By Steven Moody
And so – the big twist in the tail was I actually signed up for Ironman Barcelona all along …..
Ok initially when I was reflecting on Roth and decided to register in secret, this was how my 2nd race report of the year was going to open … (if I had been successful clearly … otherwise none of this would have ever happened … dum di dum)
However, due to a combination of the diligent Ironmen staff constantly updating/publishing the 2014 starter list and over zealous social networking by some people – my clandestine approach was sunk very early. I did struggle on manfully for a while and tried to deny the fact but was rightfully met with raised eyebrows of derision.
The logic behind my “secret” was for once in my life I wanted to stay under the radar and see how I fared without drawing additional attention to myself. In the end – it was a dumb strategy as when my registration was finally confirmed– I was taken aback by the sheer positivity of people wanting me to do well in Barcelona.
Fair to say people were highly generous in “extending” their words of advice/support (yes yes I have packed them!!!)
Clearly before I registered – I had talked my plan through with the two key people who if they had said No – I would have listened, Yvonne (aka B.I.R.D) and coach Tadgh. Both knew how important this was to me and had witnessed first-hand how much blood, sweat and tears I had put into this year – both said it could be done and offered to support me in my last roll of the dice. Game on.
So now I was faced with new conundrums.
Firstly, how does someone train for a 2nd ironman in 8 weeks? The answer is carefully. As I had the base –we broke the next 8 weeks roughly into 2 weeks recovery, 4 weeks build (with Kenmare as a test race) and then 2 weeks tapper. Myself and TC identified some areas that we could tweak in terms of building bike strength by essentially riding the bejaysus out of Howth at every opportunity and a focus on open water swimming to nullify the threat of an ironman sea swim
Secondly, what of the logistics … Roth had been planned and booked almost 6 months in advance… I initially had fears of hotels/flights/Ship My Tri Bike being all booked out … thankfully enough my fears proved unfounded as I managed to tie up all the loose ends with minimal fuss. In fact, David Sheridan from Ship My Tri Bike, had informed me they had slots for Barca when I collected my bike after Roth – cheeky boll*x!
Finally, what about motivation – this was one of Coach Tadhg’s key questions to me when I approached him about the Barca option. Entering another 2 month block of early swim starts/long weekend spins/bricks was going to be taxing, even on a self confessed obsessive compulsive as myself. In fairness, this was the easiest of the questions to answer – as I felt I had let myself and everyone who believed in me down with my Roth performance – I had to put this right.
The lead up/training to the race went surprisingly quick. I enjoyed the fortnight rest and was accumulating PRs on Howth strava segments at a very reassuring rate. Kenmare came and went and I achieved my B goal of going sub 5 in a fantastically tough/scenic course. I highly recommend this course to all by the way – this year was my first time doing it and Kenmare is now firmly etched in the calendar as one of my favourites.
So there you have it – again I found myself packing for another Ironman adventure (déjà vu anyone) and in the airport at an ungodly hour, meeting up with my room-mates Cormac O’Brien (aka Cormy) and Neil O’Brien (aka Nobby). Worth noting here – the two reprobates are not true Piranhas (in terms of the mandatory good looks our club demands or subscriptions) but I allow them to travel with me as part of my ongoing contribution to the “Make a wish come true foundation” …..
Other key members of our travelling party included Ray and Catherine Ryan – Cormy’s parents – as after last years DQ debacle for Mr Ryan – he thought it best that he bring the heavies to argue his case in the event of further disciplinary proceedings (Did you know our Cormac was 4th in the egg and spoon race in 3rd class, mr race official? Hmmmm? You have that DQ away from his name right now young man!!!)
The trip from Barcelona airport was approx. an hour via train and despite missing the Finn/Leo banter fuelled Roth-mobile – it became apparent that this ironman would be a damn sight easier on the logistics point of view.
The hotel that myself, Nobby and Cormy were sharing a room in was approx. 10 mins walk from registration in one direction and approx. the same distance in the other direction to the one transition area. No cars/lost keys drama this time in terms of getting set up – this was all coming along nicely.
