My Brutal Triple Experience 19-21 September 2015.

Pre Brutal

A few years ago Rich (who supported me on the Brutal) and I were staying in a campsite near Snowdon. During the weekend I saw several things that would inspire me on a journey to ultimately participate in the Brutal; a lone cyclist climbing Pen-Y-Pass, a neon green sign alerting us to a 24 hour Triathlon and some runners looking particularly haggard running up and down Snowdon. When I got home I googled ‘triathlons in North Wales’ and discovered Brutal Events. I would complete a couple of Ironman distance triathlons before rediscovering the “Brutal”; Looking for another challenge after ‘Ironman UK’ in 2014, I had every intention of going for the Double; in itself that would have been difficult enough, but Claire then staged a Triple; my mid-life crisis was triggered; how hard could it be? Clearly applying the ‘ignorance is bliss’ approach to the challenge, I dutifully paid my entry fee and started training………

The Brutal

The 12 months between signing up for the Triple Brutal and starting it seemed to go far too quickly and before I knew it, I was panic buying off Wiggle and trying to sort the logistics plan for the weekend. In the fateful week, I left home early to get my head into the event and arrived on the afternoon on the Thursday. Claire and team were setting up the Event HQ so I tucked myself away in a corner of the field and stuck my tent up. A few last minute purchases and I was ready to go. ‘Team Yates’ started to turn up on the Friday. While we had set up ‘base camp’ in the field I had also rented a cottage on the bike route, and this proved to be invaluable during the

The Brutal Landscape on the way to the Lake. Photo by Rich Green.

event. The pre race briefing complete, there was time to have a quick brew, final kit checks and then one last sleep before the race.

The morning was stunning. A mist lay across Llyn Padarn and as I wandered down to the water’s edge with my support team, the nerves started. I had received some excellent advice from fellow “tripler” Jim and put on my two sets of booties and three hats (and a neoprene vest) prior to getting into the water, to ward off the cold. A few words with my team

and family who had come to see me start and before I knew it we were being ushered into the inky water ready to start. Hanging near the back a few of us wished each other well and as the lime green caps of the half and full athletes shot forward, I gently waded into the water up to my waist, leant into the water and succumbed to the dark coldness as I started swimming to the first buoy.

Mentally I had broken the swim down into each 2 lap part; swim, get out, eat some flapjack and get some warm tea, then swim some more. The first 4 laps were good. It was strangely comforting sharing the water with other swimmers and I made sure every once in a while I looked up and took in the amazing scenery made more impressive as the sun rose and started warming the hillsides around us. I got back in

The start. Photo taken by Rich Green

Getting nervous!

for lap 5 but started feeling tired as I shook off the effects of the week long taper I had enforced on myself prior to starting. This lap seemed to take forever to finish. I got through lap 6 and then everything seemed to go a lot smoother after lap 7. I wasn’t particularly cold, but nonetheless I needed to urinate having not been able to go for a few hours and drinking copious amounts of tea in-between laps! I was able to go but made a conscious note to flush out my suit before I left it in my transition bag for 3 days! During lap 10 my left shoulder started to ache but nothing that caused a massive problem, and as the rest of the field stated to thin out and get on with their next part of the race, the kayakers became welcome company as the “blue caps” completing the Triple continued into laps 11 and 12. I felt pretty good coming out of the lake but was still relieved to get the first part out of the way without any major issues. I remembered my promise to flush out my suit and as I left the lake, I pulled down the collar of the wetsuit and let some water in. Rather too much as when I walked out my ankles looked horrendously swollen as about 20l of water swished about my suit! A quick pull of the ankles released the water much to the amusement of some of the spectators and I walked off to T1 glad to be out of the lake. My team were there ready to feed me and get me out of my kit for the bit I had been dreading. A quick change and I was out on the bike, head down and ready to take on 348 miles.

