Is this the Col de l'Ecre?

Ironman France arrives.

The nerves only emerged when we were nearing the starting point on the Promenade des Anglais at 5.30 am, looking out to sea. Neither The Editor nor I could see the buoys marking the first loop of the swim. Nor could the other 100 fellow entrants who were also gesticulating out to see. That meant it was going to be a very long way. Photographs taken of us just before we entered the preparation area indicate that the nerves hadn't abated by that point.

The first leg of the swim was like fighting your way through a fish farm. 2600 swimmers in a very small area of sea leads to a lot of slapping and kicking and hitting. Quite possibly some deliberate punching too, judging by how I was feeling. Every now and then you are sardined together with someone of similar stroke, like the swimming equivalent of a three legged race. You have to breathe to the other side to avoid getting your goggles whacked off. Occasionally, and randomly throughout the first swim loop, with less than 5 or 10 seconds warning, I spotted "the manic perpendicular swimmer" who for whatever reason hasn't looked where they should be going and would charge at you from the side. Since you can't afford to stop and waste time, you just have to continue swimming strongly and brace for the crash. These tangential kamikazes soon stop to reassess their current course immediately after impact. The first loop acted as a performance filter, allowing the second loop to be performed amongst peers; altogether a much more pleasant experience.

But it was shortly into the bike leg that I found out the organisers had lied to us.

The French idea of "flat" is very different from my own. I had been expecting a bit of a tough hill to cycle up at the 50km marker that would last for about 20km. Instead the climb began at the 20km marker and lasted for over 50km. After 30km, I asked anyone who would listen if this was the Col de l'Ecre. Not many listened, which is just as well really, as I was much better off not knowing that we hadn't even reached the start of the real climb.

I now know what it feels like to cycle uphill continuously for longer than all bar three of my entire training cycle rides. When you try to explain to Average Joe that this uphill was further than their 45 minute car commute to work, they just don't get it. And then we had 110km to go before the 42km marathon run. If you stopped to think about that during the cycle, you would end up sitting down and waiting for the sweeper bus to collect you as it made the last round of the course.

But what goes up must come down. And quite quickly too. Having the "advantage" of a perfectly average 16% body fat (as opposed to The Editor's 6%), the return part of the bike is dispensed with very quickly, and without a huge effort. This is truly gravity in action. It's annoying that about 12% of my body fat hangs around my midriff, although it helped me return to transition with the clock showing only 8 hours and 1 minute.

And so to the run. My overriding thought, right from the very first step, was to just make it to the next aid station, 1.7km away. It became apparent quite early that there was a lot of farting going on. Unusually for me, I'd already de-winded during the bike leg, so I didn't have much left to give. The other runners weren't holding back, though. Presumably they had been drinking too much of the not-so-flat flat coke that was on offer.

I'm usually a genteel chap, but it was quite heartening to be running past others who were walking and limping their way around the course. Under normal circumstances, I would rush to help someone whom I'd just watched collapse on the road ahead. But during Ironman, you just keep rushing on by. A stretcher will appear soon enough to whisk them away to a re-hydrating drip. In fact, the only time I came to a standstill on the run was at "Pishy corner", the slightly sheltered section of the run that everyone, boys and girls, decided to convert to an outdoor ablution area. I never believed a woman could pee standing up until I witnessed the same.

There were a number of noteworthy experiences that took place during the run. Knowing I would finish, despite hitting the wall after running 13 miles, with another 13 still to go on badly blistered feet. Not getting out of breath at any point, although that's what endurance training is all about. Being heartened and motivated by the cheering of complete strangers. Surprised that my body could accept yet another energy drink and carbohydrate gel right to the end. But mainly amazing myself that I had enough energy left to sprint the last 2km.

That last statement means that I could have gone faster, which is the addictive appeal of Triathlon.

My recovery was greatly assisted by the free bar at the after race party.

Overall target = achieved.

Next ...... !

Cannes we do it?

It's like running the gauntlet over here. If it's not avoiding the full blown, severe cold bug passed from The Editor to The Editor's wife 2 days before our trip, it's navigating safe passage through the rush hour French traffic during our quick cycle over to Cannes to loosen the legs. Funny how you feel safe inside a metal box and so vulnerable outside of it.

The Editor's early morning bipolar episodes of rapid discharge horrified the neighbouring campers. At least they didn't happen both at the same time, what with only his head making it out of the tent to vomit. I can't imagine what his wife would have made of that, had she been trapped inside the tent still. I think it's nerves - all in the mind; pre-race tension. 24 hours later and it's back to normal.

Well, that is until we go to register and it all becomes overwhelmingly real .....

Current weight is unknown, but there's not much eating in this heat.

