Drogo 10, 8th and final event, 15 November 2015

Photo from Chris Gurney's post in The Drogo 10, 2015.

Meet the last castle to be built in England, Castle Drogo.  Set in 450 acres and completed in 1930, it took 19 years to build.  It was run as a home for babies made homeless during the second world war. Today it's Grade 1 listed and run by the National Trust and is undergoing a conservation project until 2017 to make it watertight.  An impressive granite building with a rich history and a fitting the stage for my final challenge to raise money for http://www.jeremiahsjourney.org.uk/ and https://www.stlukes-hospice.org.uk/

Devon in the autumn (and Dartmoor in particular) means rain.  Bucketfuls.  A squall greeted me when I went to see Plymouth Albion lose to Darlington on the eve of the race.  A slippery trail adds an extra frisson of risk on steeper descents.  A shame perhaps as I hope for a PB and don't want to be too cautious.

I was fueled for lunch at the said rugby by a tasty meat pie.  Worried I needed more carbs, I forced pasta down myself in the evening.   Went to bed somewhat full.

A little drier Sunday morning,  the usual race briefing was prefaced with a warning that we will need to scrub ourselves off in a sheep dip at the end to avoid spreading a fungus that kills oak trees.  That'll be nice.

From the off, the race profile shares the characteristics of a roller coaster with relatively little flat.  The first mile or so is a sharp downhill stumble/sprint to a narrow footbridge over the River Teign.  Clock sub 6 min mile.  Arrive ahead of the pack to avoid bottlenecks and over we go and then ease off a little.
Jog eastwards along the lumpy river path, mud accumulating on my calves. I pass a man limping, perhaps paying the price for too fast a start and ask if he's ok.

At 3 miles there's a 400ft climb spread over 0.3 miles reaching a 28% grade at one point.  Ouch.  Part way up, I adopt an ungainly wobbly walk (quicker than running) and hope that others won't notice.  Think Monty Python.  Pace tumbles to 20:30 min mile for a short spell.

After a mile, we descend almost to the river, head back up again and finally down to mile 6 for a flat (ish) 2 miles.  At this stage my average pace is 7:35 which would see me smash my previous best.  This is misleading as I know that there's a 440ft climb at mile 8 which will slow things right down.  Sure enough it does and here is me puffing and panting up the fabled Hunters path:

Photo courtesy of Wild Dodo Photography

I remember being glad i'd chosen to wear a vest (even though it was cool at the start) since I was baking climbing all the hills.

Just I was didn't think I could go much further, the path leveled off.   An undulating mile to the finish, punctuated by seeing my wife and 3 year old son playing in the trees.  His yell of "Dad" was a great pick me up and got me to the end.  Over the line and I was actually given a scrubbing brush for the sheep dip!

https://www.strava.com/activities/433423593

PB of 1:16:30, 48th out of 477.

There's a delightful epilogue.  Bovey Castle http://www.boveycastle.com/are supporters of Jeremiah's Journey. The previous day, when I told their events manager what I has been doing, she booked my family a complimentary meal.  What an amazing place!  Valet parking, log fires, a beautiful setting and impeccable service.  We didn't want to leave.  A real act of kindness.  Quite glad I had scrubbed down after the race.

A huge thanks to everyone who has supported my fundraising for Jeremiah's Journey and St Lukes.  This year, I've run or cycled over 1,908 miles (139,000 ft ascent) and have done 176k of swimming.  I've loved it of course but am relieved to be cutting back a bit now!

Here's a link to the fundraising page if you would like to donate:

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/StephenDilley

"And now, the end is near..."

2 amazing charities; St Lukes and Jeremiah's Journey.

Left by myself too long with a laptop + credit card = 8 tough challenges entered across 3 disciplines.

The story so far in numbers:

169k swimming;

1,353 miles cycling;

393 miles run;

over 133,000 ft ascent; and

£1,485 raised.

In a week and a half , I will complete my final challenge, the Drogo 10.  Please support if you can.

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/StephenDilley

In the meantime, here are some snaps from my Autumn training runs:

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Dawlish Triathlon, 20th September 2015

Photo courtesy of Dawlish Warren Life Saving Club.  We had more fog to contend with on the day.


