Wednesday, 20 February 2013

Ironman Mallorca 70.3

Ironman Mallorca (May 2012)




I rec'd this today which I though was quite cool but already a week after London and I was preparing for my next race.. Only a 70.3 - time to recover and repack.







This was an A race and I intended to to my very best and get more time on the bike to cope with the Spanish Mountain climb in the bike section. I even got the old waxaroo on the legs (Above). First time for everything. I found out I rode so much faster not because of the aerodynamics but as my legs were freezing Ha!


Here's me taking a Sportive in for training in the weeks between London and Mallorca yes I was cramming it in, could I really get much fitter or just tired?!

This race eventually got halved as it was 0c I had 4 Jackets on here and couldn't move my fingers to change gear or brake. It's all character building though right!


Cheshire Cat 100 Mile Sportive also completed.. Me pulling funny faces as usual with a mouthful of food. Warm enough for bib shorts in this race but still lots of layers up top. I rode on my own for the majority of this race. My team mates are stronger bikers and had just Lands End to John O'Groats in their midst around this period so 100 Miles was just another day in the saddle.




The Mow Cop Killer Mile... This is probably the hardest my heart has ever worked doing anything. 

You receive a medal if you make it to the top of the Mile long hill without dismounting. I should have stayed in the saddle and spun up slowly but when in Rome.. thrashing out of the saddle I went.



Medal Earnt! Nice one.. : )




Some other pics from that day.


More and more bike miles went into the tank mostly steady paced rides alone as I thought I would be spat out the back of the pack in group rides... I had work to do to bike well and run equally well I wasn't actually in the shape I had thought.


To take the Time Trial steed or will the trust road bike fare better in the mountains.


              My TT Bike won in the coin toss and into the Bike Box it went.



So things had happened all so quickly and it'll all seemed like a bit of a blurrr. I was nervous having not raced a middle distance triathlon for a couple of years now. I always think in the back of my mind no matter how I'd like to do "I'll be glad to get around and survive".

Having had a lot of 2011 away from sport due to illness I knew I wasn't in any shape to compete although with the immense support of my clubmates and friends that getting back to what I love to do was the best environment I could have chosen. 

There were around 30-40 club mates from Mersey Tri making the journey over to Mallorca including Wives, Girlfriends, Mums, Dads, Grandmothers, Grandfathers and kids in toe.. This truly was going to one for the scrapbooks. 

So before we had even arrived on Spanish soil we could almost smell the team spirit. If we win or finish dead last it doesn't matter. Here we go!

As with many group trips you there are so many people going and so much going on.. There was a lot of the guys bunking in together in the same hotel 
(Team Hotel as it would now be referred to which was over the road from transition - Thumbs Up!). I thought this is good and set about finding anyone else who might want to share a room. 

A few of the club knew Steve Ormesher - a seasoned Ironman who had originally come from a Rugby background but had clocked up many events and had even raced some of the original IM UK courses in Sherbourne before it relocated to its current situe in Horwich, Bolton. This was ideal bunkmate found.

Trouble was Steve and I had never met what if we didn't get on? I thought I don't really dislike anyone and if he has any funny habits then it will be good comedy value.

Steve and I had decided to travel on the Thursday Morning from Liverpool John Lennon Airport and would Return on the Monday early doors having raced on Saturday. 


Meanwhile back at the ranch.....

As I had arrived first for check-in with suitcase and Bike Box I was ready to go, with only a couple of hours on the plane I wanted to relax and just "get there".

I sat in the Starbucks of the departure lounge and stuffed a Granola Bar and Chai Latte down for breakfast as it was about 5am I thought I should have a little fuel to keep me awake and line my stomach. I kept an eye out for a "Steve" but got fed up of looking at strangers after 5 mins or so, after all it was the arse crack of dawn.

As I dived face first back into the trusty granola bar.. I saw a large shadow approach the armchair adjacent to me. "You're Robbie, aren't you?" As I looked up I saw a giant he could have been 6.5 feet and that was wide as well as tall!!! 

"Steve?"

We exchanged pleasantries and soon discovered as blokes do we got on quite well. Steve had pointed out I was the only sporty looking person in there and I was in fact quite easy to spot, I thought the same of him ironically - certainly easy to sport but I thought best not to say aloud in case he put me in a sleeper hold or similar.

