Ironman Copenhagen - 20th August 2017

I guess, like many people, or rather triathletes, the idea of completing an Ironman is both exciting and insanity in equal measure. It’s been on my bucket list for a while, but without being able to swim, there was no way I could even start let alone finish, even a sprint triathlon. So, my journey started 3 years ago with swimming lessons.

A year of Tri Surrey and a number of triathlons later, I decided I should just really take the plunge, and in September 2016, I signed up for Ironman Copenhagen. Why Copenhagen? Well I’d spoken to a few people who had done that particular race and recommended it – fast, flat, easy sea swim, fantastic run support and PB territory. As it was my first, I wanted to pick a race that was at the easier end of the long distance triathlon spectrum, whilst recognizing that no Ironman race is easy! Why Ironman? Well…. I wanted the M-dot tattoo!

Button pressed and training could start. I signed up with a coach who would set my programme for me every 2 weeks and adjust according to how I was performing and what my personal commitments were.

Training started in October – a full 10 months before the race – plenty of time. I won’t bore you with training, suffice to say I was very lucky in that 10 months - no injuries, no illnesses, full time athlete from May 2017. It was intense. There were many times I came back from training sessions, questioning what I was doing, why had I embarked on this journey, I was knackered after a 3 hour bike ride – that was only half of what I had to do in the full race – not to mention the swim before and a marathon afterwards. I must be insane. My family and most people outside Tri-Surrey, thought the same thing. Thank goodness for the support and encouragement of the #pinkandbluearmy. Training had its dark places.

August arrived all too quickly frankly, but by now I was starting to get excited – I’d trained enough, I just wanted to get on with it now. So off to the land of Hans Christian Anderson I go… family in tow for the all important vocal support on the run part. One and a half days in Copenhagen to register, rack, check out the start and transport for getting there on race morning. I planned my journey to the start probably about 3 weeks before getting to Copenhagen, so this was all about the execution! I registered on Friday evening and got all my race stuff, and then collected my bike on Saturday morning. Back to the hotel to pack all the relevant bags for transition, get my bike prepped and after some lunch, headed down to the race start to rack the bike and check out the swim venue.

Miguel had done a practice swim a few days before and reported that the lagoon was full of seaweed and had a current – that did nothing to calm my nerves, given the swim was the element I was most concerned with. I decided not to practice swimming – and arriving at the swim start and T1 on Saturday afternoon, I saw the wind was whipping up the water. Great! Sea water, seaweed, current and choppy waters… Oh well... it will be what it will be – I can’t change what I can’t influence, so apply rule #5.

Bike racked and transition checked out. I walked my route 3 times so I was sure where my bike was racked and how I’d get to it post swim. Checked in my red run bag, and hung my blue bike bag on the pegs at swim exit and carried out yet another check of the transition route and cycle exit. I wrapped the seat, handlebars and drive train in black bin liners to protect against any possible downpours overnight (Thanks to Jenny Millet for that, following her Outlaw Half experience).

All done, nothing left to check, just needed to relax, eat and get to bed at a reasonable time and be prepared to enjoy the day tomorrow. After all, it’s just a day out, doing 3 things I enjoy doing.

Back to the hotel, and an earlyish tea. What to have? I’d had pizza at lunchtime, so thought I’d go for the risotto… plenty of carbs there! And lots of peas as it turns out! Back to the room and one final check of stuff for the morning, breakfast prepped and ready to go. Into bed and lights off at 22:00.

Inevitably I didn’t sleep well, waking on numerous occasions with nervousness, and at one point around 0100 I woke feeling quite nauseous! The pea risotto was repeating on me… bugger – why did I just not have a safe pizza… I feel sick now – if I throw up I’ll have lost all that food before the race… please don’t be sick! Luckily I wasn’t and managed to get back to sleep. Next time I woke the nausea had gone, but it was still 2 hours to go before I had to get up! I eventually woke 2 minutes before my alarm at 04:13. I was leaving the hotel at 05:10 to walk to the tube and meet Miguel at 05:35 ready for the 05:40 tube to the swim start. Although my wave wasn’t going until 07:40, I like to be early - ask any member of my family and they will tell you I prefer getting to places early with a large amount of contingency time, to cope with any eventuality. I figured 55mins was enough time to get up, get dressed, eat breakfast in the dark, have the obligatory visit to the loo, check everything again and get out of the hotel. Breakfast consisted of 2 tubs of porridge, 2 bananas and a beetroot shot. At 0430 in the morning, it’s a challenge to consume anything, let alone two porridge pots.

