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Time for a New Adventure
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I'll reply properly tomorrow but needless to say, thank you all so much for following today and for the well wishes. Ye were with me every step of the way. Weather played ball to make it somewhat enjoyable. Hadn't expected to do as well as I did. Was hoping to sneak in under 24hrs but over the moon to do it in under 20. I left it all out there on the marathon
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Here's the first instalment
Bit of a prologue here. When I started my log on Boards just over two years ago and dipped my toe into this adventuring and multi-sport business, one of the first logs that I followed was Oryxs. One of the first race reports I read was Oryxs account of the Race in 2015. Her race report frightened the life out of me and thinking of her toughness in that race has got me through many a race since. The weather was relentless that year, so much so that the kayak section was cancelled and competitors had to run an extra 12km. One of the reasons that the race is run in March is that the organisers hope that the conditions will make this even tougher than it already is. I’ve always had this race at the back of my mind and after last years disaster, a friend suggested I give it a go. I was bitterly disappointed by what happened in ITERA last year and I felt I needed to prove to myself that I had the physical and mental toughness to finish something like this on my own – and so training began.
I went to Donegal with a plan, my race plan. First and foremost, I wanted to finish within 24 hours and beat all the cut-offs but I also had a best-case scenario plan that would get me around in 20 hours and 45 minutes. This is what I thought I was capable of doing if things went really well on the day e.g. the weather played ball, I was able to get enough food into me, no mechanical issues on the bike and no mess ups on the kayak. The only person I showed this plan to was Kieran so he would have a rough idea of when I would come into transition at Muckish, where I suggested he should meet me. I knew this was ambitious but I put in a good block of training and I also knew from being in Donegal and doing three stages of the course what I might be capable of. We had four boxes of gear, one for each transition and on the inside of each box cover, I had taped a print out of my race plan – the pace I needed to run/cycle the next stage, the time I was allowing myself in transition and the cut-off for the stage. The other promise that I had made myself was that I would keep moving forward all day. Stopping to enjoy the scenery or having a cry to myself was not going to get me to the finish line any faster so I vowed to keep putting one foot in front of the other all day long, no matter what happened.
When I look back on this race in years to come, the thing that will stand out most in my memory will be the support from people and the precision point organisation – the buy in from the local people and businesses is incredible. I have never witnessed anything like the support we got across every section of the 250km, not at any kind of race that I’ve done. This was a whole new level of kindness and unbelievable dedication from 5am in the morning until the time I rolled into the finish. I don’t think a car passed me all day without a beep, a wave or a shout of encouragement – there were people in the middle of nowhere shouting encouragement, offering support and generally being awesome.
Stage 1: 24km run with 136m elevation
Planned: 2:20 (9:30/mi)
Actual: 2:13:10 (9:03/mi)
Splits (in miles) 9:03, 8:46, 8:42, 9:06, 9:04, 9:02, 8:56, 9:00, 9:13, 8:56, 9:10, 9:15, 9:06, 9:19 (5:42)
This is advertised as a half marathon but it’s actually 14.65 miles as I found out from doing a recce of this section a few weeks back. Something that I was very glad I knew as even a small thing like a stage being one mile longer than what you have in your head can really throw you (or me?).
This run starts with about 2.5km of uphill and when I say uphill, I mean near vertical climbing – out of Gartan, race headquarters, onto the main road and through Church Hill before it begins to descend. I started conservatively and let lots of people pass me – whatever happened today, I was running my own race. Very quickly I fell into step with two guys and we chatted for two or three miles before I moved on – I was ahead of schedule but feeling ok so pushed on a bit. Before long I fell into line with another two guys, and as it happened, one of them, Mick, would turn out to be a good buddy by the time we finished the race. The guys were telling me about their ironman exploits and plans for the rest of the year. The miles were flying by.
We passed through Kilmacrennan, the half way point on the run, and the support from people, at 6am in the morning, was incredible. About a mile from here, it was just Mick and I happily chatting away. Mick had to stop to stretch his calf with 2km to go so he beckoned to me to keep going. I overtook two girls and we had a quick chat before I continued on. Before I knew it, I was trundling along by the river and heading into transition.
