If life's a game, who's the dealer? A weekend in Snowdonia

  After work on the Wednesday I went swimming with the tri club. There was one major reason I was doing this. I wanted to collect my new Chiltern Tri cycling jersey so that I could wear it during the Snowdonia Slateman on the Sunday. I only had enough time to quickly eat some beans on toast for dinner before heading off to swimming. I had intended to take this session easy, but loved being back to length swimming with others that before long I was pushing myself. Thankfully I had packed all my gear for the weekend the night before as when I got home I was knackered. I couldn't wait to sleep that night as it meant I was closer to leaving for Snowdon the following morning.

Thursday



Our cottage; the weather does look pretty foul
but it wasn't raining!

As I mentioned previously Dan could not come for the weekend therefore instead of going alone Dan's parents and his two young sisters joined me. After a military operation of cramming my car full of our gear we were on our way at 10.30am. There was a very important game to be played during the journey and that is 'Eddie Stobart'. This is a game that Phil (Dan's dad) has had the genius to make up. It is a pretty simple game; if you see an Eddie Stobart truck shout out Eddie Stobart. The first person to do so gets the point. There are also different scoring amounts depending on what you see. If you see a trailer that is half a point, if you see a truck and trailer that's point, if you see a car transporter that's five points and for the rarest Stobart, the petrol tanker, of which there is only one in the country, you get 10 points (none of us have ever seen this except for on the Eddie Stobart TV programme - and yes I watch that). You also get a point deducted if you falsely shout. Phil quickly took the lead in the game but his form faltered. At the end of the 4hour journey I had won with 24 Eddie Stobarts to Phil's 22 and Sonia's, Dan's mum, effort of 8 (she saw the car transporter). We got to the cottage at 3pm and were pleasantly surprised with the weather, it was sunny and lovely! I just hoped this would last the whole weekend. The cottage itself as well was perfect.

  Although we felt lethargic I managed to get Sonia to come out for a short 3mile walk to survey the area. When we got back we drove around the beautiful scenery in Snowdonia to go to dinner with Dan's nan who happened to also be staying in Snowdon at the same time. We had some stew and then went back to our cottage to sleep ready for an early start.



My two materialistic babies in Snowdonia; my car (white beauty) and my bike (Sora)


Friday 

A picture when nearing the summit

  Phil and I were out of the door at 8.30am ready for our climb up Mount Snowdon. We got a full English breakfast for some much needed energy and were beginning our ascent up Snowdon by 10am. The weather was perfect (perfect for me when walking means no rain!). We decided to walk up the Pyg track to the summit. This began with some clambering over rocks which didn't really stop until nearing the summit. I was loving it, as I always do when hiking. We both commented how it brings the better side of a person out. People who when put in a different environment or situation wouldn't even acknowledge you do so openly when walking by saying hello and wishing you well. I soon vowed that I needed to start doing more of it again like I used to. As always I was rambling on, but soon realised I should stop babbling on as I wasn't getting any response from Phil. He was focussing on getting up and wasting energy and breath talking wasn't happening for him. As always I began to make a competition. I didn't want to be overtaken and if I overtook someone I had to stay in front.

We were overtaken by a group of three young guys when having a water break and I was not happy about it. They probably were walking around the same pace as us, so when they passed I knew we wouldn't catch them up again. I had to let this one go. As we neared the last 1km to the summit the weather dropped as we ventured into the clouds. I could no longer slow my pace or keep stopping for Phil as it was making me freezing cold so I carried onto the top alone. With about 0.5km to go I saw the three guys who overtook me just in front. I sped up and soon enough had gained enough on them to get past them. The shock and horror on their faces was priceless.

  

  I would say that reaching the summit was euphoric, but I can't. I was pleased to get to the top and felt a sense of achievement but I wasn't amazed. This could have been down to the fact that I could barely see anything in front of me so therefore could not see the reason why many people walk up mountains; the view. But the real reason I thought I wasn't euphoric was that I didn't find it that hard and I don't mean to sound arrogant here. However, I still had a massive grin on my face when at the very top with Phil and I was even more pleased when I realised I reached the summit in 1h30. I think I was more happy for Phil as he had finally made it to the summit after failing to do so due to horrific weather a year ago with his sons.


Phil and I at the top (look at that view haha)

   When in the cafe at the top we bought a Snowdonia Ale to drink when we got to the bottom. In there I also began talking to some guys I passed on the way up about Ironman and this got me geared up so I changed into my trainers and leggings ready to run down. Running was a little difficult on the Pyg track terrain as the majority is small rocks thrown together meaning that you have to jump from one to the other, I felt like I was playing hop scotch. This terrain meant that I had to be careful where I was placing my feet and although I am pretty all-guns-blazing with a lot of things I was being necessarily cautious when running down as Sunday's triathlon was playing in my mind. Although Phil had seen me run off he must've changed his mind as before long he was right behind me. We got many comments from people on the way up questioning if we were in a rush. Phil always replied "I'm just trying to keep up with her". I had a pathetic fall when going down which made Phil gasp, but it was purely because I got lazy with my feet and didn't lift them up enough. It was becoming apparent when going down that my legs were beginning to ache as I was constantly squatting to keep my balance.

