From Newbie to Norseman
by Mark Richardson
“Beep, beep, beep, beep” goes the alarm at 0230 on August 6th, 2005. Oh my god it’s early! Due to various worrying thoughts building up in my mind the night before, I hadn’t had much more than 2 ½ hours sleep, despite going to bed just after 9. Not the ideal preparation for a race that I knew would take me well in excess of 15 hours.
At registration there were already a number of competitors in various states of undress talking and mulling around, but this was a pre-race build up I had not experienced before (bear in mind though that this was only my 4th triathlon). The atmosphere was a mixture of apprehension and excitement.
I put on my wetsuit, posed for a few photos and climbed aboard the boat that would take us out into the Hardanger fjord for the race start and a 2.4 mile swim to the first transition at Brimnes.
The boat journey didn’t seem to take long and I had soon met up with the other British guys for some light (nervous) banter before the off. Then the boat stopped and the passenger door on the side of the cardeck opened. Its was just getting light and boy, did that clear fjord water look cold! I waited my turn and eventually got in … I was right, it was cold, but the race had started so I set my stopwatch running and set off on the swim. I had only been doing front crawl since February but knew if I took it relatively easy I could cover the 2.4 miles.
It was important not to spend too long in the icy water and more importantly not to expel too much energy as it was going to be a long day. I set off at a steady pace and passed quite a few people, some of which amazingly were doing breaststroke. This must be why there is a 2½ hour cut off time for the swim. I eventually got to the swim- bike transition in around 1 hour and 10 minutes and climbed up the seaweed covered rocks to get changed for the bike leg.
Roughly 5 minutes later and I was away on my bike. I almost immediately started eating and drinking as I knew the first 7 or 8 miles were flat and an ideal opportunity to fuel up. After around 25 minutes I came to the first climb, which takes competitors from sea level to 4500 feet in altitude in around 25 miles along an old tourist road. This was not all that steep and I felt fairly comfortable but I was pleased for my triple chainset and gear set up. I passed quite a few others, some of whom were already really struggling and some who offered advice. “Don’t push too hard” and “don’t push like this on the last climb” (there were 5 main climbs in total, but the last one had the reputation for putting an end to peoples plans if they pushed too hard on it and this was always in the back of my mind.)
I reached the top and took on some more water and food from my dad who was waiting patiently (he did this all day) and admiring what view there was (he did this all day too when the conditions allowed). The next part of the bike course was not exactly flat but more undulating and certainly high up. We were above the snow line on a plateau that slowly made its way down and to the east to a place called Geilo, which was roughly the half-way point of the bike section of the race. After a misty hour or so the weather cleared up to reveal fantastic views of the plateau, glaciers and mountain tops, but I was not there for sightseeing.
Eventually after 4 hours of riding I made it to Geilo. I had some more to drink and some Christmas cake to eat (not everyone’s choice but my favourite), and set off on the second half of the ride. I was still making good time but knew I had 4 of the 5 main climbs to come, all in the next 50 miles. I soon came to the bottom of the first one. It was 7% for around 3 miles. I ground my way up to the top trying to preserve energy more than make good time and then after a rapid descent came the second and third. They were all pretty much the same length and gradient. My dad was at the top for each one offering encouragement, food and drink, without which I would have been in some serious trouble.
After another descent and a short roll along the valley I came to climb number 5 … “Immingfell”. I knew I had to take it easy here in order to save something for the run section of the race, but I had already cycled 90+ miles (this was further than I had ever done.) I eventually got to the top, but this was the hardest hill I had ever climbed up. It just went on and on and on, for around 5 miles, and I hoped I hadn’t done too much to get to the top. I stopped at my dad’s car and had a good feed (as it turned out a little too good!) and then set off for the 25 mile descent to transition 2 where I would start the run. I would not see my dad again until there, and doubted that the descent was 25 miles long, but amazingly it was downhill all the way. At this point it started to rain heavily and I was already cold. (I had never really warmed up after the swim apart from briefly at the top of the 5 climbs), I bombed down the other side of Immingfell and got colder and colder the nearer I got to transition. My thumbs were completely numb and my fingers had turned to claws making gear changes virtually impossible and braking a bit of a lottery as well (not good on a 25 mile descent!). My leg muscles were cramping up when they were not moving and my face felt swollen and puffed up. I was in a bad way. After 45 minutes of descent I finally reached transition. My dad was waiting and quite worried, as I must have appeared a wreck and certainly haven’t been anything like this cold since my army days. I told him I needed to get changed and start running as soon as I could as this would warm me up. I couldn’t even undo my helmet buckle or take my socks off, so without my support team I would have had major difficulties continuing.
There were guys in a lot worse state than me. A French guy was wrapped from head to toe in a blanket, and was just lying on the floor shivering. This somehow cheered me up (not because he was French I should say!). I put on my tri kit with a long-sleeved top and running tights over the top and set off on the run. 26 miles to go!
Thankfully the first 10 miles or so of the run is pan flat and I’m sure very picturesque on a nice day. I soon warmed up and after around 4 or 5 miles removed my outer layers. I felt good and was moving quite freely and my only complaint was that I had eaten too much earlier and now and again felt a little sick. After 12 miles I felt the need to walk so I said to myself “just walk for a minute and run for 15”. I did this for a while but as my legs became weaker my walks became longer and runs became shorter. What mattered though was I was getting there.
After 18 miles I came to the outskirts of a place called Rjukan. The route turns a hard left here and makes its way up for the last 8 miles to the finish. It seemed like a wall of trees with the zig-zag road occasionly visable on its winding way up. It was 10% all the way now so there was no way I could run any faster. I refuelled at the race service point, half a banana and some water and then set off. I had met up with a Norwegian guy call Hakun and also Jens Richter (editor of a German triathlon magazine, he was supported by German pro and Ironman swim record holder Jan Sibberson … very flash!). We all walked quickly up the road, passing others and being passed by others. (Norwegians seem to be strong walkers due to their cross country ski training)
We would soon learn that we would not be allowed to go to the original finish line due to snow and that a new finish line had been created, but we would all qualify for our black “norseman” t-shirts, which came as a massive relief. There was no way I was not going to finish now. As we climbed it got colder, the rain got heavier and the wind stronger making it harder and harder all the way to the line. I was so cold with 3 miles left I decided to run to get finished and try to get a little bit warm. I have no idea where I found the strength for this but Hakun and I made it 15 and a half hours after starting out. I was exhausted and very cold and wet, but immensely proud of my achievement. The marathon had taken around 6 ½ hours, but the last 8 miles had taken over 3 of these and had seemed never ending. On getting into the car I was heard uttering the words “never ever let me do this again!” but on reflection and certainly after the post race presentation and the whole atmosphere, I would definitely go back.
My splits and finishing time:
| Swim | 2.4 miles | 1.12.34 | ||
| Cycle | 118 miles | 7.56.21 | ||
| Run | 26.2 miles | 6.03.52 |
Total time with transitions: 15:33:29 (place joint 93rd)
There are some people I could not have done this without:
Thanks must go to the following people:
The lads that I cycle with that put up with my bad sense of humour and sense of direction every Sunday morning. You know who you are.
Little Jim at Gateshead pool for your words of encouragement.
Special thanks must go to:
Anne for putting up with all my washing for the last 11 months, and for waking her up to go training at silly o’clock in the morning, also to Poppy for just being there, and of course my Dad and Val who supported me brilliantly before, during and after the race and who there was no way I would have been anywhere near finishing the race without.