Ironman Cork – Sunday 20th August 2023 by Louise Sinclair

Having previously completed 140.6 distance at Outlaw in 2021 and Lakesman in 2022, I was keen to try an Ironman-branded event. After much pondering of dates and travel logistics, I went for Cork as we could take the motorhome. The course looked challenging but do-able.

As race week progressed, Storm Betty’s imminent arrival was all over the news. I checked a few forecasts (every hour!) and it looked like it was going to be all over by the Sunday morning. Leaving Keiss at 1pm on the Thursday for the long drive south there was still no sign of Betty. After an overnight stop in Glasgow and a smooth ferry crossing to Belfast, she was still to hit. I noticed on social media that that the 70.3 swim route had been changed due to anticipated sea conditions. Storm Betty arrived as we passed Dublin, it was treacherous from Dublin to Youghal. torrential rain and high winds with much debris on the road. We pulled in at Youghal GAA Club’s campsite around 9.30pm and most of the tent occupants had wisely left their tents and were sleeping in the sports hall.

After more rain overnight and even more wind, I woke up on a reasonably calm Saturday morning to news of the 70.3 being postponed to Sunday. Usual pre-race bike check and quick run followed by heading down to registration and racking, along with sea state inspection by my husband (a fisherman!). There was a good bit of swell but it was more the tide that caught his eye. Anyway, forecast was improving for Sunday so back to the motorhome for an early night.

Race-wise the plan was simple in my mind – survive the swim; make-up some speed on the flat first half of the bike loop, get up the hilly section, fly down the downhill and then drag my backside up Windmill Hill on foot; repeat aforesaid bike plan; and finally, hold onto a decent pace as long as I could on the run. A year’s solid training under the expert eye of Paul Sellars had me hopeful of completion even with that bl&^%y hill.

Arriving at the transition on Sunday morning the sea looked good, not too much swell at all. As the road turned at the lighthouse, we could see that the swell was starting to increase. We were sitting waiting for the half start when an announcement was made that the full was going to be cut to 1900m, many heaved a sigh of relief but I have to admit to being disappointed. If I set out to do a full, then I want to do a full. I should add though that I live right next to the sea therefore my perceptions of ‘rough’ seas and other people’s perceptions are probably two different things, I wasn’t overly concerned. We waited another half an hour and the swell was increasing again and there was another announcement that they were changing the swim course. Eventually the 70.3 swimmers got away and we could see some people struggling to get out to the first buoy. By the time the 140.6 swimmers were lining up we were told to just swim straight out, forget about the first buoy. There were no markers for predicted times, it was a case of speaking to people and trying to align yourself with people of similar times. Arriving at the start line an hour later than envisaged, it was a case of just picking a small looking wave and going for it. The water was a lovely temperature which took away the first element of shock, until the first wave hit!

I reckon I stumbled back a few times, tried swimming into a couple of waves and ended up being hurled backwards. I surfaced looking at the shore and decided to try and breast stroke out, bobbing over the waves. It worked a treat. After 3 or 4 ‘bobbers’, a kayak came over, I held on to catch my breath, had a not very lady-like coughing session and took off. The rest of the swim was rapid once I was going with the tide. Getting out, I came across several people requiring or undergoing medical attention, it was very discomfiting, and I heaved a longer and louder sigh of relief than normal that I was out of the swim safely.

The run to T1 was very short and very kind on the bare feet. T1 was what we describe in Caithness as a ‘hill mart’ – you couldn’t move, it was packed. I think I must have been stood still for 4-5 minutes waiting to get to my bags. Then some idiot came barging past in the wrong direction and stood on my bare feet with his cycling shoes on. Cue much not very lady-like language. I overheard one man mentioning that he had to rescue a swimmer, at this point I think I realised how grim the swim had actually been. One chap had given up trying to get into the changing area and even with his best attempts at modesty, showed me the entire contents of his bento box as I ran out of T1.

Heading out on the bike, the first loop went to more or less to plan although the wind was starting to increase. Windmill Hill was actually a nice chance to stretch the legs. By the second loop, the wind was definitely back up again and the first section was into a stiff headwind which killed my average speed. The climbing section was a pleasant surprise though as I picked off probably 10-15 people who were tiring but I was managing to keep a consistent pace (all those sweet-spot sessions, thank you Paul). The downhill sections were a bit hairy in the wind but helped get the average speed up. I spent the time on the bike pondering whether to race early next year and if I should plan anything else for 2023…. I spotted my husband and shouted to him to phone my mother as I had realised that the swim casualties would likely have made the news and she would be panicking

T2 was more or less empty, thank goodness and it was just out and in. I recall seeing a quote from Paul along the lines of ‘out and in, transition is not a picnic!’

Setting off on the run, my average pace was looking good but I wasn’t entirely sure how long I could hold it together, but managed to keep a decent (in my book) pace until 26/27km. I couldn’t face another gel but needed some food. I grabbed salty snacks at a couple of aid stations and these made a difference but not quite enough. I just walked/ran as required but still managed to pick off a good few runners. The final lap of the four was starting to feel like a struggle but luckily it was just the one lap of doom. At 4:45, the run was faster than my standalone marathon time! Another good example of that Paul Sellars ‘knowing his stuff’.

I always say that I am just happy to finish and never more so than last Sunday was this true. Crossing the line in 13:29:30 last Sunday was disappointing in one way as I felt the cycle could have been faster, but considering the very sad events of the day, I was just happy to finish.

To return to my ponderings on ‘what’s next’, it struck me on the way round that there were not a lot of women competing and I couldn’t see many with 45-49 bibs. A start list hadn’t been published therefore I had no idea on numbers. On perusing the provisional results after I’d hobbled back up Windmill Hill (GAA is at the top, bad planning on my part) listening to Mr S’s continual Guinness-induced moaning about walking up the hill, it suddenly occurred to me that I might just be in with the chance of a rolldown slot for Kona. I’m always cautious on my goals, verging on pessimistic but thought I’d go along to the slot allocation ceremony just on the off chance. I’m chuffed to say that flights are booked and I’m off to Kona in October! It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity and I wasn’t declining. I won’t win any prizes but I’ll hopefully make it round safely and complete it.

Ironman Cork was a fantastic race – I loved the routes and the support was phenomenal. I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend it, but just make sure you get some sea swim practice in as loch swimming just isn’t the same.