I was carrying just under 2 liters of water, some food and energy gels on the bike and the plan was that I would stop off at the cottage near Plas-Y-Nant for a resupply on every lap. My longest ride had only been 102 miles prior to the Brutal and this was by far my weakest discipline. My strategy was to ride within my capabilities for the first few laps; get to know the course and then see where I could get some speed up without breaking myself. The road surface coming out of Llanberis was great; nice and smooth and I got on the big cog and put some power down, feeling good and starting to feel confident on what lay ahead. The first left turn and I hit the first few hills of the course. Only short, they are the equivalent of doing burpees with a pack of rocks on your back; they don’t last for long, but they bloody hurt! Through Waunfawr and we were rewarded with a downhill section to the main crossroads and a left turn that took us to Beddgelert. The cottage I had booked was just south of Betws Garmen and my partner’s father, Jimmy, had set up a 24 hour café (to become known as Jimmy’s Café) that kept me fuelled through the bike section. Turning left at Beddgelert all riders knew what was coming; the long climb to Pen-Y-Pass. After the pain of the climb, the fun really started from the top of the pass, with a fast downhill section into Llanberis, made all the better when there were no cars around; the road was dry and the sun was up and that was one lap complete! Only 11 more to go…………………

As the light started to fade the warm kit went on, as did the lights; all riders continued into the night. In ‘Team Yates’ we got into a routine with Rich, Pat and Simon refueling me at the bus stop at the timing chip location, mum and dad cheering me on, and Jimmy producing sandwiches and pasties at the cottage. All was going well until the fourth time I started the climb to Pen-Y-Pass. I just didn’t feel right; there was no power in my legs and felt like I needed to…………….and then I was off throwing up by the road side, watching 2 hours worth of energy bars and

Encouragement from Pat on the way to Pen-Y-Pass. Photo by Rich Green.

electrolyte drink come back up; the same vivid colours it had initially gone in!! Some riders passed me and asked me if I was ok; of course in true British fashion I said ‘yes’ but really I was thinking “of course I’m not ok; what the hell is going on?” I took it easy to the top of Pen-Y-Pass and as it was dark I let the hill do the work on the way down and freewheeled as much as I could back to the turn around point. I

spoke to Rich and the decision was made I needed to take a break. Pat and Simon sorted out the bike and I dived into a sleeping back. Pat tried to wake me 20 mins later with a cup of tomato soup, but I just wasn’t ready to get going. Another 35 mins and I pathetically got my shoes back on and clambered back onto the bike feeling extremely rough. I turned right onto the main road and then tried to change onto the small front cog on my gears and………nothing!

The gear lever was stuck on the big cog! There was absolutely no way I would get up any of the hills with this. I turned back and let the team know what had happened and tried to find someone who could help. Andy the mechanic wasn’t available so one of the stewards, Parker, had a quick look at the bike. As we discussed options we all looked at each other and I think silently we all thought that was it. Was this challenge too big? Was it worth the effort? I had swum quite a long way and completed over 100 miles; I could give up now and go back and say I gave it my best shot. Was this the end of the road? Parker loosened off the front derailleur and moved it onto the smaller cog. I might spin out on the down hills but at least I could get up the hills. The team and me were not done yet and while I only had half my gears and an empty stomach we were nowhere near our limit. Pat and Simon got me back on the bike and Rich changed the nutrition plan; no more power gels and energy drinks, and back to good old fashioned water, pies, fruit and jelly babies! I just remember everybody working to get me going again and as my mum and dad cheered me on, I rode back into the night and I was relieved to be moving again. By the end of lap 5 my energy levels started to return as I devoured egg sandwiches at Jimmy’s Café and back at the transition point the team refueled me with water, flapjacks and hot soup.

Now is as probably as good a time as any to mention the support team and who they were. Rich is my best mate from my Army days. No stranger to putting himself through the mill, he had seen

l-r Dad, Lily and Mum cheering me on.

l-r Pat, Me, Simon and Bailey the dog.

me at most tired during basic training and I trusted his judgment completely. He had also brought Bailey, the legend dog, who completed the Snowdon phase and 3 or 4 laps of the run without complaining! Simon, my next-door neighbour, had kindly offered his services and being ex-Army he also bought a raft of organizational skills and a focus that would prove invaluable during the Brutal. His “Heath Robinson” repair skills also prevented my rattling front water bottle driving me insane during the bike phase! Pat is still a serving member of the Army and a legend within running circles. His experience and inspiring achievements always made me listen, however tired I was, to what he was saying; he was the one member of the team who actually knew what he was talking about whilst the rest of us were making it up and hoping for the best!! The inspiring message Pat sent me before the race stayed with me throughout and his faith in me, kept me motivated. Jimmy completed the team and kept a production line of food going at the cottage. Simply put, if there had been no Jimmy’s Café I would not have finished.

