Firstly, apologies to the avid
readers of my blog for the lack of posts recently. It has in fact been
nearly 2 months since my last one! Those who know me personally will know
that quite a bit has happened; for the better and for the worse. I
can't use the excuse that nothing has happened as my reasons for not writing I
have just been either unable to emotionally or generally too busy.
So, the bad news. I shall keep
this short as it still tears me apart now. On Monday the 6th October I lost
another influential and inspirational woman in my life. My Nan, Joyce, lost her
battle to cancer. I can't call it much of a battle however as within a short 6
weeks of finding out she had cancer it had taken over my fighting fit 86 year
old nan. She was the woman you would've expected to receive the
letter from the queen after reaching 100. The 2 weeks preceding her death
were two of the hardest weeks of my life. Watching the deterioration of such a
beautiful, caring and kind woman was heart breaking. It tore me apart when she
eventually passed. When I say eventually I mean it in that watching her suffer
was so horrible you almost wished it to be over.
It is hard to describe how much
Joy meant to my family and me. She was the rock and Lego block to our family -
she held us all together. Apart from my own mum, who has learnt to be the best
mother from the best, I will never meet anyone like her. She was one of a kind
and had the most beautiful face and kindest heart. Many of my memories I have
as a child are with Joyce alongside Rosie. We would get spoilt rotten with Joy
on our trips to town and would spend hours in her house curling one another's
hair or playing with our latest purchases. Joyce made a huge impact on my life
and how I see it as well as how to treat others. Nothing was ever too much
trouble and she was so proud of us. If I grow up to be anything like the
woman she was I would have accomplished something worthwhile. I looked up to
her when she was alive and I still do. The only comfort any of us got from her
passing is that she has been reunited with the love of her life, Dave, and can look
after Rosie. There's another angel in heaven and one more star in the sky.
Joyce's sudden but also expected death all consumed me and I just couldn't work the night shifts I
was scheduled to work. I cannot thank Sky News for being as accommodating as
they were during this time.
Just over a week after Joyce's
death I flew to Peguera in Mallorca to compete in the European Triathlon Union
Middle Distance Championships where I would compete for my country in GB kit.
In all honesty I went into this race with an attitude that wasn't all there.
What I had achieved in Kona overshadowed it. I hadn't done much
training after Wales in fear I would push it too hard and not give me a chance
to recover properly. I used Ironman Lanzarote as my example - it took me 7 long
weeks, 2 illnesses and a DNS (did not start) at Ironman UK 70.3 until I had
recovered enough to train again (bear in mind not compete). I was also still
suffering over the loss of Joy - everything seemed a surreal blur.
However on
the 16th October I flew out with my Dad. My sister and mum where going to be
there too but made the decision during my Nan's illness they were not going to.
Peguera is a small town in Mallorca mainly dominated by Germans (obviously
nothing wrong with that 😜) and it was bloody hot (it hit 36 degrees on race day).
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| Not too shabby being a triathlete sometimes |
Another thing I did before race
day was have a massage. My writing cannot do justice for how surreal
this experience was. Having an old sleazy Spanish man doing it instantly
made me regret my decision. This was then followed by nearly an hour of my feet;
yes my feet, being massaged as well as an improvised attempt at my back
and legs that equaled about 10 minutes. I paid, although
begrudged having to do so, and his parting line was "You have a nice
body". I actually physically shivered in disgust.
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| The GB team - where's Hollie? |
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| Katerina and I before racking |
Race day:
The event was a half Ironman distance
event (1.9km swim, 56mile bike, 13.1 mile run - a half marathon). Even leading
up to this race I had still never completed this distance. How did I qualify
you ask? Well I used my time from Ironman Wales 2013 and as it is an endurance
event it was accepted. I had also never done this distance due to crashing out
the first year I tried in 2013 and then being too ill to do one in 2014 after
my poor recovery after my brutal Ironman Lanzarote experience.
Anyway, normally these silly
triathlons I have got myself into start at an unholy hour seeing me rise little
after 4am. However, Challenge (the race organisers) had made it a late start at
midday. I found this concept really weird and kind of unsettling although I can
see the concept of having more of an atmosphere near the finish around the
early evening when most finish (around 5-7hours). Having never done this
distance I didn't have a major time in mind but wanted around 6 hours. In
theory this distance should be quicker time splits than a full Ironman as it
has a little more speed to it than the full endurance an Ironman requires.
