HOW WAS I T FOR YOU?
It’s the regular 220 Triathlon award-winning race famed for its atmosphere and camaraderie. But would the British summertime dampen the Outlaw’s 10th birthday celebrations? Eugene Grant finds out…
Pop! What the?! I pick myself up off the tarmac surprised and sore in equal measure. It’s a broken spoke, no biggie. I release the brake calipers and try to set off. But my rear wheel is going nowhere and I’m left with the realisation that after months of training, my maiden iron-distance event is over after two hours.
It was about 8am on a slightly breezy, overcast Sunday morning in July 2010 and this was the first-ever Outlaw Triathlon. The race was the brainchild of triathlon stalwart Iain Hamilton of OSB, who decided that the hotbed of triathlon enthusiasm that is the Midlands required an iron-distance race. It was to be held in Nottinghamshire, the old stomping ground of local legend Robin Hood. With the swim located in the lake at Holme Pierrepont, it was baptised The Outlaw.
It was another two hours before the pick-your-own strawberry farm opened opposite, so I just waited at the side of the road. The constant stream of cyclists fizzing past made me realise just how much I wanted to be a part of it again. A marshall had called mechanical assistance for me. The bike mechanic took a look at the wheel. “I’ll be back…”
One of the most incredible aspects of the Outlaw is the support given by all those involved. From Donna Thompson, the referee who has officiated at every Outlaw, to the hundreds of volunteers who work tirelessly to make the event an experience, rather than just another race. None more so than the generous soul who’d ridden to the feed station that Sunday to hand out bananas. Little did he realise, but he’d be lending his rear wheel to the bike mechanic and ultimately saving me from suicide by strawberries.
The sense of euphoria to be back in the race again was incredible. The route took me along quiet country lanes, fields, hedgerows and pretty villages. Fortunately the feed stations were perfectly stocked as my supply of snacks had been seriously diminished by an hour of melancholy comfort grazing. The relief at dismounting the bike in T2 was tremendous.
The marathon is in the company of 800 fellow Outlaws (in the making) and the Multitudinous Merry Men (and women) that line the flat run course up to Nottingham Forest’s football ground adjacent to the river Trent, before returning to the welcome sight of the finish line next to the lakeside grandstand.
Little did I realise at the time, but this intoxicating mix of relief and elation of being accompanied by my three children – Oliver, Elsbeth and Henry – as I ran down the finishing chute to the sound of ‘You are an Outlaw’ reverberating across the National Water Sports Centre’s amphitheatre was the beginning of something rather special.
EVER-PRESENT OUTLAWS
Fast forward 10 years and, having completed all the previous nine Outlaws, I’m back for the 10th birthday party. There are five other equally-unhinged individuals – Chris Dunn, Gary Goacher, David Manning-Ohren, Nigel Swepson and Graham Yare – who have collected all previous Outlaw finisher’s medals. They’ll bear witness to how the event has grown to a point where the 1,200 slots always sell out. They’ll probably remark about how the finisher’s medals are getting bigger while the T-shirts seem to be getting tighter... and the amazing choice on the run feed stations these days. There might even be birthday cake in 2019…
Cut to July 2019 and we’re experiencing 35°C temps three days before the race. In anticipation of the event, I get a haircut and shave my legs on the patio much to the horror of my infinitely better half, Joanne. There’s the prospect of thunderstorms looming and I just hope the weather isn’t going to spoil the party. The heatwave the day before the race is well and truly over, replaced by persistent rain and the temperature plummeting back down to 14°C.
Registration for the Outlaw is super slick. I manage to get my transition bags hung and bike racked before going for the Saturday’s swim practice with about a dozen others who are able to enjoy waters of 20°C. I always find that