A last minute change of plans to race Ironman 70.3 Lanzarote saw me booking a suspiciously cheap Ryan air flight from Barcelona to Lanzarote. Never been to Lanzarote before but somehow the race and the commentators seemed to think I was the 2019 Ironman Lanzarote Champion. I'll take that! Put that one on my results list please PTO and can I please get 90 points for that one ;)
Anyway, to the race. Lost my timing chip... rookie error I know. Ran around like a headless chicken to get a new one. Got one! And exactly 0.3 seconds later found my original one stuck to my wetsuit. Idiot!
The swim start was more confusing than trying to locate a parcel in Spain. We started at the ramp and ran down to the water in a “is this is actual race” kind of flurry. To find the other 50 pros in the same state of confusion. Get in the water! Get out of the water! Get in the water! Get out of the water! Okay get back in the water, like some kind of children’s birthday party. The horn blasted after the bellowing command of one of the pros to “get the f’ing race started already” I turned around the first buoy first. Yesss! A small win for me against these ITU fast boysHole shot. Pierre le Corre came past to start what was the day of French bombardment. I was staying with Pierre for the week and fair to say he wasn’t joking when he said he wanted to swim hard. I stuck to those feet like a pissed off Pitbull. I came out of the water and somehow offended the technical official with either my lack of chest hair or my 'muchas blanca' winter complexion. Both offensive to a Lanzarote local. She stopped me and told me to pull my tri suit up before moving anywhere. All good. Barefoot sprint through the longest transition in the world.
Onto the bike and this can only be described as a course designed by a sicko and not it the hang loose, Shaka kind of sense. In a swims without a wetsuit in the winter kind of Sicko. French bike phenom and could be GQ model Clemet Mignon came with me as I tried my tried and tested formula “Run away from the runners” approach to the race. We duked it out for the rest of the 90k bike opening up a gap to the rest of the field. I was loving the bike. hence why I wanted to see a few more of the streets of Lanzarote on my way back into transition.
Funny because the lead motorbike thought the same thing and took me there too. All jokes aside It's a gutting feeling.
The best way for me to describe how it felt is like spending all day cooking a beautiful roast dinner and burning the Yorkshire puddings. You work so hard just to F it up at the tastiest bit. The run started well. The work I’ve put in over the last couple of months seemed to be paying off. 4 laps of a hilly, Twisty turny course had me questioning career choices. I held the gap over the 1st 10k. But then I saw Leo Bergere coming after me like a TGV train. The 3rd Frenchie of the day to offer his brutality. Great, onto the last lap. Leo caught me in the dying kilometres of the race. I ran after him like a train I’d missed although un successfully as he took a much deserved win. “Need to slow down less at the end of the run” . Better jot that one down for the training plan. I came home 2nd, 20 seconds behind. I don’t know if you know this about me but I hate losing. I'm not a sore loser. All smiles and congrats at the end but man I don’t enjoy losing. Again well done to Leo. One of the nicest, most humble guys around. It's great to see nice guys doing well. In all seriousness I had a great week with my Frenchies. Staying for a week with Pierre and Alexia. Settling the score at go-karting with Leo, Angi and just an all round great time. This is why triathlon is such an amazing sport. Back on my Ryanair flight home. Delayed, of course it is. But what can you expect for a 20 euro flight.
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