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Ironman UK Sherbourne Castle 20th August 2006
Nigel Stoddart, IT Business Manager, PSU IT Voice and Data Ltd.
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As you may have read in March's issue of our Newsletter, Nigel has been training all year to compete for the first time in this years gruelling Ironman Challenge at Sherbourne Castle in August. Below is his very personal account of the day.
"It was still dark and very chilly when I awoke at 3.30am. I had set my alarm the night before, but to be honest, I needn’t have. I was wide awake before it even went off. Well, actually, I am not sure that I had much sleep at all.
I had climbed into my sleeping bag at 8:00pm the night before in an attempt to get a good night’s sleep and plenty of rest before facing the biggest physical and mental challenge of my life. Easy said, not so easy done. Not everyone else on the campsite had the same idea. Many were up late partying (thought I suspect that they were supporters rather than competitors). Needless to say, I was somewhat relieved when eventually one of my supporters asked the ‘rowdy gang’ to ‘keep it down a bit please’.
With the campsite much quieter I tried to settle down again. But sleep still didn’t come easily. There was too much going on in my head: - would I make the swim, had I done enough training, had I packed everything I needed into the transition bags, would my knee injury come back? The thoughts just kept on running through my mind… what if… what if…what if..
By midnight I was a total nervous wreck. At one stage I had a panic attack and convinced myself that I had forgotten how to swim!. Eventually I came to the conclusion that not only do you have to complete the 2.4mile Swim/112Mile Bike/26.2Mile run in 17 hours, you also have to do it on an hours sleep!
I crept out of my tent and made myself a quick breakfast. I knew I really needed to eat but it was hard work. Weetabix and half a banana was as much as I could manage. My stomach really was churning by now. It was so quiet, but I wasn’t alone for long. Before I knew it some of my supporters had joined me. Whether it was their nerves that awoke them so early, or the discomfort of sleeping in a tent, I was not sure. I suspect it was the latter really, but either way, it was great to see some friendly, albeit very tired faces so early in the morning.
Soon it was time to head off. I reluctantly put on my wetsuit and set off towards the start. It was almost surreal. A bit like something out of Close Encounters – or worse still Alien.
Strange looking people in wetsuits walking slowly towards the large lights that guided our way to the Castle. It was as if we were in some strange hypnotic trance. I reached the Castle shortly after 5am. Still very early and still dark, but suddenly part of a huge and expectant crowd of competitors and supporters.
The hour before the race start went very quickly. I stumbled around checking my bike for the umpteenth time, making sure I had everything else I needed and of course going to the toilet - for at least the fourth time that hour!
At 5:40am the race director called all the 1300 competitors down to the lake for the swim. At this point the entire field seemed to go quiet. Looking at the faces around me, I was almost reassured to see that many seemed to be feeling as nervous as I was.
There really was no going back now. In the middle of the field, I entered the lake for the 200m warm up swim to the start line. From the crowd I heard some of my supporters shouting to me to wish me luck. This really was it now. Everything I had trained for over the past 11 months was going to be put to the test in the next few minutes, and indeed the next hours.
To say I was dreading the swim start, would be an understatement. Swimming has always been the weakest of the three disciplines for me. And I knew from previous races that a mass start is called so for a reason. It’s a mass of legs and arms all fighting for space and this wasn’t going to be any different, I am sure it is a great spectacle from the safety of dry land, but being part of it is like being placed into a washing machine.
To confirm my expectations the claxon went off and the melee started with an explosion of white water. In the first few seconds I got an elbow to the back of the head and a kick in the goggles. Breathing was very difficult and I found myself gasping for air. Looking back now, this was one of a number of points during which I could so easily have given up. It was a real test of mental strength, but I knew that I just couldn’t give up so soon – I just had to stick with it.
Fortunately, after 10 minutes or so I found some fairly clear water. I tried to relax and consciously made an effort to keep my stroke as long as possible. Slowly but surely, this helped to get my heart rate down. Before I knew it I was making good progress. In fact, I managed to complete the first lap in just 36minutes.
This was going far better than I could ever have imagined. Thankfully the second lap was uneventful and for the first time in a swim event I actually started to enjoy it.
I reached the finish of the swim in 1:12 minutes (8 minutes ahead of my target). By now some of my initial fears and concerns were starting to slip away. I still had along way to go, and anything could happen, but the swim had gone well.
As I ran towards transition, fighting to get out of my wetsuit, I could hear my name being called from the crowd. My supporters were there again, cheering me on every step of the way. I couldn’t see them but I could certainly hear them. It was with a slightly lighter heart that I changed in to my bike gear. After a quick transition I grabbed my bike and set off on the 112 mile bike course.
The bike course consisted of 3 laps from Sherborne to Dorchester and back. My plan had been to take the first lap easy. I had heard the route from Dorchester back up to Sherbourne was hilly so I did not want to go too quick too soon. Well, that was the plan. But in reality I got rather carried away with the race in front of me. I averaged 18 miles an hour for the first lap, somewhat faster than I had planned. During the first lap I tried to stick to my nutrition plan drinking 500ml of sports drink every hour and eating gels or power bars every 45 minutes.
The hills were worse than I had feared with 3 steep ones in quick succession including 8 miles of strenuous climbing. I knew I was going to struggle later on in the bike section and laps 2 and 3 were just about keeping going, spinning the legs and hanging on in there.
I had a particularly bad patch at about the 100 mile mark. This was the second point at which giving up crossed my mind. It really was tough going and exhausting. During this stage I started doing some strange things, my steering was erratic, I forgot to drink and for some reason refused to stop at feed stations. I was in a daze, my mind however wandered back to the reason I was doing this, which had become so much more relevant in the weeks leading up to the event, and to all of the support I had received. And to those 11 people who were out on the course somewhere waiting for me and willing me on.
