Unless you have ran a marathon it’s quite hard to explain what can happen after 30kms. There is talk of hitting a wall, physically or more mentally. A point where no matter how good things have been going it gets tough. Beyond tough. If you look at a lot of people who run marathons this is the point the pace goes, the speed drops and the target times fail. On Sunday I started to feel this at 33kms, my legs didn’t feel like my own, I had an almost out of body experience having no idea how my legs kept moving. 

Up until that point the pace had been spot on, 3:30kms, 3:28kms 3:31kms and so on. Sub 2:30 was getting closer and closer yet suddenly it was becoming further and further away. The group I was in exploded, some able to fit through the small gap in the wall others crumbling under the pressure. The kms dropped 3:37, 3:38, 3:40. Shit. This is it, this is where you fail. You did good Andrew, you got this far but you cant finish the job. 

As much as my body and mind screamed at me I refused to give in. I decided to go to war with myself, to battle every single step to the finish. But thats the thing about a marathon, it’s so different to an ironman you cant make a wrong step or take your foot off the gas. The seconds in each km matter so much, it’s stressful, hectic and a cauldron of pressure.

I had trained well, I’m not sure when training really began but I would say a 16 week block leading in was specifically targeted at the race. My method was fairly simple, with relatively high volume for a triathlete, 2 key sessions per week sometimes one and just constant consistency. I trained a lot above marathon pace, trying to make it as comfortable as possible. I did sessions I never thought I could achieve and pushed myself harder than before. I also failed sessions, changed plans and doubted myself. 

But training can be a funny thing, one week I ran 3x10km faster than race pace and felt more ready that ever. Then In the week leading in I felt heavy, slow, sore and that it was all too much. That on the day I just wouldn’t have the strength needed for such a race. We always talk of the physical demands of training but really so much is mental, to deal with the head and where it takes you. Trust the training you tell yourself but these can just be empty words. Ultimately you can only control what you can control and I began to accept that, put the weather apps away and just focus on preparing to do the race.

The thing about racing is once the gun goes off all of the worries, stress and fear go away. It’s almost an instant relief, finally I’ve started and can get stuck into this. It no longer matters how the legs feel, how cold it might be, what matters is the 42kms ahead of me and how I’m going to get through these step by step. 

I set out on pace, maybe a bit hot at the start but this is how I enjoy racing getting it going and then settling down. I was in a small comfortable group of three and then swallowed up by a much bigger group of around fifteen. The pace was always around where it needed to be, sometimes above sometimes below but it felt good, hard but controlled. There is a strange unspoken deal within the group to try and share the lead and push the pace. Mostly I like being on the front, in control and able to do what I need. I don’t want to rely on others, if they misstep, drop the pace or begin to fade. You have to use people wisely while always staying alert to what can happen.

The first 25kms almost breeze by, I felt strong and in control, my heart rate was fairly low and I was fuelling well. We were ticking off the target times I set myself comfortably. But you always have this fear and feeling in the back of your head of when will it hurt? When is this really going to kick in and start to bite? 

By now the 30km wall was close and I was ready to ignore every bullshit thing I read or heard about this point. I’m stronger than that I told myself, I’ve trained for this. Stay in control, fuel, drink push on. My legs started burning and mind was in a constant battle slow down, speed up, stay in the group, leave the group. 

I started doing the maths in my head and couldn’t make it make sense. Trying to see how much I could possibly slow down and still make time. Maybe if I just slow the smallest bit the pain will get easier. But when you hit that point, when you feel that time is up you have to find a way back. Find those seconds and push on. I decided this is it, I’m going to do this, run this time or die trying.

As I run the final few kms through Zurich I can’t understand how long they feel. After running 38kms time feels like it’s slowing and the kms feel longer than ever. All I can think about is pace, time, my legs and where the fuck is the finish. I still don’t know if ill make the time If ive suffered enough to make my goal a reality or if I’m going to walk away with some bullshit reason I couldn’t do it.

