Roth Photos

As promised, a selection of photos from Roth. Enjoy.

Saucony Kinvaras

I haven't done a product review in a while so when I decided to try out Saucony's new and innovative Kinvara, I thought I'd throw my 2c into the hat. Advertised as a minimalist shoe (something I'm not too sure about as it seems to be packed full of technology) what it does do is allow the wearer to run in a more natural way. By natural I mean as one would run if they were running barefoot.

A lot has been made of barefoot running recently, I've read a bit on the topic and having suffered numerous injuries it interested me. The ethos is, put very simply, that heavily cushioned shoes make us run in a way we would not if we ran barefoot, this places emphasis on the wrong muscles, puts forces in the wrong places etc and causes injuries.

The theory made sense, after all, weren't marathons from the turn of the century until the 1940s run in plimsoles and Dunlop Green Flash? Hardly the most cushioned of shoes. My only problem was that many of the shoes available were designed to promote a forefoot/midfoot strike (Newtons being the most well know). I felt this defeated the purpose somewhat. I didn't want a shoe that promoted anything, I wanted a shoe that allowed my feet and legs to do what they wanted.

I first saw the Kinvara at Roth and had a quick look but noting the Challenge Roth 2010 branding on the side I was a little put off. I'm not a man for living in the past and didn't want a shoe that would remind me of a past race when my focus was on future races. When I returned the UK I decided to order a pair (without branding) and give them a go. My biggest catalyst for making the decision was that after the disintegration of my training shoes in France I decided I may as well switch to racing flats with Roth so close. I found I was so much quicker in flats and that I finished my long runs feeling much less stress on the legs. Obviously the weight of the shoe makes a difference but 200g is not THAT much. Ultimately, after some treadmill comparisons, I noted that I my strike in the flats was completely different, much more midfoot, under the knee instead of over-striding, and my turnover was 2-4 strikes/minute faster. All good news. The Kinvara seemed to offer this but with the added bonus of a little bit of cushioning. My Saucony A3 flats are great but the ride is a little harsh for everyday use.

My first impressions were positive, the fit was feather light and very comfy, the thin mesh uppers great in warmer weather, although probably not suitable during winter if get a repeat of 2009-10. My first run was a tempo brick of about 8 miles and I loved the feel. They gently coerced me onto my midfoot, encouraging a strike just under my knee and giving me a higher turnover. I felt they helped me recruit the back of the leg much more than other shoes and I felt the energy of each stride was carried over into the next rather than being absorbed by the road, or my knees. There was a greater stress on my hamstrings (possibly a result of the hard ride) but sitting here 14 hours later I'm suffering no DOMS or undue tightness. There were points where I had to focus more than I normal, especially when I fatigued in the last 10 minutes or so, but this is not surprising given the slight change in running style.

I have a tough track session tomorrow so we'll see how they fair with some really speed, well, speedy for an Ironman anyway.

Roth Race Report

Check out the more traditional Roth Race Report here. Pictures up soon, promise.

Roth: The introspective race report

I've thought alot about my performance yesterday. Thanks to all the people who've sent congratulations but, despite a huge PB and a pretty nice marathon time, I ultimately failed in what I came here to do. I hold myself to very high standards and I didn't (quite) meet them yesterday.

My execution was the best I felt it could have been given the fitness I brought to race. I raced my heart out and left everything on the course as I have always been told to do by everyone who has guided me in this sport. My failure is rooted in a lack of discipline which crept into my life when I had nothing to do but train. With so much time I began training later in the day, not optimaising recovery time, this probably played a small part in the virus I picked up costing me three weeks during my peak phase. I began to eat more than I should convincing myself I could lose the weight. I left it to late and couldn't. I arrived at Roth at least 5lbs more than I should have been and this is unacceptable. It undoubtably cost me 5 minutes on the bike and run combined.

I write this because these are the things I MUST change. I have no problem with failing, I used to think it was a bad thing to fail and would do anything in my power to avoid it but I like to think since I left university I learnt failure is fine as long as three things are true:

1. You fail knowing you have given it your all (Check);
2. You fail in the pursuit of a lofty target (Check);
2. You work out where the mistakes were made and endeavour never to repeat those same errors. (We'll see)

Despite this I will take a moment (and it will only be a moment) to put what I have done in perspective. In only my third year in the sport and fourth Ironman I have gone 9:11 as well as posting a huge PB. Even more pleasing was that I finished top British male OA (Chrissie beat me by a mile as well as most of the men's PRO field, unreal!) and within the top 50 overall in what is one of the most competative Iron distance races in Europe and probably the world outside of Kona.

