Race day!!!

In a semi comatosed state I smother the alarm and calmly fill my bottles, glad that the big day is finally upon us.
Breakfast is a not a hive of activity, more a calm quiet preparation for battle. Sustenance is prepared depending on taste for the long bike leg. I make up a ham and cheese roll and wrap it in paper serviettes.
The bus is waiting outside at 5am on the dot to take us down to the village.
Several spectators have stoically made the effort to join competitors, and while I sit in my seat and the bus pulls away, I wonder if the folks are up and heading down to breakfast, so I give them a call and leave a message.
The city is barely stiring as we approach the lake, with the watery sun gaining power with every second.
We make our way to transition and begin to fill time until the start by, among other things, getting 'vassed' up. The nether regions were well lubricated before spectators began appearing, taking huge interest (and numerous photographs) in the proceedings.
The announcer gives us a running countdown to the start, and at 30 minutes to go, it's time to join the queues for (hopefully) the last comfort break of the day.
15 minutes to go and I wait by the huge inflatable Power Bar for the other CPTers as arranged, but only manage a last words of encouragement with Victor and Louise before heading down to the 'beach'. A competitor is being helped with his wetsuit by his mum and dad: a painful looking process, and tainted with a slight air of panic.
The announcer is now whipping himself into a frenzy, while we all try and work out where the first buoy is in the dazzling sunlight. I suddenly see Phil, cheery as ever, and hand shake and back slap over, it's goggles on, cap on and get ready for the gun.
Suddenly the world has turned into a cheesey wedding video. Not only have I managed to 'vass up' the essentials, but have also managed to lube the inside of my goggles. A romantic blur of the still grinning Phil is now all I see.
I leg it down to the waters edge to try and rinse them out. Unsurprising the vasseline repels the water beautifully, and I have act fast now if I'm going to stand a chance of seeing anything during the swim.
I approach the nearest, kindest looking spectator and quickly explain my dilemma. She digs around in her bag, and pulls out a woolen sock, with which I gratefully get to work on the goggles. Next comes a glasses case with which to buff. I'm saved! Blonde spectator: I am deeply grateful.
I enjoy the relief of being able to see the helicopter hover a few feet off the lake, as the countdown enters the final minute.
Phil offers a last bit of advice: start your stopwatch 10sec before the gun, then you know it's running; then the gun and we're all marching elbow to elbow into the glistening lake.
The air is a cachophony of rota blades, falling water, cheering and barked commentary.
We all enter the washing machine together and try and find some unoccupied water, the wetsuits make this bearable, keeping body boyant and immune from raking hands.

Approaching the first buoy, about 100 swimmers have cut in front of me and are now heading for the second mark.
I'm on the outside of them so it's impossible to cut through to round the buoy. There are a few swimmers around me looking at the buoy and the swimmers cutting the corner, and we make what seems like a collective decision to do the same.
We now have a lot more space and I'm starting to get a good rhythm going.
Having turned away from the sun, the next buoy is a visible target. To the left is a pleasure boat full of spectators.
There's a bottle-neck at the next mark, but I round it with inches to spare, watched by a marshall in a canoe. Why weren't there any of these at the first mark?
Heading back into shore now, and I seemed to have hit the local Bermuda triangle. Suddenly I'm about 20m off course, heading for a nice secluded waterfront cafe.
Back on track and I follow some feet for the remainder of the stretch towards the Island.
Before I know it the water shallows and we're bunching up as we claw our way under the bridge. Some people are standing, but I manage to make it without doing an impression of a creature from the blue lagoon.
Swimming out again into the sun - the long stretch to the first buoy - threading ourselves through moored yachts.
The second lap seems to fly by now I'm in a what I can modestly describe as 'my rythm'.
The last few strokes are performed in eager anticipation of the plastic non slip ramp, looming from the shore like a giant torquoise tongue.

Pre-race...

Nerves or excitementor excess energy prevented me from sleeping. Rooms in the basic Ibis were really warm. Good to be around Phil the veteran. Spent a long time checking and re-checking and re-checking the bike.
Bought some shorts at the expo, but decided not to wear them, remembering the sage words: don't use anything for the first time on the day.
Separate everything out into bags.
Race briefing 2pm. Going through rules, age group winners for Hawaii. etc. Apparently there was a guy doing 100km/hr down one of the hills the previous year on his tri bars and came off. There was a ban imposed for this year on tri bars down said hill. Another use for tri stearers, as they call them, was illustrated amusingly in a short film of last years event where an american girl had a clutch of polythene bags full of snacks looped over them which she had collected.

Friday night welcome party: Well organised. Huge hunting lodge. Wooden floor, ceiling, tables, chairs, enormous embossed sheilds. Welcome athletes from all the nationalities represented in their own languages. 4 course meal - salad, pasta, chicken, creme caramel, coffee.