1,500m swim, 40k bike, 10k run.

7th fundraising event of 8 for St Lukes and Jeremiah's Journey.  http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/StephenDilley

The beauty of multisport events is that it's easier to train more frequently than a single discipline, as you exercise different muscle groups. Consequently, I know triathletes who train 6-9 times a week. The downside to this is when you scale it back, as you should for a race week, you wonder if you are training enough (crazy as though that may sound) but I stick to my guns and ease off in the lead up to the big day.


This race means a lot. It's the only triathlon I've entered this year and after months and hours of training, I want to get it right. I spend a while studying the race briefing and the course.


Mornings are getting darker and at 5am on a Sunday, the sun's sensibly having a lie in.  What we do for our sport, but I need to get up early to get some porridge down me to fuel up for today's challenge, plus Dawlish Warren is a decent drive from home and I need to register and set up my paraphernalia.  Just look at the kit list:

• Tri suit (leaves nothing to the imagination. Shouldn't really be worn in public);
• Goggles (sprayed with de-mister) & spares in case they snap;
• Wetsuit (hole hastily glued up the night before);
• Nice thick swim hat (not sure why I bother, we'll be supplied a thin one for the race which I'll feel obliged to wear);
• Bike;
• 2 energy gels attached to bike with electrical tape;
• Spare energy gels and bar for before and after;
• Water bottle for bike leg;
• Bottle of energy drink for bike leg;
• Spare water for afterwards;
• Helmet;
• Sunglasses;
• Rear bike light (in case of poor visibility - came in handy);
• Track pump (I took this with me even though I'd checked my tyre pressure the night before.  Why?);
• Hand towel (for standing on in T1.  Sprinkled with talcum powder so I could dry out quicker.);
• Socks (with added talc);
• Cycling shoes (also sprinkled liberally with talc to reduce chafing. By this stage, my wife was frowning at the smell in our bedroom and had pointedly opened the window.  Had to explain how talcum powder was my best friend and then retreat to lounge to finish sprinkling it in my shoes);
• Running shoes - ditto;
• Race belt;
• GPS watch;
• Spray on lubricant (helps wetsuit come off quicker in transition and reduces chafing);
• Headtorch (it'll still be dark when I arrive to register);
• Green tub to put the above stuff in;
• ipod for car (got to get into "the zone" on the way there); and
• Pen (to write my emergency contact details on the back of my race number.  There's a comforting thought).

Really, you'd think triathlons were better suited to octopuses.

Upon arrival, marshal glances at my bike on the car roof.  The main car park is on the far side of a tunnel through a low railway bridge.  He tells me I won't make it.  I park in the overflow,  means more tooing and froing with said kit.  Doh! At least I'm not alone in that.

I glance around the car park and see some highly tuned TT bikes with aero bling and idly ponder if there is room for another bike in our garage (as I have a regular road bike) and at what stage I'd lose all credibility with family members if another bike appeared.  Could I pretend it was on long term loan from a friend who never turned up to collect it? Hmm.

Registration. Collect a nice bag housing a sealed envelope containing timing chip, instructions, sticky race number for swim cap, race number for bike/run, drawstring bag, finishers t-shirt, leaflets advertising more races, bike servicing and sponsors and energy bars.  Move down line.  Mars Bar and banana go into bag.  Another energy bar added too.  Good job I came alone, not sure the car would have had enough room otherwise for my burgeoning collection.

Go back to car.  Use pen to punch hole in race number so it will attach to race belt.  Wish chap who parked next to me doing the race good luck.  Collect all the bumf.  Off to transition.  Rack my bike and lay all the kit out. What order?  Towel at front, sunglasses, arms open in helmet.  Helmet on tri belt.  Tri belt on cycling shoes (I'm not skilled enough yet to start with shoes attached to my bike). Hope the neighboring competitor doesn't knock over my little tower.  Kit layout is unashamedly precise.  There seems no point wasting a few minutes gained on the swim or the bike by losing race positions during transition.  It's an easy win.