By the time Steve and I had reached our hotel around 6 hours later after meeting we'd flown together, taken a private taxi and arrived at our room - we were the little and large, his and her combination of the trip and would soon be another couple within the Mersey Tri machine.

Ever the joker we often played on being a couple and it seemed like we'd known each other for years which our team mates found hilarious. As Steve had raced abroad a lot we had already set about building our bikes, meeting our friends and scoping out our new surroundings all after devouring some lunch obviously.

We need fuel, we're athletes right?

Something had become apparent walking along the streets next to transition the street signs had temperature gages and were flashing 33c. Having come from 14c only a few hours before this was going to take some acclimatisation.


This was a lie, with all forecasts from here on in Iphone weather should have said - Multiply by 2.

Finish Line was up, I thought I'd get in and have a picture as I'd probably be a mess come race day finishing. With the heat I immediately realise my 5 hour goal was now closer to 6. I wasn't bothered by this as the experience was going to be amazing and it's all good training too. As with all 70.3's the courses and conditions are different 1 weekend you could race 4:30 and the next weekend you might just scrape in under 6 hours.

Fast Forward through the next stages.. Transition bags packed

White - Swim
Blue - Bike
Red - Run

Final evening before raceday - Steve and I cycled the short journey to a local Italian restaurant and proceeded to feed up and joined another couple of Iron Triathletes one British and one Kiwi. It actually turned out that the couple weren't husband and wife but had become friends at a race around 5 years ago and since then have travelled round the world to many races as their spouses weren't interested in the whole "triathlon thing".


They had just raced Texas 70.3 and recently too so they were in good shape and looked well and ready to go. I was now thinking I wish I'd trained a bit more, lost some weight, done some sit-ups - done one sit - up for gods sake!

The evening passed by and we returned to the hotel for a few hours rest - the next flow of pictures show the bikes racked and the transition area. 









Raceday

Up and at em' 

Up early and down to transition around a 10 minute walk from the hotel. Wetsuit in hand and tri suit on it was already warm and it wasn't even 6am yet. As with everyday here it was like Triathlonville there were still aero helmets and time trial bikes whizzing past and people running up and down the run course.. Surely these people can't be racing but each to their own I thought.

We chose to inflate our tyres on race morning due to the heat I knew they'd expand even more and I wanted to avoid a puncture on arrival in T1.

Bottles loaded - shoes propped and bags racked.

Steve and I then hooked up with the rest of the crew down at the beach which is around 5 minutes walk from transition. Everyone was doing the usual routines, of toilet, body gliding, shuffling into their wetsuits to the waist to try and not to overheat before getting into the water. There were waves according to gender and age and I was in the second wave and I was pretty pleased by this as a head start is just what I need on my speedy pals who would no doubt whiz past probably in the swim and I'd not seem them again until the pub.

As I watched the female wave go off ahead in their pink caps I turned around to find all of the different age groups behind me penned in and ready to go all in a different coloured swim cap according to their wave. Mine was a silver, after what felt like 30 secs people watching someone behind me kindly zipped up my suit and the klaxon went. I launched into the water hanging back from the group slightly to avoid the usual argy bargy and looking for some clear water once things had settled down. 

I knew I was in for a long day so I just began to ease into the swim at a slow and steady pace, I wouldn't realise until the end of the race I was actually too relaxed and swam my slowest 2km's ever. 
The swim went out off into the bay the water was calm for the most part as clear as anything and an absolute delight as the sun came up and shone through the depths of the bay you could see the fish below trying to work out what we were all doing in their backyard.

The water began to get a little choppy the more we headed toward the sea and soon it was time to turn right at the final buoy, we would then swim another 100 metres or so before heading back into shore. I felt good and even stopped to speak to a couple of female teammates Natalie (Johnston) and then Helen (Michael) who had started in the first wave and I thought half way we're all looking good doing well and most importantly having fun so let's crack on there's work to do.

As the swim came to an end I began to use what swim energy I had left to propel my arms for a sprint out of the water. As the volunteers lifted me up I gathered myself and sprinted for T1 grabbing a drink as I went. I must have overtaken around 50 plus people just getting out of the water I obviously hadn't swam to my potential as I was running easy and quickly at that but I was having a ball regardless.


Swim done and my legs were carrying me into T2 nicely, my spanish skills came in handy when I  need to signal a spanish volunteer to assist me in whipping off my wetsuit and dressing from my transition bag as I grabbed my bike and helmet and sprinted out of T2. 

