Sunday, 18 August 2013

World Duathlon Champs 2013 Ottawa

With a race start time of 0850 am, and the transition and start/finish area a ten minute shuttle bus ride away, race day began with the buzzing of several alarms that had been, perhaps over cautiously, set very early to allow myself and my roommate Nick ample time to get up, eat breakfast, gather our kit and head to the transition area to make the final preparations around the bikes that had been racked the previous day, and left at 5pm, with the flimsy looking wooden racking swaying around under the weight of several thousands of pounds worth of Time Trial bikes. I stick to food that I like to eat every time I race, including some Belvita biscuits which had been brought over from the UK, toast, bananas and a High 5 Energy Bar. Food that is not liquidy and wont ‘slosh’ around in my stomach during a race.

A regular shuttle service was provided by the GBR travel organisers, Nirvana Europe, so there was no particular rush to get a seat; athletes trickled through at their leisure. I travelled to the Breton Flats area of Ottawa, just on the edge of the parliamentary and business district of Ottawa, with a couple of other athletes and traveling friends and family. I arrived with plenty of time to set up my bike shoes on the pedals, practice putting on my helmet, laying out other essentials in transition, check tire pressures, and walk through slowly the direction of travel through transition, something I will always do pre-race to remove any doubt of how to get to the bike when the adrenaline is flowing. So many athletes fear transition, and you are bound to see several athletes looking around anxiously, even at the world AG level, for their bike as they come steaming into transition from the initial (in the case of duathlon) run. Taking a minute to familiarise yourself, slowing down, and not over thinking it goes a long way to getting transition right.
As a newcomer to the GBR duathlon team, I had no previous experience, throughout the whole week, of what to expect. A lot of the team had raced several World and European Championships in the past and therefore had their own methods. During  a couple of the morning runs, some team members seemed keen to show each other how fast they could run along the canal, something I wasn’t prepared to mess about with. I had nothing to prove to anybody, had put in all of the hard effort in my own training and knew what I was capable of and what I was not.
Perhaps my ignorance was bliss, and I took this laid back outlook to the race day. I was able to give best wishes to my friend Jayne who was due off at the ungodly hour of 0725 for the ladies race, have a smiley chat with my family who had travelled to Ottawa to spectate, and then begin my own warm up. I had taken great heed of one piece of information from the team meeting we had the previous day hosted by team manager, Jez Cox. He had described the dictionary definition of “Olympian” as “to show great levels of detachment and calm”. So I off I trotted, alone, around the side roads surrounding the War Museum, doing the regular strides which I had learnt from my running coaches at Ipswich JAFFA, taking lots of deep breaths to prepare the lungs for the forthcoming punishment of running 10km as fast as possible. This was my warm up and nobody else’s. There was time to watch some athletes in earlier races finishing their first 10km, and also to scout where my family had camped out on the course, so I knew where to smile for the camera! I vividly remember watching with horror as a GBR athlete in the Male 50+ category rushed into transition after a blistering sub 35 minute 10k (35 minutes for a 50 year old!!!) only to find his rear tyre had exploded in the transition area. He later, calmly described it as the most expensive 10k run he had ever entered. Cheerfulness in the face of adversity.
'Detachment and Calm' before the race.