Transition: I had given myself 7 minutes to transition from run to kayak but got out in 5:08. I threw on the waterproofs – decided not to bother changing my runners, grabbed my paddle, PFD, a ham & cheese bagel and set about running the 600m towards the Quay. I gave the other half of my bagel to a complete stranger and asked him to dispose of it
It took me a few minutes to fit the back rest and adjust my PFD but very quickly I was on my way.
Stage 2: 15km Kayak from Ramelton to Rathmullen
Planned: 1:45
Actual: 1:29
You couldn’t have asked for better paddling conditions than this. The water was like a sheet of glass and so very calm and I was thrilled beyond belief. I put my head down and started paddling like I had when we recced this a few weeks ago. I wasn’t massively comfortable in the kayak because my left foot wasn’t quite flush against foot rest. I took a few seconds to try and adjust my position but the kayak spun around very quickly so I figured I’d have to live with it. I was delighted to see ribs and sea kayaks galore doing safety, I felt 100% safe here. During my prep for the race I had put a liner glove and a pair of sealskinz gloves in the box for the transition. The weather was ridiculously mild so I put the liners in my pocket and paddled with my bare hands.
I paddled along and got chatting to a guy who told me he’d give me anything for my back rest (he didn’t have one) so I suggested he tow me in return for the back rest The banter was good and the sun rise was spectacular. I passed Christine Mackenzie on the kayak, she seemed to be struggling without a backrest also. My thumbs were beginning to get sore from the paddle so I had a look and sure enough there were two bruisers of blisters on the inside of my thumbs – ah well nothing I could do about that now but grin and bear it.
About a km before the pier, Mick came up behind me and we enjoyed a chat before we came to shore. He knew I was nervous of the kayak so was as delighted to see me finish as I was to finish. I wasn’t quite able to run up the pier but I made a good attempt at a shuffle Mentally I had never looked too far past the first run and kayak – I figured if I could get past these two sections before the cut off, I would have as good a chance as any of finishing this race regardless of the conditions.
Transition: I had allocated myself 20 minutes to transition, eat something warm and warm up before the bike but I didn’t eat anything hot and got ready for the bike as quickly as possible. I had a bit of a dilemma in that the weather was relatively warm (though the ground was wet and it was cloudy) but nobody knew how cold or windy it would turn later, especially when it got dark out around the exposed headlands. If I choose my shorts I could freeze later but if I choose my thermal bib tights I could be much too warm. I opted for the tights because the weather is just so unpredictable. I came out of transition, grabbed my bike, with a peanut butter and jam bagel stuck in my gob looking for the mount line but I couldn’t see it and people just shouted at me to start cycling. This transition is built in to the stage 3 cycle time.
Stage 3: 96km Cycle with 1,235m elevation gain
Planned: 5:00 (20kph)
Actual: 5:27 (19.2kph - this includes the kayak to bike transition)
And I was off. After the kayak, this was the section that was most likely to break me – most people who have done this before have said that this is a ball breaker. It’s relentless in terms of climbing. This didn’t start too well to be fair. On the first set of hills, I was a bit dopey and not really with it. I was trying to use the momentum of going down one hill to give me a little bit of power up the next but on the first really sharp climb I didn’t drop gears quick enough and while off the saddle was struggling to turn the peddles and what happened? You guessed it, I didn’t clip out and toppled over like a prize numpty. Picked myself up, looked back to see if anyone had seen my fall, thankfully no one did and I hadn’t hurt myself. Had to walk up the first sharp hill pushing my bike like a pleb and massaging my ego.
I continued to be passed regularly enough, Christine Mackenzie passed me on a climb, jes can she climb well, she was powering up the climbs. It was disheartening to be passed by what seemed like a load of cyclists but I was cycling at 25kph so I was well within my target - I did my best to ignore the passers by and play the long game but it was mentally quite difficult to feel myself being pulled to the back of the field.
