Ironman Lanzarote 2010, as recalled by Madders.

Some say

He was abandoned on the fells as a baby, and raised by a herd of mountain goats

Some say

He can run for a hundred miles on a single portion of sheep's droppings

Some say

He once finished behind Jeremy Clarkson in a political correctness contest

All we know is...............he's called the Big E............

Whatever became of the Ryton Tri newsletter? A marvellous publication, through which we were all able to keep abreast of each others' race performances, and of other important news from the multisport world. In addition, it was widely used by myself and others as a vehicle for carrying out what became the club's second most popular sport - Blakie Bashing. Of course, I have actually answered my own question here. What led to the journal's demise was that it did eventually become nothing more than a monthly opportunity to heap scorn on Sunderland's most eccentric family, paying only token lip service to the sport of triathlon. (Either that or Mikey P couldn't be bothered any more, not sure now.) Nowhere was this more apparent than in my final article "It's not about the Blakies" which pretended to describe my previous race in Lanzarote, back in 2005. Fortunately this was never published, due to the influence of pressure groups acting to protect the interests of defenceless elderly gentlemen. If anyone is remotely interested in this shameless, and now well dated, piece of journalism, then they can read it here. (assuming our geek section can establish a link)

Five years on, and things have changed. The newsletter has been consigned to a museum, and has been replaced by a website. In the meantime, I personally have abstained from journalism, and have spent a considerable amount of time undergoing "Blakie therapy". In the old newsletter days, the temptation on my part to be the first person to inflict gratuitous abuse on the Blakies via the website would have been overwhelming. Now, as a totally reformed character, I can safely say that this is no longer the case. And anyway, an event has happened during the intervening period which should well and truly consign all jokes about Blakies, testicles and diesel to the dustbin: the arrival of Phil "the Gnome" Addyman.

On 22nd May 2010, myself and 9 other Ryton Tri'sters took part in Ironman Lanzarote. Seven of my co-competitors were Ironman virgins - hence the title of this article (anyone who seeks further enlightenment on the origins of this title can ask either myself or Eric the Viking, whereupon we shall talk to them about Prog Rock for some considerable time - Performing in a dome, we've a sight to make you foam, seven virgins and a gnome, don't go home, don't go home - a timeless classic and curious omission from recent Vikings sets) Originally, there were to have been 11 of us, the 11th (and not a virgin) being Gary Blakie. Gary dropped out at a late stage, because he "hadn't trained enough" which obviously isn't a very Blakie thing to do, or a very Blakie thing to say. In fact, his father has decreed that he is to be known from now on as "the person formerly known as Gary Blakie" and excluded from all family activities until he's done the Deca-Ironman, the Bob Graham, and the Marathon des Sables. Twice.

In order to compete in Ironman Lanzarote, it is a prerequisite that you must actually be in Lanzarote. In most years, this is quite straightforward, and not regarded as one of the more difficult aspects of preparing for the race. Not so in 2010. Several of our competitors experienced flight cancellations and rearrangements as a result of the eruption of the Eyjafjallajökull (can you spell check that one please Jenny - you'll need to anyway as I believe it's the venue for the Big E's next fellrace) volcano. Most notable amongst these were the honeymooning Addymans, who were forced to spend an extra 2 days in the delightful city of Liverpool. This was obviously a bitter blow to Phil's pre race preparation. 2 less open-water swims. 2 less recce's of the Ironman bike course, 2 less 20 mile tempo runs, and 48 hours less of temperature acclimatisation. However, he was able to mitigate this by going for a (very) fast sprint through Toxteth, and fitting in 2 extra sessions of driving Laura round the twist (as this is conducted at 95% of maxHR, it can be substituted for some of his gentler bike sessions). The couple's hopes of ever reaching Lanzarote almost took a further blow on the rescheduled flight, when Phil was threatened with expulsion from the aircraft, for doing burpees in the central aisle, whilst the seatbelt lights were illuminated.

It was clearly unfair for some competitors to have their race build up disrupted by flight delays whilst others were unaffected. In order to level the playing field, therefore, certain others decided, in the spirit of fairness, to allow their own build up to be spoilt by problems of their own making. I myself fell into this bracket the night before our flight when Lou, sorry I mean Bridget (small breach of newsletter protocol there) discovered that she had lost her passport. I then proceeded to spend the whole night looking for it. During the search, I removed a pile of clothes from on top of the drawers, and placed them on the floor. In the morning, still searching, I walked across the room, standing upon this particular pile, whereupon I inadvertently stood on a belt buckle which stuck right into my foot. After hopping around in agony for a while I managed to remove it, but it did bleed for quite a while. Never mind, shortly after that I found the passport. Bridget therefore, was able join the rest of the Ryton Tri WAGS, and lend her support during the race. I am of course pleased that the committee reversed its earlier decision, and allowed the WAGS to attend the event. Originally you may recall, they were to be prohibited, being regarded as an unnecessary distraction to us serious athletes. A move was afoot, however, for them to travel independently, and set up their own "WAGS camp" near the official training ground. Thankfully, the committee did see sense, and this proved not to be necessary. (I believe that there had also been protests from the shop and bar owners' federations of Puerto del Carmen)