Transition, photo courtesy of Mick Brian

Back to car and squeeze on wetsuit. Shoes off and at this point a gap in my training becomes apparent. Should have done more barefoot practice as I am now shoeless. Ouch.


See friends: Dave; Richard; Bev; Luke; Terry; Julian and Matt.  Hats off to Terry and Richard who are braving it out despite injuries which won't help their run.  Obligatory loo stops. Field assembles for the race briefing. Race director defers start for 15 minutes to allow sea mist to clear. We troop over to the beach.

Members of Plymouth Tri club planning their route through the fog.  Photo courtesy of Matt Rayment.

I have a wetsuit that zips downwards instead of upwards to close (it's quicker to remove in transition), but this, combined with my shameful lack of flexibility, means I ask Richard to zip me in and rightly take some ridicule.


At first I can't see which buoys we will need to swim around. Then the near one comes into view. Marshals assemble on the beach. Mini conference and they sensibly decide that since their motor boats couldn't find the farthest buoys, we wouldn't stand much chance.  The swim course will be shortened to 600 metres. That will make the pace of the swim more frantic than I'd like, but at least the sea is calm.


I am in the first swim wave and we line up. Some giant jellyfish splatter the beach and we need to avoid slipping on them in the rush to the sea. (That would look very Frank Spencer).


The Marshall shouts "Oggy! Oggy! Oggy!" and we respond. We're psyched up and the stage is set.


Off we go.


The rest is now history. A great fast paced race, with a dramatic finish: I got overtaken 50m before the end, but pulled it back on the finish line in an ungainly sprint.  It was superbly well organised by Dawlish Triathlon.

The splits:

Swim 11:20
T1 3:14
Bike 1:20:50
T2 0:42
Run 42:23

Total 2:18:32

Overall 45, (24th in my category).

I cross the line at last.

My friend Dave looking strong on the run.

Much later, I arrive home. My wife Rachel has looked after our 3 year old Tom all morning and is tired. They've had great fun at the village dog show. I may have done a triathlon, but in terms of energy expenditure, I probably got the easier end of the draw. Now time for dad duties.

3 days to go to Dawlish tri

Spinning's back on after a summer recess.  We open with that infamous Buggles track.  A light show has been added and now I'm calling it Dawn's Disco.  I hope a class will do me good before Sunday's race, the Dawlish Triathlon.

This will be the seventh event, but the first time all the disciplines come together.  Wish me luck!

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/StephenDilley

Plymouth Breakwater Swim, 16 August 2015

Smeaton's Tower 

Plymouth breakwater barely visible on the horizon

Of all the events this year I've entered, this is probably the craziest.  2.2 miles of open water swimming seemed like a good idea at Christmas, after a glass of wine when I was left to my own devices too much  If only I hadn't had a laptop and credit card to hand, I might never have entered.

Keeps the jellyfish away

Plymouth breakwater is one of the largest freestanding marine structures in Great Britain.  It's arc spans over 1500m and it's over 13m wide. It protects the harbour from south westerly gales.  For more, see:
http://www.engineering-timelines.com/scripts/engineeringItem.asp?id=99

Registration

The week leading up to the breakwater swim must've seen a surge in the use of the BBC Weather app by the open water swimming fraternity.  4 or 5 days out, it seemed like we'd have to contend with strong winds and a downpour.  In the event, the conditions turned out to be perfect.  A light southerly breeze.  Some sun.  Calm waters.  Bingo.  This didn't fully alleviate all nerves at registration as the scale of what we'd signed up to finally sank in.  Had an enterprising solicitor offered will writing services at the start, they'd have done a brisk trade.

I wondered whether the possible exception to the anxious might be certain of the Devon Wild Swimmers.  For some of these hardy souls, the swim alone wasn't enough of a challenge; they elected to do it sans wetsuit.  Goose fat was liberally applied.  Thoughtfully, the organizers said they could disembark last from the boats at the breakwater.  Rather them than me.  I have no pride and was happy to take all the warmth and buoyancy I could get from suiting up.

