Anything is Possible - IRONMAN 2018

5 am Sunday 9th September and my alarm is going off. It’s a bit early for a Sunday, but I have to get ready as today, I’m entered to attempt to complete the 2018 IRONMAN Wales.

I need to eat (a lot), take my kit to transition and get into my wetsuit ready for the 7 am start on beautiful Tenby’s North Beach. What lies ahead is said to be one of the toughest IRONMAN races in the world. A 2.4 mile swim in the sea, 112 mile bike fighting the coastal winds and South Wales’ picturesque but hilly terrain, followed by running a marathon, four laps of 6 and a half miles. Up and down a hill.

Starting the year with the Gloucester Half Marathon with my IRONMAN soulmate, Mike Griffiths, I have trained a fair amount for this… Swimming before work with the swans and hardy souls of the Serpentine Swimming Club. Early morning mist with the deer in beautiful Richmond Park or weekends spent in the breath-taking (literally) Surrey hills with my unwitting training partners Andy Mason and Charlie Rawstron. Oh, and more running. Probably not enough boring, boring running along the Thames and through the City. Earlier in the year I even cycled the route I was about to attempt on Long Course Weekend, however, I really don’t think I was truly prepared for what I was about to encounter. The IRONMAN mantra is ‘Anything is Possible’, so I suppose I am not far from finding out if that is true for me.

Ivan Rowlatt, Mike Griffiths and I set out into the dark morning for a pretty nerve-wracking walk into Tenby town centre. More and more people appear. Most seem like they know what they are doing. They have been there before, IRONMAN tattoos on their calves, this is another Sunday in their long distance lives. I bump into someone I haven’t seen for 12 years. This seems worlds apart from rugby club drinking at Birmingham University where I last saw Pete Lees. 

Hundreds of volunteers, sound system, music, lights, buzz … as 2,400 of us are gathered in the street, dressed in our wetsuits, slowly edging our way down towards the beach, the excitement is palpable. Everyone is friendly, is it your first? You’ll be fine. Don’t go too hard on the bike. Always seems to be the advice.

The horn sounds and we enter the water. Some in more of a rush than others, I wade in, delaying the first stroke for as long as possible. I’m really not a swimmer and my aim is to keep my heart rate down and try to swim directly behind someone slightly faster, the theory being they will drag you round. I’m sure it’s not impossible, but it really seemed like it might be, I decide it’s a bit frantic for that tactic so abandoned it and went to plan B… try to swim in a vaguely direct route, avoiding swimming too much further than I have to if at all possible. 1 hr 26 and I’m out of the sea and onto the sand. Mouthful of water, get rid of the salt. Wetsuit off, eat a banana, and run the KM up hill to Transition 1.

For the next 7 hours and 26 minutes, I pedalled, ate flapjacks and drank litres of water and isotonic drink. 112 miles is a long way on a bike. IRONMAN Wales also has 2000+ metres of elevation, and I’m really too heavy for this sport. Taking one section at a time. Against the wind out to Angle, through the Pembrokeshire Coast National Park, finishing the first lap with the last 4 hills, through Narbeth, Saunderstfoot and Tenby. Back out and do those last four hills and 46 miles again. Back into transition to change into running gear.

It’s at this point I first ask myself what I’m doing. I’ve been going 9 hours, I’m quite tired and I’m lacing up my trainers to run a marathon. The last time I did that, I was 8 years younger and 3 stone lighter. Oh well, I have 8 hours before cut off (you have 17 hours to complete the course to be named and IRONMAN) so I might as well see if I can finish it.

One of the things that struck me most during the race briefing the day before was the rules. From the obvious performance rules, like no drafting on the bike, to those that seem a little strange, indecent exposure or nudity results in instant disqualification, to those seemingly less reasonable…. no headphones, which means no music. IRONMAN insist this is for health and safety reasons, which does seem logical. However, I’m pretty sure it’s just to make things a little harder…

Of course it’s a long day. Even for the fastest on the day, Matt Trautman, at 8 hours 53 minutes and 21 seconds. The physical endurance is obvious, and as they say with things like this, it’s mostly in your head. What I didn’t realise about the psychological test here is quite how lonely it can be. Don’t get me wrong, the support in Tenby and the surrounding areas is truly phenomenal, thousands line the streets in the town centre, getting rowdier and rowdier as the run progresses. The villages and country lanes on the bike course are littered with groups of friends and families with claxons, whistles and cow bells, all day. Now an embedded tradition, the event is relished by the locals, and they really get behind all competitors. That all being said, I simply wasn’t prepared for the intense loneliness… That may sound dramatic, but I found that being in an elevated state of physical stress for an extended period of time (I completed the race in 14 hours and 58 minutes) combined with having only your thoughts for company, was pretty challenging. I wouldn’t say I was ever really in a ‘dark’ place, but I definitely had enough time to think about most aspects of my life. My work, my wife, my family… everything gets some attention.

People have asked me what the hardest part was. For me, probably the little smack of demotivation that hit me when I was at the beginning of the second of four loops on the marathon. I was starting the long climb up the hill out of Tenby and my I saw all three of my IRONMAN first timer mates on the way back down. All about 4 miles ahead of me. At the speed I was running at the time, they were about 40 minutes ahead of me. With the help of my Garmin I was being assured I was only slowing down…

Ivan lapped me at the half marathon point and Will Kershaw Naylor, another Monmouth School ex pupil passed me a few miles later. We ran together for a little while. That was nice.

At about 22.20, I crossed the finish line. This is what you do it for, ‘Joe Curtis, you are an IRONMAN’ rang out over the speakers, shortly followed by, ‘and you look a bit like a prop forward, fair play’ Not quite what I was hoping for, but I was pretty jubilant all the same.

And what was the best bit? My wife running with me as I headed out on my last loop of the marathon. I now know the meaning of having your ‘spirits lifted’ and that happened to me every time she saw me slowly edge my way round the course. Positive, enthusiastic and LOUD!

Oh and the piece of pizza we got given at the end. That was pretty good too.

I completed this IRONMAN to raise money for Cancer Research. If anyone fancies donating, please do feel free.

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/joe-curtis4