HOW WAS I T FOR YOU?
Ocean Lava has quietly established itself as one of the world’s biggest triathlon series, specialising in races off the beaten tri track. Heading to their Montenegro event was Nicola Kaye…
The gun sounds and 500 triathletes charge full-throttle into the Bay of Kotor. I’d like to tell you that I’m leading that charge, but I know my place at the start of a triathlon and it’s definitely not at the front of a huge mass swim pack. I fight my way to the first buoy, through feet grabs, flailing arms to the head, mouthfuls of water and brain freeze. Rounding the buoy, I struggle to catch sight of the second one, some 350m in the distance. My hands and feet slowly lose sensation. This is Ocean Lava Montenegro and there’s a good reason the swim has been shortened to 1km. Put simply, the water is anything but balmy...
The first Ocean Lava Triathlon was staged in Lanzarote in 2010, a long-cherished dream of Kenneth Gasque, the first Dane to race at the Ironman Worlds in Kona, Hawaii, in 1985. He went on to complete the race on a further three occasions and it’s through Gasque’s participation at the Worlds that Ironman Lanzarote, now revered as one of the world’s toughest longdistance triathlons, came into being. Gasque has led the charge in the growth of tri on Lanza and has directed the IM there since 1992.
The success of the Ocean Lava Triathlon in Lanzarote led Gasque to launch the Ocean Lava Planet Series. His idea was to organise triathlon events in small but captivating places all over the world [see our top five on p112]. Gasque quickly found event organisers who could offer unique and beautiful courses to fit the bill, without the huge price tag often associated with M-Dot events.
Ocean Lava Montenegro is a natural fit for the series, with the 2019 event the fourth edition of the race. It’s grown rapidly from just 36 individual finishers in 2016 to a sellout 436 finishers in 2019 (a further 69 people took part in relays). Having witnessed it myself firsthand, the growth of the event is due in no small part to the tireless energy, enthusiasm and passion of race director, Igor Majer, an accomplished triathlete in his own right, having become the first Montenegrin Ultraman in 2018.
SERPIES AT THE START
As someone who’s active on the tri scene, I’m surprised that I’d heard nothing of the race previously. But, following a big thumbs up from a friend and after some research on the race and the location, it isn’t long before my name is gracing the start list for 2019. I then set about gently coercing my Serpentine triathlon club buddies. Word spreads through the club and day-by-day, month-by-month, the start list grows with Serpentine entrants. People come out of so-called triathlon ‘retirement’, those who’d only ever completed sprint-distance triathlons are throwing caution to the wind and signing up to their first middle-distance event; those that didn’t own a bike or lacked talent in the water are persuading others to join them in forming relay teams. By the time race day rolls around, a group of 40 intrepid Serpies are toeing the start line of Ocean Lava Montenegro in May.
SLIPPER TIME
The mass swim start is becoming less common in racing and I’ve mixed feelings about the race organiser’s choice here. It probably made sense when the race was a great deal smaller, but as it’s grown over the years and I wonder if this’ll be the last mass start we’ll see in Montenegro. The competitive side of me rather likes it, however, as it’s usually only the pros who get to experience the true race format while us age-groupers contend with a rolling wave start. At least I don’t have to worry about gingerly finding my way across the pebbled beach to the water’s edge; it’s not every triathlon that you’re provided with a pair of slippers to wear to the start, but it’s a genius touch!
With much relief, the end of the swim is soon in sight. I hurry out of the water, eager to make up for my less-than-enviable swimming ability. Transitions are the fourth discipline, and, while I still well remember my post-swim sit-down in T1 after that fateful first triathlon back in 2010, my transition skills have improved somewhat since then. I gain 10 places as I head out
on the bike course, eager to chase down the two Serpentine men leaving just ahead of me.
BYRON APPROVED
Heading into the event, my expectations are fairly modest having completed a 312km Mallorca sportive only two weeks earlier. Yet, having huffed and puffed my way up the first climb out of transition, I settle into my TT position and, feeling pretty good, push ahead on the course that I’d briefly recce’d in an effort to make up some ground on those speedy swimmers.
