Challenge Roth
Challenge Roth, “the world’s largest long distance triathlon” or as I’ll remember it, the race Jan Frodeno stole from me. It is an incredible event in a small town. In the days leading up, I met people from Canada, USA, Australia and New Zealand who had all flown across the world just to take part in Roth. Weather reports were great, some wind predicted, meteorology and biologically, but the forecast was for an overcast and dry day. The race briefing even advised we might want our arm warmers for the bike course. Billed as the “Legendary mother of the Challenge Family” it was certainly to be the mother of all days for me, for good and not-so-good reasons.
Race Day
After an early night and a far-too-hearty 4am German breakfast, served by a far-too-excited German woman, by 5:30 AM we were down at the swim start where the PA system had Chill Out Ibiza on constant loop. People nervously checked their bikes for the 15th time, visited the loos again and waited for their swim wave. Finally, with the firing of the cannons, the hot air balloons lined up along the canal took flight one after the other, Ride of the Valkyries was ringing in my ears and we were off.
The Swim…
The swim was to be the high point of my day. It went great. Why can’t pool swims feel this good, I thought. Exiting from the water I looked down to see 1h 04m. I couldn’t believe it, I would have been delighted with 1h 15m. It must be mistake, I told myself, just like in Mallorca, where on the run course I unsurprisingly saw John Walnutt and Aileen Flynn way ahead of me but, failing to spot Roger, Ivan Eustace and Will Owens, briefly flirted with the notion that I was going to be third in the club!
The Bike…
But for now the bike course, head down, try to overtake as many as possible and don’t worry about those overtaking you. There was to be lots of “me overtaking you” followed by “you overtaking me” for the next five and a bit hours. The crowds truly are amazing at Roth. There’s the day you’re having after all your training, and there’s the day the locals are having. Tables lined the roads decorated with strung up pretzels and the smell of grilled bratwurst was never far away. The noisy ride up Solarberg with a narrow channel though the crowds was great fun for all of us. Towards the end of the bike course we had locals on their bikes with their kids cycling alongside us, cheering us on as we raced for T2, and they raced to catch us on the upcoming run.
The Run…
Into T2 and my bike was taken from me, my run bag thrust in my arms and a very helpful young lady taking off my helmet, pulling on my socks and shoes, popping a sun visor on my head and practically pushing me out the tent. Alas here is where it all went wrong. Immediately I was struggling to run even one kilometre. My stomach was in knots, I had no energy. I could happily have laid down on that grassy canal bank and slept for Ireland. With three gels in my belt I knocked one back, which helped, but only for a few km. The two others went not much longer after this and by the 20km mark I’d already walked large parts of the course.
Nothing seemed to work, I gagged on one of the 32Gi gels they handed out, tried bananas and even a magnesium tablet. The feed stations had salt and lemon slices. Were they expecting tequila shots, I wondered? Slowly that targeted 11-hour time slipped away as I walked head down past cheering German crowds. “Ya John. Super! Go, Go, Go” is never what you want to hear when you’re walking a marathon as you restrain the urge to strangle the person. But I got around, managing to run the last few km, did a shuffling lap of honour around the track finish and it was over.
Thoughts
I’ll be back to try again, though maybe not in Roth. I do think, while there’s often dubious advice given out in triathlon; “No exercise or walking under ladders the week before your ironman”, someone like Jan Frodeno with his incredible 7h 35m time probably could teach me a thing or two about proper race day nutrition for next time.
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