I left the family still sleeping and was out of the hotel and walking to the tube, just as the sun was starting to come up. It was dry and not cold and the weather forecast for the day was a mixture of sun and showers at around 19 degrees, so ideal for racing.

I arrived at the tube station, just as one train was pulling in – as I suspected it was packed! But as I said I’d wait for Miguel I couldn’t board, so watched it disappear again crammed with Ironman wannabes. Miguel arrived and we waited for the next train 10mins later. This one was more full!! Great! My experience of getting onto full trains from Clapham Junction on a Twickenham match day held me in good stead though… this was not one of those “full” trains – I’d managed fuller trains before. In true English Rugby supporter fashion I was getting on that train, and nothing or no-one was stopping me. Successfully on, we set off – first obstacle accomplished! We arrived at the beach park stop at about 05:50, and set off on the 20min stroll to transition. Nerves were starting to kick in. Crossing the bridge over the lagoon, I noticed that the water was a lot calmer than yesterday… that helped to relax me a little.

I got into transition said good luck to Miguel and headed off to prep my bike… but first I’ll queue for the loo again! Not a pleasant experience within the portaloo… it seems most people have a problem before a big race. All done, and back to the bike to remove all the bins bags – a worthwhile exercise as it had rained overnight. Another banana and another walk of the transition route from swim exit to bike to bike exit, before deciding to don the wetsuit and head to the swim warm up area. En-route, I bump into John, Dan and Miguel and we get the obligatory pre-race Tri Surrey group photo. We wish each other luck and I head off to the swim warm up area. Way too early for my warm up time, but I thought I’d get there early, soak up the atmosphere, figure out where I was supposed to go, etc, etc. The swim warm up seemed to be a bit of a free for all – all coloured hats were going in, some people standing on the edge of the water, some people standing in the water, some people standing up to their waist in the water (we know what you’re doing), and some people swimming. I joined the people standing up to their waist! And then went for a little swim out and back – how salty was the water? Luckily not too bad… and the seaweed was more like pond weed – stuff I encounter in lakes all the time back home. I’ve done Thorpe park – this can’t be as bad as that!!

Finishing my warm up I come out, but stand in the water doing some arm swings and just thinking about my swim… and thinking that I may have done the swim warm up a bit too early as I’m now a little too cool, and it’s only about 07:10… still 30mins to go. I hear the announcer say that the water temperature is 18.8 degrees – perfect! Standing in my own little world, enjoying the sun coming up, listening to the start line music, thinking about my swim, I hear a voice behind saying “He’s there… Dad!”. I turn round to find Olivia and Bron have made it down to see me start (Josh was still in bed!).

Together we watch the elite women start – running into the water and diving and then swimming… bugger, I can’t do that, I thought to myself. As the faster swimmers left and it got towards us slower swimmers, I realised that most people were like me and ended up just walking into the water, setting off at their own pace. “Good luck, we’ll try and spot you on the bridges…”, as I headed off to join my wave. I need another wee!! I know I can’t wee while swimming, so what the hell... let’s just go now while I’m waiting in line. Shuffling forward to join the start lines, I went… it felt like I’d filled my wetsuit – thank god I managed to go before the start of the swim – nobody was any the wiser. I joined my line with the 5 other athletes going with me. Every 6 seconds another wave of athletes would run into the water. I was getting closer and closer. The hooter went… It was my turn… I was off… Running into the water I heard a voice behind me shouting, “Go, Dad, Go!”. It was Olivia – she’d managed to get right next to the start line and was waiting on the water’s edge for me to enter.

