From Triathlotte to Ironlotte: October 2015

I'm not even sure where to start here…this could be quite a long one, so I might advise a few cups of tea or something stronger depending on your preference.

I honestly thought that 2014 had been the hardest year of my life so far, I was wrong. 2015 has brought so many challenges and obstacles I can't even begin to recount them all. My body and my mind have been tested beyond their boundaries - weak on many occasions and my heart has been broken, but through all of the anxiety, pain and tears…one thing has kept me going, struggling on through all the doubts and failures… Ironman.

The morning of October 4th started with a 5.30 alarm which didn't even need to go off as I was awake already - a quick breakfast and a nervous walk down to transition with mum to put my drinks bottles and nutrition into place for the day ahead. In the darkness I saw an athletic figure sitting on the wall - only Jonathan Brownlee!!! - surely this is a good omen (of which there have been many on the lead up) we chatted to him for a while and discussed 15in15 - he was a really genuine and nice guy. We asked him what he thought of when he was struggling in a race - his advise "remember WHY you are doing it" - I might not be an Olympian, but this is the same advise I have given myself all year when times got tough. In my case something I will never forget or grow tired of fighting for…the memory of my dad.

As I stand on the start line on the beach at Callela, having said an emotional goodbye to my family and our surrogate sister Laura - my mind is noisy with doubts, anxieties, unanswered questions, anger and fear, but most of all I am thinking about my dad and what he would make of it all. I'm ready in my armour (pink lipstick,fake tan and pink IM nails - thanks to Lindsay Rutherford) to go into battle with this epic challenge. I've made it…I am competing in Ironman Barcelona 2015 and I have a shot at that medal and the feeling that I know will come at the finish line.

It's amazing how lonely you can feel even when you are amongst 2500 other athletes. As I make my way through the crowd I see a friendly face - Dave (whom I have just met on the trip and is staying in the same hotel) waves a hand in the air - excellent someone to chat to until the gun goes off. We chat a while but I am still feeling very anxious, then through the waves of orange and yellow hats comes the imposing 6ft 4 figure of 'Wor Rob' - my adopted father for this trip and one of natures gentlemen. The kind of guy who will bend over backwards to help and pick you up when you're down - Wor Rob could clearly tell I was nervous and I told him I was anxious of the swim course as I wasn't entirely sure where the turn around point was. At this stage, almost as if I was a rag doll - I was lifted up by my knees and given a vantage point high above all the swim caps…I could see for miles and managed to clock the turn around with ease (Just below Callela's famous lighthouse). Feet back on the ground now (Thanks WR) talk turns to Rob's next shopping trip and which shoes and blazer he is going to purchase - we are both into our wardrobes it has to be said. I can talk about shopping until the cows come home and before I knew it the gun had gone off, the music was blasting and we were going over the start line ( my pink lipstick gets a mention as I dive into the water). WR had told me to follow his feet if I needed - size 12's - you would think that would be easy - it wasn't….I lost him within about 100 meters, but that was ok - I was on the way now…the beginning of what was going to be a very long but rewarding day.

For the first 200 meters the water was churned up and opaque from the hundreds of swimmers thrashing about and jostling for position, it's hard to see where to sight the buoy when there are so many orange and yellow hats in the water (the bouys were also yellow). Gradually the field began to lengthen and I settled into a gradual and settled rhythm. The sea was clear and the salt water made the wetsuit swim much easier because of the extra buoyancy it gives. Frustratingly we had been hanging around for about 40mins on the start line, and at this point I'd probably been swimming for about 30mins…oh no…here it comes…call of nature needed. This is the very un glamorous part of triathlon/ironman which I am not very good with. Most people are happy and used to just going as they swim…I am not one of them…I tried in vain for about 20mins while I was swimming and it was not happening. I was getting more and more desperate and frustrated with myself. This is the point I regret wearing the pink lipstick, not exactly inconspicuous…so now I'm bobbing around with my fingers in my ears and my eyes closed trying to pretend I am somewhere else (not surrounded by hundreds of swimmers going round me and wondering what I'm doing) so I can relieve myself and continue on with my swim. Not glamourous at all but this is what had to be done in pursuit of those immortal words and that medal. So…I've managed it…austin powers style and I'm now feeling light as a feather- needless to say the second half of my swim was much better than the first. Thank goodness for that.

