The overpriced brick session.

Trialling my new Huub wetsuit. Waste of time that was!

I was in two minds whether to even bother writing about this one.

I mean, it was a complete farce, even though there was some level of achievement involved.

I had booked Weymouth Ironman 70.3 (70 miles across 3 different disciplines – a half Ironman distance triathlon) in case, for any reason, I got sick or couldn’t do Tours in France.

It was because of this entry that I tried to get familiar with the Weymouth 90km long bike course, which had a punchy hill about 70% of the way through.

I never made it. I hit mud on the side of the road at about 40km, in December 2024 and crashed. It resulted in a broken rib, torn rotator cuff and frozen shoulder.

I had spent the summer, post MRI scan, trying to line up surgery to have it fixed. The NHS couldn’t be relied upon not to cancel last minute (costing me weeks of salary as I’d have to take time off working at sea and you can’t just take a day here or there – it is at least 2 weeks as per our crew changes, which equated to a month’s salary). The NHS would never compensate me for lost earnings so that was off the table.

I tried to go private in a local hospital and got as far as pre-op assessment when I was informed by email that the orthopaedic surgeon had “left the business with immediate effect”. I don’t know what he did but he left me and many others fairly and squarely in the lurch.

My hunch to just go abroad seemed to be correct. So, I re-engaged with Operations Abroad Worldwide who arranged surgery and a 3-night stay in Denmark for me.

The service was absolutely superb, cheaper than in the UK and most importantly, I could choose the date so I could limit the financial damage and time off work, missing just one trip if recovery went as planned.

I also wanted to time it around the Weymouth Ironman. I had paid for it after all and my running was improving, despite my swimming still being poor due to a dodgy arm. To compensate, I treated myself to a beautiful new (but very pricey) Huub wetsuit as my other one was now too baggy and causing drag. I needed all the help I could get.

I headed down to Weymouth and two old ambulance work friends came along to offer me support, which is the first time I’d ever had anyone show up at any of my races.

I arrived on site near the seafront to register for the race and spent quite a lot of time wandering round and round looking for the athlete village, where there is normally lots of cool stuff going on. It turned out there was none. Just a miserable marquee, one food stall and a shop full of Ironman merchandise. I’d seen more of an impressive set up at a village fete or even a school sports day. It was very disappointing. Luckily, thanks to the race Facebook page, I managed to find someone to put some battle braids in my hair and I was very grateful to Amy, a complete stranger, for this.

I had a practise swim in the sea. It was lumpy for sure and would slow everyone down, but not unsafe in any way and not undoable.

The swim course buoys were not yet out and the swim entry fencing was still dumped on the floor. I was sure they would fix it the next day.

Saturday came and went, the swim buoys were out, but no way was the course 1900m long. It looked to me like it had been shortened. But there was no notification from Ironman.

The forecast was set to improve on the Sunday of the race with calm seas and no wind until at least 10am, long after the swimmers were out of the water.

I kept an eye on Windy.com, which we use offshore and the forecast was looking good for the swim.

We all went for pizza on Portland and met up with my good friend Charlotte who lives there. It was a jovial evening and I was super excited about the race and happily stuffing my face with pizza when…

The message that shocked everyone.

What fresh hell??!!!

I checked my emails immediately and to my horror, it was true. But the forecast was looking absolutely fine and only the bike and the run might be a bit wet and windy but for gods sake…this is an IRONMAN….if you’re not hard enough…

I was incensed with fury, disappointment and disbelief.

All that time, all that money, all that training, suffering, struggling through an injury, a crash as a direct result of entering this race – and it was now going to be a bullshit bike-run time trial.

No ACDC on the beach, no clapping of thousands of people in unison….

The excuse was the weather but that was clearly utter nonsense.

The Sunday morning alarm went off at 04:55.

As predicted by the WEATHER FORECAST there wasn’t a breath of wind and the sea state was like glass.

Sea state on race morning. Weymouth Bay.

Athletes took to the internet to show their displeasure…

Some people simply collected their bikes and went home. I am many things, but I am not a quitter, so this was never on the cards for me.

I would do this, but I was not happy about it.

My coach gave me sensible ‘nothing you can do about it, so get on with it’ vibes.

Luckily, I had a low number so started within the first few bike waves. We set off only seconds apart and were funnelled into a road that was only half closed. Naturally riders were bunched up and immediately got a wagging finger from a marshal on a motorbike for drafting!

I mean seriously!! Fuck off already!

We set off up the first climb which strung riders out a bit and I settled down, trying to keep a rhythm and chucking gels down my neck so I had enough fuel on board to get the half marathon done afterwards.