The weather was warm in the days lead up to the race and was not a patch on the Roth heat. Cormy took myself and Nobby out on a recon of the bike course and the surface was flat and smooth – on a good day this would be a fast time for sure. Confidence levels were growing.
In the race briefing, the director put a lot of people’s remaining fears to bed by confirming it was a wetsuit swim. Sighs of relief were audible in the large marquee. Surely nothing could go wrong now.
Fast forward to the race morning, when the alarm went off at 5:30am – as per my usual morning routine, I stepped out to the balcony to do my naked star jumps to get the blood flowing. The rain that met me was fooking biblical complete with sheet and forked lightning …. I stepped in quickly and lied stoutly to the lads that “there was a little drizzle outside”. Nobby recognising my sheepish face stuck his head out the door and returned as shell shocked as I did … what now? Revised targets? Reduced race distance for health and safety? Things were now very much up in the air.
Despite the recent turn of events – we were here to do a job and the lads donned our kit (including a fetching black liner accessory, which was the envy of all the other competitors unused to adapting to this weather at such short notice) and headed manfully towards transition to do our final bike checks. It actually was worse walking through the town evident by a number of people walking around in full wetsuits and a number of manhole covers burst open with the rain swell. This did not bode well.
After we completed our final bike checks and dropped off our street wear bags – we were instructed to head to the registration tent and await an official announcement. In fact, the pressure was too much for some lads – as we spotted a couple of “competitors” checking their bikes out of transition already. Rumour and counter rumour spread like wild fire – was the race going to be cancelled, would it be reduced to a duathlon, had Moody been bumped up to the Pro wave?
Knowing full well that this was one of those situations out of my control – I sat down to conserve energy and awaited to hear our fate. After what seemed like forever, the official informed us it was only to be a delay of 30 mins to let the storm pass and the race was to be full ironman distance. It was funny as the different nationalities cheered together as the announcement was read out in their native languages. Myself and Cormy exchanged a silent fist bump and focussed on the day ahead. This was time for Mr Ryan to put to bed his DQ from this race last year – he looked determined and was in good shape – I knew he would do well.
What was to follow was even better, as by the time I left the tent, the sun had begun to break through and it was like waking from a dream into a completely different day. It was game on again. I silently chuckled at the lads who had bailed at the first sight of trouble with their bikes.
As we are both young looking 40 – 44ers, myself and Nobby were in purple hats and in the same wave. Nobby’s build up to the race had not been opportune with a couple of weeks lost to a back injury but I really wanted for him to do well as he is a gentleman and a good friend. I told him so as we made our way to the start.
Now it was time to focus in on my own performance as I had my own demons to slay. Before the race I had broken the race into the three segments with best case/worst case scenarios of how the day could have panned out.
Swim
Best case target – 75 mins
Worst case target – 85 mins
In terms of derailing the golden chalice of the sub ten – I felt the swim was the biggest threat with it being a sea swim and if I lost time, I could be chasing my tail all day. What did not help my nerves was the fact it was a beach start with everyone in our wave piling in at the same time – oh my washing machine!
A lad beside me roared “Banzaiiiiii!” as the foghorn went and I thought “Don’t mind if I do” and I threw myself headlong into the mayhem. Arms and legs flew furiously as people fought for some space and I gave as good as I got making my way through the field.
The swim course was 200 metres out to the first turning point and 850 to the next. Once past this turn, it was a simple 2300 metres straight swim in some beautiful sea water before a final 200 turn into the mainland.
By the time we had passed the 2nd buoy, things had spread out to a more manageable duvet of bodies and I concentrated on swimming feet to feet, taking advantage of the slower swimmers from earlier waves. I did manage to mistime my catch at one point and got a serious kick in my hand for my troubles – it throbbed for rest of the swim but I reassured myself that I would not need it for the rest of the day.
The rest of the swim was not too taxing but I was thankful of the large number of buoys with distance markings along the course, which gave me some idea of my progress.