The hills, they just kept coming. I was prepared for this and from the recce we had done previously I had remembered that the first 35km is particularly hilly and after this I would get a 10 to 15km reprieve where I could actually get some momentum. The kms were ticking by oh so slowly with only myself to talk to and at 35km I was in a bit of a mental slump. The blisters on my thumbs were rubbing on the handlebars and I had reached the section where I thought I could gain some momentum but there was a strong head wind and it was like peddling up a hill. The kms kept ticking over so god dam slowly. It was here too that my right foot started to hurt. My foot was numb and felt awful so I was scrunching up my toes to try and kick off the circulation. I was wondering if perhaps the bike fit guy, in moving my cleats, had done more harm than good. It wasn’t so much a pain as an uncomfortableness but with a potential 7 hours of cycling still ahead of me, I was getting slightly worried. I was making a conscious effort to eat every hour and drink lots because of the heat and the fact that I was overdressed. I had no longing for food but was forcing nakd and bounce bars down my throat.
I focused on getting to the really pretty Mulroy Bay bridge that I remembered from our recce. The bridge had so many people on it with cow bells It was incredible, this couldn’t help but lift ones spirit and so it knocked me out of my slump and I was somewhat looking forward to heading out around Melmore head. This is an incredibly beautiful part of the country and it was especially pretty today though again the hills, they are just relentless. I came upon a racer up here and he was really enjoying the views, we chatted for a wee bit but I kept on pushing as he was looking over the stone walls. Though the views were incredible, I found it difficult to keep my head up when I were either pushing really hard up a hill or trying to control the bike on a decent. I had finished the 1.5 litres of water I had on the bike here and was planning on stopping to get water in a shop when two kind supporters asked if I needed water so I stopped and took a refill from them.
My right foot was really bothering me now and I had the longest and sharpest climb of the day, Salt Lake, just ahead of me so I decided to take the hit, stop at the side of the road for two minutes, use my inhaler, fuel up and see if I could sort out my foot problem. I had booties on, in hindsight, it was a stupid idea as it was so warm but I didn’t know how the day would pan out weather wise when I got out of the kayak and if I didn’t take my booties then, I didn’t have a pair in box for the second cycle. I took the booties off, put them in my bag and loosened my shoes a little bit. Hopped back on and felt some relief.
It wasn’t long before I was facing the start of the climb up Salt Lake. I was shovelling jelly beans into me in the hope that they’d get me to the top. This is a ball buster of a climb and there was a dose of people three quarters of the way up the hill so I too ashamed to stop and walk even though I really really wanted to – I was really struggling to get the pedals to go around and was afraid I’d take a fall from grace again, in front of all these people here cheering us on. My quads were in shreds, the burn, agggghhhhh but I had no choice but to keep pushing – urging myself to make all those early mornings on the wattbike count for something. On the other side of the hill there was a guy on the side of the road with two people around him, legs up in the air and roaring in pain - I later heard that he had really bad cramp and couldn’t drop his legs to the ground. I had almost 3 litres of water drank at this stage, the heat was very unexpected but I was very careful to keep hydrated and fed. In the Coast2Coast two years ago, I got dehydrated on the bike and all I wanted to do was sleep so I was adamant this wasn’t happening today.
There’s a long tricky decent off Salt Lake and another big climb before some meandering around the countryside and one last horrible push up a loooong drag to the bottom of Muckish. I could see the hill lined with supporters cars and 5 or 6 cyclists at different stages of the climb – they were all off their saddles and looked to be crawling up the hill. I knew this wasn’t going to be easy and it really wasn’t. If the route planners had been in front of me, I would have punched the daylights out of them. After a really difficult 100km of cycling, the sadistic b**tards decided to make us climb this blasted hill on the bikes before we had to climb the f**king mountain. My quads were screaming out in pain and I was raging It turned out that I didn’t get sad or too emptional during this race but it was rage that seemed to overcome me when I was finding the going tough
Transition: I had given myself 20 minutes but got in, changed my shoes, grabbed my poles and was out in 12 minutes. Just as I was leaving the container, Rachel was coming in off the mountain – we said a quick hello, bemoaned how our thighs were burning like hell and went our separate ways.
Stage 4: 5km mountain run up Muckish mountain
Planned: 1:10
Actual: 1:13
I was out of the container like a woman possessed As soon as the climbing started, my thighs were burning – crikey, that cycle had made s**t of my quads altogether - so I slowed to a walk and went as fast as I could without inflicting too much pain on my quads. Exchanged pleasantries with lots of people who were on their way down. I think I overtook one or two guys on the way up. Turned at the top and started skipping my way down. I was the only person there with poles but I was dam glad to have them – anything at all to save the knees at this stage was a bonus.
