Age-grouper Kate Driskell reports on her Ironman 70.3 Ireland experience

kate driskell ironman ireland

Completing a middle distance race is normally painful no matter how fast you go or how well prepared you are – it’s usually all just a matter of scale. But Kate Driskell can have more claim than most as to having suffered when she came off the bike and broke her clavicle. Not one to give up and showing true ‘Ironman’ spirit, she continued on to finish the race.

Kate was one of the original 12 who were attempting to complete the ‘Ultimate Challenge’, which incoporates completing every WTC branded middle and long distance triathlon in the UK and Ireland during 2012. Her injury means that she will be unable to complete the challenge in its entirety but no-one can doubt the sheer guts she has shown in Galway.

Here is her race story.

Ironman 70.3 Ireland by Kate Driskell

Four days before Galway, I fell off my bike and got battered and scraped. At the time I was grateful it hadn’t happened 4 days before IM Wales. Little did I know what was to come.

The day before Ironman 70.3 Ireland, the weather wasn’t great. Rain, winds, swell in the sea. My husband (Norm Driskell) and I went for a little jog in the morning and then tried out the sea. There were volunteers and safety staff from Galway Tri (I think) checking people in and out of the sea and kayakers checking on people and giving handy tips. To be honest, it wasn’t too bad, but the waves were plenty big enough to make sighting of the little orange buoys not easy and to force a large mouthful of water into my throat. That was pretty unpleasant and I struggled not to throw up immediately. We trundled ’round the buoys twice and then got out to sort out bikes and bags into transition.

As we got my bike together, my husband noticed that the gear cable going into my rear mech was dinked. On closer inspection, it was completely mashed, almost totally sheared off with only a couple of strands still intact. Argh! Thank god for on site bike mechanics – a cheerful, silver-haired chap replaced the cable and shroud and sorted out the gear alignment problem that the Planet X has suffered since I first rode it. All for the princely sum of €10 which he was happy to wait a couple of hours for me to go and get as we had no cash on us. Lovely chap!

All racked up next to the pros, thanks to our Ultimate Challenge athlete numbers that stay with us through the 4 races, I decided to leave my nutrition bars (opened and cut in half) in the bento box on the bike so I didn’t forget them in the morning. It rained overnight…

A quiet, early dinner in the pub with the Stannetts (Kate and Charlie, also doing the challenge though Charlie had a horrible race at Bolton and didn’t finish but is still doing the other races anyway) and in bed by 8pm.

Race morning and we have that down to a tee. Tea, Ready Brek (you never know what will be available and at what time, so we take something that works with just hot water) with Nutella and banana in it and time to make up the race drinks. We’ve been training with what’s available in the races even though we should be able to be self-sufficient in this race, so we have Gatorade. And then we discovered an error. We had only enough to make up 2 litres of mix and we needed 3 litres between us. Ah well, upping the solid fuel (I had planned on bagel as well as bars and gels) and taking a weak mix
with mostly water in the second of our bottles would work fine.

A nice short stroll from our (absolutely gorgeous!) B&B, the Sea Breeze Lodge, we went to transition to put bottles and bagel on our bikes (and I found that my bars, although sticky on one end, had not turned into porridge in the overnight rain) and trot off to the swim start.

Unlike Wimbleball, there was a multi-wave start here, with the pros off at 7am; M18-24, M25-29 and M30-34 at 07:05; M35-29 and M50-54 at 07:20; M55-59 and all female athletes at 07:35; M40-49 at 07:50; and finally the relay teams at 08:00. Some of the pros ran into some confusion with the first buoy location, resulting in some adding a good 3-4 minutes to their swim, so the next wave were given information on which buoy to aim for and the erroneous one was soon deflated and removed.

Norm was off at 07:20 and I was soon after at 07:35, in the same wave as Kate and Charlie. As I waited to get into the sea for the deep water start, I couldn’t help dancing along to the great tunes and reminding myself of how bouncy and perky Lucy Gossage was before Wimbleball with the same tunes pumping. The sea was much calmer than the day before and the swim felt pretty good. I had no problem sighting on the first buoy, but the second was very far away and I couldn’t see it for a long time, relying on other athletes and the feel of the swell of the sea to work out the direction. I’m pretty sure I didn’t take the best line and I know I didn’t put in a lot of effort (looking at the HR trace afterwards :o)). The third buoy I
definitely took way too wide and only just heard the safety kayakers shouting at us to go between the last two yellow buoys for the exit.