I felt completely relaxed and ready to go when I was hauled out of the swell (the waves onto the beach were quite poweful) by a strapping spanish chap and propelled up the beach into transition. I took a few mins to compose myself and get dried and ready for the next 7hrs…on my trusty steed. I stripped off my wetsuit to reveal my team colours '15in15' Lets challenge cancer! I often think of it in terms of them being the colours of Tony Woodcock and that I'm flying the flag for him when I'm on the course. This gives me strength. Co-ordinating kit is on - pink socks, pink and white helmet and purple race belt - everything is matching (come on I am trying my best to bring some glamour) As I trot up the transition zone and across the astroturf, I spot my trusty steed. Her pink tyres shining out from the crowd of other bikes - thanks to Mr Keane who I met on ride london, I now have a fresh pair which are not bald and are ready to roll safely along the 112 miles which will take me onto the final stage - but I'm not getting that far ahead of myself- a lot can happen on the course. As I grab my bike and head out of transition I hear the calls from my support team who are waiting to cheer me onto the next stage (thanks to Rach, Mum and Laura). You can not underestimate what a boost seeing a friendly face gives…It reminded me again of the reasons why I needed to keep going and why I was doing this.

Safely over the mount line (no mounting block needed) and I'm off at a canter down the narrow lanes of Callela - feeling good and ready to take on the day, my armour shining brightly on this slightly dull and overcast day. The conditions it has to be said were ideal really. Hardly any wind and not too hot - we were lucky it could have been much harder. The first half of the course I was flying - something like 18mph over the first 50miles which is very good for me. I felt great…but always concerned about not making the cut off which was 6pm. Ironman is unpredictable as is any triathlon, you can prepare as much as you like but sometimes fate can throw a wicked turn and you can find yourself off the course. I saw one man who had come off on a roundabout - covered in a blanket and surrounded by paramedics - this is never easy to see but it never fails to concentrate your mind and remind you to stay focussed.

In general the bike course was great - I passed loads of my team mates on the way - Wor Rob had developed a whistle reminiscent of the Mockingjay tune from the hunger games which I was greeted with on at least three occasions, along with a salute and a huge grin. If I were a character in any film it would definitely be Katniss Everdeen - she kicks ass - she'd defo be an Ironman. Crsitina Tyley and I marked our passing of each other with a cheer of our spanish names (invented at F4L training camp in april) "Juanita"!!! for her and "Lolita"!!! for me, we have been on much of our Ironman journey together.

As the miles clocked up, so did the fatigue and the pain…Thank god for ibuprofen and salt tablets. The seven hour ride (slightly under) was long and towards the end my toes were really feeling it. Sadly my speed dropped and I was struggling, but I knew as long as I kept going I would make the cut off. As I came down to end my second lap and out onto the third half lap my head was starting to go down - but not for long. I pedalled up the hill to Callela - I knew there was a downhill coming…As I whipped down on the tri-bars onto the roundabout, I was greeted by a wall of sound! It almost knocked me off my bike! What a feeling…it was like being part of a grand tour! Everyone screaming, cheering and the site of my Mum, Rach and Laura again…. "I love you" from Rach "You're a rockstar" lifted my spirits and I was soaring again - unwavering support which I will never forget. As a double whammy as I was going back up the hill I had just come down, a guy clocked my bike and kit "awesome gear" - "You're like triathlete barbie" - "I'll take that I say" - "Thanks" - smiling to myself it's time to dig deep and grind out the final half lap.

