I am an Outlaw!!

I am sat here still buzzing with a smile on my face, knowing I am one of the tiny percentage of people who have completed an Ironman distance triathlon, and what a few days it has been.

Day Before

After struggling with illness the week before, I had a great nights sleep on the Friday night and woke up feeling half human. I packed the car, said my temporary goodbyes, and headed down to Nottingham to register and rack the bike.

After all the hassle with the logistics around the Staffs 70.3, the organisation and layout for the Outlaw were top notch. Although the nerves had set in, my legs were finally feeling better, and small amount of confidence returned. I went out for a meal with Ben, James and Joe who were all racing, and then back to the hotel for the expected fitful sleep of a condemned man.

Pre-Race

The alarm went off at 03.10 and I felt half-human considering the time. We all went down to the lobby to eat, and then made our way to the venue.

I checked the bike, and decided to borrow a track pump. Unfortunately, the valve on the rear wheel didn’t stick out much from the deep rim, and I only succeeded in letting all the air out. In a state of panic, I also wasted a CO2 canister, until finally I was able to borrow another track pump that somehow attached to the valve and could reinflate the tyre. Phew … a major panic over.

Finally, I went back to the change tent and got into the wetsuit. This was the point of no return and I was committed (though looking a little apprehensive)

The Swim

I set myself up at the front of pen 3 (target time 80 – 100 minutes). When the horn went off, I spent the first few seconds trying to start my stopwatch, which for some reason wasn’t working. I quickly decided to give up and just swim. The first 10-15 minutes were the most bumpy I had experienced in any triathlon. I got punched twice, and had my goggles kicked off, none of which I’d experienced before. The crucial thing was that I just kept plodding on and didn’t let it affect me.

It seemed to take an age to get up to the turn around point. I kept encouraging myself to keep going, and telling myself that this was it. Just reaching the top of the lake was a big psychological boost, and the return leg seemed quicker. I was definitely overtaking a number of people in the last quarter.

I came out of the water with an official split of 1:16:31. I couldn’t believe it. I was expecting to swim around 1:25, though I knew the swimming had improved out of all recognition the past two months. I also had no cramps, swam front crawl the entire way around, and felt good.

Transition

Normally, I wouldn’t include anything about transition, but this was the second race in a row I messed up. I grabbed my transition bag and got changed in the tent. I ran out of the tent to my bike, but as I got there, I realised that I had left my number behind. I went back to the tent and searched around, but with no luck. In a panic I spoke to a marshall, who pointed me to a race official. Basically, what had happened is I had left my race number in the transition bag, which was now in the back of a van being sorted. The race official was great. He said he would let me go out on the bike, and would look to retrieve my number and put it in my run bag. I’d wasted quite a few minutes, but at least I was good to go.

The Bike

Ultimately, the bike was uneventful. I settled into a steady pace, and just concentrated on ticking off the kilometers. I was so worried about blowing up at some point, and I wanted to keep something in reserve for the run, that I rode well within myself. I focused on eating and drinking and trying to make sure I kept hydrated. The rain held off till towards the end of the bike, but then the heavens opened. It really was a miserable last hour making my way back, but the thought of the bike being over kept me going. It’s only in hindsight that I realised I had no saddle soreness at all on the whole ride. I think the TT bike puts me in a more forward position that just suits me better. Saddle soreness was something I was really worried about, but it never crossed my mind on the day.

In the end, I came into T2 with an official split of 5:42:07. This was a decent solid split without being spectacular.

The Run

For someone who had previously run 9 marathons, it seemed strange that the run was the part I was most worried about. I had done some decent long runs in training, but none of them straight off a long bike. I guess this was always going to be the real journey into the unknown.

I set off at just under 5 min/km pace and felt comfortable. I knew this almost certainly wouldn’t be sustainable, but I figured it was best to get some miles in the bank and worry about what would happen later. I took the strategy of walking each feed station (approx every 1.5 miles) as a way of getting a short recovery.

The first 5km went quickly in sub-25 minutes, but the pace was already starting to slow. I didn’t mind, and I definitely didn’t want to force the pace. The first 10km went in around 51 minutes which I was delighted with, and I ended up going through halfway in around 1 hours 50 minutes, though the pace was already around 5.30 min/km. This kept going up until by 32km I was pushing 6 min/km. My quads were on fire at this stage, and it was a case of just surviving. It was also somewhere between halfway and 32km that I started to think about finish times. I knew I was comfortably on track for sub 11.30, but I couldn’t afford to blow up.

I started walking slightly longer at the feed stations, and the run which had turned to a jog was now a shuffle. It was a case of doing whatever I could to keep moving. I had two stops with stomach issues, but this wasn’t getting any worse. By the time I started the final lap of the lake I was telling myself to just enjoy this. I didn’t care about the pain at this stage. Somehow, I managed to pick the pace up slightly over the last couple of km’s by not stopping at the feed stations, and before I knew it, I was coming down into the finisher’s chute. Niamh passed Cian to me, who decided he didn’t want to run down the red carpet. Still, I picked him up and held him close, and doing my best to keep emotions in check, I stumbled through the tape with the announcer confirming over the tannoy that … “Matthew Lewis, you are an Outlaw!”

My official run split was 3:55:56, a time I thought I could only dream of. My official finish time was 11:11:11. For someone who’s birthday is 11.11 there is something weird and magical in that.