  Whilst running down I began to get lost in my own thoughts as I usually do when exercising. I was discussing my previous blog post with myself questioning the constant competition in my life. I was worrying how I came across, as I didn't want to sound like I am disrespectfully comparing myself to my friends lives in the hope that mine is better. I also did not want to sound disrespectful to my friends and family when I said I needed Ironman as my something to live for. Obviously I live for my family, more so than anything, I was merely expressing that Ironman is my release from the ordinary. I came to the conclusion that life is a game and people play it differently. There are no set rules and no decided dealer. I am a Christian and like to believe there is something out there looking over us, but I am my own dealer. I call my own shots. I am not in constant competition I am playing MY game so I can constantly better myself physically and mentally. Moreover, I am playing the game to its full extent to find happiness. If I gain this by owning a Lamborghini then I'll try my hardest to roll the dice so I get it.

Enjoying my celebratory Snowdonia Ale

  We got to the bottom in 1h15 (I felt more shattered after the descent then the ascent!) meaning I had conquered Snowdon in 3h45. Phil was especially pleased with himself and it begged the question if he didn't smoke imagine what an improvement his fitness could make. We enjoyed our Snowdonia Ale whilst admiring the view from Pen-Y-Pass (this is where we parked the car and is home to the start of two major routes up Snowdon). I would come across this location again on Sunday as although it is the beginning of Mount Snowdon it is nowhere near flat! We had a BBQ and some well deserved gin that night.

 

 Saturday

Posing in Betws-Y-Coed

  On Saturday the plan was to register in Llanberis and then recce the bike route. It was instantly noticeable that the Snowdonia Slateman was not a triathlon for a beginner. I normally try and look out for competitors that have similar entry level bikes to me or are overweight but I could see none when registering. This may sound mean but it just puts me at ease as although I do my events for myself I still don't want to be last. I had serious bike envy that day. After getting my registration goodies and the girls being given some cowbells to cheer the competitors we got back in the car to recce the cycle route. I have to admit this was a daunting journey as the route seemed to never end. The roads were just winding around Mount Snowdon. I had The Beatles, 'The Long and Winding Road' stuck in my head as we were driving round. We all agreed when it was finally over it seemed a lot longer that 31 miles.



Messing around in Betws-Y-Coed, I'm so mature

  Although we had a nice day out exploring the lovely town of Betws-Y-Coed I got back feeling very tired pretty down about the day to follow. I was missing Dan from my pre-race nerves and routine and was also worried and annoyed by the severe burning I was feeling in my legs, the effects of the day before. I could obviously not tell Dan this or make an issue out of it as he said I shouldn't have climbed Snowdon anyway with so few days before an event, especially a tough one. I knew that with the killer hills on the bike leg my thighs were not fully rested enough to play to my strength of climbing them. I decided to try and help my legs a little. I had a boiling hot shower, putting the water on my legs to warm my muscles. I then spent half an hour in the shower stretching them out until I could no longer feel any pain when stretching (although this could have been due to my legs being numb from being so hot). After that I decided to give myself a deep tissue massage. I started probing and digging my hands into the bits of my legs that hurt the most. The pain was excruciating, it felt like I was pushing my fingers into an array of painful bruises. When my thumbs were hurting I then began to try and find another implement I could use. I decided to use a glass to imitate a foam roller. I let out a few cries of pain during this hour long trauma session, god knows what Sonia and Phil thought I was doing to myself.

Sunday

  I was up at 7am on the day of the event and completed my pre-race morning ritual. I had my normal banana and porridge despite Dan and Phil trying desperately in vain to make me have a fry up for extra energy. We got to the start in Llanberis and I racked my bike and set my kit up. With 5 minutes before I had to be heading to the waters edge I was told my bike was in the wrong area in transition and had to move it. Although I have competed in many triathlons this was the most organised event I had done. Normally when racking my bike it is just a free-for-all, you just grab a space wherever you can. However, this company had numbers on the racking which correlated to our race number. I then had to move all of my nicely laid kit to another area. All was done quickly enough, something that did play to my familiarity of transition areas, although I hated looking like the novice who got it wrong!

Swim

The location for the freezing cold swim; the lake in Llanberis

  I was in the first wave at 9.30am and five minutes before I was standing with my wetsuit on talking to some other competitors. We all ventured into the freezing cold water 3 minutes before the gun went off. Upon entering it was quickly evident how bloody cold is was in there. I wasn't stupid enough to think it was going to be warm by any means, but this was the coldest open water I had ever been in.