I was off and swimming. Trying to find a reasonably clear stretch of water to find my own rhythm. There was jostling, I was being pushed a bit too far to the right of the first turn buoy, but there was plenty time to bring it back. In the initial melee I did seem to swallow more than my fair share of water – and more than I was used to from other races! I eventually found space, made it round the first turn buoy and headed to the first bridge. The first bridge signaled 600m done – that’s pretty much one loop of divers cove, only 5 more to go. The next 600m seemed to take a bit longer, but I was swimming my own race and the field had spread by then so jostling was a minimum. The water was nice and calm and not very salty, so it was very much akin to lake swimming – that helped me a lot. Second bridge arrived - 1200m. Just a 600m loop back to this bridge and I’ll be pretty much half way. Result! Round the two turn buoys, I pick up a bit of weed, which lodges itself on my timing chip, and no amount of kicking was dislodging it… it tickled my foot for the whole of the rest of the swim. I managed to remove it in T1!! The water was really shallow at that point and I could virtually touch the floor. I noticed that someone had stopped and stood up just off to my right. Probably needs a wee I thought. Do I need a wee? No. Maybe I should stop here just in case. No, don’t be silly you’ve been 3 times this morning. Actually, I might just try. No, too late, shallow bit has gone, can’t stand up now. I’ll be fine – bound to be another shallow bit somewhere. There’s the bridge. I’m pretty much half way. Another 600m and I’ll be at the next bridge – 2400m – then that only leaves an Olympic to do. I felt a tap on my feet… a second tap, “yes?”… a third tap… “have a break – you’ve got the whole sea”… a fourth tap… turns out you can’t say “Fuck off” while swimming without swallowing a shed load of water. At that point Stacey would have been proud of my kicking, and somebody else is writing their race report with “…at about 2000m, I was royally smacked in the face with a foot”.

As I pass under the next bridge I turn to breath and hear the shouts and screams from people cheering on the bridge. Was that Olivia and Bron? Did they spot me? Are they cheering me on? Blimey! How on earth did they see me? Olivia is very good at spotting me swimming – but that’s amazing. How cool. I later discover it wasn’t them, they couldn’t spot me and once they were on the bridge realised how much of an impossible task that was, with pretty much everyone in the same colour swim cap and a black wetsuit!! Still, it kept me thinking for the rest of the race.

So, a weedy Olympic distance to go – I did this at Thorpe in the summer – it’s fine. An Olympic is a little more than 2 laps of divers. 2 laps!! That’s it, and my IM swim will be done. At that point a swimmer started to swim on my left and proceeded to drift into me. “Come on” I thought, I’m here. But that didn’t deter them. Have I drifted? Usually I’m pretty good at maintaining my line, but maybe not. I sighted… nope, I was bang on – they were off... but still they kept coming... to the point that I actually had to stop and let them cut across in front of me, before I could swim again. Looking up I was still bang on course, and they looked like they were making a 90 degree b-line for the shore – until after 5 or 6 strokes when they did look up and decided now was the time to correct. Some people really need to learn how to sight!!

That last 1500m felt very long indeed. Mainly because my body decided it did actually want to wee, but I’ve never managed to do it while swimming – so there was a mental battle going on against the discomfort of needing a wee, and the distance I still had to swim.

Finally the last turn buoy. I could now spot the finish gantry – but it always seems to take longer to get to than you think… and today was no exception. Eventually I arrive on the ramp and run up into transition. The swim is done. My least comfortable discipline in the bag. How quick? I check my watch… Oh! 01:28… not the 01:21 I thought, but hey – I did it without drowning. It’s done.

I jog into transition unzipping my wetsuit and get my blue run bag from my peg. Head over to the benches, expecting them to be empty given my swim speed, but no – there were quite a few people there. I find a spot and get my wetsuit off. Open my blue bag and try to remember what I’m supposed to be doing, and where do I put stuff while I’m getting ready? I know, I’ll put my helmet on now, so it’s out of the way. What’s next. Cycle top. Bugger – helmet needs to come off, cycle top on – a race fit cycle top is a challenge when you’re wet! Socks on, shoes on, helmet on… right now the loo. Ahhhh…… Ok, sunscreen John said – get that slapped on en-route to my bike and chuck my blue (now swim) bag in the bins for transport to the finish. Pulled my arm warmers on (was a bit worried about getting cold), and eventually got to my bike. Off to the mount point and we’re away. A shout of “Woohoo… go Dad, go” from the grassy bank as I briefly spot Bron and Olivia, before shooting past and away…. On the 180k bike course.