Col G did a similar trick with his bike box. For those who don't know, he possesses the largest, heaviest and most wooden bike box in the North East. Upon carefully placing his disassembled bike inside, he managed to spear his finger with an enormous spelk (Editor's note: that's a skelf to the Scottish contingent in Ryton-Tri). The spelk caused considerable pain and discomfort during and after the race, and needed to be surgically removed upon his return to the UK. Unfortunately, Col found himself unable to whinge about this problem, as the club whingeing rights for the event had already been bagged by his brother in law. "Cyclops" Blakie had got in very quick on this one with tales of some affliction which had left him with only one eye. Undeterred, Col chose a different tack and proceeded to commit a monumental howler in the packing of the bike itself.

Having put his ultra light bike into his ultra heavy box, Col found the resulting combo to be well over the airline's weight limit. Col's remedy for this was to then remove the heaviest items from the box and place them in his hand luggage. This included the chain, stilsons, torque wrench, repair stand, welding torch, hair straighteners and, of course, the chainring. For some years now, there have been restrictions on sharp, "dangerous" items in air passengers' hand luggage. Col, with assistance from several airport staff, and a small forklift truck, lifted his rucksack onto the conveyor belt. As soon as it went through the x-ray machine, the chainring appeared on the screen. Col was immediately advised by the staff that he could not carry such a "potential dangerous weapon" onto the aircraft. You see, what Col had not realised was that the "racing snake" physique he had managed to achieve during the build up to the Ironman had inadvertently given him the appearance of a ninja warrior (that and the fake tan). In the hands of such a warrior, the chainring would indeed be a lethal weapon.

After much pleading, and employment of the legendary persuasive powers of Mrs G, the staff eventually agreed to allow the chainring onto the plane, provided he didn't attack anybody with it within 100 miles of UK airspace.

Once in Lanzarote, the next prerequisite is to have a bike. The preferable option is to have a bike that works. Sadly this was not the case for Col. One of his bar end shifters was rendered inoperable in transit, meaning he would have to spend the entire race in the big ring. (and why not? Mirador isn't really that steep) Not a palatable option for Col unfortunately but, there was an answer because Tony (Is it a stockbroker? Is it a quantity surveyor? Is it a church warden? Noooooo - it's Bicycle Repair Man!) Glover was about to fly to the island for a well earned rest from his daily grind of fixing Ryton Tri members' bikes. Tony was able to bring a new shifter (not in his hand luggage, though), and the day was saved.

Tony's presence was subsequently to prove invaluable for Denise, who after considerable agonising over which of her collection of bikes to take, arrived to find that the chosen one's back wheel was in need of essential maintenance. A repair job by a local mechanic failed to pass Tony's scrutiny, and eventually a wheel had to be hired, Tony having, unfortunately, left home too late to bring one with him.

In 2005, I kicked off the race with a disappointing swim. History repeated itself in 2010, but this time it was made even worse by the appearance of a very narrow inflatable gantry which you had to go through at the start. The result of this was that those of us who didn't turn up an hour before the start (all of us bar Phil that is, who'd been there warming-up since 4 am, but was too nervous about his swimming ability to stand anywhere near the front anyway.) had to wait an eternity between the gun going off, and even being able to see the sea.

First out of the water, comfortably beating the hour was Alan Blakie. This took us all by surprise, as we didn't know too much about his athletic abilities beforehand. Where he gets that swimming ability from is a mystery - not from his dad, obviously. Col & Dave G were then out of the water before me. Then after me were Jaci, Big E, Denise, Laura, a large quantity of sea water, Clive, then, bringing up the rear and positioning himself to indulge in his passion for overtaking people he knows, Phil.

It's very easy to whinge about the Lanzarote swim course, but this is most certainly not the case about the bike course. It was superb in 2005, and was just as good in 2010, although they had changed it a bit. The only real criticism of the bike course would be the mile-markers. It is standard in Ironman races, for bike courses to feature marker signs every 10km. Those in Lanzarote however, were not very accurate. In fact it would be fair to say that they were about as reliable as Eric the Viking in a relay team.