The last half lap was tough despite the boost. Things start to get sore after miles in the saddle, my back was aching, my toes were cramped and I even thought about taking my feet out of my shoes and putting them on top like the pros do sometimes, but I popped a few more Ibuprofen and pushed on. As I went up the hill for the final time a frustrated Irishman who was also grinding out the final few miles exclaimed (father ted style) "Where's that fecking lighthouse" - I chuckled to myself, everyone was feeling it but he hadn't lost his sense of humour. I zoomed down the other side of the hill for the final time into Callela, waved in again on the roundabout by my cheerleaders! I was beaming! I had made the cut off…all I had to do was keep going and that medal was mine. The risk of failure on the run is much lower than the bike (although still possible) meaning some of the pressure was gone. As I made my way back through the narrow lanes I started to think now towards the final hurdle and the biggest for me. 26.2 miles of pavement pounding - The most I had done in training was 13.1… I still had a lot of work to do.

I racked my bike in transition and trotted back to the tent to don the next stage of my armour, this time to add to the mix, pink trainers and a pink Ironman visor (well what's the point going for half measures) I had a comfort break to ready myself for the run and managed to stomach half a snicker bar - running on gels and energy drinks all day is not the most palatable diet.

Out of the transition tent and out on to the course I headed…Oh god…what is this feeling…pain…hello pain…you are not my friend…My legs were screaming at me to stop, my quads were on fire and my energy levels felt at an all time low. I tried with all I could muster to keep running but it just wasn't happening. How could I be hitting the wall in the first 2k! I came down the seafront and was again greeted by cheers from Mum, Rach and Laura. My head had gone from being proud, happy and held high to down and in the gutter within a matter of minutes. This I know now is the nature of Ironman, the highs and lows are acute and can happen at any time. As I ran past the finishing chute the cruel beast reared it's head again "Peter Schofield - You are an Ironman" - only another four laps to go before I hear those words!

As I made my way back round to 'Team cheer' .. I was greeted by Team cheer number 2 - made up of the Tri North triathlon widows (who all deserve a medal for putting up with their anal husbands on the run up to IM) - Debbie and the two Sarahs - They were cheering with some real passion too - "Come on Lottie- do it for the girls, you can do it, smash it" - I started running/shuffling again but my legs were still killing and my mind was starting to wander and think negative thoughts. I passed cheer squad 1 again on my way out onto the first full 10k lap and I could see the look on their faces - they were worried and so was I. If I continued to walk I was not going to make the 00.30 cut off and the dream would be over. I shuffled on….

Around 3k I was greeted by Barry Taylor and Michael 'the Lionheart' Morrow, with their merry band…"Come on Lottie, you are doing it" - "Just keep going"… "I've not even done bloody 5k yet" - "Yes but that's 3k less to do" - urrggghhhh I had still got 24 miles to go and I was totally shattered. With their cheers ringing in my ears I headed off across the astroturf and into the part of the course I have affectionately come to know as 'no mans land' - This was where the battle really started. I asked someone the time and I worked out that I needed to speed up considerably if I was going to make the finish. I popped some more Ibuprofen and at this point I had to have a serious word with myself. Yes I was in pain, yes I was tired, but no I was not going to give up. I heard my dad in my head "Come on Char, you can do this - all you need to do is pick up your feet and keep going".

I reached in my back pocket and found my memento of dad - my secret weapon in my armour against this battle. A reminder of my dad - it was a wine glass charm complete with silver bicycle (highly appropriate, although slightly ironic for anyone who knew dad well - his glass was never away from his lips for long enough to need a charm, especially when red wine was on the menu - he always knew which glass was his, always ready for a top up) I held it in my hand for a while and I thought of dad - he would never have given up, he didn't give up until it was the only option left. I was lucky to be here, at the end of this journey which had taken me thousands of miles - I really was so close to the finish - "Pick up your feet Char, pick up your feet". With tears rolling down my cheeks, I returned my charm to it's secure pocket and I began to pick up my feet and my head again.

Something had happened in my mind and I was starting to feel the energy returning, I don't know if it was the snickers (other peanut and caramel bars are available) kicking in, or if the word I had with myself was having an impact, but I was running again. It was slow and it wasn't pretty but I was going. I made a pact again like at 70.3….I would run through all the way as long as I could and then walk the aid stations. If I carried on at a pace I would earn myself a bit of breathing space in the final miles and if I needed to walk then I could. The stations started coming more quickly and so did the kilometre signs…I was going again…not at any great pace, but fast enough to make up some time and the smile was also coming back a little. The rest of the first and second lap continued to be relatively straight forward…the support was immense near the beach…again about a hundred comments about my lipstick and two hilarious essex girls seemed to be my newest fans. They cracked me up with their cheers - they were so passionate and they really made me smile again.