The weather was still good at this point, I relaxed, told myself not to go too quickly. I had a strategy, I needed to stick to it – relax and enjoy. I started to pass a few slower people but my speed was ok, I was comfortable. I wasn’t able to attend the race briefing on Friday, so had checked with Miguel if there was anything I should be aware of. There was a portion of the bike course early on where overtaking was not allowed and would be an instant DQ, about 6k into the course, but it would be signed – somewhere after a construction zone. I arrived at an area which looked quite narrow, but there was no signage. I passed a marshal and then came up close to a woman in front going half my speed. I slowed to go behind her, but she was way too slow and I ended up going past – as someone ahead of me had done. Then panic set in. Was that the no overtaking section? Did the marshal see? Am I getting DQ’d… a whole year of work and training for this, and DQ’d for something as stupid as overtaking. What have I done? Will I get to the end and find my result is DQ’d… Damn, damn, damn, why did I do that… Right. Focus. It wasn’t signed. It probably wasn’t the place. Focus on the race. A few Km later there was a cycle bridge, which was signed as “absolutely no overtaking”… that must have been it. Phew!!

It wasn’t long before I left the city behind and headed out up the coast. My speed was good and on target and I tried to look out at the sea and surrounding scenery and take it all in, to help pass the time. Enjoy! The turn back inland came quicker than I thought, and very soon we were into rolling countryside, with the added bonus of a headwind! Someone said that the inland section would be sheltered from the wind… they were wrong! The bike course was closed roads – first time I’ve raced on closed roads and it was fabulous – not having to worry about idiot drivers and their lack of highway code knowledge. The scenery was lovely and the ride was undulating – certainly not what I’m used to in the Surrey Hills, so this was all good for my ride time. Heading back towards the city, we travelled along a stretch of motorway. One lane had been closed off for a good 10 miles or so, and this was a super fast part of the course. Lovely roads. I was starting to pass more and more people on the bike which was boosting my confidence. I was also getting uncomfortable in the aero position and wondered how long I could last. Could I do the whole race in that position, or would it be just too much? As I approached the end of the motorway section, there was a steep climb which was fully spectated and had a tour de France style of funnel as I approached the summit with people cheering and running beside me – just like the real thing. That was fabulous. A real boost, and something to look forward to on the second loop.

From here I was heading back to the city and getting close to the half way point. My nutrition was on track, my hydration was slightly behind, my speed was on track. This is good. I’ll stop at the aid station just at the start of loop two and get two fresh bottles, making up my own drinks ready for loop two. I’ll also stop for a wee…

Through the city and back out onto loop 2. Great – more than half way now. I arrived at the aid station – chucked both bottles into the bottle net at the start of the aid station and successfully managed to grab 2 water bottles in one hand as I passed the first marshal. Pretty pleased with myself, I then wondered why I’d risked that given I was stopping here anyway to put my tablets into my drink and have a comfort stop. As I slowed to a stop near the loos, one of the marshals ran over and said “I’ll hold your bike for you”. “I’m going to the loo”, I said, and she replied “That’s ok, you don’t want your expensive bike lying on the ground”. I fell in love! I queued for what seemed like forever, thinking “What are people doing in there?”. Eventually a loo became free, and I very quickly came to realise what people were doing in there! All I wanted was a wee!! Breath held, wee done, I came back to my bike in absolute torrential rain and no sign of it letting up anytime soon. I took the decision to don my rain coat, mix my water bottles, and move some nutrition from my pockets to my frame bag, all while the marshal held my bike. It turns out she was Danish, but had lived in London for a few years, before moving back to Copenhagen. Very nice lady! Mixing done, chatting done, clothing donned, I was off. The rain was biblical. I was glad I’d put my jacket on – there were some very wet people on their bikes!

Up the coast in torrential rain for about 50km before once again turning inland and having the headwind, but at least the rain had stopped. It was warming up a little bit, but I was still comfortable with my jacket. Clouds went and the sun came out. Now getting quite warm. Do I make it all the way to T2 in my jacket, or lose more time and take it off? Too hot. Need to take the jacket off – so a quick stop to remove the jacket, and then off again through the rolling Danish countryside. Back on the motorway and flying down towards the city. This is great. All good. Still feeling strong. Looking forward to the Tour de France style tunnel again – that was fun. Arrived at the hill to find a lot less spectators this time… they’ve either got bored, or the rain frightened them off (to be fair it was pretty horrific). So only a little cheering the second time round. Oh well, not far to go now, only about another 40km or so… that’s a little over an hour….

Flying back into the city I approach T2, and ride alongside an element of the run course. There are a lot of runners out there already. As I approach T2, I wonder whether the family would realise that the bike course runs close to where we’d arranged they would be cheering from? “Dad, Dad, Go Dad!”. Yes they did! I fly into T2, an underground carpark, dismount gingerly given how wet it is and hand my bike over for racking. Run to pick up my red run bag and find a spot. I’m going to change my socks too… they’re soaking wet and dry ones will feel so much better. So cycle top off, arm warmers off (yes I still had them on), helmet off, dry socks and running shoes on, parachute on, hat on, sunscreen all over (you never know) and off up the ramp to start my run.