Sat
Slept a few hours after a couple of beers at the welcome do. Adjusted seat and tri bars am and met Christa for lunch at midday.
Backe to hotel to meet Mum and Dad. Watched a bit of Wimbledon, fed and refreshed then came back down with bike for the England game
Rack bike at 19:30. Mange to get some air at the 11th hour.
Lift halfway back then find a good pasta restaurant with Phil and Brian - homemade ravioli.

Meanwhile Mum and Dad are at Christas having a great home cooked meal and some Swiss hospitality.

CPT Race...

After the Saturday swim work parties were organised to shift carpets the size of small countries for the transition area, set out the cones and generally prepare.
Had a two hour run in the evening through woods and along sodden bridleways, thick with glutenous mud. The shepherds would have been delighted with the sunset, which appeared as the clouds receded out to the west. Got back pretty exhausted but happy that I'd put the time in.

The race went really well for most. Two notable exceptions were a couple of guys gunning down the back straight who collided, just down from me, skidding excruciatingly along the grating tarmac. Brought back unpleasant memories. Dawn radioed for assistance a I fumbled through my first aid pack for the only two large bandages I had. A nurse turned up to help.

Mondays weather didn't look great. But 4 of us ended up heading out towards Penshurst and then on towards the coast before turning back through Edenbridge. Got caught in a huge hail storm which deluged for 15 minutes and sucked any small warmth from the air.

Tuesday was most definately a rest day.

Yesterday took part in the first SLSC Aquathon of a 4 part series. Very enjoyable despite the chilly water. Probably could have done without the socks in transition, but hey, how seriously are we taking this? Well, 6th would have been nicer than 7th. Time : 47:10.

Sunday ride

Man, this weather is the pits. See what we have to put up with in this country! A gap in the clouds permitted an al fresco beverage stop and the inauguaral meeting of the tea and toasted tea cake appreciation society (TTTCAS). People, this is true Ironman training!
Brian and I continued into the road spray for another 20 miles which probably ended up at around 80, a decent 5 hours in the saddle.
Training was disrupted due to a a job that came in over Monday night, but I did manage to run home on Tuesday and then again on Thursday.
The knee is constantly sore, so I've got to be careful pounding the pavements. The longer runs from now on are going to have to be x-country.
Any kind of plan has now gone out the window. I'm just doing what I can and turning up at the club sessions. Hopefully that'll see me through.

I like swimming

All these swim sessions have turned me into somewhat of an aquaphile. I used to worry about mouthfulls of tepid choking pool water, now it gets swallowed like a shot of Tequila, and probably does my insides about as good.
The knee has still been sore when on the bike and running and stiffening up after sitting, in fact it has felt buggered, but over the last few days, and this maybe to do with the prescription anti-inflamatories, the soreness has been much less. I hesitate when saying this. I do not want to tempt fate. I have to run consistently now, with some long sessions building up to the 3 hour target. It's been a worrying and increadibly frustrating couple of weeks, but dare I say it, Weymouth seems to be back on - now just over 2 weeks away.

The bad news... and the good!

Suspected tendonitis diagnosed over the phone with Claire the Osteo. Must have been brought on by the fall and probably not helped with the bike ride and the runs on a tender knee. This reminds me of the old joke,

'Doc, my knee hurts when I run and ride my bike.'
'Well don't run and ride your bike then!'

So I had two really good swim sessions with the club last week and a couple ofsessions in the gym staying off the feet. Swam today as well after weighing up the options of heading out on the bike. I know the knee wouldn't last, so it's pointless even trying. Looks like Weymouth is becoming less and less likely, and the more I think about it, the more it seems like a sensible thing to end my hopes of doing a half distance before the big one in the hope that the body will be fully recovered. The chances of aggrevating an injury over such a long distance would be high, and I can't afford to be that irresponsible.

The next two weeks will be a revelation.

The good news is my resting heart rate is 38 bpm, a sure sign of overall fitness. That's 2 above Paula Radcliffes in her prime.

120 mile ride

Saw the Osteo first thing and got some ultrasound on the knee and suction on the shoulder. Claire also showed me how to tape up my itb. She asked me to just ride to Brighton and not back, so I hearded out into the glare of the hottest day of the year so far, through the commuter congestion and out towards Westerham. From there on to Lingfield and the A22 around Uckfield. From there it was signs to Lewis with a little detour right to go over Ditchling beacon (no icecream at the top this time) and down into Brighton. 4hours after setting off I was devouring a baked potatoe with prwns and pineapple followed by lemon tart with raspberry coulie. Feeling slightly bloated I decided the knee was holding up well enough to make a start back. I could always get the train at Haywards Heath. No I couldn't, come on this is Ironman training. I knew I would cruise back if it killed me. The last hill was tough. My gearing is a little low, which may have to be changed before the big one. Anyway I made it back and jumped in the jacuzzi at the gym, stretched of the calves in the steam room and sat in the plunge pool for as long as I could. The membership fee is really worth it!