RETRO RACING
To celebrate 220’ s 30th birthday, we raced the Windsor Triathlon using kit from 1989 – and the hottest tech of 2019 – to compare the tri racing experiences. Cue performance mouthwash, Mars Bars and one dodgy ‘tache…
220’ s Matt Baird takes on the Windsor Triathlon… in 80s kit! Complete with ’tache, Softride & soggy sandwiches
Tiananmen Square. The Berlin Wall. The Hacienda and the Stone Roses debut album. Del Boy falling through the bar. Politically and culturally, 1989 was a landmark year in contemporary history. And it was also a seminal 12 months in the sport of triathlon.
The year saw the formation of the International Triathlon Union (ITU), the debut ITU World Champs landing in France, and the greatest Ironman race in the sport’s history – the Iron War between Dave Scott and Mark Allen – taking place in Kona, Hawaii. It was also the year a 32-page magazine by the name of Two Twenty was created by a team of tri enthusiasts in Swindon that soon played a fundamental role in the development of triathlon in the UK.
“The story is that myself, Kevin Ferris and Trevor Gunning from the Total Fitness triathlon club
qualified for Ironman Hawaii in 1988,” says founding 220 member John Lillie to us today. “We all finished the race, but when the race report was published in the American Triathlete magazine there wasn’t a word about the British contingent, but they did manage to print the Australian finishing times!
“I bought the necessary Apple desktop computer and software and (blindly) started publishing,” adds Lillie. “I employed a friend, Duncan Robb, to be the editor for the first few issues. After much discussion about the name of the magazine – I didn’t want anything obvious that included Triathlon or British or News – he came up with 220 (the theoretical maximum heart rate) and we were away. Issue one was sent out free to the 1,800 British Triathlon Association members. And the response? It must have been favourable as we carried on.”
Within a year the 220 team had organised key duathlons and triathlons in the UK and France, and also Britain’s first event – the 220 Marathon Triathlon – with the exact Ironman distances of a 3.8km swim, 180km bike and 42.2km run at the Cotswold Water Park. The entry fee was £2:20 and 220 athletes entered.
British stars of the sport, from Sarah Springman to Glenn Cook, Simon Lessing and Spencer Smith, were soon establishing themselves on the international race circuit, and the age-group scene was growing.
“220 was how aspiring triathletes got their monthly fix of facts and stories about the fledgling sport,” says longterm 220 contributor, Andy Blow. “In the pre-internet days, it was simply our window into the triathlon world.”
Within this productive period, the Windsor Triathlon would make its debut in 1990 thanks to race organiser John Lunt. Windsor soon became a permanent fixture on the UK tri scene, winning British Triathlon’s Event of the Year a record number of times and witnessing classic elite showdowns, controversies (the elite field swimming the wrong way in 2003, horsegate of 2018) and countless age-grouper memories along the Barry Avenue finish line.
It’s also the place of my Olympicdistance PB, a 3:00:09 in 2011, and I’ve come back a more experienced and rounded (or just round?) triathlete to beat that in 2019. The catch is that I’ll be using kit and nutrition from the late 1980s, with a Softride-equipped Dave Lloyd bike (see p28), some of the earliest tri kit, and plenty of confectionary for fuelling.
Facing me in this back-to-thefuture challenge is 220’ s shortcourse specialist, Jack Sexty, who will be aiming to go sub-2:10hr on
the latest innovations in tri. He’s splashed the cash (£12,537 to be exact) on his kit list, including the Cervélo P3X, a £1,250 wetsuit and some performance mouthwash. So will we hit our PBs or crawl up Castle Hill? What’s been gained (and lost) as triathlon has grown into a televised, multi-million pound sport? Let’s take to the Thames to find out…
SUNDAY DIY
Teleporting back to 1989 so far hasn’t been too much of a stretch for this writer, and I spend the day before the race annoying my big sister, eating in a Harvester and listening to The Cure’s Disintegration (okay, Erasure) on a Walkman. Race registration is far from techy, and still involves ticking names off paper lists and collecting as many safety pins as possible (although entering the race didn’t involve cheques in the post or phoning up as in the early days). Yet picking up a timing chip is a concession to a more modern age, with the first ChampionChip box systems (see image right)
arriving in 1993 and internet split breakdowns coming later.
Instant porridge, coffee and jam on toast are consumed by both 1989 and 2019 athletes on race morning, and we stroll to transition together, the last time we’ll be at the same pace until the afternoon. After a quick swig of orange squash and a mouthful of Mars Bar, I’m enjoying the retro DIY experience, especially as I then have to construct my own race belt using a stapler, a plastic wallet and a £2 strip of elasticated ribbon from the local haberdashery. That creativity is lost in my 2019 racing, with every quick fix just a mouse click away and through the letterbox the next day.