At approximately 0830, the athletes in my race were allowed to advance through to collect the timing tags, and enter the start area for the imminent claxon. Like Donkey Kong, It’s on…
10k
As the countdown to the start was on, my apprehension finally began. I knew it was in there somewhere. It wasn’t the fact that we were about to race a WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP, but merely the fact that we were about to run 10k! The second two pursuits were a distant dream at the time. 10k is a distance that, in my short running ‘career’ I have never been entirely confident with. It is down to that ‘inbetweeny’ distance. I find it isn’t the full gas exciting speed of a 5k, or the slightly slower endurance based distance of 10miles or HM.
During the travel and proceeding days, a friend I had made in the airport, James Coleman (JC) and I had deciphered that we were probably equal abilities in the running pursuit, with him being a bit of a hero on two wheels, and had agreed to pace off each other for the first run. We knew that a 35 minute 10k would position us well in our respective age categories, his being 25-29. It was constant reassurance to me to hear his heavy breathing (a trait, not a sign of fatigue) on my shoulder throughout the run. I figured that if I had him behind me then that was one more of my rivals that wasn’t close behind.
With the age categories clearly written on the right calf of each competitor, it was easy to see who was around you, and if they were any threat to your AG ranking; except of course for those dastardly duathletes who opted for compression socks, thus masking their identity, like a multi-sport Zorro.
Being still very new to duathlon, and especially on this international level, I was blissfully unaware of who any athletes around me were. The only two faces I knew prior to the race where former Olympic Gold medallist James Cracknell, who had set himself a target of racing a world championship, and fellow 20-24 GBR AGer AJ Meager who had beaten me at the qualifier in Cambridge the previous April. James and I caught AJ after about 3km of the run, as he had gone out hard to maintain a high position, and continued our fast but manageable pace. At this point, the course doubled back on itself around a slip road and under pass, and we were able to see the two overall leaders, Fremy of France and Baumgartner of USA, trailblazing their way to a 33minute 10k, and in the latters case, the overall first place.
The run course was advertised as fast and flat, however that turned out to be a complete lie as it was neither fast nor flat, and there was a gentle slope and rise, which at top speed, really tested the runners’ resolve. Approaching 8 km of the run, on the second loop of the 5km course, we crested the small incline and two memorable things occurred. Firstly, JC, still breathing like Darth Vader behind me, challenged my status as the races most horizontal man, as he exclaimed with joy at the sight of the Ottawa skyline “check that, this is why we do it!” (This is quite a mouthful whilst running a 5:30mile uphill).It really was quite stunning.  The second memory was of our friend Jayne, in the ladies race, thundering along in her aero tuck aboard her bike “Boris” on the adjacent carriageway, giving us her well known, bullhorn hand signal, and screaming encouragement at 25mph!

Coming back to the transition area, we met a wall of noise as this is where the majority of spectators had assembled as the courses funnelled down. We ran through seeing my family on the right, and the team management (manager, masseuse and mechanic) on the left. We had executed our plan perfectly, as we clocked 35.21 for the 10km. This put me in second place for my age group as the Japanese athlete, Inuzuka had clocked an impressive 34.54, and New Zealand’s Aiden Dunster, who must have been lurking on our heels followed closely one second behind. Run to bike, helmet on, chinstrap secured and off we went to the 2 lap 40km bike course along the Sir John A Macdonald Parkway.
40km Bike
The bike course was raced along a large dual carriageway, beside the Ottawa River. The format of riding, as all athletes were briefed, was to ride on the left, and overtake on the right. As per the British highway code if you will. The majority of athletes embraced this ruling, although with a large amount of competitors hailing from Canada and USA, where they drive on the ‘wrong side’, some couldn’t quite grasp the concept, and required a few encouraging words of ‘COMING THROUGH’, ‘ON THE RIGHT’ or if they still didn’t give way, a more aggressive ‘MOVE’. I’m sorry to be so brash, but safety is important when you are screaming along that quickly!
During the first 5km of the bike course, I passed a lot of riders who were trailing from earlier races, or beginning their second lap of the bike leg. It was only after a short lap of an industrial park which required navigating 4 small roundabouts, did any rider, the only rider in fact during the whole 40km, pass me on the bike. It was JC, who sported the most beautifully crisp tanlines as souvenir of his epic summer of cycling in Yorkshire and Cornwall.
With four dead U turns on the course (2 per lap) it was easy to check back on where other competitors were in relation to yourself, without turning around aboard the bike and losing momentum. It was reassuring to use other athletes with their brightly coloured bike shoes, as seems to be fashion, staying an equal distance, or dropping further back behind me as we doubled back. I used them as a reference to see how I was moving.
As it turned out the return leg back towards transition on both laps was with a gentle tailwind, and as we approached downhill the turn around on the first lap, and the dismount line on the second, speeds easily reached up to 55kmh. Too fast for Dad to take an action shot anyway! The 40km (25mile) bike course had passed in 59.40, showing how tough the outward course had been into the wind, as this distance can comfortably be covered three or four minutes quicker on a ‘flat course’. I had been the only rider in my AG to complete the course in under one hour, testament to the series of hard racing that I had completed in the local series of Time Trials throughout the summer at home in Ipswich, learning to push to the absolute limit against the clock. This was perhaps where the race was won, and it became a case of clinging on to the lead I had built.
Approaching the dismount after 40k