On the way down, boy was I in my happy place. I felt really good, I was bounding down the mountain and enjoying every second of it. I over took one or two people on the way down including Julie, one of the girls that I was sharing a room with. Lots of people talked after about how the mountain was the nail in the coffin but for me, it was a very welcome break from the relentless hill climbing on the bike and it gave me a new lease of life.
Transition: I had given myself 10 minutes to get in and get out but I overshot the mark by 3 minutes. The dilemma here was deciding what to wear as it was getting colder and chillier and making sure I had batteries and a head torch for the dark section on the bike.0 -
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Stage 5: 69km Cycle with 500m elevation gain
Planned: 3:30 (20kph)
Actual: 3:24:53 (20.4kph)
I hadn’t cycled this section of the course so it was all unknown to me but I had gone over it in a lot of detail with people who had done it. The first 10 – 15km is mostly downhill so I took the time to spin out the legs. I had stocked up on eat natural bars and a load of jelly beans and fruit pastilles in a bag that I’d mounted on the top bar of the bike. I forgot to close the bag and with the vibration on the way down the first hill, I was leaving a trail of jelly beans behind me :eek:
This first section, this was incredible and I thoroughly enjoyed every second of it. I was able to hold 28/29kph for the first 20km to 30km and the time was flying by. I also wasn’t being passed out by all the people that I’d caught on Muckish so I was really happy with myself. Yes, this is what cycling is all about, being able to feel the wheels spinning and make progress. I cycled into a town somewhere with a T junction and ground to a halt to wait to make the turn – the very lovely marshal at the junction was so encouraging and was even gushing at how young I was – thank you Miss marshal, you made my day
And then the hills started again, as I knew they would. As one point I was in the middle of some really barren landscape and I could see a white van about a mile ahead of me. The thought crossed my mind that I could be knocked out and my body dumped here and nobody would ever know what happened.
At about 25km I was grinding it out up a hill, some spectators greeted me and a minute or so later a guy pulls up beside me on a bike. I assumed me was in the race but took another look to see he was a regular cyclist. He was waiting for his friend but realised that he was still on Muckish so was on his way home to Gweedore and kindly kept me company for 10km or so. We chatted about the race and he told me the two leaders were half way through the final marathon. He gave me some good pointers on Thor, a long climb that was up ahead. I peddled through Gweedore, cursed the hills once again as I struggled to get the pedals to go around and up the pointy hills. This guy since found me on FB to congratulate me on finishing – this is just a taste of the kindness of the people in Donegal.
Next up was Thor, a looong meandering hill that climbs for about 4.5km on really rough bone rattling roads. It was a tough climb and so late in the day. I was trying to eat as many jelly beans and fruit pastilles as I could stomach to keep me going. At last I reached the top and a marshal warned me to be careful on the decent. The decent was about 3 – 4km but the roads were in bits with potholes and rivets cut out – I had to go really heavy on the breaks. I hit another low point here. Again I cursed the race organisers, how could they possibly send us on this ridiculous climb where we couldn’t even take advantage of the decent. My backside was in bits from the rattling and I couldn’t hold myself out of the saddle MTB style because my quads could no longer hold me. I was raging at just how difficult they were making this for us.
Eventually, the main road came and a reprieve from the bone rattling but the balls of my feet were now on fire from being off the saddle and pushing up hills all day long. I was about 20km from the transition and it couldn’t come quick enough. I was just tired and exhausted and burned from the dam bike. It was probably the longest 20km of the day, I wanted to stop and walk the hills but I found the will somewhere to turn over the pedals – I had promised myself that I would keep moving forward all day and that included staying on the bike.
Finally I saw Doochary in the distance and I nearly cried with relief. It was just after 7pm and I knew come hell or high water, I’d crawl the marathon in the 9 hours that I had left before the cut-off. The reception from people in Doochary was incredible once again. The transition was in a pub I think, I never even looked to be honest. They had tea/coffee and soup but I opted to get in and out as quick as possible so declined everything.
Transition: I had given myself 25 minutes as I knew it would be difficult to muster the energy to head out on the run but I was out in 19:24.