As always my feet were numb from the swim having been lay down in the water for 45 minutes so getting my feet into the bike shoes always seems difficult. Finally after about 5k of riding on top of my shoes I got comfortable in the aero position and began to loosen my hips and get my legs turning for the first 20k of the bike which were pretty flat and the scenery matched with the support was magical. 

This was also great as everyones race number hanging from their belts had Miguel, Number 123 and a Spanish flag for example and you could see where they were from and their name. This was great as banter flowed and you'd have french riders shouting allez allez Robbie and smiling as they passed. I spoke Spanish with some of the local riders to see if we could work together on the bike but sadly the spanish crowd were only keen to work together. 

Following the nice early flat section of the bike a steady incline then became the climb towards the mountainous region and the heat began to bear down on the endless train of cyclists. This was "the hill" that we'd all been worried about for the 6 months before in training looking for local hills to replicate the raceday effort. I thought to myself, "take it easy" its going to be a long day - I'm far too heavy and not exactly a mountain goat when it comes to riding up such inclines. 

The organisers had done a fantastic job and at this point we'd passed well stocked aid stations to restock our bottles and gels if necessary like the constant buffet that Ironman events are albeit sugary sports nutrition. 

The course was fantastic and the views were second to none which was lucky really as everyone was working hard and this was a pleasant reprieve. We were all covered in salt head to toe, people in all black had an all over dandruff. At first I thought a few people had wee'd on the bike and then I realised we were all covered in salt from the drying sweat and heat.

As I spun into the mountains trying to drink as much as I could before the next aid stations some 25km away there are a few false flats that get you think "Phew, glad that's out of the way" and then it goes up and on a bit further.. All the while a bit steeper and closer to the sun.

I must admit as challenging as the race was I wouldn't have changed it for the world. As with most triathlons I tell myself "if they were easy, everyone would do them!"

At last, I'd conquered the hill we'd all worried about and as with most things that worry us all its in fact not that bad in reality. The descent began and with was a massive snaking road down through a valley, I immediately began riding as quick as I could making the most of the downhill to claw some time back and get going again after crawling uphill for the last god knows how long.

I could see my garmin ticking away in front of me but I tried not to pay much attention I was thinking I wonder what the temperature is.. Sadly I didn't have the posh one to tell me. As a result of the fast riding into the hairpin snakey descent my first job was slamming on the brakes, skidding sideways across the dry spanish tarmac toward the edge of the road and having to throw myself to the ground to avoid falling over the edge.

As if in one movement I fell to the ground and jumped back up taking inventory of any damage to my steed, all was well no scratches or anything and my fat arse had saved me from any danger. For the next 10 minutes or so as I finished the tour de france style switchbacks I tried to forget about the crash and cranked up my awareness and concentration moving forward.

The later and final stages were mostly downhill through small traditional looking towns which was great and the police and locals did a great job of keeping the roads clear and providing support in what might have a quieter part of the event.

One thing that I had noticed at this point was that none of the Mersey Tri faithful had passed me on the bike which is unusual as I class them as league ahead of me in the overall stakes and their ability to succeed. I just presumed they all got out if the water 10-20 minutes quicker and had passed me in the water.

That was until young Daniel Wade Clarke came whizzing past and gave me his trademark big wide smile and a little gesture of well done for leading out the race. I then watched him power off in the distance and thought wow whoever catches him will be doing well. That was until I caught him 5 minutes later, not through power through the pedals but as he'd punctured by the side of the road. As his suit was easy to pick out I tapped my tool kit and signalled to him but he waved me on he was at work and would no doubt see me again probably before the bike leg was over. 

Passing through the 60k marker I was pleased that the road ahead had flattened out as I was getting pretty dehydrated and my supplies had almost run out, I couldn't get another drink for another 20k and I was feeling cramp creeping into my legs. As the drafting judges came by on motorcycle I had asked for "agua" as I was gasping now and unsure if I'd get to the next station without being knackered.

Thankfully, Bryan Riley came passed and we had a quick exchange and I gave him an update on who was where etc. I was shocked to think Bryan had only just caught me at this stage but he looked easy and relaxed - he was having fun! This is his 'bread and butter' I couldn't go with Bry so I mimicked his body position and continued until the final drinks station. 

