HOW WAS I T FOR YOU?
Like many, Ben Parker hasn’t competed in a triathlon for the best part of two years. Eager to get back to it, he returned to action at a new middledistance point-to-point event from Windsor to Brighton. Here’s how he got on…
After what feels like an eternity with my hands on my knees, I reach the final aid station of the day. I’ve been climbing a seemingly never-ending flight of stairs in the South Downs while the midday sun hounds me relentlessly. After the downpours of this morning it should be welcome, but it’s making every step feel that little bit harder.
“It’s all downhill to the finish from here and the next competitor is 15 minutes behind you,” the steward tells me. It’s information that seems too good to be true given my current state of delirium, but it’s no lie. Somehow, I’ve managed to establish quite the lead, but it’s not over until it’s over.
I’m Ben, an enthusiastic agegroup triathlete, running coach and co-founder of an online running coaching business called The Run Buddy (www.therunbuddy.co.uk). I first got into the sport of triathlon in 2018 when I decided to challenge myself with a debut Ironman for charity. At the time I was just 22 and had spent the past six years lifting weights to be as big and strong as possible. Weighing 97kg and being just shy of six foot, I certainly didn’t look like a typical Ironman on the start line.
I thought this was going to be a one-off challenge before getting back to the heavy weights, but I found such a love of training in the outdoors that my life has changed ever since. I raced my second Ironman in 2019 and started to really ramp up my passion for the sport as I looked toward the goal of earning a place at Kona in 2020. Covid-19 put paid to that so, after a two-year wait without a triathlon of any form, I was really excited to hear about the Castle to Coast endurance tri event.
It sounded like the perfect way to get back to the sport that I’d fallen in love with. A point-to-point event from Windsor to Brighton covering 132km. The organisers really focus on it being an inclusive sportif event rather than a race. As a result, I managed to convince my 57-yearold dad to sign up for his first tri in five years and his first time going beyond the sprint distance. I also persuaded my younger sister Izzy, 19, to sign up to her debut tri [see p90 for how she got on]. Talk about jumping in at the deep end...
T2? 107KM SOUTH
It’s 5am and my alarm has just gone off. Feeling tired, but quietly excited, I have my usual pre-event breakfast of choice – chocolate Weetabix Minis and a big bucket of coffee. As we start loading up the car it begins to pour with rain and my heart sinks knowing cycling in the wet is never fun. The rain continues as we drive from London to Windsor, going over all the logistics that both my dad and sister Izzy need to know for their debut triathlon. It’s a great distraction from letting myself build up any pre-event nerves.
By the time we check in the bikes and make the two (yes, two) preevent trips to the loo it’s time to dash to the starting area and join the line for the rolling start. With everything ready, my bike computer and watch loaded with respective routes, I’m ready to jump in the water and get going. Interestingly, unlike most triathlons, with this being a point-to-point format, my kit for T2 is loaded onto a van to be driven the 107km south! Hopefully I’ll be reunited with my running shoes in a few hours.
Rain lashing down, I jump into the water anticipating a cold shock based on all my swim training in the Thames. Instead, it’s positively hot and I almost immediately regret wearing my wetsuit, but off I go. Thanks to the rolling start, there’s a nice stream of kicking feet for me to follow and hunt down. After the 1.9km swim I clamber out of the water and make my way to the
transition zone. I think I entered the water in 50th and probably overtook 20 to 30 people in the water, but it’s always hard to know with the splashing and foggy goggles.
SPLENDID ISOLATION
From here, it’s 107km of riding on open roads to make it to the start of the run. Luckily, the rain stops by the time I start riding south and I quickly settle into my own rhythm. Although everyone is trying to go quickly, the atmosphere is great and every rider I pass exchanges friendly words with me, mainly about all the hyperbikes that everyone out front is riding. After around 30km I find myself going past riders in both GB and Spanish tri-suits in quick succession. I’m not going to lie, I feel very out of place.
Then, nothing. I keep pushing the pedals for the following two hours without seeing another soul, enjoying lovely descents through country lanes, some rolling hills and even a horse-drawn carriage. I assume everyone’s nicely drawn out with a speedy pack way ahead out
“The focus is on the event being an inclusive sportif rather than a race...”
of my reach. Running low on fluids, I roll into an aid station around the 80k mark. I ask how many riders are ahead of me and to my absolute disbelief am told I’m the first rider! I immediately stop faffing around and crack on.
Arriving first into T2 I’m greeted by the friendly Fullsteam event team, where I swiftly gear up for the trail half marathon and head out. The word ‘trail’ doesn’t quite do this one justice, though. Running is my strongest leg, so I came into T2 with a lot of confidence and didn’t think much of a 23km jog to the coast. I ran a 50km barefoot ultra-marathon just a fortnight ago with little issue, so how hard could this be? As it turns out, bloody hard.
The first 6km of the run are continuously uphill and a good portion of that is pretty much unrunnable, even with steps built into the landscape. Seeing a cyclist pushing an e-bike up the hill makes me feel better about my laboured walking, but only a little bit. The view from the top of the escarpment is stunning. I can see for miles in every direction and, as I’m now following the ridge for a while, the scenery is here to stay. The gradient’s a little more manageable too, which is a bonus.
Conveniently, being able to see the route behind means I’m slowly becoming more and more confident that no one’s catching me. As I pass the 15km mark on the run, I fall into a false sense of security that it’ll be be plain sailing towards the finish. I’m wrong, of course, and start to feel a little foolish. The final few hundred metres of elevation lie ahead and can only be described as a never-ending flight of stairs. The miserable weather of this morning is now a distant memory, with the English summer finally turning up to bear down on my back. It’s hot, sweaty work, but at least it’s not raining, I keep telling myself. Eventually, I top out and the 500m of elevation gain on the run leg is behind me. It’s good news, and there’s more to come.
With weary legs from the climb, I arrive at the final aid station, where I’m told that I have a 15-minute lead over the next runner. Having the time to take a sip of water and enjoy the view, I do exactly that, and then get stuck into the final 30 minutes downhill to the home stretch along the seafront. I’ve spent two years waiting to take on a
triathlon again, and it was certainly worth the wait. I cross the finish line with a time of 5:44:20, a full 20 minutes ahead of the second-place finisher, much to my surprise.
FROM BACK TO FRONT
Since finishing, lots of my friends and family have asked me what it felt like to win my first event, but I’ve never thought about or aimed to win anything in the world of triathlon. I started out as a very average school kid who loved sweets and computer games and would finish at the back in cross country. I’ve been on a journey to get a little bit better in lots of different avenues of fitness for 10 years now. I built up to gradually look better and better over the first six, and I then spent the last four gradually trying to be able to run and cycle further and faster, which brings us up to where I am today.
I love seeing progress and beating the old me is all that matters. Doing that for long enough has allowed me to finish ahead of everyone else that took part in the Castle to Coast. But nothing changes. I’m happy when striving for progress in all areas of my life. This month I want to become better than last month at my running, my triathlon, my relationships, my coaching and at business. Winning is just an accidental by-product, but it definitely feels good!
“I ran an ultra-marathon a fortnight ago, so just how hard could a 23km jog to the coast be? As it turns out, bloody hard”