Youuuuu are an Ironman!

I wondered if this day would ever come but I have the very great privilege of now writing up my race report.

So went to bed the night before the race at 8pm and, surprisingly, managed 6 straight hours. Still meant I was awake at 2am with a very long day ahead of me. Finally got up at 4 and got ready and a pretty limited breakfast in the hotel before the buses arrived at 5. It was all a bit frantic and I ended up being herded on an 'athletes' bus while the family had to go separately. As soon as I was on the bus, I wanted to get off again and be with them and had a horrible, nerve-filled journey sat next to another guy with his head in his hands the whole way which did nothing for my state of mind. By the time I met up with them at transition, the tears were in full flow.

Checked over the bike and pumped up the tyres and then had to say my farewells, by this time feeling like I was having a total out-of-body experience. Then we all got shepherded to the jetty to wait for the swim start. Luckily I was really close to Chris, Dora, Giles, Sally, Harriet and my Dad so was able to do lots of waving and pretending to look relaxed and excited! It was all awash with nervous energy, loud techno tunes and the Mexican national anthem on that jetty and, all of a sudden, it was time for the pros to start. Necked a gel and then made my way into the water.

The Swim
Despite knowing the swim was going to be my strongest event, I've also done enough research with mates and race reports to know not to go too near the front in a race of 2300 people especially as I was really nervous about getting kicked in the collarbone so found some clear water and just waited. Then the klaxon went and we were off.





It was fine initally and I got a nice pace going and started to gain a few places. What I hadn't bargained for was the first turnaround buoy which suddenly became like a scene from 'Titanic' and I'm afraid to say that my language got fairly choice when someone grabbed both my ankles and dragged me under.

It calmed down a bit after that and got a really nice, steady pace going for a while. Suddenly I was overtaking quite a few and was starting to hope for a decent time. Out of nowhere, someone smashed me right on the bridge of the nose and I got a reality jolt not to get too complacent. After that, I just kept my wits about me, kept it steady and started hoping I'd soon see the finish. It was a really sunny morning which made sighting really difficult, including the swim exit. But suddenly I saw the steps and heard the noise and I was there. Climbed up the steps, saw my 'crew' and then looked at my watch. Happy days!

Predicted time: 1.15
Actual time: 1.09

T1
Washed off the salt, got handed my bike bag and headed to the changing tent. Had a helper help me out my swimskin and get all my bike stuff ready but was all fingers and thumbs so made slow progress especially with my skintight arm coolers. Was slightly concerned to hear they had no sunscreen but had no time to worry about that and just hoped the cursory bit I'd applied in the morning would do me (it didn't). Quick loo stop, quick "hi" to Emma, another English girl I'd 'met' on a tri forum and it was off to collect the bike. Got another shout from the gang and managed a smile to let them know I was in better spirits and it was time to tackle my nemesis: the bike.

Predicted time: 5 mins
Actual time: 9 mins something (ah well, better to be sorted than rush things before such a long ride)

The Bike
I've made no secret about my bike fear and with an average speed of 14mph in training, those fears were absolutely justified. As soon as I got on the bike course literally hundreds of people were flying past me but I tried to just shut it out and looked down at my speedo and had to blink when I saw 19mph into the wind.



Felt great so didn't want to slacken off but got to about 16 miles and my stomach started cramping. Slowed it right down and just tried to sip water to make it pass. It went off after a bit and so got on the tri bars (a first!) and just kept those wheels turning. The island got really pretty at this point but also really windy and lonely support-wise. Made sure I stopped at every other aid station for Powerbar gels and Gatorade (yuk) and after about 15 miles of cycling into the wind, we made the turn into town. With the wind behind me and loads of locals yelling 'vamos!', the steed and I flew back into town. Was really looking forward to seeing the family back in town and see Dora's little face so the mood nose-dived when I didn't see them and had to head out on lap 2. Just had to talk the demons away and stay focused. What I didn't know at the time was that they weren't expecting me for ages so were ordering the next round of drinks!!!

Lap 2 was ok and got more friendly as the course thinned out and I kept seeing the same people and was able to have the odd chat (still pedalling of course and no drafting - except the Mexican who drafted me for a few miles. Grr). The speedo was still telling me good news and, despite the sun beating down on my shoulders and my head beginning to ache, I felt strong. Was looking forward again to the end of the lap and hopefully seeing them this time but, again, they weren't in town. Started to feel really low and, then, all of a sudden, I saw their Union Jack. Stopped for a quick chat and a hug and was delighted when they told me I was looking at about a 7-hour bike split.