Daniel Clarke has also now re-caught me following his flat earlier on and was back in the game. Three or or four clubmates had gone by as we headed back into T2 to begin our run and the final leg of the day. Considering I'd swam slowly I was doing well and happy with my progress as there were only a handful of the team ahead of me and the quicker ones at that they will become markers to chase later on.

1km from transition and turning towards the town my tyre blew out and rolled the tyre and tube off the rim. I looked down in horror and waited to smash onto the road. Not now, 89k of 90k complete I can't believe it! This was one of those moments when you're clipped into your pedals all you can do is swear and clench your arse cheeks! 

I opened my eyes seconds later and looked down at the ground my momentum rounding the corner had created enough tension to pull the tyre back onto the rim! This must be 1 in a million chance and as other riders rode past and palmed the small of my back saying they thought I was going to wipe out I was in shock. I rode the last air out of the deflating tyre on my £1800 rims and just about made it to transition, Boy was I lucky!



Jumping off the bike and running after a 3 hour ride is always odd as you don't know whether you'll face plant or you'll go into a full on run thankfully on this occasion it was the latter.

Before I knew it T2 had passed and I had fresh socks and my racing flats on and a newly acquired baseball cap to cover my skinhead from the sun. I shuffled into the first few km's feeling pretty decent clocking between 4-4:15 min km's and I thought this is great for about 6 or 7 km's. 

I had great support from the ever present Ray Handley cheering from the sidelines and began to take on at every opportunity the sponges and water available, I'll save the gels and coke for later should I need them. Nutrition at this point had been a gel every 25-30 minutes as required - the main focus was electrolytes. 

Each lap of the run volunteers would throw a hi viz coloured hair bobble over your arm nearest to them to mark how many laps you've done, first lap pink, then yellow and finally green. As much for the organisers this is also helpful as when you're tiring after 4 hours or more on the go its difficult to remember much. On the second lap of the run albeit flat and heavily supported by locals and the Mersey Tri massive too I began to slow and quite drastically. 

My achilles injury that had interrupted London Marathon just two week earlier was in full force and I was hobbling, this would only get worse and more painful as the run continued. Now the half marathon at the end of a 70.3 is much different to a normal half not that don't swim and bike first but you have to introduce walk/run strategies particularly at aid stations as the calories are imperative at this stage.

I was in a world of pain and decided to get into the hurt locker and shut the door, Bryan Riley passed, Daniel Clarke, Gregg Jones and now Dani Trinca who proceeded to pick them off one by one with his gazelle like stride. Considering my background was more run based I felt even worse I couldn't string together a better effort. I would end up running a 1:50 run having set a goal of 1:30 prior to the start. Sometimes you can only do what you can do, hey!

The laps came and went I drank coke and ate banana and soaked myself with sponges I just wanted to strip off and jump in the sea, but before then it was time to head into the last stage of the run.. Party Time. 

I looked at my watch and guess what I'd been racing for nearly 70.3 miles, Happy Days!

I approached a massive wooden boardwalk that extended into a bridge and I remember thinking oh that's a nice bit of work where do we go now, yep that's right up and over it a sharp right turn and into the finish chute, I could see familiar faces that were high fiving and slapping my back as I ran down the blue carpet into the Ironman arch. Job done! 

No the perfect race but some great lessons learnt, Maximum fun was had and I now had some friends for life : Mission accomplished! I had also managed to gain a partial tear in my right achilles therefore there was plenty of rest ahead of me before any other races would come into it. 5 hours 43 minutes and change was the finish time!

The original goal was a 35 minute swim, 2:45 Bike backed up by a 1:30 Run but hey ho there's more races and realised I could still do it and had bags more to come : ))))

Some pictures from the adventure, thanks for reading! Well done if you read it in one sitting aswell. 1-0 to you!



Achilles bust but searching for the next race at the hotel the evening after the race still in my race kit : )



































































































Tuesday, 19 February 2013

Race Reports 2012 Reloaded..

So my old blog died and I've loaded the race reports up again from 2012 in case anyone might be bothered to read them. Also, I'm sure this will be good to look back on in the future from a personal perspective.



VIRGIN LONDON MARATHON (APRIL 2012)

by
Robbie Collins

This story began on a dark, dark, wintery November night in Liverpool somewhere along Otterspool prom where a local Triathlon Club were warming up for their sprints session. The weather was pitch black, rainy and windy so everyone was typically dressed head to toe in layers on layers on layers as they tackled the wind. 