But then I turn the final corner I see the big clock with its numbers ticking faster than seems fair. And I sprint, I’m going to do this, I am actually going to make this happen. I will cross that line under 2:30. And I do, 2:29:18. I stop the Garmin and check the clock again and again I want to be sure, so sure that I don’t have to go through that pain and suffering ever again. 
​
The feeling is hard to describe, its relief, its happiness its pride that I cant explain. I want to lie on the floor and cry but I also want to hug those close to me, be in their arms and know I did it. That I achieved such an incredible feat that I set myself. That every one of the training sessions, hours and weeks were worth it, that the doubts and worries were simply that, just thoughts and not reality. 
​
I’ve done many events in my life, achieved some brilliant results and times. But there is something so brutally simple about the marathon. It’s you, the clock, your mind, your body and how fast you can do it. I think in the marathon you learn who you want to be and the person you are. It teaches you about life. And I showed the person I want to be.

I would start by saying I wish I had written this sooner but if Im honest sometimes you need to take time for yourself, process big moments and look back at them with a small bit of distance and perspective. This won’t be a race report, I’m not going to talk you through 9 hours 46 minutes of racing, emotions, feelings, highs, and lows but more a chance to look back. Look at how far I have come, what I achieved at my first World Championships and what it meant. I’m going to do a separate blog on training, data, stats etc so if that is more your thing come back soon!
 
Life is about moments, ones that shape you, define you, provide you clarity, hope and perspective. And I believe doing an ironman is a pretty good way to experience most of these in one day. Running down the finish line of the Ironman World championships I felt a deep sense of happiness, clarity, and pride. At that moment I had no idea of my finishing position, a rough idea of finish time but I was content. I felt I had done what I could, delivered a very strong performance and that felt “enough”.
 
When Nice was announced as a World Championships, I was super excited, as I have mentioned before Kona never really inspired me, I like a tough hard bike course, a race that won’t put me out of £10k and having family and spent a lot of time in the South of France it’s a place I’m very familiar with. Of course, around the time the race was announced, and qualifications began I was in the shit with an ongoing knee injury and felt I would need to wait two years for the chance to race. You can read more about that on my previous posts, but the point is to simply arrive in Nice, to have qualified for the race and be on the start line fit, healthy, happy, and up for it felt like huge success before the gun had even gone off. 
 
Waking up the morning of an Ironman is always a bit strange; you start to comprehend what’s ahead for the day and the challenges ahead. I process it in my head by methodically going through the steps what I need to do, how I want to be feeling in those moments and any details I need to remember. Thinking like that keeps me calm, focused and in the moment. Soon enough I was in transition organising the gear and still feeling relaxed. Because of the descents, corners and climbs I was riding my Cervelo road bike (more of that on the next blog) and was confident with my kit.
 
My parents had made the journey South, their 4th World Champs with me, so after some final words I was waiting in the start pen, I like to find an area on my own in these situations other people’s energy can rub off and it’s important to do your thing. I put myself at the front of the group and made a point to be first to walk up the carpet, I feed of the energy of a crowd and support, so this really fired me up and I just felt confident. Into the water with the sunrise and I told the guys in the AG we shouldn’t fight, give each other space, and just race for yourself. Strangely it seemed to work as once we got going everyone had space and you could focus on swimming. I love the feeling once the gun goes off, everything else goes out your head and it’s just time to get to work, to get stuck in and go through the processes step by step.
 
I felt strong in the water, a non-wetsuit sea swim wouldn’t be my first choice, but I settled into a good group, and it was nice to be able to feel in the race on the swim. I just told myself to stick with the guys and keep the rhythm. Out the water and onto the bike it was really time to get to work. I had done a lot of work on my climbing, lost some weight and was probably in the bike shape of my life. My bike in the past has been strong but this year I worked super hard and, in the weeks, previous set a lot of power PB’s on some efforts in Annecy and Chamonix. My goal for the ride was to really push the climbs, take time where I could as I knew I would lose time on the flatter sections to the TT bikes and big power guys. The bike course was crazy, and I loved that, you could never really settle into a rhythm which is how I like to ride and race. Once onto the bigger climbs I was steadily overtaking a lot of athletes, and no one could quite go with me which was a great feeling. My legs felt good, set up was very light and I just stuck to the plan and rough numbers id set out. I was cautious on the descents, I value my life and don’t really take risks, I was a bit pissed off with how some guys flew around me or cut corners, crossed the centre line etc but at the end of the day you just have to focus on your own race it’s a long day out.
 