I was delighted to exit a couple of mins ahead of my best case scenario – no time to dawdle – I belted up the blue carpet roaring “Vamos” to anyone ahead of me (The Krauts loved this)
Actual swim time – 73 mins …. We are on like Donkey Kong
T1
Best case target – 4 mins
Worst case target – 6 mins
Myself and the lads had walked the transition tent extensively as part of our pre race reccy and I knew to sharply turn at the letter F which indicated my rack. I emptied the contents of my bike bag on the floor shamelessly claiming that part of the carpet as mine, growling at anyone who may have though different – a quick change ensued and I deposited my bike bag now full with wetsuit onto the rack.
A set of goal posts and the letter R were my landmark for finding Hawk in the transition area and I was off.
Actual t1 time – 4 mins
Bike
Best case target – 5:25 (approx. 33.2kph)
Worst case target – 5:35 (approx. 32.3kph)
The start of the bike course is 3 km through winding narrow streets and over all sorts of obstacles including speed ramps and recently flooded man holes. Needless to say this part of the course was negotiated with a large degree of caution, especially the part where we had previously witnessed the flowing of toilet paper down the street – grim!!
Once this was done we were on the finest closed motorway, Spain had to offer. The sun had come out but it was more pleasant than the Roth melting heat. I was enjoying this and more importantly Hawk was having the time of her life. I made a point of offering encouragement to any athletes with a tricolour on their race number by shouting their name and offering words of support. Some good humoured banter was exchanged amongst the Paddys.
I was conscious at first that my average speed was way higher than anticipated (approx. 36kph) on the first outward leg but looking at my target power/heart rate, I was well within my limits. Time to not overthink – time to JDI as Nike would tell me.
So the course is essentially a 37km up and down straight which we are to do 4.5 times (the half comes from on your 5 loop you turn around at 19km into the straight …. Confused ? you should be) and it is flat as with the exception of some minor drags/humps at each turnaround point.
So it was very easy to push a high speed – in fact for a lot of the course I found myself around the 36kph mark which was amazing – I actually shuddered to think what Casso, Matt Coughlan, Aileen or Will Owens could do on this course as ubber bikers. This thing was made for speed and I was giving it as much as Las Piernas del Pollo could squeeze out of Hawk.
The fact that it is such a fast bike course – It was really disappointing to see the shameless drafting that was going on – at one point I counted 3 groups of more than SEVENTY cyclist bunched up together coming down the opposite way. It was like watching the Tour De France – I could not believe my eyes. The motor cycle officials seemed either overwhelmed or unable to deal with it – there was even a queue in the penalty box.
I found myself wasting a fair bit of energy shouting at the groups. It was maddening.
At one point I had to laugh as I spotted Wayne chasing a German lad called Gunther roaring at him in his finest Skerries accent “Go on ya bollix … yiz are only moving now out of guilt …. Geerrrrdeee outta dat” ….
Myself and Wayne had a brief chat and he was going well but holding his powder dry with the run ahead. I wished him well as I pushed on and hoped he would not murder any Germans without my moral guidance – as I hated the idea of having to interrupt my post race celebrations to bail him out. See me – I am a giver!
Despite all the obvious skullduggary going on around me – I worked hard on steering clear of the packs, even if it meant burning some matches pushing myself to get around the smaller groups.
At the 120km mark – I had a quick glance at my front wheel and wondered if lightening would strike twice – thankfully it did not and I passed through the point where my Roth race had effectively died with no incident.
Aside from nearly decapitating a French lad called Olivier when I braked too hard in my cyclists dismount and my rear wheel shot up and smacked him in the head (got a good “ooooooooohhhh” from the crowd on that one) – the rest of the cycle had passed without incident, with my pace dropping on the final lap as I tried to conserve something for the marathon ahead.
Actual bike time – 5:09 (approx. 35kph) Holy moly – I am way ahead of target
T2
Best case target – 3 mins
Worst case target – 5 mins
A key difference between Roth and Barcelona is the lack of bike catchers but it made little difference to my transition time as I was on a high being so far ahead of target.