I was taking part ticking along ahead of a half marathon in Conwy, my 22nd half but the first I’d done in a while. I was doing a pretty good job of pretending I was enjoying the sprints session – as you do! As coach Cooney rocked up beside me with the usual “Hey Robbie! Are ya well?!”.

We discussed the race ahead and the hilly Orme that we’d later encounter over the next few days, following this the race schedule for 2012 then became the main subject.

I explained to Alvin I didn’t get pb’s anymore and I’d lost all confidence following heart problems throughout 2011 so getting to the sprints and back in one peace was a gold medal for me at that stage.

We chatted for a few minutes as Alvin checked in with everyone for the session making sure everyone knew the script. I mentioned a few tri’s that may be of interest in the coming season but nothing major a couple of local Olympics and that would be fine. My mantra was enough to “keep the belly off” would suffice and keep me in shape for my 2012 calendar shoot obligations.

We somehow got on to marathons and how I detested them having had a go before. I’d had a place for the 2011 event but deferred due to illness meaning April 2012 had a number with my name on it. Within 3 or so minutes Alvin had assured me he was of the impression I could run 3:10 “Jeez, no problem” he said.

As the Trinca train passed by and the session was under way the seed had been planted and my old mantra of “if others are doing it, why can’t I?!” I was more nervous as this stage than thinking I’d even make it round.

So before I knew it I had placed all my trust in Alvin after all why wouldn’t I? We only have to look at it and think he’s been there and done it and still rocks up with a belly full of tea and pretty much smashes us all.

January 2012

Fast forward 3 months and the New Year had begun, I’d become the first to receive a training plan from coach Cooney and my swimming and biking had become a more regular and I was actually enjoying it. It felt great to be back in the fold again and in every session the Mersey Tri massive seemed to grow a little bit more. I’d come away from each session with a new teammate and a ride or run organized for the next day or coming weekend. Amongst a growing amount members over the last 12 months there was now a pretty tight knit group of amazing people. 

Enough about them anyway - So with a base level of fitness in the tank the races began to appear and I had gained an awesome training partner in the form of Bryan Llorente, things couldn’t have been better and I was content with my progress. “That’ll do pig” I said to myself and did an imaginary pat on the back.

Unfortunately Helsby Four Villages came around when I had picked up a wintery bug and my target of 1:25 had to be put on hold.

I pretty much paced myself around some shorter distances ahead of the marathon in April. On each occasion I had Bryllo and White Lightning otherwise known as Ian Roche going full throttle out in front. 

(Me Left and 'Bryllo' Bryan Llorente Right) Leading out the race.



I thought as long as I can see them I can catch them and if I do half of what they have it’ll be a respectable effort.

First up was – 

(Feb)
Southport Mad Dog 10k - 39:48 

(Running as Bryan Riley in this one I thought hopefully sub 40 will do) 
Great day out and a bit of speed work done too - Thanks Bryan! 
No Pb for me but Ian and Bryllo smashed it so it was smiles all round, huzzah!



(March)
Liverpool Half Marathon – 1:26:49

Originally I’d been hoping to run 1:25 here and beat my previous Pb of 1:25:50 but it didn’t come. Ian and Bryllo led the way once again about a minute ahead of me and were smashing it! Bryllo even equaled my own PB. I was absolutely over the moon for these guys they’d put in the training and now it was paying off and I had a front row seat.




With these early season races out of the way Bryan and I had strung and hand full of Thursday Night Tempo runs together and were a pretty good match. These runs then grew into doing our Saturday long run together as Bryllo launched his assault on his home Marathon in Madrid the same day as London, he would eventually go on to enter Edinburgh running a month after.

Bryan had lots of gears to be unlocked and I could see this early on and I wasn’t shy in telling him what I thought he could achieve. Even after running off the turbo on all of the long runs had been good and I was shocked and thought this is too good to be true.

The weeks began to pass by quicker and quicker the days got lighter and longer and we were wearing shorts again – remember them! Even better than this my Spanish was coming on with every run we did and easily outdid my running ability. 
Muy bien I thought! Is rite.

4 Weeks to London

It was almost April and coach Cooney’s plan had brought me this far in great shape and I was even thinking (cloud above Robbie’s head playing montage) "I might even run a 3:30 at this rate but then again I rucking hate marathons!!!" and I meant it. 