One challenge of the bike was fuelling, as it was so hard and “longer” than usual for that bike distance I really had to be on top of eating and drinking, the climb efforts take a lot out of you but then you have time to recover on the descents or easier sections. If I’m honest I should have headed out with more solid fuel as started to rely too much on gels which I saw again later in the day..
 
I always knew the bike course would be a bit cat and mouse, guys I would overtake on the climbs would catch me later, I would catch them again and so on. I felt strong for most of the ride but struggled a bit towards the end, really, I was just hot, had gone hard, wanted more solid food and mentally was ready to run. I had done a lot of big days in the lead up to Nice and already an IM in July and I think mentally these days were beginning to add up.
 
Finally, I was rolling back along the promenade and starting to prepare for the run, this is the part of the race that excites me, where I know I’ll do damage and get to really push. Into transition and honestly the legs felt amazing, fresh socks on, shoes tied, deep breaths it was time to hit the marathon. Into the run I knew I was feeling good, the legs seemed strong, and I set off around 3:40 per km pace, the goal was well under 3hr marathon. After the first 10km some stomach issues hit me hard, at first, I thought I just needed more fuel but soon I was slowing down to vomit, once, twice, and finally it stopped. This kind of pissed me off, the legs felt so good, but my stomach was slowing me down. For sure this can happen in Ironman, but I just wanted everything to “work together”. I was still able to hold a pretty solid pace and started to consistently tick of the kms. I think I was around 40th but told my support crew I didn’t want splits, times of information, I wanted them to enjoy the moment, support me and I knew if I ran what I could I’d move up the field. 
 
Lap after lap It was incredible to run past the people who had come to support me, to see their passion and energy lifted me as did so many in the crowd willing me on seeing how I was moving through the field. The run was effectively a 5km out and back and at the far end it was hot and lonely, but you knew back towards transition the crowds were passionate, loud and waiting. 
 
For me the run was a simple process, keep moving forward, keep pushing hard. I had to slow for a few aid stations to properly hydrate, take on some coke and get through the crowds of athletes. Onto the last lap I finally heard I was a few minutes from top 10, I figured that must mean I was somewhere in the top 20 and gave me the final boost to go hard for the finish, not a single person was able to run with me or overtook me the whole race, so I figured all was going well. 
 
With 1.5kms to go I was just smiling, I told myself to enjoy it, to take it in and just be proud. Proud of the journey, proud of where I had come from and what it took to be there. These moments can flash by so fast and it’s important to stay present. Onto the finish line, seeing the people that matter most to me there and the huge crowd was overwhelming. I crossed the line arms in the air, content, happy, exhausted. I didn’t know my position, barely knew my finish time but I knew I had done enough for me. They tried to usher me away from the finish line a bit fast and I told the kind volunteer I wanted to take it in, to look back at that red carpet and remember it. Soon I was with the support crew being told I was 13th in the World. Honestly, I broke down, the emotions, the feeling were so much and so strong I just couldn’t really believe it. I think even now as I write this those emotions are difficult to explain or ever experience.
 
I came to Nice to be part of the race, to do my best and give it a good go. To be part of a World Championship and to grasp the magnitude of what that entails . To walk away fully content with my race, with a position I’m so proud of and to feel I raced as best I could on the day is one hell of a feeling. For sure there are places I could have gone faster, deep down I wanted to run a lot faster. But that’s Ironman, you roll with the day, things happen, and you must overcome, adapt, and keep pushing on.
 