If I gave up now I knew I would regret it for a very long time. So I kept on going. It was hard work but somehow I managed to grind out the last 12 miles - albeit slowly, and in a very low gear.
The Castle was soon in sight and I arrived back in Sherborne to the cheers of the crowd. I had completed the bike ride in just under 7 hours. Not bad. Not bad at all.
It might sound a bit strange, but I was actually looking forward to the run. Well, perhaps I was more looking forward to the opportunity to stretch my legs out properly. They had been pretty cramped up on the bike for a fair few hours. At the same time, I was dreading the run.
In the weeks running up to the event, I had been suffering from a knee injury known as “IT Band Syndrome” or runners’ knee, which basically meant I had been unable to do any long distance running for sometime. In fact, the furthest I had managed to run in the previous month was 6 miles – and that had been painful.
The prospect of 26 miles was now even more onerous. I had come so far, getting through the swim and the bike and I was so desperate not to fail at this point. But would my knee hold up?
I took my time in the transition from bike to run - probably a good 10 minutes. I took some time to stretch my IT band and to take on board some much needed carbs and energy – only jelly babies, sports drink and pretzels, but I was getting a bit fed up of ‘cardboard’ like power bars and sickly power gels. I was starting to feel sick so I added a couple of nurofen to the menu - in preparation for the pain that I was sure to follow from my knee and to settle the pain in my stomach.
It was great to sit down on a chair for those few minutes, rather than the razor sharp saddle I had endured for the previous 7 hours. And, to be honest, I was fearful. I was putting off the inevitable. I didn’t want to get up and test my knee. Eventually though after contemplating hiding in the transition tent for the rest of the day, I got up, put my fuel belt on and set out on the run.
My worst fears came true after running for all of 30 seconds. I felt the knee injury immediately and knew that I would have to put up with it for the rest of the day. This was my lowest point of the day, the moment when failure was a real possibility.
I stopped to walk for a bit and to reassess the situation. At this point I also saw all of the people who had come to support me, all in their matching “Stoddy Supporter” t-shirts! They seemed to be the loudest supporters on the course. I couldn’t possibly let them or myself down.
The kids ran with me for a while, to cheer me on. I still had 10 hours to go until the cut off point, I could still do this if I managed my injury, and even if I walked the rest I should finish in time.
I decided my best option was to try to walk a mile then run a mile and see how long I could keep that going. It wasn’t really a run though, more of a shuffle - only slightly faster than walking pace with minimal bending of the knee. For about 10 miles I kept this going but eventually reduced it to a ½ mile jog 1 mile walk.
At this stage I was living off flat coke and pretzels at every feed station, I couldn’t keep anything else down much to the disgust of the Sherborne residents when I brought up a powerbar right in front of their eyes.
Eventually after what seemed like an eternity I reached the 23 mile mark. For the first time I knew I was going to make it, even if I had to crawl. 11 months of training, preparation and dreaming about this moment was coming to an end, I was going to become an Ironman.
I spent the last 3 miles mostly walking and contemplating the achievement. As I approached the castle I was determined to run the final 400 meters where the crowds had gathered and where I knew my family of supporters would be waiting with the biggest cheer of the day. As I turned the final bend I saw young Jeremy and Briony, faces gleaning with excitement and anticipation. They were going to run the last 100 metres and cross the line with me hand in hand.
The dream was about to come true and sure enough, as if to add to the occasion the commentator spoke up, in an amazing American drawl, “Here’s number 841, Nigel Stoddart and this is his first Ironman, Nigel welcome to the family, you are an Ironman”
On crossing the line, I pretty much collapsed and had to be helped up by the children as a very nice volunteer placed a medal around my neck. When I got up I saw my wife waiting for me alongside her best friend. She looked both excited and relieved, with a tear in her eye. She had experienced all of the highs and many lows with me over the last few months and she knew how much this meant to both of us. I wanted to cry but couldn’t, I didn’t have it in me, all I could do was stare into space and shiver violently.
I tried enjoying the moment with the supporters back at camp, but all I wanted to do was curl up and sleep. So at 10:00pm only 2 hours after finishing I climed into my sleeping bag, tired, in pain, but very happy.
It turns out I completed the race in 13:56:48. It isn’t perhaps as fast as I might have liked when I started out on this mad challenge. However, given my injury and my serious concerns about my ability to compete at all, I am just so delighted to have finished and to have come through it all.
I hobbled about for a couple of days afterwards, but was relatively ache free given the enormity of the event. So much could have gone wrong and at times it did but all in all it was an amazing experience from start to finish.
You learn a lot about yourself and the people around you when you take on a challenge like this. You push yourself to the limits both physically and mentally, and I would recommend it to anyone who, like me, felt they had something still to achieve in their life.
Apart from being a personal goal, the other reason I completed this challenge was to raise money for Cancer Research. With a few weeks to go until the Justgiving Website closes I have managed to raise over £1500. Once again I would like to thank everyone who sponsored me. I would really like to carry this fundraising on next year, and am currently looking at other Ironman. At the moment the Ironman Malaysia or Ironman Switzerland events are looking favourite, or maybe both! watch this space!!
If you are interested in learning more about the the Ironman Series then visit their website at http://www.ironmanlive.com
A final aside from the Editor
During a previous qualifying event in Windsor, Nigel sent in a photo of the minutes leading up to the start of the swimmng stage. I couldn't help having a flashback to the Woody Allen film "Everything you always wanted to know about sex but were afraid to ask".
Enough said.