Hazel (Jimmy’s wife) came down on the Sunday with my partner Joanne and daughter Lily and helped out at the Café. My mum and dad were there from the beginning and were a constant force of encouragement; they were there for every lap change, even throughout the night. They also took over support duties when Pat and Simon had to leave and their enthusiasm kept me going.

My partner Jo was amazing. We have been together over 15 years and I saw Jo in a completely different light, as she got her trainers on and joined me running around the lake for lap after lap. Jo had not trained for the event and managed to push me for 20+ miles! I was in awe of her effort and felt I could not let her down by going slowly!

My daughter completed the set up. Lily quietly supported me and on the couple of times I found myself in the tent on my own, Lily came and joined me. While everyone else was getting stuff sorted outside the tent Lily made sure I ate and took food on between laps. I suspect there were 101 places Lily would have rather been with her friends, but she never showed it and made sure I was looked after. My endearing memory from the weekend was not so much the event but the sense of being part of a team that worked brilliantly together. I never doubted they had my best interests at heart. When they told me to eat, I ate. When I was told to rest I rested. And in between, the bastards absolutely made sure I finished!

…So the bike rolled on through the night and tiredness crept in. Illusions were created in and around the spot light dancing in front of the bike and I tried not to let my mind wander too much for fear of thinking about how far I still had to ride. I established a routine and I countered the

The long climb up to Pen-Y-Pass.

discomfort of developing saddle sores through copious amounts of Vaseline and Sudocrem. My shoulders initially became very painful, then numbed as I presume the nerves started to get bored and switch off. Where I was over spinning, my left ankle started to ache and the palms of my hands started to bruise. To combat the cold I wore what I needed to and would have won no prizes in any cycling fashion show; Beanie hat under the helmet was topped off with the very usable Brutal buff – what a life-saving piece of kit!

As dawn broke so did the back of the bike ride, and I knew I was going to finish. My stomach complaint had cleared up, Andy the mechanic had returned my gears to full working order and the team was in the routine. I cycled through Sunday and as dusk descended into darkness for a second time, I approached T2 and the inevitable climb up Snowdon. Simon and Pat had had to leave for home on the Sunday night and they wished me well. I was sorry to see them go and remained extremely grateful for their amazing support through the swim and bike phases.

I was glad to have completed the bike and leave my weakest discipline behind. All the aches and pains I received were manageable and after discussing it with Rich we decided it was best to get the Snowdon leg out of the way straight away. Rich had recce’d the route, and while my transition would not have won any prizes for speed, we were setting off in good order into a foul night of weather. At the Safety CP we were told that we

would only be going about ¾ of the way up Snowdon due to the weather, and that to complete the mountain phase we would have to partially complete a lap of the lake when we returned. Partway up we saw Rich and his team running back down and also Jim with his support team. They both seemed in great spirits and looked strong. We picked our way up to the Mountain CP before heading back down the hill. We debated whether or not to start the laps of the lake after the mountain phase but I decided I needed a rest and proper refuel so I got my head down for an hour. Rich gave me

a nudge after 60 mins and we cracked on.

We started the run out of Llanberis and then turned right onto the road to the bridge. We caught up with Simon who was also on his first lap with a support runner. We decided to take the first lap easy, so we all walked around talking about how we had found the race so far. From

Me and Rich starting the mountain phase.

Bailey demonstrating how we all felt!

having a pretty lonely bike phase, having company was a welcome relief and we completed the first lap together. As my support crew got their heads down for a few hours I went for a few laps on my own. I felt really good and was surprised how quickly I got into a rhythm of walking, shuffling, jogging and running. I think I had a break after lap 4 for about 20 mins then started running again. I remember starting to tire for laps 6 – 9 and was grateful for Rich and Jo running with me for consecutive laps. Now it was becoming a battle to keep going. I constantly debated whether or not to have another break but decided a quick 5 mins between laps to tape my feet up and eat a pie was sufficient rest (although sometimes these turned into 10 min break!). As the end got closer so did my determination to finish. Rich and Bailey the dog pushed me hard around the lap until it was also time for them to leave for

home, with me having just 3 laps left to go. Rich was faced with a 5-hour journey but had left it until the last minute to leave. The end was almost there and Rich left me in good shape; barring an utter disaster I was going to finish. Jo ran with me on lap 10 where she met Justin for the first time. Justin was one of Jim’s support crew who, dressed as a

Minion, had become one of the major celebrities of the 2015 Brutal; he provided an unofficial aid station out of the slate bridge valley. He did an amazing job and his support and enthusiasm throughout never wavered – he was brilliant, (and not back for an ex-bootneck)!

