With my bumjury much improved, training started early in Dec 2012. My French other half and I spent Christmas on long aerobic rides and runs in the Auvergne hills, keeping well hydrated on wine and recovery meals of fois gras and cheese.
By spring, base fitness was good and I started racing. My aim for the season was to run faster and without injury, and to qualify for the world champs which were based at home - Hyde Park, a hell of a lot more convenient than NZ last year! I started doing club track sessions which basically trains you to run fast, in pain, whilst being on the verge of vomitting. I immediately saw the benefits on a timed 5k as I tried to keep up with a club mate knocking 1:10 off the PB from 21:30 to 20:20.
Some aquathons, burning legs TT's and braving the 10 degree lakes after the never-ending cold temperatures, got me well prepped once racing season was under way and I felt super confident about my second year going for age-group qualification.
First race: Deva. Friends of mine had done it the previous year and benefited from a very fast current- assisted swim and comfortable qualification so I was full of confidence. Unfortunately 50 other woman in my age-group thought the same. The swim was mostly upstream and I was so far from the lead group disappearing into the blinding sunlight and I came out way down. Bike leg went OK but I figured all my competition was way ahead and I mainly overtook the slow men from the previous wave. Once on the run I made up a couple of positions but still felt far off. Coming in at 2:34, not great considering my improved fitness and a disappointing 19th in age-group. Roll down doesn't roll down THAT much...
Trying to ignore my dented confidence, I looked ahead to Dambuster, where I had qualified the previous year so knew the course. I had almost given up on world champ qualification and seeing my low esteem, my brilliant Kiwi Physio James noticed and gave me a royal kick up the ass: 'C'mon Naomi for the Dambuster! Go hard mate and dominate!!! I look forward to a monster effort from you all the way.' It worked.
Rutland water is VERY windy, so the swim (after a dramatic beach start) was choppy and made me feel a bit sea sick. I powered on in my usual no-woman's land position behind the lead group and before the main bunch. There was some confusion at one of the turning buoys and I saw the lead group coming back - wow, I'm slow I thought! Onto the bike and battling cross winds the whole way round (where was the nice tailwind treat?) I made up a few places on the little hills and then to the run. This is where I needed to dominate, with Physio James' words ringing in my ears, it's only 10k of pain I thought to myself. Thinking about the vomit-inducing track sessions I had become accustomed to, I settled into it. I got a massive buzz seeing my male mates and boyf in the earlier wave coming in from the dam who told me 'you're quite high up in the field, go for it', (although I didn't know if they were just saying that to encourage me). More cross winds and with the sun raging down, a club mate (and very good age-grouper) Fiona overtook me half way in and I thought if I can keep within a couple of minutes of her, I might scrape into the top 4...
I came in at 2:24, a massive PB by 7 mins but knowing the quality of the field, was unsure if it was enough. There was a commotion around the results machine and word got round that the lead group of women turned at the wrong buoy and were all DQ'd. Print out showed 5th so I was very happy to be next in line for roll down. It was only when we were sat on the motorway coming home I went into the BTF website and saw it was top 5 who got through, so I had automatically qualified, bloody brilliant! So, I am going to London for the finals alongside club mate Fiona (who always overtakes me on the run) and TT mate Laura (who always overtakes me on the bike). Very excited.
With that sorted, I could focus on another equally important objective of the season: The Tooting "World" Championships (well, nearly). The most local race at just 0.5 miles from my house, it's a series of 4 aquathons and the best ranked person gets a mug, that's right, you heard it right, a mug. Amazing.
My objective was to have maximum attendance and podium for each. The first 2 races went well, helped by some cold and wet weather which scared off the fair weather athletes, I bagged gold and then silver. By the 3rd race, the sun had come out welcoming more competitors and I slipped down to bronze, dammit. The friendly race director pointed out it was funny I was moving down every week...
The last race came after a week celebrating turning 30 in Ibiza which involved lazing around, drinking and dancing till the sun came up (cardio?) so it's fair to say I felt slightly unprepared. I decided it was going to hurt but I just had to get on with it. This is the Tooting Championships and and there is a mug at stake. My swim was a bit sloppy so I had to go for it on the run and I did, overtaking a few and moving up the ranks to silver. And the result is below!
So now just another 8 weeks of 5.30am alarms, tired muscles and carb loading until Hyde Park. If I'm ever feeling sluggish I remind myself that friends and family will be waiting by the side of the Serpentine and I don't want to disappoint them. For me, qualifiers are all about getting near the top, and the World Championships are all about avoiding the bottom, so here we go...