The rest of my season will be a little different to what I originally planned, I simply cannot afford to go to the USA to race and Kona will have to be put on ice for another year or two. Instead I will return to the Little Woody to round out the 2010 season.

2011 will again feature some significant lifestyle changes both in sport and in the outher facets of my life. I will be returning to work as, to be perfectly frank, I am never going to make a living from this sport and I feel I can race just as well whilst working. Moreover, I will be able to afford to race instead of suffering from the constant nagging thought that I'm surviving on borrowed cash. I hope to obtain my PRO card as I originally planned and race in that category but ultimately that is down to the discretion of the BTA. Finally I will be taking a step down in distance and racing Olympic and middle distance triathlon next year. In the long term I hope this will enable me to return to long distance in 2012 with the ability to aim for some top 10 placings. But we'll have to wait and see.

Apologies for a somewhat introspective blog but I like to get things and thought down as soon as possible after a race. A more traditional race report will follow, hopefully with some lovely pictures of me in lycra!

I can, I will, I must.

The title for this blog has been ungracefully stolen from another of my coach's athletes, if you are that athlete sorry and thank you, as this is my race day mantra. The romantic ideal of athletic struggle is often glamourised by adverts and films adding music and showing the victor post race, things are put into slow motion o black and white and it is as if the world's best are able to summon super human strength and overcome pain and win with seeming ease.

I cannot speak for all athletes but I suspect this is not the case. Success, however you define it, is got through dogged determination and, quite simply, being willing to suffer. Lance once said something of similar effect about people who thought he "flew" up the cols and mountains of the tour, he didn't "fly" he suffered in pain up every one, he was just able to go faster while suffering than his competitors.

I ain't Lance, not even close, and tomorrow I'm not really racing anyone except the clock. When the voice in my head says, stop, for the love of God stop, your feet are bleeding, your fast approaching incontinece and your legs cannot support your weight, I will have to shout out my mantra. I will have to shout damn loud to be heard through the flood of common sense telling me pain isn't weakness but leaving the body but your body telling you to stop, your hurting it you moron. I will have to shout it loud to drown out the voice telling me it isn't worth it, or I've done enough. I'd like to think as I sit here I will develop a massive second wind and it will feel effortless, that I will arrive at some kind of sporting nirvana where pain is but a distant memory and sub 7:00 mile splits flow like honey, but I know on race day that isn't how things work. It will only hurt more and then more as I get progressively further on in the race, I must convince myself that suffering is worthwhile. Easier said than done.

For me to able to say I raced hard and well only two outcomes are acceptable:

1. I collapse into the canal and wake up on a drip in hospital,
2. The clock reads 8:XX:XX when I cross the line.

Sub9orbust!

On Sunburn, or how I'll never learn

I am so hot right now

As a pasty, pale skinned man from the North of the British Isles you would think I would have learned that it isn't safe for me to step outside of the shade when the mercury tops 17c, and if I do decide to risk it I ought to be sporting a visible layer of factor 50 or a HASMAT suit... or both. Yet somehow I still haven't learned, or, more accurately, there is one day every year where I dismiss the evidence, assume I've "acclimatised" (HA!) and decide to forgo sunscreen. In fact, over the last six years I can distinctly remember the time each summer where this has happened:

2004 - I shaved my head for a post exam trip to Gozo, within 12 hours of landing it looked like a traffic light on stop.

2005 - I decided that the sun in Whitby can't be THAT strong and managed to burn my entire right hand side in my own personal, and painful, homage to Dracula.

2006 - June, discover cycling and Oakleys.
July, discover panda eyes and classic farmer's tan line

2007 - I ride my first century ride. I was slow, it was hilly and by the time I finished my upper arm looked like a paint sample contrasting alabaster white and crimson red.

2008 - My first run in with triathlon tan lines. Possibly the only tan lines worse than cycling ones. The singed muffin top and crispy wings combo is a really good look.

2009 - It turns out even cloud cover doesn't stop me burning in Hawaii. Only crispy wings this time reducing the muppet factor by about 3.


I had a lot of time on my hands hence having to rest the camera on the stairs and get the timer correct, this was the best of about six attempts.

2010 - I've been in France for four weeks and haven't burnt, so I must be OK, right? WRONG! As the top above adequately demonstrates.

Only this time round I have discovered (only took the better part of a decade) Aloe Vera fresh from the plant. Great for burns it meant I was actually able to sleep the night after cooking myself, a pleasant change to normal.


The inside of the plant is soothing, the pointy outside, is not.

The only question that remains is where will I be burning in 2011? Stay tuned to find out.