The bike went well, no crashes for me and we avoided the worst of the weather. I was pleased for getting up the super steep hill and had kept enough in the bank that it didn’t hurt. I was surprised to see blokes getting off bikes and walking up it.

I rolled into transition after 90km and all my friends and my neighbour who had come to see me missed me completely as the Ironman tracker app was about 10 minutes inaccurate.

As I stepped off the bike, both of my inner thighs cramped just above the knee. Great.

I racked my bike, changed into trainers and a dry running top and set off on the soggy run. Within 2 kilometres, my thighs cramped severely. I necked some gels, grabbed electrolytes at every aid station and eventually it subsided so long as I kept moving after a stop for a good stretch.

The rain was relentless and I swung along in my 5 minutes on/1 minute off strategy which worked really well. Not just for me either, but a lady came alongside me and said she’d been using me as a pacer for ages! Well that never happened before!

It was a two-lap course taking in Weymouth seafront which frankly had never looked so revolting. The crowds were seriously hard core to stand out in that foul weather and I felt awful for my friends who were soaked to the skin waiting for their slow mate to crawl round the course.

I met up with a lady towards the end of the first lap and we joined forces and got into a system, her joining in with my 5 on 1 off. The result was that she got a half marathon personal best – and so did I. I dropped away from her as we approached the finish line so that she could have her moment and frankly, dreadful steamy ‘professional’ photos.

It was my best triathlon running performance to date, so I guess I had achieved something. It was also my 2nd fastest 90km on a bike and considering it was officially a rolling course and not a flat one, that counted as a PB too.

The finishers tent was shit.

We were offered a slice of soggy pizza, a cup-a-soup (WTF???) and half a plastic glass of beer.

For my ~£500 entry fee I was feeling mighty pissed off. Even the medal was small!

I got the feeling that this was a half-arsed event and because 900 entrants were first timers, they didn’t know any different. France and Italy were a world apart from this shit show.

I was given a foil banket (I can tell you as a Paramedic that these are crap) and limped out to meet my friends who were drowned to the core.

I had absolutely no motivation to stay any longer and Lisa and Jo helped me and my kit back to the car which was a good kilometre away.

The first message from my coach, Russel Carter (who had been tracking me all day) was “So how was the brick session?”

He got it – and summed it up in one sentence. There was nothing about the whole experience that made me feel like I’d just done an Ironman – not even half of one!

The Ironman brand has always motivated me and my experiences of races abroad had been superb. But as usual, I had been let down by my own damn country.

Athletes took to the internet to express their anger and disappointment. There were also plenty of annoying people trying to defend the decision. The fact is, Ironman have form for making bad decisions. A bad decision the other way resulted in the deaths (indirectly) of two athletes in Ireland. So, you could understand the caution. But that is no excuse for the inability to read a weather forecast. The call could easily have been made on the morning of the race and we would have just stuffed our wetsuits into bags and lined up with our bikes. Many athletes got up early and swam the course anyway, just to prove a point.

The fact that the swim course had never been set up, tells me this decision was made several days earlier based on a moving forecast and they didn’t make a call until everyone had spent extortionate amounts of money (me included) in the Ironman merch store.

Then there were rumours of pollution in the water but again, these were unfounded and never used as an official reason.

I suspect 900 newbies, many of whom admitted online to having never even swum in the sea (how stupid CAN you get?) and a risky forecast was the real reason for the decision but as it was not part of the cancellation policy, they simply went with an old weather forecast.

The bike start was put back an hour, so any notion that it was to improve conditions on the bike was also BS. Many bikes got caught in foul weather far later in the day than they would have, had they swum first.

In my opinion, the solution for Ironman is simple. To enter an Ironman event with a sea swim, athletes must have completed at least one triathlon with a sea swim previously. This could be a sprint, super sprint, Olympic distance, anything. Ideally without drowning or being rescued. Or even ratification from an approved coach.

Patagonman insist on demonstrable capability before allowing entries, so it is not a new idea.

It would also boost support for smaller triathlon events which are currently struggling for entries. To me this is a win-win and something Ironman should be looking at.

Race over with, I took a week to chill out and had a spin down on the watt bike the next day. I was far less broken than in previous races, so my fitness had clearly sky rocketed.

I enjoyed one final weekend with a friend in my sea kayak and catching up with a long-lost family member, before taking a deep breath and flying into Denmark for my shoulder surgery.

Finally – I was going to get this fixed once and for all.

What will 2026 hold? Hint: Roll on Germany…