A Nice Day in Northampton

Remember, remember... the 9th of September. Okay, that's not how the verse goes, but for me this happens to be a date worth commemorating. It marks a week of living at a new age and, in recent years at least, seems to be a day for reaching preposterous goals.

Last year, Sep 9 was the day I finally joined the ranks of the Elder Ones on the Mountain of Madness with a sub-35 minute grind time. This year the date was marked by the Northampton olympic distance triathlon: probably my final race of the season and, coincidentally, a qualifier for the 2008 world age-group championships in Vancouver! The improbable goal was to break the shackles of my previous 2hr40min performances and finally reach the sunny side of 2:30. Going under two and a half hours is a standard that lets one plausibly claim "hardcore" status. For example, at the London Triathlon (world's largest) if you can show proof of two olympic distance performances at sub 2:30 you get to race on the same course and under the same conditions as the pros. It's like getting one of those neat blue or green bibs at the SunRun so you can start in the sub 40 minute cohort. "Look at me, I'm a blue dude!" you beam. People in the Hotel Vancouver windows gaze down at you with admiration and lust. The HSBC bankers throw you money. The Fitness World dancers throw you their underwear. Friends in the back ranks weep with envy. And so on.

Believe it or not, it has been over three years since my last standard distance triathlon. That was the 2004 Sri Chinmoy in Victoria, where I struggled through in 2:40:17. Not much different than my performances at the 2004 Squamish Tri and the 2003 Sri Chinmoy, each of which saw me languish to the tune of 2:40. It's not a sweet sound, my friends. Never did the swim under 30, never did the run under 47. Since that time I have eschewed long or intense running sessions because of my oft-lamented ass problems. But being a research student again has several benefits, the most obvious of which is time/flexibility. This year I have been more focused with my training and have worked a whole load of rehab (really, an absurd amount) into my running sessions. The annoyance of doing this would drive most gnomes to quit and go back to building mushroom mazes! But not me, not yet.

The Northampton Triathlon weekend took place in and around Grendon Lakes. This is a rather forgettable piece of the Northamptonshire countryside (in fact, despite styling itself "the rose of the shires", Northamptonshire is really quite dull). The highlight is probably the M1 to London.

The main race began just after 8:15am on a reasonably pleasant, somewhat overcast day. Ms Muppet helped me get set up and off to the edge of the lake, where the 30-39 yr old men were about to begin. And off they go! This was a rather small lake so the course was a circuitous zig-zag affair, often bringing the athletes close to the shore where you had to swim through a profusion of seaweed/underwater jungle. The stuff was hiding just below the surface to trick unwary mariners, like some hideous piscoloth demons. Honestly, at a few points I thought my arms would get stuck in the reeds. But I laboured on, feeling ill and dropping back of the faster pack within the first 500m (as per usual). Feeling like shite at this point is something I now accept as normal. The key is to trust in your training and ability, not panicking about the speedsters who've left you behind. The result I wanted was a modest 28 minutes, enough to maintain some self respect and to get on with the real race. Result - 24:30.

Come again? Well, based on the times posted by the elite racers I am certain that the swim course was a bit shy of the alleged 1500m - probably more like 1350 to 1400m. No matter, even extrapolating to that distance I would have done about 27 minutes. So hurrah!

There was a longish run from the lakeside up to the transition, where I got to see the smiling face of Ms Muppet, remove my wetsuit, and chortle about my ludicrous swim time. My transition was relatively efficient, even managing to pass two guys in the bike mount/dismount area with my "flying leap" (not of the highest standard, but effective).

The cycle course was a 37.5km route through rolling countryside, mercifully free from vicious winds and lorry traffic. My cycling, while better than it has been, could still benefit from some improvement. I was content to pass the recreational folks (there weren't many of these) and was pleased to see that the only people overtaking me were lightning speedsters with £4000 bikes, disk wheels, aero helmets and the lot. It was amusing to pull into the finishing stretch with the lead pack of the 40-49 yr old men, whose swim wave started 10 minutes after mine.... The seven or eight of them were drafting like a house on fire, cavalier about the risk of disqualification. My bike time: 1:08:06 plus transitions for a respectable time of 1:12:51.

As the run began I was in the pleasant and unexpected position of not needing a 45 minute run to break 2:30 overall, but sitting back just seemed wrong. I wanted 45 and wouldn't let it elude me for another season. It helped that the run course was very flat. However, it involved a lot of sandy tracks that made for some questionable footing and traction. Urged on by the cheers from Ms Muppet and some other Oxonians, I completed the three laps in about 14:45, 15:10, 14:57(ish) for a 10km split of 44:52!

A final time of 2:22:15 was just delightful (overall results are here). There was much rejoicing among the gnomes of the western wood. I expect that the underwater vine terror of Grendon Lakes did not rejoice, as everyone who started the swim also finished it. The creature will have to wait until another day...