Inspirational Idol at Ironman - the Rebecca Smith Show

A drizzly morning countered with the inspirational story unfolding on our doorstep got 14 riders to the shop for the 8am start with presumably another 100 or so who don't swim or run an hour later. Matt wanted to be back for 12:30 so he was up for going out early to Longridge and Mellor at a rather steady A pace. However I was only out to get a quick hour in before YOLOING back to Hunter's Hill where Rebecca Smith and about a dozen or so St Helens Tri teammates would make history so agreed to get a hard turn in on the front early doors before turning back at Preston despite the apparent issue with my rear brake blocks trying to eat the tyres. Matt set off alongside Ian Gallagher, beginning with Dark Lane.

I DON'T THINK YOU NEED TO JOIN A TRACK ATHLETICS CLUB SOMEHOW, CHINOOK

The first few miles were rather steadier than on recent Sundays given we had fewer pain faces in the group than normal. I was on Row 2 alongside onetime Ironman Stefan who apparently doesn't get envy on the third Sunday of July any more, rather he prefers to join in these ever longer challenges like Roof Man's Madone 9/Sub-9 One Direction 170 mile outing the weekend I'm at the national club relays in Nottingham. The ride itself was rolling along at a nice, steady 21mph all the way to the Hoscar Moss where pretty much nothing of note happened until I got distracted by two ladies out for a morning jog at sub-Rebecca Ironman pace. Well if they were going at Chinook 5k speed (as exhibited the other day when YOLOING past Matt on his way to work) I think I'd have been distracted so much I would have ended up off the back, I dropped way behind Stefan over the railway line as it was. Eventually we reached the end of the road before turning towards the Eagle and Child, where Jeff Dunne was waiting for us. His reputation plus the ever increasingly tough challenges we set ourselves and my propensity for blowing up after an hour definitely had me thinking that my mate's offer to join Southport Waterloo to give them some "help" on the track and at the cross country might not be the transfer of the century, unlike what the Evertonians would have you believe they just picked up (forget it, Wayne Rooney is no taller than me and he's two stone heavier, case closed it's your year, you're finishing 7th again). It wasn't long before the first change was enacted and this put two front wheels with a combined depth of 85mm out front in the form of me and John Hill. I was only here to unleash hell for an hour so was in no mood to hold back at all and John has just added Edco 50mm's to his De Rosa! Well, life's too short to ride s*** wheelz so why not buy a pair for your Ironman 2018 journey? We pushed on past the mysteriously "for sale" care home that used to be the Mawdesley Eating House and Hotel and onwards past a farm offering "Chickens. Eggs. Sold Here" (lending a new meaning to the chicken and egg conundrum) but we had to get through two roadblocks neither of which were terribly difficult to negotiate because we agreed to go the opposite way to the racers. Before long we had reached Eccleston where we were quickly over the humpback bridge and on our way to the Texaco only to get diverted away from the cobbled bridge by yet another, more concrete road closure sending us almost to Bretherton at the usual Chinook half-wheeling speed of 23mph before finally allowing us into the open via another back road, where we still couldn't get out of the woods because there were plenty of riders coming the other way eager to reach Hunter's Hill. By this time Howie had hit the front and held station all the way to Much Hoole and the roundabout over the A59 but rather than have a look a the new build properties lining the main road we carried on through Hutton past Booths (damn I forgot to bring the free coffee card) but I did get a good chat with Stefan and Wilko about the future of the Duke of Edinburgh Award vs the NCS. There's life in the old Duke yet methinks. Anyway, it was now time to blend out of the throttle, change down a couple of gears and let the whole pack past me as it was time to bomb down the A59 back towards the main event, Ironman UK.

CHINOOK DOES A MICHAEL ASHURST! ANOTHER CATAHU AKBAR SITUATION

My first assignment was the A59 and this got YOLOED at 23mph until the Hoole roundabout where I turned once more through the village, skirting the racing line all the way through. As I didn't know any alternative routes I simply followed the signs for Croston and hope that I could sneak onto the course as a phantom racer, even easier given that Cervelo S1 Man and Felt AR Man didn't want to join me when I got lost at a crossroads. Through Croston itself it was elbows on bars to get as low as possible and go as fast as possible before waving at Dolan Man on the bridge itself. At the point where the roads closed I walked past the marshals while they had their backs turned, used the pavement for the next  400 metres and then joined the race route, staying out of the way much to the relief of Argon 18 Lady who must have wondered how a Specialized rider in matching colour kit can ride at non-A group pace. Well, I was trying not to race anyone for once..........I reached the Robin Hood pub and asked for an alternative route to the climb but the marshals suggested I simply follow the course (they must have recognised me from an hour earlier alongside John) so let me through as long as I didn't hold anyone up. So the next few miles were quite entertaining as the crowd cheered every rider out on the course; the drinks station people even waved a bottle at me, but I wasn't going to stoop to those levels and kept on with the task of reaching the climb by 10am, which I duly pulled off with a good few minutes to spare.

The volunteer team asked me if my bike was broken but yet again I assured them I wasn't trying desperately to catch Rebecca and as such I waited for a gap in the traffic before rejoining to begin the climb. The St Helens Tri posse were halfway up just before the private mansion on the left so I joined them and set about happy-snapping anyone I knew. Of course the Saints were out in force, and the funniest moment was when Dave Gaskell held up the banner to Helen Broderick saying "go on Broders, you are an Ironman" but the biggest smile of the day was on the face of the other member of the HMCC Cat Lovers Division as she powered away from the guys on time trial bikes. During the time waiting for the rest of the St Helens riders to pass I got a bit of help with wetsuit fitting from a couple of experts including how to save time in transition without ripping the neoprene; remember you'll want me in a good mood to lead the C's the day after Project Llanberis so better get a good result hadn't I? Come 11:30 Dave was contemplating a pint at the Farmers Arms, but don't suggest that to either one of two of us. Of course I had to get to town for 2pm so had no choice but to YOLO all the way home, but a lady in a white BMW tried to DRIVE up Hunter's Hill when she could just have gone up Stoney or Parbold! She really had no competition for the Reject award. Anyhow, it was time to ride down the hill, towards Newburgh, passing Mark Hope and his dog as I did so. The remaining miles were relatively uneventful apart from Cervelo R3 Man turning towards the Beacon just before being caught and me pulling off a quadruple round-the-outside pass onto the A59 but after one more attack into Ormskirk I could park the bike in the garage, eat a quick sandwich then get the train into town for the last Liverpool Philharmonic concert of the term, followed by a pizza and wine social in the green room upstairs. That's how you do three in one without really knowing how to swim, and that's what you call a grand Ironman day out!

Now for the results, in association with Rebecca's choice, the De Rosa Idol:

Distance: 64.72km
Time: 2:03:01
Average Speed: 31.57kmh
Boneheaded BMW Drivers: 1
Beet It Bars: 2

Roadblocks: 3

Phantom Iron Men: Just me
Post Triple-Header Nutrition: 10/10 (Domino's pizza delivery and three glasses of wine plus a bottle of Love Lane real ale in the green rooms at the Philharmonic)

REJECT OF THE RIDE: BMW Driver
(What part of "road closed" do you NOT understand)

Time to watch the British Grand Prix on the plus box. But let's give the final word to Rebecca Smith, who in two years has gone from not riding a bike to completing Ironman in 12:30. Congratulations Becky - club champion 2017, no doubt!