I have said to several people since, that I got off the bike thinking I had maybe done a little bit too much, and not left enough reserves to run an adequate 5km, time to tackle another loop of the run course…
5km
The sensation of running immediately after dismounting a bicycle at speed is well known amongst tri and duathletes. It is horrific. Utterly disgusting, but something I have embraced on the basis that if you can thrive when others are struggling and feeling sorry for themselves, you can make some gains; which could be the difference between first and second.
If you are not familiar with the feeling I have described above, imagine a toddler taking his first tentative steps unsupported and you will be on the right lines.
In all of the previous duathlons in which I had competed, I had taken pride in recording respectable second run times, so was fairly confident that the iron legs would wear off and I would find my rhythm, and scorch a blistering 5k. I was still unaware at this point of my AG position, although I knew I had to be placing fairly high up overall as I was only passing people and not being over taken.
The second run followed the same course as the first, with only one lap instead of two. The course seemed to pass quicker as I now knew it well and knew what was approaching. Passing through the aforementioned slip road, I was caught by footsteps that had been approaching from behind. It was the Frenchman Fremy, in his bright yellow shoes, regaining positions that he had surrended during a 62 minute bike leg, showing what an impressive runner he is. I continued to plug on, it wasn’t getting any easier, but I was just terrified of being caught!
Whilst cresting the hill, and enjoying the tremendous city scape for a third time, I was approached from behind from GBR team mate Tom Crouch, on his way to fifth overall and third in his hugely competitive 30-34 age group behind the uber runners Baumgartner and Fremy. The following dialogue from Tom will stick with me forever, he gave me a light pat on the small of my back, and congratulated me with the words, “you’ve got your age group mate, well done”, before trotting off ahead. At this point I thought, “oh s**t” and continued on to the left turn into the finish area on the Breton Flats. There was a lot of noise, but I distinctly remember seeing manager Jez hanging over the barriers yelling, grinning and handing me a small GBR flag which is a tradition for team members to cross the line with. The chap on the PA system welcomed me over the line, in a hot dizzy haze announcing me as the winner of the 20-24 age group. The journey was complete, I had won, I was WORLD CHAMPION, what’s that all about!!??
Crossing the line as the 20-24 World Champion.
As I wandered to the tent giving out water, I was desperate to sit down at this point, I saw JC who made a girly screaming noise, and hugged me, shouting “we both did it buddy!” He had won his AG also and the fatigue quickly wore off as I spotted my family behind the barriers, was able to high five my dad who shouted “Jayne won too!”, which was the icing on the cake. Two athletes from the sleepy rural town of Ipswich had beaten the world!
With my fellow Gold Medal winners Sean Scott and James Coleman

In truth the finish wasn’t as glamorous as you would imagine, I was a sticky mess, after spilling banana energy gel over my tri suit, and just wanted a bottle of water! However, we had lots of time to compose ourselves, gather our kit, it’s always interesting to see what sort of state you left your transition area in during the heat of the race; and cycle back to the hotel to shower and doll ourselves up for the medal ceremony later in the day. 
After cycling through downtown Ottawa in flip flops and baggy shorts on my Scott Plasma TT bike(quite a sight!) we arrived back at the race site to see the end of the fun 5k race, which pitted team manager Jez against team mechanic Graeme Knott, a runner who has beaten me in local XC league running races, on a rare excursion away from his spanners.I think Graeme won, but it was probably the fiercest battle of the day!
With Jayne, flying the flag for Great Britain.

The medal ceremony, was a swift affair, as the organisers filtered each podium through. I was fortunate enough to be sharing the podium with three other Brits, AJ Meager and Samantha Aplin who each took silver, and Fiona Bracegirdle who took Bronze in the female race for the 20-24 AG. The podium was completed by Natalie Ross of RSA alongside me on the top golden step, and Aiden Dunster had stayed strong to take Bronze.
Podium


When we arrived back at the hotel, Nick and I ventured to a local restaurant called Woody’s to meet my family. My sister and brother in law are called Nicola and Nick respectively, making 50 % of the diners a Nick, most confusing! It was only now that the enormity of what I had achieved that afternoon sunk in as I logged into the restaurant WIFI, turned on Facebook to find a picture Nicola had posted of me and my medal boasting over 70 ‘likes’ within just a couple of hours. I didn’t realise I knew seventy people!! The congratulations I had received from friends and family was overwhelming and I was ecstatic that everybody was able to take such pride and delight in my achievement.
Making headlines at home with Jayne.

A meal of beer, and poutine, a Canadian staple of cheesy chips and gravy topped with bacon slices which I had grown to love on a previous trip to Alberta with the Army at the infamous ‘Crowfoot CafĂ©’, was my refuelling diet, the meal of champions…apparently!
Rehydration

1 comment:

  1. Great write up, mate. You've made me fancy chips and gravy!

    ReplyDelete