Yet upon entering the deep-water start at 7:40am, the warm nostalgic glow instantly disappears. The 5mm Alleda wetsuit (kindly – or cruelly – lent to me by Mark Kleanthous, a man who has racked up 400+ triathlon finishes since the 1980s, see p23) lacks arms or a supple fit and smells like my mum’s garage.
The cold 15°C water is bracing and breathtaking, yet thankfully the horn soon goes and I can start moving. Jack is instantly a neoprene spec on the horizon in his Deboer Floh wetsuit and exits the Thames in 20:19mins, the seventh fastest 1.5km swim all weekend.
“Deboer’s super-expensive Floh wetsuit felt like what I’d expect a super high-end wetsuit to feel,” says Jack, “with little arm restriction and enough warmth to handle the chilly Thames. My Suunto 5 watch required a press of a button to switch from swim to transition, yet the button-pressing still feels like a hindrance for an Olympicdistance race where every second counts. I top up my fuel by spraying the peculiar Unit Nutrition carb ‘rinse’ as used by Britain’s top Ironman David McNamee. With an early start I found this preferable to downing calories, giving a small energy boost without risking indigestion.”
12 ROUNDS WITH TYSON
I follow Jack 20mins later (4mins down on my 2011 time) all too aware of the great leaps in wetsuit tech and neoprene construction since the first tri wetsuits from Alleda, Aquaman and Quintana Roo of the mid-1980s. While belatedly embracing the freedom offered by the sleeveless design, I’m more than ready
“The warm nostalgic glow instantly disappears as I enter Windsor’s bracing and breathtaking waters”
to exit the Thames’ chilly embrace and am thankful this isn’t a longer race. The Swedish-style goggles (with nose bridge replaced by string) haven’t leaked but the minimal gaskets have left my eyes searing in pain, and my face feels like I’ve done 12 rounds with the Mike Tyson of 1989. I’ve also aged 20 years.
I make it to T1 dazed and confused, and forget to undo the zips on the Alleda’s legs before taking them down, leading to a prolonged wrestle involving numb fingers and rigid rubber. My fingers aren’t much use on the nonelastic laces of my trainers and my T1 time builds to 13:41mins, a new record for me and the second slowest T1 of Windsor’s 1,286 Olympic starters.
ENTER THE SOFTRIDE
The rain is teeming down so I chuck a sweatshirt on, faff further with the buckle of my bulbous Emmelle helmet and unleash my main weapon, the custom Dave Lloyd bike complete with Softride beam extension and Scott DH tri bars (borrowed from the wall of Huub Design’s Derby headquarters).
The bike has been drawing envious glances (as well as an offer of £1,000) from triathletes of a certain age since it exited my Ford car boot a day before, and has triathlon history running through its steel and carbon veins.
Softride launched in 1989 but allowed their carbon beam bike tech to be fitted on custom bikes such as the steel number seen here from Dave Lloyd. Greg Welch won the 1994 Ironman World Champs aboard a Softride, but the brand faded from view, supplanted by Cervélo, Quintana Roo and more as the leading innovators in tri-bike design. And yet, as Jack’s all-singing Cervélo P3X shows, the influence of Softride is still felt today, with Ceepo, DiMond, Ventum and Reap all utilising beam tech to increase the comfort of their long-distance bikes.
And what a ride the Softride/Lloyd combo still is, oozing comfort and softening most of the vibrations Windsor’s potholed roads throw my way (handily, as my tri-suit’s chamois is the size of a mouse’s eyepatch).
The Scott DH bars add to the historic package and showcase all of triathlon’s
“The Dave Lloyd/Softride bike combo has triathlon history running through its steel and carbon veins”
pioneering spirit, exemplified by Scott Tinley using aerobars to break the Kona course record in 1985 some four years ahead of Greg LeMond using them to win the 1989 Tour de France.
MID-RIDE MARATHON
Where the Dave Lloyd/Softride bike falls down is cornering at speed and on anything resembling a hill, with the hardcore (for these legs anyway) inner 42t chainring and lack of conventional bull horns making ascending difficult, even on Windsor’s gently-undulating 40km course.
The unique shifting takes time to get used to (anticlockwise is up, clockwise down) and I’m just thankful this racing experiment didn’t take place at Helvellyn, Tenby or any of the hilly classics that have since joined Windsor on the vast UK calendar since 1990.
What also becomes apparent is that we’re still getting punctures in 2019, and I pass a stream of cursing triathletes mending tubes and frantically rotating their quick-release skewers.
An upside for me is the Snickers (sorry, Marathon) chocolate bar I polish off mid-ride, but I’m certainly missing the convenience of contemporary energy bars, chews and (caffeine) gels as I scrape a soggy jam sandwich and Jelly Baby combo out of my sweatshirt pocket.