Snook on the back of the obligatory team photo

There was a great atmosphere.  It turns out a fair number of Plymstock Road Runners moonlight as swimmers.  It was good to see friendly faces and exchange some banter.  We were well supported.

Soon enough we left the Barbican and headed on our 20 minute journey to the breakwater.  I looked back a few times to see which buoys I would be able to sight off.  I should have studied this earlier from dry land as the angles from the boat were deceptive.  Rookie.

Nearer the breakwater I spotted a jellyfish.  Thankfully that was the only one I saw the whole day.  Afterwards, I was reliably assured by a friend that he saw "thousands" a metre and a half below us.  Sometimes, ignorance is bliss.

In we jumped, careful not to lose goggles.  We fanned out and I avoided the prow of one of the boats drifting towards us.  There seemed to be a false start of sorts, but soon enough there was a short countdown and off we went.

Off you go, crazy people.

There was very little to sight off beyond a huge yellow buoy fairly early on which I made the mistake of swimming to the right of.  Smeaton's Tower was a constant, small blip on the horizon which we were aiming for.

I fell into a good rhythm and kept going, for may be 20 minutes or so.  I thought I was doing fairly well (I had no-one around me apart from a guy on a surf board).  I was disabused of that notion by the marshall with a loudhailer who instructed me to take a 90 degree left turn and head back into the pack!  Unwittingly I got caught up in a current that dragged me far to the right of the field.

The middle section of sea was wide and seemed to take ages, but the tide started assisting us.  I cramped in my right calf which was worrying, but managed to shake most of it off. Eventually I made it to shore.  1:01:50.  Nothing I'd drunk before tasted as sweet as the bottle of water I was handed on Tinside beach.

The arena was busy with those welcoming us home and we swapped war stories. I think in the end most were just happy to have finished.

Later, plotting my course on a GPS, I saw that I'd swam in a crescent moon shape with a distinctive triangular eye in the middle where I went particularly wrong.  Added at least another .1 mile, which sounds nothing but felt like plenty.

I am delighted that as a result we have raised nearly £1,500 for Jeremiah's Journey and St Lukes.  Thank you to those who have supported me.  If you would like to sponsor me, please go to:

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/StephenDilley

Here is a link to BBC Spotlight's coverage:

https://www.facebook.com/bbcspotlight/videos/1003868956345269/?fref=nf

Thank you to those from DWS and PTC whose photos I've cribbed for this blog.

Mind the ferry

The end is in sight.

A warm reception at Tinside

Whales, Jellyfish and Whiplash

Mountbatten is the venue for outdoor swimming practice.  My first outdoor swim of the season seems hard.  Perhaps it's because I am tired as it's the day after the Dartmoor Classic.  

Not for the first time, I wonder if I've bitten off more then I can chew with the pending 4k sea swim.  I've done nothing remotely as far in open water before and looking at it from my office window, it seems daunting.  It doesn't help that jellyfish are out in large numbers this year, borne on warm ocean currents.  One Sunday in July, I do the swim leg of Falmouth triathlon as a practice and see some rather large ones a metre and a half underneath me.  I hurry on.

A month or so ago, a humpback whale was sighted near Dartmouth.  It could just as easily have been Plymouth Sound.

As you can see, the next challenge is going to be as much a mental one as a physical one.

I have a confession.  3 weeks ago I took on a rather large wave whilst body boarding on holiday.  The wave won, my head lost and I have whiplash that doesn't seem to be going away as quickly as I'd hoped.  Fingers crossed it'll sort itself out.

Wish me luck.

If you would like to help me raise money for St Luke's Hospice and Jeremiah's Journey, here is my page.  http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/StephenDilley

Dartmoor Classic Sportive, 67 miles, 5th event

                                                                                         

The first 4 photos were taken by Graham Brodie

Sunday 21 June 2015.  The Dartmoor Classic.  All the bitterly cold, dark night commutes over winter and long weekend rides had finally come to this.  A potent cocktail:  Over 3,000 riders.  67.5 miles.  6,300 foot of climbing.  Dartmoor, an environment so inhospitable they built a prison there.   A sideways figure of 8 route starting from Newton Abbot Racecourse through Bovey Tracey, Beckaford, Hay Tor, skirting Ashburton and Holne, up to Princetown. Down past the Warren House Inn to  Moretonhampstead, then Doccombe to Dunsford before turning back to Newton Abbot.  A new strava king of the mountains challenge on one of the climbs.  Mix in a westerly headwind and you have all the hall marks of a great event.