Running up the ramp out of the underground car park was the first challenge! I arrived at the top and thought “Running, this is me, this is what I enjoy, I can do this, don’t go too quickly, pace it, nice and easy, enjoy” and set off following the course… oh, this is not the way I thought I’d go first, I’m now thrown and think, have I come the right way? Have I missed a bit? Surely I can’t have done. I followed all the signs, I must be right, there was no other way to go, it’ll be fine.

The run is 4 laps. 4 laps of 10k. And 10k I eat for breakfast! So, get two of those out of the way, and there’s only a 10k left and 2 park runs… and I don’t do park runs… they’re too short…. First aid station, well I’m not stopping here, I’ve barely got going. I then spot a low level board by the course. What’s that? A distance marker. It read Lap 1 – 2k, Lap 2 – 10k, Lap 3 – 20k, Lap 4 - 30k, Lap 5 – 40k. Shit, I’ve only gone 2k, I feel knackered. How the hell did Jenny Millett do a 3:35 marathon on her Outlaw course? Respect! After that I found my rhythm and felt very comfortable. Boom. Got it now. I’m enjoying this. I’m going to be an ironman! First lap band obtained green – great. Onto the second lap only 3 to go. I’ll start using some of the aid stations now. Bit of flat coke, bit of banana, bit of electrolyte drink from the parachute. Sorted. Lap 2 great – yellow band obtained. Only the blue and red to go. Still on track, albeit slowing a little, but that’s understandable. Family cheering at two points on the run course, “Go Dad!”, “You’ve got this”, “Come on”. This second loop is quite long. Still, I’m nearly half way. Feeling a bit sick, I take on some more fluid. Loop 3 started. Feeling really sick now... shit! I arrive at the family’s cheering point and say, “This is hard now”. I get the response “Of course it’s hard, but you can do this, you’ve got this… come on Dad”. The tears welled up at that point, I don’t feel well. I’m going to have to walk. Walk! Bugger – didn’t want this to happen. Walk to the next aid station, get some fluid and banana and try again. It felt like forever to the next aid station, but once there I took my time, flat coke, banana, a little water and then off again. Lasted about 500m and then walked. Run/walk, run/walk now. This is not going to plan. Next aid station refueled and started to run again. Second wind. Feel ok now, not as sick. Great, let’s keep going. Past the lap/finish point. That’s the last time I have to pass that circle. Next time I’ll be diverting down the finishing chute. I lasted to the family cheering point. Olivia running alongside me saying “Come on Dad, you can do this, keep going”, Josh shouting from behind “You’ve got this”.

Not far to go now. Less than a lap, I’m nearly within sight of my red final lap band. More run/walk, run/walk. Sub 12hrs is out the window now! Still, I will finish this. Red lap band, that’s it home straight, come on. The last lap seemed like forever. Focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, just keep moving. I will run the final 1k. 3 aid stations later I’m there. The final 1k. it’s just around the corner, over the bridge, past the café, down the chute. I’m running, I’m going to finish, I will do this. It starts to rain, and I mean rain – torrential like nothing I’ve experienced before. My thoughts went out to all the spectators as I thought how miserable must it be to be standing in this monsoon waiting for someone to finish. I, on the other hand, didn’t care. I was wet, getting wetter, but now wetter than when I’d been swimming 12 hours earlier! I was going to be an Ironman! I passed the café to see John cheering me on, under cover of the overhang, and taking a pic as I passed – I actually look happy! I was happy! 100m to go! Turned into the finishing funnel to hear the screams and the cheers and to see that Ironman red carpet under my feet. My arms were up, the line was there, I was running, savouring every moment of that final few feet, and hearing those ever lasting words “Andy Cowen, you… are…. an Ironman”. I’d done it! I’d actually done it! I was an Ironman.

Going long is not easy, it’s not something you can rock up and do on the back of a couple of long rides and runs. It takes commitment to training and it does take over your life. Having the understanding and support of your family and friends is essential. Having a club like Tri Surrey to help and encourage is gold dust. Is it worth it? Absolutely.

“Pain is temporary, Glory is forever”.