So following quick racking of Hawk (and yes I did kiss her before I left to say thanks) and it was back to transition tent.
It was a blue bag this time and the helmet was swapped for my trusty runners. Go go – my God this is really happening….
Actual t2 time – 1.5 mins
Run
Best case target – 3:10 (approx. 4:30 per k)
Worst case target – 3:20 (approx. 4:45 per k)
Normally the run is my time to shine but after pushing it on the bike – my legs felt uncharacteristically heavy. However, I went out on my A game pace of 4:30 min/k at the outset as I started the first of the four 10km loops of the course.
For the middle part of the course – there was a good concentration of spectators and it was great hearing the Irish element of the crowd shouting “Come on Piranha”, “That’s it Moody, looking good” …. I needed all the lift I could get as the pace took its strain.
It was only on my 3rd loop that I spotted Cormy and Nobby for the first time that day – they both looked very comfortable and a quick mental calculation convinced me I had no fooking chance of catching either of them. Both of them went on to post stellar times of 9:38 and 9:42 respectively and I was delighted for them.
Decision time so – I looked at my garmin – I have approx. 1hr 25 mins to do 15 km before the sub ten is in jeopardy …. Do I push hard on the next few loops and risk an injury to really hammer the time or do I defend what I have for a very successful sub ten?
Being honest – the decision was made for me when I spotted the Nutt at the next turnaround point – I was initially glad to see he was not asking what day it was and accusing people of nicking his bike. Not being 100% the brightest of sparks after 8 + hrs of exercise, I forgot the time difference due to the waves and viewed him as a direct threat to the club record which I secretly coveted (Sorry Sean!)
So I lifted the pace and went a Nutt catching…. Now putting it in perspective – I have always wanted to beat John ever since he first slagged me after a Fingal sprint triathlon some four years ago that I could not even beat an auld lad. If I had known it would have taken me over 15 or so races and a step up to Iron distance to rectify this, I would have retired on the spot.
As the distance narrowed – I thought about how I would celebrate my long awaited moment of glory … should I sing a Queen song about Barcelona/We are the champions, would it be a signature Moody bum pat as I passed by or a menacing nod that I meant business in case he choose to chase……
Oh the bum pat – it will have to be the bum pat….
In the end I did no such thing and shouted the encouraging words of “Come on Johnny we got this” and he shouted back “Keep it up Steve – looking good”. It was a nice moment between two club mates who had suffered at the hands of Roth and were putting things right.
For all the slagging between the pair of us (and lets face it JW gives as good as he gets) – I do respect Mr Wallnutt as a competitor – he is some 10 years my senior and he has consistently beat me hands down despite my best efforts over the years. It would have not been right to belittle that respect by touching his bottom in anyway – besides it was covered in sweat and saggy!
Now (although mathetically incorrectly) happy I had achieved a secondary goal of the club record I turned on my final 5km and could begin to enjoy myself.
As the finish chute appeared I did my usual point to the sky as a tribute to my Dad and started to aeroplane down high fiving spectators as I went.
Steven Moody – you are an ironman…… went the announcer
Oh you don’t know the half of it Pal ……
Actual run time 3 hrs 22 mins (avg 4:48 min/km) Plenty of room to spare ;-0
Finish time 9 hrs 51 mins
Reflections
Doing Ironman Barcelona was a gamble for me – I had no idea how it would pan out.
In the end I had a superb day in the office and for me it tops off a really hard year where I worked my socks off. I will enjoy being the club IM record holder as long as it lasts but I suspect that it may be a short lived tenure ….
I am also acutely aware that I would not have this and my sub 10 bragging rights if it were not for my coach’s guidance and my wider triathlon family’s support – thank you all – it was a fun year.
In terms of me getting too big for my boots – you lot will have Yvonne to thank for preventing that – as in addition to supporting me through this journey – she keeps me grounded too. Not least when we had some friends over for pizza/beers a few weeks before Barca and I was talking up my chances of dominating the triathlon world.
“You would want to learn how to fix a puncture first wouldn’t ya” she shouted over the room ….
As I said …. Grounded……
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