Jim came through at the same time although he was on his 12 th lap looking absolutely focused on achieving his goal. He had moved quickly and I commented to him that he was awesome. He stared at me, intoxicated on electrolytes and then said, “No, you are fucking awesome!” I love this race!

I completed lap 11 on my own and here it was Rich Fuller flew past me at the top of the big hill. He looked extremely strong as he was smashing his last lap and I didn’t think anybody could smile so much having been on the go for nearly 60 hours. He wished me well and then was gone to get a well-deserved 3rd place. I knew that TC and Jim had already finished and I was almost there myself. I continued into lap 12 feeling good as I had a second wind; probably induced by being so close to the end. As I came into my final lap I needed to re-tape my feet. The trails had given me some big hot

Running just before the Perch The Minion!

Me and Jo.

spots on my feet that needed continual treatment if they were not to seriously cause me problems (even for the last lap). Jo ran the last lap with me and for me this was a particularly poignant event. I felt every pain and ache in my body, but mentally had never felt better and I wanted to be with Jo for this final bit. We turned right out of Llanberis and as we hit the trail Mark flew past us looking very strong. I didn’t know about his stomach upset at the time, but the fact he was able to recover and then push that hard on his final laps was amazing. We exchanged a few words and he was gone into the darkness. Jo and I worked our way through the last lap and got to the gate that led into the final field before the finish. I held Jo’s hand and we jogged the last few hundred meters together. I cannot remember the last time I felt so fulfilled and then it was over. I had crossed the finish line in 61:35hrs. Jo, Lily, my mum and dad and Justin were there to bring me home. I had done it. We had done it: Rich (and Bailey), Pat, Simon, Jimmy & Hazel, Mum & Dad: Jo and Lily. Me. We had all completed the Brutal Triple Ironman.

l-r Dad, Mu, Me, Lily and Jo . Photo taken by Justin

Post Brutal

So the morning after the night before dawned and I woke in a bed having had a bath in the cottage after the race, much to the relief of the remaining support crew. Jo and Lily had gone home, as had my mum and dad. I gingerly shuffled out of the bedroom as my calves, quads and hamstrings all cracked and groaned with post race soreness. My back ached and my shoulder blades were numb. My feet were very sore and bruised and my knees and hips were twice their normal size. Saddle sores were also letting themselves be known. However nothing could detract from the huge sense of pride and positivity that coursed through my body; the challenge was over and the job had been done. Jimmy cooked a final breakfast of scrambled eggs and I packed the car for Llanberis one last time to meet whoever was going to be in Pete’s Eats for a Survivors Breakfast; I felt I deserved two breakfasts that morning! The Café was absolutely buzzing with stories and excitement as Jim, Rich, Simon, Nigel, Will and me ordered our food. It was there I learned that Paul had crossed the

line in 71 hours and not given up; Unbelievable. Jim’s family were there and were kind enough to let me join them for a large breakfast. There was time for a photo call outside before it was time to get back to the field, collapse the tent and get home. It was all over. The field was emptying, the banners had gone, local kids were reclaiming the football pitch and life returned back to normal for everyone in Llanberis.

l-r Simon, Nigel, Rich, Jim, Will and me outside Pete’s Eats. Photo taken by one of Jim’s team.

And beyond…………….

So a couple of weeks on and the body has recovered. I keep waking up in the night thinking I am back on the race and the other night I woke Jo up kneeing her in the back; I thought I was back on the bike! What we all achieved has now sunk in and whatever the distance anyone covered that weekend it was brutal. Claire and the team did a great job and I liked the fact everybody was allowed to complete their goal. The sense of shared hardship and comradeship between the support crews and the athletes is the thing that will stay with me and I have met people that I can now call friends and will know for many years to come. The Brutal was not so much a race, but a life experience that has made everyone who took part at whatever distance, and in whatever capacity, better for being there.

And what next? I haven’t trained properly since the event and intend to have another week off before I get back into it. I think I will have to get back to you on the next challenge……………..

Mark YatesOctober 2015