The 90km bike course is stunning and it’s easy to see why Lord Byron wrote so poetically about the country, when he said of Montenegro, “at the moment of the creation of our planet, the most beautiful merging of land and sea occurred at the Montenegrin seaside... when the pearls of nature were sworn, an abundance of them were strewn all over this area.” Even with my head down and my focus firmly on the race, it’s hard to disregard the beautiful landscape surrounding me on all sides. It’s also undoubtedly a fast bike course, well suited to TT bikes, but a few short climbs are thrown in to keep it honest. Importantly, it’s also run on closed roads, which was something of a relief after experiencing our fair share of erratic local drivers on our run in from Dubrovnik, Croatia, to Montenegro a couple of days earlier.
I wish I could say it was all plain sailing once out onto the bike course but, even after a number of years in the sport, I’ve yet to display bulletproof prep. My power meter has decided to pack it in just before the event so, having trained to power, I’m left to cycle entirely on feel. It’s not always a bad thing but I’m slightly concerned about overcooking it and meeting a horrible fate on the run as a result.
Added to this, I come close to having a nutrition disaster; leaving T1 I become immediately aware that my Bento box – carrying all of my vital ‘fuel’ – is precariously hanging over the side of my top tube, clinging on by one very loose screw. In fear of losing everything, there’s nothing for it but to remove the entire top tube bag and store it... down my tri top! I look quite the sight, particularly at feeding time, as I struggle to undo both my tri top and the Bento box, and remove said nutrition, all while trying to maintain as much power as possible.
ONE OUT OF TWO
Disaster averted, and food consumed, I near the end of the bike course in 2:36hrs apprehensive, as always, about the half marathon to follow. Another quick transition, a quick bathroom break and I head
“My power meter’s packed in, and having trained for power I’m concerned about overcooking it and meeting a horrible fate on the run”
out onto the run course. We’ve come to Montenegro in search of beautiful landscapes and blue skies. One out of two ain’t bad, right?! Thankfully, other than a couple of quick downpours on the bike, the forecasted drenching has yet to materialise and the slightly overcast day is certainly the friend of most of the Serpentine party, better suited to cooler climes.
The first km is over in record time. In true style, I’ve gone out far too quickly and know immediately that I need to rein things in if I’m to survive the run course in one piece. Settling in to a more sustainable pace, I find my rhythm and am surprised how comfortable I feel as I began to tick off the kms.
TALK ABOUT THE PASSION
The great thing about it being a true race – with one mass start rather than waves – is that I was able to clearly see how I was positioned on the run, with it being two laps of an out-and-back course. I establish that I’m lying in fifth overall and, boosted by that knowledge, I dig deeper to ensure that my pace doesn’t drop off. The 21.1km run, like the bike course, follows the bay and moving at a more pedestrian pace that allows me to take in the wonderful scenery.
The support on the run is superb, with local residents of all ages manning the aid stations brilliantly. Seeing so many club buddies is another huge mental boost and, even when the going gets tough towards the end, it’s hard not to smile or shout words of encouragement as we pass each other.
Fifteen kilometres, 16km, 17km… I’m nearing the end, but there’s still what feels like a huge barrier separating me from that finish line. Another lady passes me, but I’m keen to let it be the last. I dig deeper and glance at my watch to ensure my pace doesn’t drop. I’m hurting now, but refuse to let any negative thoughts take over. Drawing on some dark moments of that 312km bike ride just two weeks earlier helps me to stay strong. If I can get through 12hrs on a bike, I can certainly hold on for another 4km of a run.
Finally, I pass the 20km mark and I’m back into the town and heading towards the finish. A quick glance over my shoulder and I see a couple of guys making up ground on me. There’s no way I’m going to let them steal my finish so I sprint for the line, elated to cross the line sixth female overall and second in my age-group in 4:42:40. Gasque and Majer are there to greet me with my medal – and indeed each and every athlete that crosses the finish line – making it apparent how much this event means to both of them.
And, for me, it’s been a very memorable race and I’m chuffed to come away with a result that I’m proud of. But what really makes the event special, is sharing the experience with so club mates, many of whom were taking part in a middle-distance race for the first time. The experience certainly epitomises the race’s own motto: “It’s not about winning or losing, it’s about passion!”