The first Polar heart rate monitors didn’t properly take off until the early 1990s, so I’ve no idea on pacing, heart rate or distance covered and return into Windsor after 1:36:52 on the bike, 10mins down on 2011’s similarly-soggy ride but feeling relatively fresh. Jack, meanwhile, is already enjoying a pint of Erdinger Alkoholfrei at the Windsor finish line.
“The Cervélo P3X flew and, despite its wild looks, felt like a remarkably ‘normal’ bike, with fantastic handling that was useful on the congested, twisty course,” says Jack. “Shimano’s Di2 sequential shifting meant I could shift at the back on the aerobars and drops with the front mech taking care of itself, an advantage compared to my usual mechanical set-up. Garmin’s Vector 3 pedals paired with Wahoo’s Elemnt Bolt meant I could monitor power and cadence, giving a far more insightful target to aim for than average speed.”
Jack’s finish time is 2:14:46, the seventh fastest Olympic-distance time of the weekend and second in the M30-34 age-group. As with most leading agegroupers over 220’ s three decades in business, he still finds room for improvement, however.
“I had a solid day and the top tech at least made me feel like I had to put in a decent showing,” adds Jack. “Huub’s Anemoi skinsuit was more comfortable than any other sleeved suit I’ve used before and the Cloudflash from On Running provided plenty of spring in the patent-pending pods. This was my first
time at Windsor but the very long transitions, being stuck behind a car on the bike and tough run course ensured I didn’t come close to my Olympicdistance personal best.”
THE LIFEBLOOD OF TRI
Windsor’s bike course, with its open roads and lack of support, has often left me cold both literally and figuratively, but the run route is one of the best there is for crowd support, enthusiastic marshals and heritage, with that devious Castle Hill still the highlight. My classic Saucony Azura trainers straight out of issue one of 220 feel rigid compared to my usual Hokas but, whether it’s the post-Softride effect or not wanting to stick around in the revealing and steadily-sagging tri-suit, I maintain a reasonable pace.
The Castelli-branded tri-suit, another loan from Kleanthous’ first days in tri, isn’t actually that primitive and feels comfortable enough on the run (it also means that I didn’t subject Windsor to the sight of me wearing Speedos and a vest, which was the choice of many athletes of ’89). The tiny zipped pockets are impossible to access at speed, but what’s apparent is that the suits of today – starting with the landmark Speedo Aquablade of 1996 and accelerating with the sleeved suits of this decade – really shine in their form-fitting comfort and quick-drying abilities.
Fuelled by just water and Jelly Babies on the run, I clock a 50:39min 10km split (seven minutes faster than my 2011 run time) to finish in 3:34:04 and 1,140th out of 1,286 finishers. I’m greeted by an army of smiling helpers with medals and water, proving how volunteers are still the lifeblood of UK triathlon and the glue that binds all races together.
I follow Coach Kleanthous’ 1989 advice to drink only fluids in the first hour after finishing, have an Epsom Salts bath, and gladly keep consuming both carbs and protein until two hours before bedtime.
STRIKING A BALANCE
Our Windsor experiment has shown that the racing kit of 2019 will deliver a slicker and more comfortable racing experience. I finish the much hillier and tougher Croyde Ocean Triathlon in North Devon a month later in a not-dissimilar time to Windsor on my modern kit of choice, suggesting – along with my 34min Windsor deficit – that today’s kit really is swifter than the output of 1989.
And yet, for me, my Windsor race has proven that for many athletes it’s the practice, practice, practice (yes, the boring stuff) that’ll really enhance any PB dreams, whether that’s cold-water acclimatisation, transition mock-ups or preparing the body for extended periods in the aerobar tuck pre-race on the (Zwift-equipped) smart trainer.
Many of the training fundamentals (and even finish times, with Kona athletes only now regularly breaking course records) haven’t changed hugely, with a varying of intensities, technique refinement and dedication as key today as they were in that famous season of 1989.
“The training tools available in 2019 give you a great guide to what’s possible and when you’ve possibly overstepped the mark,” says the Windsor Tri race legend, ITU world champion and frequent 220 cover star Spencer Smith (see left). “Just don’t be a slave to tools, still use the gift of knowing and feeling what’s going on with your training and body, and strike a balance between the two – to me that was always the best way.”
The rainy morning in Windsor has made me hugely appreciative of triathlon’s innovators, from the Scott DH bars to the showcase tech on display in Jack’s top-10 performance via Snugg custom wetsuits, Oakley M Frame eyewear and the countless editions of the Garmin Forerunner. And it’s also made me even prouder to be a triathlete.
Yes, we’re slack at following that strength and conditioning routine. Okay, we shouldn’t leave it until race week before having our bike serviced. And maybe that polka-dot tri-suit is a little jarring with those lime green compression socks. But that’s who we are and what makes triathlon the offbeat, welcoming and superhuman sport that it is. Here’s to another 30 years of doing things differently.
“I’m greeted by an army of smiling helpers, proving how volunteers are still the lifeblood of UK tri”