings and managed to jog straight past my bike, after wandering about for some considerable time ( 2 minutes) like a drunk searching for his last whisky bottle, I eventually found said bike. I have 3 very good excuses; 1/ I am blind as a bat. 2/ I was jellyfish distracted 3/ Most importantly, I seem to swim faster in the sea, everyone else seems to swim slower, so usually when I go looking for my bike it is standing alone waiting for me to find, at Llandudno it was buried amongst a pile of "boring lake swimming" competitors bikes, making it hard to find.

So eventually I set off up the Great Orme, thinking " I don't see what's so great about it". About a minute up the first climb Ralph came flying past, this was great news, it meant that I had done a faster swim, unless he was on his second lap,

Bugger ! It turned out it was his first lap, goody for me. Hamish overtook me on the beginning of my third lap on his last, with his usual encouraging " Come on old man".

Those of you who have ridden with me know that I am to hill climbing what Jeremy Clarkson is to diplomacy, basically I suck. So dragging my aging butt to the top of the Orme is not fun, however coming down again is a different matter. I don't know what all the people I was overtaking are thinking, it's simple, Lie on your handlebars, steer round the corners and try not to die, get up to 70 kph and make

"Weee" noises, repeat 4 times and finish smiling.

So off on the "run", no sign of Paul yet so either he had a great swim and is in front of me or is closing fast. Jogging painfully along the promenade realising that climbing hills on the bike makes me an even worse runner, watching all the people I overtook on the bike passing me and disappearing into the distance, including Paul about 5 minutes in.

How can I describe how much I like running; lets say that as sore as my feet were from the "seaweed", I would rather have kissed said jellyfish, than run up the little Orme. After the longest 5k in the history of mankind , I think we were somewhere near Chester, I headed for home. I must admit that I walked up the hill coming back, however in my defence the guy in front who was running, gained a whole 30 mts, so I can live with that. As I crested the hill, who should be limping down the other side but my good friend Paul. Now I have a dilemma, do I do the competitor thing and run past with a cry of "Tough luck mate" or put on my coaches hat and try to offer assistance. With both my quads totally seized I must say it was a close call.

I drew alongside and came up with the classic " Come on Paul, Pain doesn't hurt". Actually it does, as I well knew but it seemed to do the trick as he started running again. In fact it worked so well that he started running away from me again, Bugger.

So on I plodded eventually reaching the promenade and even with my Bat sight could see he finish flags. I could also see Paul who seemed to be slowing again. I don't know if I had Jellyfish poisoning and sunstroke but I decided that I could catch him. Unbelievably with about 50m to go I did. Now a smart person would have swung wide, sneaked past and surprised him and won. What I did was draw up to his shoulder say " Is that all you've got" and instigate a "sprint " finish at the end of 10k.

What was the result you might ask, Paul's time 3.13.03. Simon's time 3.13.05. Again Bugger.

So how did the other two get on. Well Hamish got a fantastic 12th place with his usual strong swim – bike and a quickly improving run. Ralph was disappointed with his race despite a rock solid bike and run he was unhappy with his swim. It seems Ralph is not a big fan of the Alton Towers swim, he much prefers to see where he is going and breathe without swallowing half the Atlantic Ocean, "Go Figure". Consequently Ralph decided breastroke was the best option, personally I think doing 31 minutes for 1500m of breastroke is not too shabby.

I have not mentioned our other Scarab warrior, Laurence, who decided in his rookie season to go for the Sprint distance, not a bad decision when he managed an awesome 12th place. Well done Laurence.

So Scarabs in the top 15 of both races, well done boys, keep "Boosting the Beetle "

I have concluded that I have developed a serious Love – Hate relationship with Llandudno Tri and as the pain recedes next year beckons.

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