With 2 minutes to go the nerves had gone and I just wanted to get started as my hands and feet were becoming painfully numb. I assessed where to place myself in the water against my fellow competitors in regards to the look of their ability and in relation to how close I was to others as I didn't really fancy getting a smack in the face today. The gun went off and the jet wash began. I didn't have any smacks or swimming over today and it didn't take long to get into my rhythm. At the halfway point I was the leader of the chaser pack and used my sighting ability to my advantage. I swam until I could no longer. A mistake some people took was getting up as soon as they knew they could stand which they then found had the added difficulty of wading through the seaweed. I ran into T1 in 22m52 which put me 173rd out of 828.

Bike

  I took 3m28 in T1 (it's amazing how quick this time goes when your in the moment). I began on the long and winding road. The first part of the cycle route is a long and steep climb up to Pen-Y-Pass. My legs instantly burned from my previous Mount Snowdon endeavours. My bike gears had already started the clicking noise they constantly make. It seems like it is my bikes way of groaning in exhaustion. (I vowed to get a new bike during this moment as it was driving me mad). My bike was in sharp comparison to some of the smooth and top of the range bikes that seemed to be effortlessly pulling past me. I slogged my way up to the top and was rewarded with a nice downhill and then a lovely smooth fast flat road to gain some speed on. When cycling around this amazing part of the world I came to the conclusion that this was a perfect road and place to be a road cyclist. This is why we cycle. However a lot of very good cyclists knew this too. It wasn't long before more people came zooming past me with their sparkly TT bikes and in the tuck aerodynamic position. I just kept thinking to myself I'm doing this for myself, I have nothing to prove, just enjoy it. I did just that. I relished the weather, the views and the love of being involved in my favourite sport. The 31miles surprisingly flew by and I was soon back in Llanberis. As I was on the fast straight to T2 I saw Sonia and the girls stood on the pavement. I waved to them and they all cheered which instantly lifted me up. I got into T2 under schedule in 2h03, clocking 16mph. Although in comparison to some of the awesome riders that were there that day I was pleased with this effort especially as I anticipated finishing the bike in 2h30 due to the hills and my unrested legs.

Run

  I took 1m44 in T2 despite running off in the wrong direction to exit transition. I was feeling good, and although people were overtaking me as many normally do on the run I just wanted to keep plodding on. I knew that if I just kept going as I was I would make my wanted time of 4hours. What I hadn't noticed so much when on the bike was the scorching heat. This was something else I had to factor into my sapping energy. I had heard that the run included a tough climb from the explanation of the route online and from word of mouth when in transition but nothing could have prepared me for what was to come. This how they nicely worded it on the description, "...a left turn will lead to a challenging climb up the zig zags to the large viewpoint". There were too many zig zags to count and challenging is an understatement. The terrain was also slate which felt like you were doing two steps forward and one step back each time. I like the word challenging as I always enjoy a challenge but this was just deceptive. My run turned to a jog and soon after that it turned to a hike. No one around me by this point was running or jogging. We were all just slogging our way up to the top any way we could. I was getting increasingly dehydrated and was gasping for some water. (When I do this event next year I will remember to take a water bottle with me). When I finally neared the top I exclaimed out loud 'water' to which the man to my left offered his water bottle to me. I thanked him but merely explained that I hoped what I saw in front of me was not a mirage. I downed 5 cups of water and began to run again. Funnily enough the large viewpoint was the last thing on my mind! The rest of the route was lovely and thankfully shaded. It was an off road route through the woods. Although the hills were not over I thoroughly enjoyed the undulating and change of terrain throughout the route. Despite clocking the mileage on my watch I was still shocked how quickly the run was over. As I crossed the road back towards the park, I could see the finishing straight. At 400metres to the finish I saw a guy who was on the floor in agony with cramp. I shouted well done to him and encouraged him to finish the race off. He then proceeded to thank me whilst overtaking me. How dare he I thought, so I began my sprint finish. After as much overtaking you can do in 300m we crossed the line at the same time. I shook his hand and he thanked me again. I finished feeling relieved and also happy I helped pick someone up when despite their pain had more to give. I got a well done hug from Phil and was immediately text my time by the triathlon company. I had done the event comfortably, unrested and enjoyed it in 3h57. I couldn't have been happier, the perfect end to a perfect weekend. I just wished Dan and my parents were there too.

  When we were driving back to the cottage the girls were saying that I was the best cyclist out of everyone and asked whether I was the winner. Obviously I was nowhere near receiving a medal or trophy for the event but I replied saying that everyone who crossed the line was a winner. I sure felt like it. You can't help but love a child's innocence.

  We left for home after I had showered and resumed Eddie Stobart. When we were almost home Phil saw the petrol tanker and that was game over (I think this may have perfected the weekend for Phil as he had been wanting to see it for years). I had to admit defeat as his 10 points ended my Eddie Stobart lead. In this game there was nothing I could do to win. This was one game I could not be the dealer on.



Me sporting the Chiltern Tri gear for the first time as a winner