As in 2005, my time on the bike was basically very lonely, although this time I did get a wave from the small section of the fan club (the Pauls and the Glovers) which had travelled to Teguise (which you pass through twice). I didn't see any of my fellow team members until around 95 miles (or about 85 according to the signs) when I heard the familiar Yorkshire lilt approaching (rapidly) from behind - "Eyyupp Madders!" Phil pulled alongside, told me the tale of his very poor swim, and was away. I tried very hard to stay 2 chevrons behind him, but couldn't manage this for very long.

Eventually, after 6 hours and 24 minutes (which I was well pleased with, having taken 7:12 in 2005, despite significantly more mileage that winter) I finished the bike. Out onto the run, and at last a chance to see where everybody else was. Before I saw any of my fellow competitors, of course, I saw the WAGS, clustered near the start, cheering us all on, and playing their vuvuzelas very loudly. In 2005, the first thing said to me as I passed the WAGS was "Eric's just in front of you". In 2010, it was "Eric's just behind you". Deja vu? Nearly. Pretty soon I passed Col, quite distinctive as the only competitor wearing an x-ray of his knee on his back, walking as planned. Soon after, I spotted Dave G, obviously going extremely well, nearing the end of his first lap, not long after I started mine. A bit further into the lap I saw Alan, also going well, and calculated that next to come into view would be Phil.

For the first time in living memory, the Lanzarote run route has been changed. Having been 4 identical laps since the dawn of time it has now been changed to 1 long lap, followed by 2 not quite so long (use of the word short here would be totally inappropriate) laps. The first lap is incredibly far. You have to run past the old turnaround point, past the new laps 2 & 3 turnaround point, past the airport, and then along the seafront at Playa Honda. I reached Playa Honda, finding it difficult to believe that I still hadn't reached the turnaround when I finally spotted Phil. This actually caused me some alarm. Either Phil had slowed since passing me on the bike, or I still had about ten times further to go to the turnaround than I thought. The former of course turned out to be the case. Although, aside from his pitifully slow T2, (which actually wasn't quite as slow as his pitifully slow T1) Phil had suffered a further significant delay during the early part of the run. A volunteer at one of the aid stations had apparently tried to charge him €5 for a bottle of water.

Phil was not the only one to outstay his welcome during T1 & T2. The most surprising thing which emerges however, from examination of our transition times, is how unbelievably quick Alan was. He was actually the quickest of us all both times, and this despite being one of the virgins, and bearing the awful burden of having a surname that begins with B, and ends with "lakie". Once again, a demonstration that he is most certainly not a chip off the old block. Whilst myself, Dave and Denise were reasonably quick, this was sadly not the case for the others, ie Jaci (hair), Col (completing bike session analysis sheets), Big E (adjusting compression socks), Clive (pies) and Laura (stomach pump).

After finally reaching the lap 1 turnaround point, I turned around. I was then able to see that clustered very close behind me were Jaci, Big E, and Denise. The return leg of the first lap was the low point of the race for me, as I started to suffer in the heat. In 2005 there was a constant breeze from the sea, and heat on the run wasn't a problem. Not so in 2010, although obviously this would have been a factor in the faster bike time. On lap 2 I felt a lot better, probably lifted by the fact that the gap to the Big E had got bigger (although I am now far too much of an experienced competitor to allow my race to be influenced by petty rivalries).

On the return leg of lap 2 I was lapped by Dave, who obviously really was going well. On the same stretch I also spotted that the Big E had given up the chase, and was walking. At the time I didn't know whether he had a problem, or if he had finally decided to listen to the latest of his long succession of coaches, and was saving himself for Ironman Japan (that being the race where he stood the greater chance of achieving his ultimate goal of Hawaii qualification). Of course, he had an injury didn't he. The second of those 2 options was always rather unlikely. With any disappointing Blakie performance there has to be a culprit, and apparently, on this occasion, the compression socks were to blame, so he's now ditched them. ("good enough for Bella Comerford", he said before the race. Yes Eric, good enough for Leroy from Fame as well of course)

The big surprise at the start of lap 3 was seeing Denise before Jaci, who had suffered a similar fate to the Big E and was now walking. The bigger surprise, near the end of lap 3, was lapping the Big E. I don't do that very often obviously.

Eventually I crossed the finish line, accompanied by daughter Bethany, who, like Bruce 5 years earlier, outsprinted me to the line, in a time of 11:54. I was well pleased with this, having taken 12:58 in 2005, and never expecting to break 12 hours in this particular race. Our 3 fast lads had of course all finished before me. Dave had finished in the obscenely quick time of 10:24, about an hour or so quicker than his previous attempt.