Last time I ran London in 2010 I’d hope to run c3: 30 and had trained on 3 continents and clocked up about 70 miles a week for 7 months.  The result was starting in the last thousand of forty off thousand people and coming in at 4:43 and something.

At no point had I done any 5-hour training runs so this was agony quite frankly. As anyone who’s had a bad run in a big event with such build up and prestige attached you get a massive lull afterwards and pretty much feel like a let down. 

Injury Strikes

Back at casa Collins cleaning the trusty Newton’s in the sink (Missus shouting in the background “Not in the sink!”) I looked at the tread wear. Straight away I notice my gait had drastically altered and these shoes had only clocked up around 200 miles.

New shoes at this stage and injuries, what!?!? Robbie and Marathons just don’t mix I thought. I dealt with no running by copius amounts of cycling, getting the race position ready for Mallorca – Good trade I thought. I couldn’t run at all : (

I saw physio’ssssss, bought new shoes that I had ran in before but Achilles, Foot and ITB injuries kept coming and swapping places like football managers. After being told to rest most of the 2-3 weeks before London I missed plenty of long runs and 30 min runs were even a struggle and they were even niggling walking. 

I rested and worried and rested and worried and worried and worried. Having sured up a pretty tight race calendar at this stage I had Mallorca 70.3 3 weeks after London and was hoping to run well off the bike, as my swim/biking is blahhh.. 

Also, in the hysteria of a new marathon surge I’d signed up for New York Marathon too. 

London Calling

I switched on the telly and it was Friday 20th April 6:30 in the morning! Still trying to figure out which was the toilet and the sink my good friend Alan (Gidman) rocks up to take us to Lime St. Let’s go marathon boy he shouted from the driveway. (Voice in my head) “What’s Alan doing here?”

On the train at 7am and having slept all the way I pretty much didn’t know my name by the time we arrived at Euston and London would be quite overwhelming for the first day. People jostling everywhere and just a lack of space was something to get used to but in reality ideal prep for raceday. 
I also thought this is like a swim start, if anyone barges me I’ll swim over the top of them or twang their goggles.




Day One involved going to the Excel Arena at the London Docklands - home of the London Triathlon aswell. You get in there get your final instructions, race number, timing chip and then walk round all day whilst people try and sell you stuff and get your to sign up for their race ‘Norwegian Night Beach Marathon’ etc. Exactly!




A lot of charity stands are there running brands and famous runners and ex runners talking to the massive crowd from a big stage surrounded by the pasta party!

Quite a few runners past and present were there even the likes of Colin Jackson were lurking. The expo runs the week leading upto London to spread out the masses arriving in droves.

I even saw Martin & Liz Yelling, Iwan Thomas (N.B just gave him the eyes and by the power of telepathy the message “You’ll learn!” in a whispery voice.)

As an avid fan of Marathon talk/listener its was good to see these in the flesh and see Liz ahead of her final pro race trying to qualify for the summer Olympics.

Apart from all of the running gear, massages on offer, scantily clad models selling some sort of running fandango I was relaxing with the guide dogs charity stroking golden retrievers staying off my feet whilst Alan did the rounds. 

At this point it had all become a bit real but a part of me I.e. the runner in me didn’t even realize I’d be running in a few days time. The expo was great and you should take your time for this at least half a day. Even having done it before I’d enjoyed it and picked up a shed load of goodies.

About 25 tube rides later and it was Saturday Night. I dislike London as much as I dislike Marathons so I was doing well to have gone the distance in that respect. This is mainly due to the congestion and the lack of manners at time.

Al and I had spent the day staying off our feet well sort of. We’d walked about 10k including the last 2 miles of the course. To counteract this we got a Royal Box at the Lyceum theatre and watched the Lion King with actors even coming into the box to perform. All this was a great distraction and a good 3 hours or so to kick of the trabs and get the hooves up. 

Many plates of pasta, chicken and other roughage we’d stocked up well and I thought whoaaa I’ve overeaten here I’m in the red, ah well!

We were well-hydrated drinking water and checking or wee like our life depended on it. 

Race day!

Up at 7am watching runners eat the worst brekkie going at a poor hotel, I thought good start but I had no expectations and my right ankle was already hurting and I hadn’t even tied my laces yet. No time was on my radar as throughout the training. I thought void of confidence have I got in over my head here and tried to remind myself I’d run 26.2 before and on this course.

Robbie’s rules for race day + hotels.