The third lap was a killer and by this time it was pitch black…I must keep going though…I still didn't have enough of a cushion to allow me to walk. I was going over the 13mile mark and a new distance pb on the run - yes it was a slow pace, but considering what had come before I felt happy that I was still going. Only about another 3hrs to go to the finish! haha! I focussed on my medal and the words I was so desperate to hear! No mans land was hell on earth. The part of the course where the supporters really dwindled and it was literally me and the sea, the sound of my breath and the pounding of my feet. I used this time to take stock of what has been a tough but hugely rewarding year. I thought of the hundreds of messages of support I got before the race and all the generous donations from people. I thought of the people who had knocked me down and the ones who had lifted me up. Then I was almost upon lap 4. This would be the last time I would have to run past the finishing chute without hearing my name called out! Queue the essex girls… This time they were running alongside me…literally almost touching distance of my face…screaming at the top of their voices… "come on Charlotte, you're the best, you look great, we love you" ha ha ha!! They were so funny…I only wish I knew who they were so I could say thank you - I am smiling as I write this…great crack girls!!!

As the final lap loomed and my thoughts turned to another pitch black trek through no mans land, I caught sight of mum and the girls. My legs were in bits now and parts of my body were hurting that I didn't even know existed. I needed a boost to help me get this final lap under my belt. Other competitors seemed to have walking partners and some of them didn't have numbers on. I asked mum to walk for me for a while and there was still 2hrs to go before the final cut off and the end of the race. 10k in 2hrs - this is in the bag. I reached in my back pocket for my little piece of dad and held it around my thumb as I power walked my way onto the last 6 miles. Laura had some flat coke waiting for me - thanks for that chief coke shaker!

As we headed off into no mans land a familiar and imposing figure emerged out of the darkness…if I hadn't recognised his statuesque silhouette I'd have been slightly intimidated at that point. Wor Rob approached and with his giant wingspan, picked up both mum and I into a giant man-sized hug. "Gan on Lottie, you're nearly there"… we part company all smiles and he heads for the finish and his medal as we power walk our way on. Sadly about another kilometre on, marshals on mountain bikes (mountain bikes in Ironman!!!) had been dispatched onto the course and mum was told she could go no further…so I was on my own again. Not for long…a few mins later a chap called Jason who had commented on my pink tyres on the bike, had joined me. It was his first Ironman too and he was struggling. We agreed to power walk together to the finish…we had enough time and although our bodies were really hurting we had fire in our bellies for those medals.

Mum caught up with us via a secret underpass and joined back on the train about 3k from the finish. This was it…I was on the final straight…flanked by wonder women (mum) and Ironman (soon to be Jason)…Chat turned to the finish and with 1k to go, Barry Taylor was waiting…. ready with mobile phone in hand for an (almost) finishing straight selfie. He was beaming from ear-to-ear. Having competed in several Ironmen himself he knew what it had taken to get there. I would be the last of our party to finish but I didn't care…How many people in the world could say that they had completed an Ironman.

One final push… I tried to run with Jason but my legs were shot and if I tried to run too much further I would be crawling over the finish. He went on to get his moment on the red carpet and I composed myself ready for mine…this was it…all of the hard work, the blood, sweat, tears, early mornings, miles in the bank, moments of doubt, anxiety, fear, failures - every emotion possible I had felt on the run up, was now about to be silenced. There was nobody in front or behind…mum ran across the bridge and into the grandstand to join Rach and Laura who were already there…It was my time…As I ran down the red carpet the music and cheers were deafening, even though the supporters were less now, the sound seemed just as intense. "approaching we have our next lady"… "The girl with the perfect pink lipstick" ha ha ha…this will never leave me… "Charlotte Woodcock….you…are…an….IRONMAN" I was so happy. I honestly can not explain the feeling of complete joy when I heard those words. Having not had any of those major milestones in my life that many others of my age have had, I can only think it's similar to how you feel on your wedding day, or when you have your first child. I had done it!!! It was something that nobody could ever take away from me. Time would never weaken the sense of satisfaction and pride that this achievement had brought me. I stood on the finish line for a few moments and made the most of the moment…I saluted dad and I felt at peace…I had finished the job I set out to do.

