Thursday, November 23, 2017

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After the disappointment surrounding not making the start line for the Ironman 70.3 world champs in Canada, I had two choices: either call it a day for the year, take some time off and re-charge for 2015; or I could take up the free 70.3 Kronborg place I had kindly been offered earlier in the year (but thought I'd have to miss due to the champs) by our Danish business partner, KMD.

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Posted by on in Race Reports

The original plan was to run the Pewsey Vale Half Marathon (Pewsey is a tiny little village in Wiltshire, for those of you not familiar with the name, and close to home for me) as a warm-up for the 70.3 world champs, perhaps even putting in a bike before the run race to make it a bit more like a race simulation.  But having decided to withdraw from the 70.3 champs (see previous post), I decided to keep the local half on the calendar, just for a little run-out to test my legs – having not done a half marathon ‘sans bike’ since March this year.

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For once I don’t actually feel much like writing this race report. I’m not entirely sure why; probably because yesterday’s race was littered with things that didn’t exactly go to plan and as such I have very mixed feelings on the event.

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Clearly blog posts on TriathletesDiary are like buses… You wait forever for one, then three turn up in rapid succession.  This time it’s a quick(?!) report on this weekend’s Cotswold 113 middle distance triathlon.

As you’ll know from recent posts, it’s been a busy time recently, what with getting married, working abroad etc.  As such, I wasn’t really sure what to expect from this weekend.  With hindsight, I probably wouldn’t have entered the race had I realized how the training beforehand would be disrupted.

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When the organiser of the Royal Wootton Bassett triathlon, a new local sprint triathlon for 2014, first approached me to race I was a little wary.  Coming only a week after the Ironman 70.3 in Mallorca, I wasn’t sure I’d be in a fit state to race to my best. But as ever, I found it hard to say no, especially since I feel obligated to do my best to support races in my local area.

And so on Sunday morning I made the 20-minute journey to the race hub at a leisure centre in Royal Wootton Basset (near Swindon in Wiltshire).  I’d been allocated the very last number in the entire event – 160.  I wasn’t sure if I was meant to read anything into that, but I knew I’d be off in the final wave.

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