It was quite hard to leave and go out on the final lap but I knew I just had to keep plugging away. The final lap was hard. I had only done one ride in training over 80 miles and it showed. It was seriously hot by this point, the wind had picked up, my toes on my left foot were complete pins and needles and I had to loosen my helmet as my temples were throbbing. It was hard to keep the speed up and started to get disconsolate when the needle started slipping into the 13mph zone. But, by this time, there was a few of us in the same boat and a quick pep talk at the aid station and meeting up with Ben who I'd met in the Ironman Cozumel Facebook Group really helped.

I couldn't wait to turn the corner back into town and finally it came and the wind pushed me all the way back. Barring mechanical failures, I had 6 miles till I'd nailed the bike and I knew I was well within the cut-off time. The atmosphere was amazing back in town and it was lovely to finally see the dismount chute and be able to go down it. I'd done it! I'd looked at my 112-mile bike ride in the eyes and stared it out. Now just the small matter of the marathon to deal with!!

Predicted time: 8 hours+
Actual time: 7.03

T2
Transition was a bit of a faff. Trying to get compression socks on over salty, sweaty, sunburnt legs was a challenge but, again, the helpers were out in force. Managed to remember to take my helmet off and spare myself looking like a total doughnut, necked some water and was out of there.

Predicted time: 5 mins
Actual time: 5.50

The Run
So, coming from a running background, having never suffered from 'transition legs' and having been consistently surprising myself in training, I went into the Ironman marathon feeling pretty positive I could run around the 4.30 mark. How arrogant/naive/both!

The run course at Cozumel is 3 laps of 8.7 miles out to the airport and our hotel and back with a nasty twist of a turnaround point just as you could see others running up the finishing chute. As soon as I started to 'run', I realised what doing an hour quicker on the bike was going to mean. Not only was there another couple of hours of blazing, hot Caribbean sun to deal with but my legs had been mullered by the winds down on the South coast. Despite running a 9.09 min-mile for my first mile, it was downhill from there on in. There were aid stations less than 1k apart and they were pretty necessary. At the first one, someone thrust what looked like clear ice pops at me and, in my wearied state and at a loss as to what to do with them, I shoved two down my top! What I soon realised at the next station as I'm searching around for water to combat the heat is that the ice-pops were, indeed, water tubes. And very welcome they were too!



The first lap was fairly uneventful, save for the realisation that this wasn't going to be quite the 'walk in the park' I'd hoped. I was guzzling water and coke to try to stay hydrated but I couldn't help noticing the pacing slipping on my Garmin all the time. I started looking forward to getting into town and seeing the family and it was lovely to see them all jumping up and down and waving flags. Back out onto the 2nd lap and, as I hit 14 miles, I started to feel so sick from all the caffeine gels, sport beans and coke I'd been drinking and hit a real low point. Another naive thought came back to haunt me. I'd read that only 1% of people run the whole way in an Ironman marathon and, yup, I thought I was going to be one of the 1%. WRONG! Walking on and off from mile 14 onwards!

Was desperate to get back into town to see the family and was devastated when, even though they hadn't moved, I missed them and they missed me. Went round that turnaround point with such a heavy heart and literally wanted to punch the smiley faces I could see on the video wall who were just finishing! I really didn't know how I was going to run or walk another 8.7 miles even though giving up never entered my head. Just as I was heading back out of town, I heard Harriet shouting and they were all there. I think I was a little bit delirious at this point but stopped for a quick word and was then sent packing! The shuffle out of town was horrendous. As I hit 18 miles and the traditional marathon 'wall', any energy reserves I had drained completely away. Giles must have seen a defeatist twinkle in my eye back in town as, just as I was having those thoughts, I heard him bellowing out of a taxi window! He and Sally had decided I needed support on the lonely section that was, by now, dark, full of mosquitoes and had people in various states lolling by the roadside! It was an inspired decision by them and I will forever be in their debt for being there from mile 21-25. At this stage I was trying to run 60 paces: walk 60 paces; run 5 minutes: walk 1 minute etc. Basically any combination that would break this thing down.

Just as I was hitting another bad patch at 23 miles and walking, Giles and Sally jumped out from the shadows at me, told me I was awesome and somehow the legs picked up again. At mile 25, I could hear music in the town and they appeared again but this time I was already running strongly (ish). I started to look at my watch again and wonder if a 10 min-mile was possible for the last mile but I realised it was actually 1.2 miles to the finish and that it didn't matter. I put every ounce of effort I could into that last mile and even overtook a couple of places. Suddenly the noise was deafening but, over it, I heard Chris shouting my name. Harriet thrust a flag of St. George in my hands and I turned into the chute.



As people were shouting my name and banging the hoardings, I stood on the line with my flag above my head, a massive grin on my face and heard: "Sophie Spink: YOU ARE AN IRONMAN". 15 months of training, a broken collarbone and a brain that had been completely 'Ironwashed' later, and I was!

Predicted time: 4.30
Actual time: 5.05

Predicted Total Race Time: 15 hours (14.30 at a real push)
Actual time: 13.32.32