It's iconic.  It sells out in half a day every year.  It's not hard to see why.

Hay Tor

Came down with a sore throat on Friday
afternoon, then a cold.  Thankfully,
not a bad one.  Doesn't even qualify as man flu.
Still, am not feeling great.  That's what paracetamol
is for.  Right? I've raised more than £1,000 now for Jeremiah's Journey and St Lukes.  They need the money and there's no backing out!

I've gone all MAMIL and aero.  I've sun creamed more in hope that expectation. This being Devon, I've also stashed a gilet in a back pocket. Applied anti chaffing cream to strategic bits.  Cleaned and serviced bike.  Bought half of TORQ's supply of energy gels and bars (check their share price) even though there is a feed station at Princetown.  Attached rear bike light out of paranoia it might rain. (It's the lightest month of the year, what am I thinking?)  Inflate tyres to 110 psi.  Probably too hard but don't want to risk a puncture as I am rubbish at changing the inner tube.  Drink lots of water in advance to compensate for dehydrating effects of having a cold.

Get chatting to a guy in the starting pen.  His first time and he's looking forward to it.  Voice in my head: Do I really need another wee or is it pre-race nerves?  Too late.  We leave Newton Abbot racecourse en masse, escorted by a patrol car in a neutralised section until the race...er sportive starts a few miles up the road.

Out through Bovey Tracey, heading towards Beckaford.  Gorgeous countryside - stunning views.  Impeccably
organised and marshaled event.  Great camaraderie.
Did I mention some hills?

Princetown is about half way.  I crammed in the fuel:
Flapjack, bananas, energy bar. etc etc.  More please.

The last 17 miles were downhill or flat and that's
when the fun started.  Got on to a chain gang (ie
a line) of about 6 or 7.  The formation comes from
the fact that it is harder to cycle at the front of the
gang than in the shelter of another rider.  The riders
behind enjoy the slipstream of the rider in front and
the effect is significant - apparently up to 40%

Holne Chase by Joseph Harnett, a cat 4 climb

reduction in effort.  I can't imagine I get quite that
much benefit as I'm nervous cycling in a group and
hang back a little more.

We co-operated well and surprisingly, I felt strong.
During one of my turns at the front,
I glanced back but couldn't see any of the riders.  Unintentionally, I'd left them behind.  Rookie mistake.  Should've learned from my last event!  I carried on, passing the odd rider.  About 5 miles from the finish I was given a lesson in why, at times, cycling is a team sport:  The chain gang, with their relatively fresher legs, cruised by.  Smug boys.  Where had they come from?

I jump on the  wheel of man on a bright green Trek at the back of the gang and dig in.  3 miles left, we shimmy through an outlying estate in Newton Abbot.  Up a hill, I drop a gear into the small ring at the front and somehow go through the entire group.  I'm out front and need to make a move.  Queue the training from Dawn's spinning classes.

Managed to keep a lead until hitting a red light just before the racecourse.  Marshall makes sure no-one jumps it.  2 people catch me whilst I wait for it to turn green.  Noooooo!  One is decked in the regalia of the Yogis, our local rivals.   Now it's all high stakes drama.  Can't be beaten by a Yogi.  Come back Yogi man.  Into the finishing area, the crowd is cheering and I go all out into a sprint (in my head at least), nudge in front and hang on.  Just.  Probably looked like a madman.  Not that I'm competitive or anything.

Official time 4:32:16, but I make it 4:38:04 which includes the neutralised section at the start.  9 mins quicker than last year.  Going to be really wobbly tomorrow.

If you would like to sponsor me, please go to:

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/StephenDilley

If you want to know more about what St Lukes and Jeremiahs Journey are doing in summer, please go to:

https://www.stlukes-hospice.org.uk/

http://www.jeremiahsjourney.org.uk/