Take your own cereal, for me porridge oats/dried fruit/nuts/manuka honey and a sports drink or water. Insist you can get in the kitchen and use the Micro! 

Avoid dairy!

Brekkie done and following the crowd to the start at Blackheath I see a young boy with silver hair, “oh wait!” its White Lightning! I see Ian give him a big hug; wish him all the best and we continue onto the train. I can tell from Ian’s eyes he’s prepared like a demon and he’s all business. His words are limited and full of encouragement I can see his focus has begun so make my way onto the train. 

Journey time is about an hour from our hotel to Blackheath and the tube is cold so I always take the oldest hoody, tights, wooly hat and loadsa race t-shirts that I will bin minutes before the start.

You never know what you’ll find in terms of toilet facilities and weather so I always think failing to prepare is preparing to fail.

In the continuous blurr that is London Marathon we’d waited an hour for the toilet (Normal wait time) chucked our kitbag onto the lorry and moved about 200 yards to the blue start in the pens marked 1-9.

Alan was in pen 6 as he was aiming to better his 4:28 by chasing the 9 min mile man in pen 5 ahead of him. 

I filed into pen 3 and sipped a gel and started taking a layer off every 50 yards, now I was race ready in terms of what I had left on anyway. 

Kinesio taped legs, Compression Socks, Shorts, Vest, Gel Belt, Watch, Road Id and Shades. Most important was tissues in case of a code brown emergency.

I spotted Ian dashing through a massive crowd as we all filed into placed at the blue start.

Blue Start is Elite, Club and Good for Age Start.

Green is Ballot places 

And 

The busiest of all the Red Pen – Charity places all your Scooby do’s and Giant Tigers etc. 

So I’d seen Ian a handful of times and exchanged an enthused embrace with him each time. He’s was steaming with 3:10 or quicker and he was ready to roll! I worshipped him – Go well Ian I’d shout on each occasion!

So as I stood at the blue start I heard the BBC introducing all the Kenyan’s and Pro’s etc. and I started thinking, “It’s quite good this isn’t it?” 

My thoughts were:

1. Lost Ian before we’ve started but I won’t catch him anyway. 
2. Don’t shart or stop!
3. Bugger!!!!!! Did I leave the Iron on..
4. I’m hurting already how many painkillers have I had.

Boom Boom Pow! The Gun had gone and I had hit my Garmin, Crossed the mat and I was away.

After 5k I’d noticed a local guy Mark I knew from Liverpool and thought great I can run with him. It was paramount to not get sucked into anyone else’s race but I was pretty much overwhelmed and feeling edgy for the first 15k. 
He was going for about 3:15 but I knew after 5k he was going to blow up. We chatted for the best part of an hour as I tried to get him to slow by talking to him. I had a giant 4:45km pace in my headlights (Alvin was in my head: Just pace it – You’ve got this!) but on some downhill’s we were easily hitting 4:20.

I thought if Bryllo were here he’d be running this fast and that meant too quick for me especially at this stage. Now Mark has done a handful of marathons and we were using the same gels at the same time etc so we’d done 10 miles chatting rubbish and keeping an eye on each other throughout. I thought he knows the script he can’t keep this up. 

I nanchantly said “First time at London mate?” he said tiring, yea yeah! And smiled like we were finishing at 13. 

I politely thanked Mark for his support and company and wished him all the luck and good legs for the remainder. It had been a pleasure to run with him.

I sat back and hit 4:45 pace as planned, Mark ran off into the distance. Now c10 miles in and I thought my right foot injury had already hit the danger zone and this had opened my left Achilles as I compensated for the right foot wobbling around and rolling. I winced at the thought of my right Achilles going and then I was all out. The pain was no better or worse running faster or slower and I had used Mark as a Rabbit to distract me from the growing discomfort.

I knew my lower legs were now swelling even through my sexy compression ensemble but I couldn’t look as I was just about trying to stay as relaxed as possible and thought im 4 gels away from an Ice pack. 
Now I had already started a shuffle like when people are doing an IM and they look like a stroke victim hunched to one side. What a sad state to be in I thought and as the mile markers passed I repeated Mallorca! Mallorca to remind me of the priority as it would have been too easy to try and be a hero and ruin my tri season with these injuries.

Just maintain, just maintain Robbie! Void of any confidence these were empty words! I thought’ what would Bryan Riley do?