Next had been Alan, in a time of 11:19. An excellent effort, the first of the virgins, and thereby ousting his brother, or "he who shall not be named" for the much coveted title of "Fastest Blakie". Of course the unfortunate thing about Alan doing so well, from my own personal perspective, is that I shall be unable to give the perfect answer to the question that I will inevitably be asked in 20 years time: "How many Blakies did you beat in Lanzarote Grandad?" Never mind, I shall just have to echo the sentiments of a gentlemen who could well have been a Blakie - being the same height as Eric, and the same build as Clive - I won't be sad, cause 2 out of 3 ain't bad.

Next finisher, almost 6 minutes ahead of me was Phil. Phil is very cagey about whether or not he is pleased about his performance in this event, but I fear he must be a little disappointed. On the face of it a good first effort - sub 6 bike, not much over 4 in the run - but probably not as good as some of his other achievements this year. His dominant victories in the Allendale Challenge and the Newlands Duathlon for instance. Or his astounding victory in the Blaydon Race (in the ladies over 50 category, anyway). Or, of course his single greatest achievement: managing to be observed relieving himself in a blue plastic bucket by no fewer than 8 out of 10 women in the Gillside Campsite bunkhouse.

Next finisher, and Dave's rival for the club performance of the day award, was Denise in 12:09. Denise didn't surprise anyone with her swim or bike, but astounded everyone in the run. Having whinged for years about hating running, never training, and being particularly averse to hot conditions, (this of course now sounds about as credible as 90% of the "facts" quoted in this article) Denise managed to complete the run, without stopping, in 4:14. Further, unlike myself (or any of us, I think) she managed to cross the line looking as if she could have turned around and done it again. Denise said to me at the end that one of the things about her performance she was most pleased about was being "not very far behind me". That of course is very flattering, but it has taken me several Ironman races, including a previous Lanzarote, to be able to do the time I did. Further, 5 years earlier I was pleased to achieve a time almost an hour slower than Denise's (as was the Big E). Of course, it should also be mentioned that the weather conditions in 2005 were much more difficult. There was a lot more wind, and the winner's time was significantly slower. (Well, it doesn't pay to be too modest about these things, does it?)

Unlike most of us, Denise harbours no ambitions of going to Hawaii, and didn't tick the appropriate box on the entry form. She finished 3rd in her age group, for which there were only 2 slots. It came to light later, however, that both slots had ended up going to people with slower times than Denise. If there's one thing more likely to sicken the Big E more than abusive journalism.......

Just under an hour later Jaci arrived, having walked the latter part of the run. Not disappointed, as it had all been part of the original plan, being the victim of a long term running injury. Pleased that she had done a very good bike time - and not let hubby down, and still well ahead of the Big E of course.

Hopalong Blakie was indeed the next to arrive, some 55 minutes later. Hot on his heels, a mere 6 minutes behind him was Col. Col stuck to his gameplan, and did exactly as he set out to do, following up his fast swim and bike with a sedate stroll around the run course - following the advice (unlike certain others) of his doctor, and not running on his artificial knee.

Next to finish, just over an hour later, was everyone's favourite Blakie (a hotly contested title that one obviously) and personal friend of Tommy Cooper, Clive. Clive's mentions in newsletter articles normally tend to centre around the issue of mechanical reliability, or, more specifically, the lack of it. This follows from his tendency to take parts of his brother's old bikes, and then join them together using bits of Meccano. This time, however, Clive broke totally with tradition, and bought a brand new bike. Old habits die hard though, and Clive couldn't totally shake off his history of unreliability, and suffered a puncture. There is a golden rule in triathlon that you do not use any equipment in a race which is not tried and tested in training. Clive broke this rule but, fortunately, once he'd worked out how to use his new CO2 pump, it worked a treat and he was back on the bike without much delay.

Finally, almost another hour later, Laura finished. I think it would be fair to say that Laura was a bit disappointed with her race. She did of course have her share of problems (and mine and Dave's as well I think). She apparently swallowed a large quantity of seawater. Easily done in the mayhem that masquerades as a competitive swim in Lanzarote. This inevitably kept her off the pace all day, and she did very well indeed to finish. It actually seems that she suffered the same problem as Gareth H did in Zurich. Except of course that she finished and he didn't. Also, a dose of seawater is a lot nastier than one of lake water. And she swallowed a lot more. Didn't quite suffer a heart attack though.

Laura's managing to finish does of course mean that she and Phil have become the inaugural winners of the award that I myself have been coveting for some years now: the Ryton Tri "Me and Wor Lass" Ironman Award. Never mind, I guess I'll just have to slog it out with Swinny for the runner-up spot.

So that was it, basically; 10 starters, 10 finishers, 7 virgins, 3 Blakies, 1 puncture, and no significant bowel movements. All in all, quite a good day really.

The end

© Madders 2010
All rights reserved - any resemblance between actual events which occurred in Lanzarote and events portrayed in this article is entirely accidental and unintentional.