Weymouth 70.3, 17 Sep 2023

The caravan illuminated as the thunder rumbled across the Jurassic coastline of Weymouth. It was 2am, and with only 3hrs hours to go before needing to be up for my first ever 70.3, I started to feel a bit apprehensive. Unable to sleep my sister and I sat up, glaring through the skylight of the caravan watching the rain hammer the window, and the sudden flashes of lightning light up the surrounding hills. The caravan shook from side to side in the wind. It hadn’t yet dawned on me that, unless the storm passed very quickly I’d be racing in these conditions.

It felt like minutes before the alarm went off, and we started to hear other campers shuffling about, preparing to leave for the race too. With all my clothes laid out the previous evening, I got dressed quickly and then spent a proportionally larger time trying to get breakfast down me. The nerves meant I wasn’t really hungry, but I knew heading into the race that nutrition was going to be my biggest obstacle to overcome, having struggled in the past fuelling enough for long rides and runs.

Luckily my sister Enya had volunteered (as a qualified Open Water Lifeguard, and licensed powerboat Driver), to help marshal the swim, so Dad managed to drop us off pretty close to swim start. At this point the rain was still hammering down and the sun was yet to rise - having very soggy socks, believe it or not, was the only thing that was worrying me at this point! The lightning in the immediate area had subsided, but we could still see the flashes around the coastline.  

The previous evening my godfathers, who live in the area, had come over for dinner. My Dad and my godfathers, all being sailors, were having their typical chit chat about sailing when the conversation diverted to a race that Uncle John and Uncle Paul were due to be doing in the bay in the morning too, just slightly further out than where my swim would be. As very experienced sailors from the RAF, it took me by surprise when they were contemplating sailing in the bay, due to the offshore winds and swell. I gave them a glance, and suddenly I think it dawned on them that I had to swim in the same ‘swell’ ! They reassured me that it would be fine, but sailors know wind and wave conditions better than anyone, so I was definitely a bit unnerved.  

The waves were crashing in as I looked out on to the swim course, and the buoys barely looked in formation as they rocked to and fro. Multiple people were trying to do a swim recce and just getting nowhere. They kept being called in to shore as the ‘swim recce’ had not yet been opened. The clock was counting down to race start and still no official swim recce. All suited up in my wetsuit, the swim was then declared cancelled! I was pretty gutted.  

I completed my first ever triathlon 10 years ago that same week. And whilst I looked up to the likes of the Brownlee brothers, my real inspirations were always the adults from my home Tri club, MedwayTri, many of whom raced Ironmans and even made it to Kona! I was desperate to give it a go too – and even be half as good as my role models for all those years. Not having the swim in the 70.3, just felt like I was cheating a bit- ‘its not 70.3  miles anymore?’ I thought to myself.  

After a little 5 min tantrum, I suited up for the bike, opting to put a jersey over my short course trisuit to shield me from the wind chill. The bike was to be a staggered start, set off by number. As number 599, I was one of the early participants to set off. I went hard on the first few kilometres, trying to avoid getting stuck behind slower cyclists. I then settled into a rhythm. I was still pretty new to TT bike riding and so found it a bit challenging on the first couple of hills with the weight of the bike in comparison to my road bike. I rode cautiously and conservatively, ensuring that I wasn’t going to overcook it too early. By half way I was making good progress, averaging 33kph and, according to my supporters, I was leading my age group at that point. This lead lasted until around 65km. From half way to 65km I felt super strong and in control, having progressed quite quickly on some people further up the road.

However the final big climb of the race really tested me. I really struggled to get enough power through the pedals to get me up the very steep and long climb. I kept pushing, knowing that if I stopped I’d find it difficult to get going again. I got to the top, almost grinding to a halt as I caught my breath again.  

As a lighter rider, I knew that the last segment of the ride is where I’d lose time, as the course was downhill back to transition. But what I didn’t anticipate was the complete bonk I’d have. Simultaneously, the rain and wind ramped up, and I could barely see a few meters ahead. I was pretty unnerved, especially as sidewind gusts caught me as there were openings in between the hedges. I didn’t want to take my hands off the handlebars, and completely forgot about fuelling. BIG MISTAKE! My legs were like rocks for the last 20km as I dropped down to cycling around 26kph.  People that I previously overtook came flying past, offering words of encouragement in the process. I felt a bit disappointed that I couldn’t sustain my original speed and my lead, but equally things like nutrition take multiple races to master, and I’d tried my best. I also HATE riding in the wind, so knowing now that I can race in any weather conditions is a real confidence boost! 

The cheers as I returned to transition were immense, I couldn’t believe the volume of spectators that had stuck it out in the dismal weather. I took my time in T2, popping on some dry socks and a quick portaloo break - the luxury of long course racing! I set out on the run and flew the first few kilometres. It was a bit deceiving as I felt comfortable. The first 2km I ran at equal pace to what I’d do a Standard distance triathlon at, around 4.15min/km, I knew this probably was a bit quick but equally I wasn’t 100% sure where my running fitness was at, so I just kept the rhythm going. But then, like a flick of a switch, the bonk hit me again at 4km in. Unfortunately, this coincided with when I saw my parents for the first time on the course, and to say the least they didn’t get the best reception from me! 

It was difficult as everyone else looked like they were having the best time, but I just felt horrendous. I kept pushing - stopping wasn’t an option! Counting down the kilometres, things began to get really tough by kilometre 16. By this point, placing or time wasn’t a concern. My Auntie Hattie and Auntie Catherine had said before the race, that even to attempt it was a huge accomplishment, and not to be hard on myself, so this kept me motivated to get to the end. Luckily, a University of Nottingham boy, who’d been about 20m ahead of me for the whole run, stopped with the same bonking feeling as me. I offered to run the last 4km together, and he was so grateful, but it helped me more than I think he knew at the time! 

I finally crossed the line in just over 5hrs. This was actually my goal time (let’s just pretend the swim happened!). Pizza at the finish solved all of my troubles, although I was exhausted.  

I’m definitely going to do an Ironman again but maybe in warmer/dryer weather next time! It was the most challenging thing I have ever done and I can’t wait to give it another bash. If anyone has any good nutrition recommendations, please get in touch I’d love to hear from you. (I was super bloated from gels, so any other options may be nice!).  

Thank you to my family and friends who came out to support! I probably didn’t show enough love and appreciation on the day, but it meant the world to me. And well done to my boyfriend and teammate George who absolutely smashed it! Thank you also to Tim, who made sure my TT bike was fitted to a T and race ready, I felt super comfortable especially given the lack of training hours I had available leading up to the race.  

Now time for off season!

Lilly Gibbs