Therefore the next 16 miles I played every inch of the immense London crowds like I was composing an orchestra. Cupping my ears throwing my arms in a ‘let’s hear you fashion’

I must have easily had over 1000 Come’ on Robbie’s, Go ed lad’s etc all day long. What a treat! I don’t think the pro’s had this many cheers poor buggers. By the way when they past they were hurting but weigh the size of my ear lobe so don’t worry about them.

Before I knew it I was looking up and maintaining pace and I clocked a close friend Colin who’s ran 3:20 before and a pretty similar guy to me. Without another breath “Oi Col” ran over to him, hugged and then proceeded to wee through my shorts. He’s a good friend but seriously I just needed a wee. So after the sprinkler finished I was pretty much wet through for the whole thing as it was really hot the whole way so I concentrated on cooling off so I didn’t waste any HR on my body’s cooling system.

Col towed me for a while and then he dropped by which time we passed Mark as well. 

Reaching 20 Miles I was in a bad way and only getting worse but with the help of the crowd and the support I’d had from the Club, the worlds best friends and my good lady I thought this is not good at all. Stopping would have been too easy and I thought I can hang in there with the best of them – Let’s have it! Confidence boost number 1. 

Through miles 20, 21, 22, 23 I had a bad spell where I was struggling to hold 4:55 and felt a walk coming on but If I’d stopped at any point it was race over after all I couldn’t walk only run. I’d now began to pick off all these runners who’s sped off at the start so I thought let’s dig in, get the crowd on my side and lock in 4:40/5 pace. Approaching mile 25 at embankment and Westminster I was in slow Mo but nobody was passing me I felt like Usain Bolt thought If I was hurting or damaging myself so much I’d find this hilarious.

By now the road had just about thinned out not something I’d seen at London before. I hung in on Embankment, hit right towards Buckingham Palace which would lead to the Mall i.e. Finish Line.

Had a look at the Garmin and it said like 3:15’ish. Wowzer who’s Garmin is that I thought I’ve just been watching everyone for 3 and a bit hours. I’m now thinking I could fall over my legs were that numb and swollen. 
With that magic number of 3:15 gone I was disappointed but thought hey lets see how I look like sprinting in this state. 

I put my palms out in front of me face down to feel how high my legs were coming, as I was numb from the atmosphere, cramp and all kinds of other stuff.
I ran at 4:15 pace and thought 4min ks and I’m falling on my face.

It was at this stage I thought all that fist pumping and dancing with the crowd I could have shaved 5 mins off here but without them I wouldn’t have got that far.

I’d been before and walked the finish on Saturday so I cheered and thought well done lad, you did all right! And pointed to the sky as with all runs in remembrance of my dad. 

I thought I was too ill to leave the house when I deferred last April (2011) I’ll take 3:20 and bloody hell Alvin was right!

A busy marathon on a not so flat as it used to be course - 3:21:15 with crap legs. Chuffed!



                                     First pint for me and Big Al. We'd earn't it if you ask me.



Another medal for the shoe box..


Job done.. Well done legs


Turning from Embankment into the Birdcage.. Nearly there last miles now.





The Mall, I can see I've missed the 3:20 on the clock ahead but I've got what I came for : )


What a crowd!












So I’d done it. Targets were 1:25 half and 3:10 Marathon but injuries and targets aside I’d acquired enough belief along the way to know that a sub 1:25 half and a 3:00 marathon isn’t impossible and maybe even before the year is out.

Thanks to all my club mates who’ve helped me achieve this!

Medal, Pint, Train and back to the promise land! 

Next stop Mallorca! All aboard


name COLLINS, ROBBIE (GBR)
club Mersey-Tri
category 18-39
runner no 23484
Est.Finish -
race info
START TIME 09:45:00
finish details
place (M/W) 2963
place (ag) 1476
place (overall) 3309
finish time 03:21:15
splits
Split time diff min/km km/h
5K 00:23:00 23:00 04:36  13.05
10K 00:46:20 23:20 04:40 12.86
15K 01:09:57 23:37 04:44  12.71
20K 01:33:45 23:48 04:46  12.60
HALF 01:38:53 05:08 04:42  12.81
25K 01:57:17 18:24 04:43 12.73
30K 02:21:29 24:12 04:51  12.40
35K 02:46:12 24:43 04:57 12.14
40K 03:10:50 24:38 04:56  12.18
finish time 03:21:15 10:25 04:45 12.65


Same time next year? 3rd time lucky in London?