It's a bit like life in a way. Regardless of what’s thrown our way or how out the window our plans go you have to keep showing up. Doing your best and never ever give up. 
 
Position - 13th
​Finish time : 9:46
Swim - 1:02
Bike - 5:37
Run - 2:56
 
 
 
 

​There is something about airports and waiting for a flight that always inspires me to write and take the time. I suppose it is because of less distractions and you naturally begin to reflect. At first, I was quite frustrated at myself for not writing for so long, I really do love to write, to reflect and share. But then in a way it’s okay, I want to write when it feels right for me. When it feels like the time to put down thoughts, take the step back and share. Not be stuck to some routine or made-up deadlines. 
 
It's been a strange year to say the least, a year where I went from completely directionless and lost to having such a strong target and ambition almost from nowhere. I went from MRI scans, doctor appointments constant second guessing to feeling fitter and stronger than ever, planning an approach to a World Championships and racing in some of the most incredible locations in the World. Naturally like most of us I feel I have taken some of it for granted, not stopped to appreciate how far I have come or where I’m going. But really that is the beauty of the process, once you are on that train you can’t really stop and jump off you have to just go along with the ride.
 
It's three weeks until the Ironman World Championships in Nice, a race I always had a hope of racing and being at, but it seemed like the boat had sailed earlier in the year. Despite qualifying before I’ve never been to an Ironman Worlds and Kona didn’t do much for me. However, with such a tough demanding course Nice suits me and my style of racing. Until June I really couldn’t run much beyond 15kms and certainly not at a fast pace, but I did feel I could give racing a go at Rapperswill 70.3 and see if I got through. This turned into one of my best 70.3 performances and a big confidence booster, sure the half marathon wasn’t my best, but it was enough. Enough to feel I could push on and possibly finish a marathon. The swim and bike shape were there, the physio was working well, and I wanted to roll the dice.
 
I lined up for Ironman Switzerland for the second year after the shortest preparation period I’ve done, hoping I could perform on the day and just finish such a beautiful race. I won’t go into details or the emotions but after around 9 hours 15 minutes in brutal 35+ degree heat I crossed the line completely empty, just over a 3-hour marathon and 5th in age group, 8th overall. A performance that meant more to me than many before, a performance that went beyond time, numbers, and goals. But it was almost a re-set, a moment to feel back, in control and where I wanted to be. To run down that finish line again having achieved what I set out to do, to enjoy the day and feel those emotions again is hard to explain. Moments like that go beyond racing, for me it’s something much deeper, possibly a search of meaning, of purpose and happiness. 
 
Even writing this I’m not sure I let the performance or day sink it, I’m not sure I really could process it all and what it meant to me. In the build-up to Switzerland the most important thing for me was to enjoy the training, to not have pressure or expectation to enjoy the moments and not take it for granted. I wanted to enjoy the day, to go all in but remember the hard times that led to the start line. Sure, I wasn’t as fit as I wanted to be, but sometimes it’s about much more than that. Courage and strength can come from just standing on the beach looking at the sunrise over the Eiger feeling ready to start and willing to go all in.
 
After Switzerland I also managed to race Alpe Dhuez triathlon for the fifth time. Once again, a race that means a lot to me and inspires me to push myself to new limits and not take any of this for granted. I always feel a deep sense of happiness arriving back in the Alps, the fresh clean air, mountain views and perspective it always seems to give me. Again, I went into this race very relaxed, a chance to have a day out in the mountains, push hard and soak it all in. I even was enjoying the 20km downhill ride to race start in 7 degrees with some music in the ears and a smile on my face. These environments and races give me something that’s hard to describe I think many readings this will understand but those feels are hard to emulate.
 
 The race itself went very well, I had one of those rare days where the legs could push, push and push some more. I was climbing better than ever, holding high numbers, and just felt super strong. I’m fortunate to race in the professional race and it was brilliant to be “in” the race for most of the day. I knew I was having a good day coming to the Alpe Dhuez climb and pushed hard before the run with the run still being a question mark. Off the bike the legs felt just as good, a super strong run one of the best of the day and home in 28th, a 15-minute PB and another feeling of being back. 
 