Stage 6: 42km run with approx. 450m elevation gain
Planned: 5:45 (13:00/mi)
Actual: 5:13:04 (11:55/mi)
First 14 miles splits before my watch died: 10:50, 12:20, 12:30, 12:22, 11:45, 11:25, 13:49, 13:02, 12:23, 11:32, 10:58, 12:04, 11:59, 11:32
I shuffled out of transition just after a guy and started walking in line with him. I asked him what his plan was for this and he said he’d keep walking until he felt like jogging. I told him that my strategy was to walk the uphills and jog the flats and downhills and asked if he wanted to join me. He told me that he’d done it last year and the first 13km was up hill so I wouldn’t be jogging much. With that, I started at a trot down a lonely one track road on my own. Of course I could only see as far as my head torch would light up so I wasn’t able to see the hills but as soon as my calves felt a bit of a hill, I stopped to walk. My watch was telling me that I was within my allocated 13 minute mile with each one that passed. It was a lonely old road and I wondered how I’d get through 6 hours of this on my own. Crikey it’s lonely out there in the dark on your own.
The strangest thing started to happen though. Cars would come by, they’d stop up ahead of me, turn off their engine, people would get out and just start clapping. Strangers, in the middle of the night, on a lonely Donegal road, clapping. This was just incredible. A really sweet guy offered me coke and I accepted, “it’s only coke zero I’m afraid” says he, it’s ok, I said, I’m watching my figure. It was like liquid gold Though I was finding this hard going, I was enjoying and savouring it.
It wasn’t long before a long ascent started, I knew it was long because I could see a head torch about a mile or mile and a half ahead or me and it was quite high up so I knew the big climb that I’d seem on the profile was coming up. I jogged as far as I could before I stopped to walk. I pumped my hands and made great progress – I caught the head light just before the top. It was a guy, he was moving slowly and he wasn’t really in the mood for talking so I kept going.
At the top of this hill, there were some volunteers checking on us and pointing us down a trail – the volunteer told me there was a nice downhill section here so off I trotted. I didn’t realise that there would be trail but I can’t tell you how glad I was to be on a trail. I was in my element, skipping on down the twisting and winding trail. It wasn’t technical but a wrong foot and I could have turned over on my ankle. I think it went downhill for at least 5km, I wanted to stop and walk but I kept my promise to myself to jog the downhill’s and get this over with as quick as possible. I passed three of four guys on this section – I’d stop for a minute and ask how they were but most said they were fine walking so I tipped along, more told me I was doing great and urged me on. I came upon Damien, who had kindly done the kayak and first cycle training session with me when I did the recce, he was with a friend who appeared to be mute. I tried to coax him into a jog but his Achilles was hurting and he told me to continue on. I realised at this stage that I must be doing ok as when I trained with Damien, he was ferociously strong and he was from these parts so knew all the course. I think I passed another one or two guys before I eventually came to the end of the lovely trail.
The St. Johns ambulance peeps were here to make sure that those going by were ok but as I was still trotting along they didn’t stop me. I saw the back of someone having some coke at the ambulance. It transpired later that it was Mick that I had ran with earlier in the day. The next road section was pretty boring and flat, there was a lake of a river on my left but no civilisation.
Before long though I was back on trail climbing again so I pumped my arms and walked up the hill as fast as my legs would carry me – it was roughly a 2km climb and then another pretty flat area. I caught up with Christine Mackensie here, her stomach wasn’t playing ball and she was hurting a bit so I jogged on. I had an idea at this stage that I could possibly be the fourth girl but I wasn’t sure and though it was mean spirited, I was chuffed to pass Christine – she had won the race in 2014 and 2016 so I must be going well.
The downhill trail started again and I was glad to be jogging again. I met a marshal who told me that I was about 11.5km from the end. My head torch started to blink here so I switched it off to save what was left for when I needed it and to have something to warn cars that I was out here. There was an almost perfectly full moon shining and I could see the silhouettes of the cows and sheep munching in the fields as I shuffled along – it was surreal and peaceful and so very enjoyable. Luckily all those night time runs on the pitches around Dangan have honed my night vision so I had no problem seeing where I was going.