Ironman France approaches

I just clicked on to the Ironman France website to check out where to see the live internet coverage.

Seulement 9 jours jusqu'à l'Ironman France 2009 !

You don't have to speak French to know that's serious.

I can already feel the nervous energy and hear the deafening silence of those final 10 seconds before the start of the race. My blood just ran cold. I am properly sh**ing myself now.

Current weight is 13 stones 2 pounds (184 pounds / 83.5 kg).

Out of breath

Hardly. And that's the thing.

Yesterday I was mountain biking for 3 hours up some crazy land rover tracks and then I went for a hilly 1 hour run on steep forest trails. At the end of it, I had a cup of coffee, a couple of chicken rolls, 2 pieces of cake and went home. And I did that for fun because I was getting a bit fed up of Ironman training.

At no point did I feel the need to stop. At no point was I even out of breath. My aerobic capacity has increased to such a level that it's only really useful for endurance events. What will happen after Ironman?

Current weight is 13 stones 6 pounds (188 pounds / 85.3 kg)

Triathlon anniversary

This time last year I was extremely nervous about competing in my first Sprint Triathlon. It was the first test of my weight loss, and one of the major goals I had been gearing my training towards.

This year I slept in and only managed to participate in the race after The Editor managed to register for me. Turning up 5 minutes after registration has closed, and 1 minute before Transition closes is not the wisest race strategy. But the extra 30 minutes in bed paid off.

In June, 2008, I came 121st out of 262, with a time of 1 hour, 27 minutes and 5 seconds.
In June, 2009, I came 38th out of 261, with a time of 1 hour, 14 minutes and 49 seconds.

My swim time improved 12 seconds. But this time I didn't even approach my anearobic threshold and I left the pool feeling great and ready for the bike.

My bike time improved by 5:07, partly due to using a merely 19 year old bicycle instead of a 59 year old one, but mostly due to my quads.

My run time improved by 6:43. That is considerable, and the visible result of a year of training.

Combined with an improvement in transition times, that's a overall 12 minute, 16 second improvement, which equates to around 14%.

The Editor wonders what I might have achieved if I'd started all this 14 years ago when I had youth on my side. Thankfully I was too busy eating pizza and drinking beer to think about it.

Current weight is 13 stones 4 pounds (186 pounds / 84.4 kg).

Swim times

This week's key swim session was 3.4km. It's the last long distance swim shown in my training plan before The Event, so I was prepared to put in a decent effort. I've always hoped to break the 60 minute barrier for my open water swim time, which I believe would equate to a 20m pool time of under 70 minutes, but despite all the training I've been doing and numerous technique improvements, I've never actually made significant gains on my time. What I have achieved is to leave the pool feeling fresh after swimming for over hour, albeit more than a little hungry.

I break down long pool swims into 50 lengths to try and remove some of the intense monotony. The first 50 lengths were completed in 19 minutes and 33 seconds. Not too bad, and I felt pretty good at this point. The clock showed 39 minutes and 3 seconds at the end of the next 50 lengths. If you hold on a moment, I'll do the maths .... 3 seconds quicker than the first 50! I laughed out loud in disbelief that I could complete two sets of 50 lengths and finish them to within 3 seconds of each other. I was not the only one displaying disbelief; the old lady who happened to be parked at the end of the pool whilst I was checking my times looked extremely perplexed, wondering why my watch was so amusing.

The third set of 50 lengths took 19 minutes and 38 seconds, and the remaining 20 lengths a further 7 minutes and 53 seconds.

To summarise mathematically, which I'm sure you weren't hoping for, my actual swim time for 170 lengths was 66 minutes and 34 seconds and if you pro-rata my first 50 lengths, it gives a projected swim time of 66 minutes and 28 seconds.

To summarise generally, my swimming stroke is very, very consistent.

And just to cool down after the swim, a quick 120 minute cycle up a consistently steep hill. The things I now consider normal ...

Current weight is 13 stones 4 pounds (186 pounds / 84.4 kg).

Normal behaviour ...

I went Kayaking last Saturday. Perfectly normal behaviour.

But the kayaking took place near Glencoe, and I decided it would be a perfect time to get in a long cycle. So I cycled the 110 miles back home, using the premise that I couldn't cheat and stop early without having an unexpected hotel bill. Not unreasonable behaviour, albeit slightly eccentric.

Then I went for a quick 30 minute jog. The transition was not from bike to run. It was from sane to insane. I crossed the line of what can realistically be classified as normal behaviour. I didn't actually realise that I had crossed this line until this morning, when I woke up without any aches or pains and carried on with life as normal.

Current weight is 13 stones 4 pounds (186 pounds / 84.4 kg). It goes up and down a little, but it's still about the same.