As I made my way into the finishers tent I collected my t-shirt and was greeted my my tyne-tri equivalent - Lottie Haylock. Another friend for life made on the trip and she's a keeper. Michael Morrow invented a collective name for a pair of Lotties - A lovely of Lotties - I'll take that one too. We heart you Michael - sorry Team Leader! Nobody forget it! We sipped our Fanta Lemon (the holiday drink of champions) and Lottie finished my half lager…I could not stomach alcohol at this point. We chatted for a few mins and then I was too excited to see everyone.

We left the tent and stepped out onto the gantry to meet our cheering team. There they were….it had been a long day for all concerned…An emotional reunion with Rach and Laura…Rach more than anyone gave me the biggest hug. She knew how much it meant to me to have completed the journey, her younger sister by 6 years, she has always looked after me, supported me and kept me sane when I have often felt like I'm going mad. My Mum - who has been my one of my many coaches, confident and advisor…I am so lucky to have such a strong role model…she kept me strong when I felt weak. I could not have done it without you both.

It's only on my return that I am starting to digest the amount of support that I was receiving from back home. I think there were about 30 people watching the finishing line on Ironman TV (didn't even know you could do such a thing) and awaiting my arrival. It's amazing and totally overwhelming. Honestly - if you really want something, you can get it. You really can. If you want something enough, you can make your dreams happen. Thanks to everyone for all the comments, donations, posts and positive vibes…you all helped me get through it. Do not underestimate the power each and everyone of you has had in getting me to the finish line.

God there are so many Thank you's to do here I am not sure they will all fit on the page, but I think you know who you all are….

Many of you were written on my arm in anticipation of the hard run to the finish. Special Thanks must go to my coach Andy Stevens who has also been my counsellor and not given me a hard time when I've not filled in my training peaks data - sorry coach (new years resolution number one).

Nigel & Sandra Thompson - for sponsoring my place and supporting us all through the good times and the very bad - Nigel visited my dad almost every day he was in hospital and made sure he had the best treatment possible, he never gave up hoping he would make a full recovery. I will never forget this.

Jane Jaffa Dungait, Rory Morrison, Olivia Clerey, Andrew Lees, Amanda McMahon, Adam Rowe, Marius Van Aswegen, Victoria Gordon, Lauren Clerey and Rachel Jarman - Close friends who have had unwavering faith in me and picked me out of the gutter on more times than I care to mention.

The old boys (well older than me) Barry Taylor, Micheal Morrow, Neil Jefferson, Lee Tait, Wor Rob and Darren Noble - your words of Ironman wisdom helped me get to that finish line. If you old farts can do it then why couldn't I?!

Tri Northumberland and F4L team mates - again the most supportive and lovely bunch of people you could hope to meet.

My Shotton Family - The Phillipson clan and especially Roppa who saved the day when my taxi didn't turn up for the airport.

My work colleagues from Countylife who have all put up with my constant Ironman chat and whinges about aches and pains.

My family - Angus, Georgie & William, Auntie Hilary, Uncle Paul, Oliver and Sophie (thanks for the goggle box vid)Auntie Katie, Uncle Steven and James. Alison & John.

Mum, Rach and our surrogate Barcelona sister Laura - Believe me when I say - I could NOT have done it without you all.

God this is starting to sound like an oscar acceptance! Sorry! Promise I won't do a Gwyneth Paltrow on you all.

Finally to the person who started me off on the Journey - who was with me in mind, if not body - every step of the way. Dad… I miss you everyday. Sometimes I struggle to make sense of why certain things happen, but I know somewhere wherever you are, you are doing your best to sort it all out. Thank you for helping me believe that 'anything is possible'.

Charlotte Woodcock is an IRONMAN!!!!

Go chase your dreams down - Courage to start, Strength to endure, Resolve to finish!

To be continued….

Big love. Lottie xxxxx