The swim exit was up the beach, up a concrete ramp and then down the road on the same green carpet as the finish chute (nice on the feet!), across the road and into the field for transition. I overtook quite a few people on that little trot, once I’d got my wet-suit off my arms and shoulders and down to waist level.

A reasonably quick transition with finding my blue bag quickly, dumping out the contents onto a chair, putting my (inside-out, bah!) cycling socks on, discarding my cycling jersey (forgetting it had the second spare inner tube in the pocket), jamming the all-important race belt and cycling helmet on, followed by bike shoes I trotted out to get my bike. That lovely new Adamo seat is not only the most comfortable seat ever, but it’s quite distinctive in its Union Flag
colours so it’s easy to spot hooked over the bike rails. The one thing I had forgotten, which I only noticed as I approached the bike mount line, was my sunglasses. I’d said only the day before that no matter how tempted to not bother with them, glasses would be essential on the course with the wind blowing sand all around. A split second
temptation to turn back and get them was crushed; the wind was much weaker today and I was going to risk it.

The bike course is an almost flat out and back, but the first section goes through the university and has some tight twists and turns, speed bumps and shortly afterwards a bit of rough road surface. I found out later that Bethan Fowler (one of the pros doing the Ultimate Challenge too) crashed in that bit of the course and damaged her rear derailleur. I again lost my front bottle over a rough bit of road, so jammed on the brakes and stopped to get it. A kind old gent had picked it up and was walking towards me. Noooo! This was right in front of a race marshal, so I asked the man to put the bottle down on the ground as I couldn’t accept outside assistance. I had to speak slowly and deliberately as he was so pleased to help someone that he wasn’t listening or comprehending what I was saying. He was only trying to help but didn’t know he could get me disqualified. It was important that I got the message over, or I’d have to leave the bottle with him confused and pick one up at the aid station. He finally got it and I picked up the bottle from the pavement, slotted it in place
and headed off thanking him a few more times so he didn’t think I was a total cow.

Having got loads of mud and grass wedged into my cleats in transition, I had trouble getting clipped back in and nearly had a bit of an accident with my left shoe skittering hard off the pedal, under it and bending my ankle the wrong way briefly. At this point I was convinced I was going to have a really rubbish and slow bike leg, but finally clipped in and tried to settle down. A chunk of bagel and some glugs of Gatorade to start the fuelling and I started to ramp up the power.

As the km started ticking away, I turned up the dial until I started to fly past people. Overtaking people from the start wave before me, I started to feel pretty good. No burning thighs, so definitely not putting down too much power into the pedals the distance was being eaten up on this new set-up of TT bike, aero helmet and comfortable TT seat. The support out on the course was really warm and lovely and every group of people I passed cheered, clapped, clanged cow bells and I waved at them and smiled. For the next 40km I played over-take with the woman who ended up third in my age category before finally making it stick. Coming into the last 15km I was feeling great and still reeling in other athletes when I came to a two way road with what looks like passing lanes on the sides – demarcated by painted lines and cats eyes (which you can clearly see in the Google street view image here – http://goo.gl/maps/xPvXp). Shortly before this part of the road I think I came to a slower cyclist from an earlier wave, who I pulled out from inside the yellow lines into the main lane to overtake. I remember hitting and going over a cats eye. I think I shouted something. I know I fish-tailed 5 or 6 times trying to regain control of the bike, thinking “when is this going to stabilise” before finally losing the bike out from underneath me. I was doing 34.5 km/h at the time.

I remember being on my back, shouting “help, oh god, someone help please”. Then there were people. A man with a mountain bike and maybe some others. I remember lying on my back saying “please don’t make me stop, I have to finish, I have four of these to do”. I remember being briefly worried I’d broken my leg and then seeing a small cut on my thumb and thinking that was the only injury. Then I remember someone pushing me on the back of my seat to get me started.
I have no idea how I got on my bike. Later, I could see from the Garmin stats that I was stopped for about 5 minutes and 20 seconds or so (time vs. moving time).