Swim:
I had breakfast as normal, had
some lunch (kind of) and then was on the beach ready for the start of the race
with Amy (we also managed a very subtle walk in the sea to relive ourselves -
from the look of people pretending to play with their Garmin’s whilst in the
water we weren't the only ones!). This event, also unlike an Ironman, was split
into wave categories. I was being set off with the female age groupers (other
European qualifiers although most of whom were GB) at 12.20 after the
professionals and men. Due to the temperature the swim was non-wetsuit which I
was pleased about. My times don't normally make any difference with or without
a wetsuit and with one just seems more faff upon getting out and you always
have the extra chance of getting chafing. After the rather freaky
start line music making you feel like you were walking to
your execution as opposed to a race we were off. I positioned myself
as per near the front of the pack. There was the expected hustle and
bustle but nothing like I'm used to in a big Ironman pack so it
was relatively calm once we had all settled into our rhythm. I can't
really remember much of the swim as I was just enjoying myself too much. The
clear sea was lovely and such a beautiful temperature to be swimming in.
Before I knew it I had turned the buoy and was on way back to land. Due to
our GB kits having the surnames on the backs when I saw 'Kilpin' next to me I
used it as extra motivation. I stuck to Amy all the way in and even ran out
with her in 33 minutes but she shot off like a bullet once on dry land.
Bike:
There was a 400m run uphill to T1. I
managed a 5min14 transition - which although wasn't amazing isn't as awful as
it sounds considering the run to T1 and then the epic run along the
longest transition racking I have ever witnessed.
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| Awful copyright but you get the idea I was on my bike |
The enjoyment I had during the
swim was not to last throughout the race. Almost instantly on the bike it
was evident this was going to be a struggle. I don't know what I was doing
wrong or not doing, but I could not push anymore no matter how hard I tried.
Was this all my previous events throughout the year finally telling me I had
done too much and was fatigued? Was my TT bike, which I had chosen to take due
to being a 'flat' course a bad move? Was I generally not trying hard
enough? Whatever reason my head then went to shut down as I demoralisingly saw
competitor after competitor overtake me, something I accept sometimes but not
to this extent since I first began triathlon 4 years ago. My km/h average
was slower than on the first leg of Ironman Wales, which is a steady climb
on rougher roads - what was going on?! What was also evident after 5km was
that it was far from flat.
Apart from being a constant
struggle there is not much more I can say about the bike leg. I hated it,
struggled from the get go and honestly didn't feel I deserved to be in the GB
kit I was proud to have put on that morning. I rolled in in 3h21 completely done
in. If I wasn't wearing the GB kit I may well have pulled out.
Run:
After a dogleg through the whole
transition whereby I actually walked I had some words to myself and began the
run. Running however was definitely not the word for what I did during the
next 2 and half hours (and yes disgustingly 2 and a half long bloody hours!).
Even jogging would be a compliment and have since named it stylised
plodding. The run course was brutal and sorry for my French but the advertised
flat and fast course is complete bollocks! It was a four-lap affair basically
climbing and descending twice each lap, which played havoc for us
competitors expecting a flat course. For me it was just what I did not want. My
mood had plummeted and I wanted out. Then if things couldn't get any worse
my lower back on lap 2 just went. I don't know how but every step
was excruciating. The way I ended up plodding/shuffling to try and
compensate for this couldn't have looked very Team GB for sure!
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| Sprint finish |
I did get a bit of a push,
literally, when Amy came and smacked my bum as she passed saying something loud
a probably rude. I didn't tell her until after the race that she
somehow actually missed my fat arse and hit my lower back where it hurt
and the smile I gave was in fact a grimace through pain. Even looking back on
that race I remember how much I detested it. I can honestly say I have never
had to use 'IronWill' quite as much as I did then and had I not been in GB
kit and letting people down such as my dad and ongoing supporters I would have
pulled out. This thought is something that has never crossed my mind in any
race so I owe me finishing that race to you all, so thank you! I crossed the
line with a sprint finish when another competitor tried to steal my red carpet
finish by taking me on (I won). I completed in a not very respectable 6hours
40 minutes - way below my potential. However it was over, I got another
medal to add to the collection and I got to compete for GB. You can't win them
all and this one I would learn from.
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| Another shiny |
What did I do after
finishing...well drink of course with my newfound triathlon friends. Several
margherita's later my dad and I stumbled back to the room in the
early hours. We were flying home later in the day (this really was a
flying visit). We got back home in the UK at 8.30pm and I had work in the
morning. Although the race didn't go to plan I had finally completed
a half Ironman distance event and also discovered in the painful process
it is not my distance. I am still disappointed with my time, staring at my time
splits makes me angry but in hindsight I am proud to have had the chance to
wear GB kit regardless of the time I got in it. I will never forget it and who
knows maybe one day I'll take it out from the depths of my wardrobe. For now it
is Ironman and my focus is on my journey to Kona. This new chapter began 4 days
after landing back in the UK from Mallorca when I moved to Lanzarote. My new
beginning...(to be continued)
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| Only do it for the cocktails really with these lovely ladies |
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