Richards Mills Dingle Race Report
I was awake and up before the 7am alarm clock, nerves and excitement, like Christmas morning, at least there was no mass! The view from the window was ominous, the lovely mountain at the back of the house was now shrouded in a mist that made seeing the end of the garden difficult and there was a slight drizzle too, soft day, I think they call it down there. Thanks to my soon to be deleted weather app, I had brought no rain gear or any extra clothing, just sun cream. I had seen racers suffer from minor hypothermia in the world championships in London the previous week and the nerves ramped up a notch. Luckily Hilary had a spare rain jacket which was gladly accepted. And so with porridge and banana consumed and pre race checks carried out several times we headed for transition.
There were no allocated spots for transition but we were early enough and so all the pulsers pitched up beside each other. Final checks were carried out and wetsuits were zipped up for the last time this season. The race briefing was slightly confusing (could be just me) and wasn’t helped by the fact that we couldn’t see the first buoy 500m away in the mist. I was confident though as a poor swimmer that those in front of me would have it figured out by the time I got there.
The start was in the harbour and we had to jump in and swim out to it. The guy behind was a bit to eager and jumped in on top of me giving me a dead leg, first time I’ve been kicked before the start of a race. The cold water helped sort the leg out and we all lined up for the start. Hooter sounded and all nerves forgotten as we headed off into the unknown. There was lots of room so very little hitting and kicking and I soon settled into a rhythm. As we exited the harbour I lifted the head and spotted a red buoy and altered my course towards it. It was at this stage I felt the first electric tingle on my lips. It was quickly followed by several more including quite a severe sting on my chin. I realised that the brown seaweed all around me was actually little jellyfish, hundreds of them. I looked around and everyone else was still swimming so I just put the head down and kept stroking towards the buoy. As I passed the red buoy on my right I wondered why everyone else was passing it well off to the other side and heading towards a yellow buoy I hadn’t seen before. I had some vague recollection of a mention of shipping lanes and markers at the briefing that suddenly started to make sense and so altered course again and headed for the yellow buoy. Several stings later and wondering if I was going to look like elephant man getting out of the water I rounded the outer buoy and turned for home. A quick look revealed a wall of mist with yellow hats disappearing into it. I followed the hats and soon the harbour walls appeared. Relieved to see land again I was soon back in the harbour and heading up the ramp to transition. A loud shout of ‘come on Richie’ eased the nerves of the jelly-phantitis rendering my face unrecognisable.
I was quickly through T1 and at the mount line. I jumped on the saddle and gave a couple of turns of the peddles to get some speed before slipping into the shoes. To my consternation though I realised I hadn’t left the shoes open, one more thing for the pre race check list. Had to stop, get off and open them infront of the chuckling supporters before mounting and getting going again. I usually like the bike, but the combination of a dodgy energy gel, sea water and jellyfish stings left the stomach and legs feeling ropey. So I was grateful after 8km to see a Pulser at the side of the road looking for assistance (sorry Edel!). Edel had done a Yuri Geller with the chain and I thought we would have to take the wheel off to get it right, but we somehow got it straight and she disappeared off into the distance and a podium for her category!! Back on the bike and with the local scenery shrouded in mist there was nothing to distract from the misery, thankfully I had 2 more breaks for another chain incident and a slow puncture with Dervla. Finally found my calling in Pulse, support rider!!
Bike over and out on the run, my least favourite discipline. Legs cramping, stomach still dodgy it wasn’t long till I succumbed to walking. Two weeks of holidays and beer in the lead up had left my unprepared and promises were made to never turn up for a race like that again. 5km was reached and the relief of the water station, strategically positioned beside a slurry pit, still, water never tasted as sweet. Last 5 km was better and even managed a small sprint for the line cheered on by the other Pulsers.
First pulse season over, great fun, looking forward to a good preseason and a stronger year two, thanks to all in the club.
P.S. One last lesson learned from Hilary: if sending your parents a post race text, tentacles and testicles are easily mixed up in predictive text!!