After the race I sat for a while up the mountain on a chairlift watching the sunset. Honestly, I was quite emotional, I reflected on all the shit I had been through the dark times, the uncertainty and anxiety that comes with those moments. Yet here I was having finished another long-distance race, performed better than before and was enjoying it more than ever. I felt I was where I needed and wanted to be, that in a strange roundabout way maybe everything that had happened was okay, it was time to accept that and move on.
 
I also made a conscious decision, as much as I want to race well and perform in Nice I want to enjoy this build up and the race itself. I didn’t think I’d ever be there; I did not think I’d get into this shape and feel ready for a second ironman in one year. But here I am, a few weeks out, fit, healthy, strong, and happy. I had written off this year, sure I never quite gave up and maybe deep down I knew I would come back but it has taken time, highs, lows, questions and answers. I pride myself on my resilience but we all only have so much in our back pocket. I’m fortunate that some incredible people have kept me going, got me back into one piece and I’m thankful for them. But ultimately, I’m proud of myself for being where I am and I’m excited for what’s to come. I think life is going between moments of feeling exactly where you want to be and feeling lost, right now I’m in a good place and let’s see what comes next. 
 
 
 
 
 

​ 
About this time last year, I finished a key tough run session I’d planned for a few weeks. The session was simple 5x2kms, but the aim was to run them all sub 3:10 pace. I ticked it off, felt like I could go faster and knew I was ready. I was preparing for Zurich half marathon and my attempt at going sub 1h10minutes for the first time. It wasn’t the easiest way or race to do this, I was dropped from the top 3 and ran most of the race alone pushing harder than id gone before, however I crossed the line in 69:40 and 4th place. It was April, I was feeling fit, strong, and excited. Whilst my personal life wasn’t great my training and fitness was exactly where it needed to be.
 
As I write this, I don’t think I have done a run session or ran faster than 4:00 per km since around October, races have come and gone and are coming thick and fast and I find myself still on the side-lines. If you missed my last posts, I have been dealing with an ongoing knee injury since October and while some progress has been made, I’m still nowhere near where I need to be and often have new setbacks.
 
 Being injured earlier in the year as much as it was difficult was in a way more manageable, you feel far away from race season, have hope that with another x number of weeks and months you will be back and can build the fitness. When it’s dark and cold it’s easier to keep the training shorter or not go for that run. But now I feel I’m in a new period, the usual time of year where I would ramp up my training, hit some big miles and sessions and prepare for the race season and the disappointment, frustrating and impatience comes back once again. It can eat away at you, slowly draining your energy and hope, it comes in moments and sometimes all at once.
 
Less people ask now what races I am doing, how the training is going or what’s the big target. But it doesn’t stop yourself asking these questions, when will I be back? When will I be pain free? Will I race this season or simply watch the races and performances go by? My injury seems to be complex and not easy to treat, bruising of the knee bone, inflammation of the IT band amongst another couple of small issues. One of the more frustrating parts is a simple break, fracture etc would have healed by now and I’d be on my way.
 
While I have managed to accept the situation more, focus on other areas of my life it is still something gnawing away at me in the background. The triathlon season is long, and I’ve not given up hope, I see myself more now exercising than training and doing what I enjoy and can when I feel okay. Of course, I don’t NEED to race, there is no pressure or expectations, but racing for me is the beauty of the sport, the moment where you stand on the start line and test yourself, put yourself out there and find what you are capable of. For me it makes me feel alive and content. Some of my happiest memories are the midst of an ironman marathon or deep in a 10km run. These moments bring meaning and purpose. 
 
Possibly that is an article for another day, and many may not understand the desire and drive to put myself through these events and challenges. But I’m sure others will relate and know exactly how I feel. Thank you for the support I’ve had, in a way writing about these moments and frustrations helps to accept the situation and slowly move forward.