I have no idea how I got back the last 9ish km to transition from the crash site. No memory of it at all. I remember turning off my bike computer. I remember sitting in the transition tent in the medical area, a face talking to me, but no idea what he said or who he was, and again I said that I had to finish and begged not to have to stop.
I have no memory otherwise of what happened in transition. I have no recollection of taking off my helmet or shoes, racking my bike or getting my red bag (I suspect volunteers did a lot of it for me). I remember putting on my left running shoe with one hand and not understanding why at the time. I remember deciding not to put on my running cap and thinking it was a shame I didn’t have my sun glasses. I don’t remember getting out on to the run course. Apparently I was
in T2 for around 15 minutes.

Memory returns at some point on the run course when I started to talk to a guy called Jamie (I think), who recognised my name from the programme (all the Ultimate Challenge athletes are named with photos in the race programme in a double page spread) it turned out. I was being shadowed by the medic bicycles, some of who were happy to chat
and told me they’d been sent to watch over me, some hung back trying to be subtle (guys, the free-wheel clicking is a dead give-away :o)).

I knew something wasn’t right as my left arm naturally gravitated to sitting with my hand latched onto my heart rate transmitter and as I passed Norm on his 2nd lap as I was on my first I let him know something was up but that I’d go to the medic tent at the end.

As I passed spectators on the run course, I kept hearing sharp intakes of breath, the odd “oh dear god”, and “that’s so brave”. All I knew was my arm needed to be at the angle I was holding it at and I could see a bit of a graze on the front of my left shoulder out of the corner of my eye. What were they seeing that I couldn’t? The chap I was talking to said I had quite a graze down the back which looked nasty, so I guessed that was it. I actually felt pretty OK as long as I held my arm in place and didn’t jar things too much. Walking the aid stations for water and a glug of energy drink, I knew I’d get to
the end and it wouldn’t be too shabby either. No run PB for the distance, but not dawdling for sure.

On my final lap, I came across Charlie Stannett and we ran together for a bit. He decided to run just behind my left shoulder to shield me from accidental bumps from other athletes (what a sweetie!) and we stayed together until he finally spotted his Kate (who he’d been worried about to that point as he’d not yet seen her on the run) just as we came to the final funnel either to the finishing chute (where I was then headed) or more run laps (Charlie had another lap to go).

I saw the green carpet and launched myself down the finishing chute. I could hear Paul Kaye, the race commentator, calling my name in almost disbelief that I was coming for the finish line (turns out I was all over the race radio from the crash onwards) and I knew the race was almost done and I could get sorted by the medics.

As I crossed the line and was handed my medal I was greeted by a medic who said they’d been waiting for me. He led me to the medical area to find a concerned-looking Norm. We sat and I was tended to. I asked Norm how he’d done. Having no idea what my time was, I said “it wasn’t under 6 was it?” Little did I know at the time that I’d come in at 06:18 myself (including a 5 minute “rest” on the bike, a 15 minute “nap” in T2 and two wee stops on the run), and he said “05:22″
with a big grin on his face.

Damian (or was it Derren?) the medic cleaned up my grazes and got the doctor to come and give me a shot of difene in the bum for the pain. That took about 20 minutes to kick in and then I felt lovely. Nobody was too sure whether my collar bone was broken or not at the time but the lack of movement and the pain level was enough to send me to hospital for x-rays to be sure. Norm stayed behind to get our race bags, bikes and assorted stuff while I was whisked off in an ambulance to the local A&E.

Long story short, I ended up stood in front of the x-ray machine while the radiographer took his x-ray. We chatted and I was still in denial right up to saying, “I’m racing again in 2 weeks” *click*bzzzzz* (goes the x-ray machine) “No you’re not”. And he showed me the x-ray. Up until this point, and even after, I was convinced I’d be able to carry on with the Ultimate Challenge and that everything would be fine.

I cannot in any way condone doing what I did on this day. The drain on race safety resources who could have been needed by someone in real trouble was not a good thing to have done. It was utterly selfish of me, but at the time I was full of adrenaline and had “race head” on.

I am glad for myself that I finished, more on why that is in another post along with the stats and analysis.

The rest is a story for another day.

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