About 4km of the way through this last section, the chip and Velcro around my ankle slid down and was chaffing the skin on my ankle. I stopped for a second to bend down and tighten it up to realise that if I bent down, there’d be no getting up – it was easier to deal with the chaffing
I was on a main road again now and a car passed me – I asked how far I had left to go (my watch had died) and they said “not far”. Seriously, when you have no idea how much you have left of a 250km race, “not far” doesn’t really cut it. I spotted a head torch up ahead and a red blinkey light so I jogged until I caught up with them – warning them in advance that I was coming as they couldn’t see me without my light. It was a guy walking but he was accompanied by a cyclist who was keeping an eye on him. I asked bike guy how far we had left, he said “5 or 6km”, I was happy with this but the guy walking ate the head of poor cyclist for not being precise enough. Poor bike guy. I jogged on knowing that I’d covered 5km so many times and I’d do it again. I couldn’t quite believe how well I was moving, especially when I was meeting so many people who were in obvious pain on this marathon.
I saw another head torch up ahead but figured it’d be another grumpy guy so didn’t make chase. At this stage Kieran came along in the car to say that I didn’t have far to go – he was telling me I had made great progress as he wasn’t expecting me in until 2am.
I shuffled on, savouring the end of this race, whooping and jumping about the place to myself. A van came from behind me and a very kind man told me that I had less than a km to go so I put a spurt on and headed for home. The feeling crossing the line was unbelievable – I had done it. Not only had I done it but I’d done it in under 20 hours. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would cross the line in that time.
I was greeted by Lonan and his sister Lisa who’d hopped out of bed when they heard my name called. I was dying to hear how Lonan did, he came an incredible fourth and he told me Rachel had won the ladies race – incredible (but I knew heading to Donegal that Rachel was in with a good chance of taking the title). Someone casually mentioned that I was fourth and that the third girl had finished just before me (2 minutes). Holy s**t – that head light was a girl, if I’d known, if only I’d known, I’d have chased her down – I had the beating of her. At the time, it didn’t bother me but it has chewed me up a little since. I made a mistake – I should have raced until the end instead of faffing about in that last 5km. A head light is a head light to be chased down, regardless of whether it’s a man or a woman. Still and all, Lonan and I both agree that fourth place is the best place to finish in a race
The atmosphere in Gartan was electric, there were so many happy people about the place. Every single person that finished the Race deserves serious kudos. Not one person went to Donegal without a serious amount of training behind them, many were there for a second time to lay to rest the demons of not finishing previously. A guy who I had met at the race briefing the night before came in at 2 minutes to 5, he had been pulled from the course the year before so came back to make amends, I have serious admiration for that guy.
The Race is tough but it’s doable I was extremely lucky in that I struck gold with the weather this year but I had prepared for the worst and I’d like to think that if we had been hit with bad weather, I’d had got around the course. The organisation of the Race is like nothing I’ve ever seen before – no stone was left unturned, we were treated with so much respect when it is these volunteers who should be thanked a thousand times over for the time and effort they put into making the race possible for us.
I’m still quite shocked at pulling it out of the bag like I did. It was incredible to see Kieran at the finish line. He’s put up with six months of me waking him at 6:30 every morning to head to the gym and weekends planned around my training sessions and he was a great support on the day.
Thank you to everyone here for the support since my fall from grace last August and for the advice and encouragement along the way. Reading back over the commentary while you were tracking me is great and fills me with pride – if only ye were able to scream loud enough that I was closing in on the third placed girl
6 weeks to the Connemarathon eeeeekkkkkkk0 -
if only ye were able to scream loud enough that I was closing in on the third placed girl
6 weeks to the Connemarathon eeeeekkkkkkk
Next time bring your phone and we'll text you.
I don't think there are enough superlatives to cover what you did last weekend S, here's a few to start of with anyway..
excellent, magnificent, wonderful, glorious, marvellous, brilliant, supreme, consummate, outstanding, prodigious, dazzling, remarkable
I'm in total awe, watching your dot, especially through the final stages on the bike and then the marathon as you passed dot after dot was thrilling. All your hard work has truly truly paid off and I couldn't be more delighted that you far exceeded your goal.
Bring on Connemara, I feel a bit sorry for nop cause really your just gonna kick his ass :pac:0 -
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