She was unstoppable. Not because she did not have failures or doubts, but because she continued on despite them.

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

Over the moon - I did it!!! Look at that medal!!!

My own logo courtesy of Anne
Dryden and Jude Beattie.
Good friends.

A tweet from my Ironman hero - Chrissie Wellington!!!!

Ironman Nails - Courtesy of lovely Lindsay Rutherford.

My armour!

A mile of the marathon for everyone
who has supported me this year.

My mantra.

Ready to go on a jet plane.

It's official!!!!

Jonny B and I :-)

True Story.

It really is….

Finishing straight selfie with Mum, Barry Taylor and Aidan Featherstone.

Miles of the marathon.

The going gets tough and tougher still ….

It's been a while… since my last blog.
So much has happened over the last few months, I'm not really sure where to start. I'm not going to do my usual (sorry) and re-count each event -to be honest I can't keep up with it all myself! This blog is probably the most honest account I have written to date- not so pink and sparkly as the others. I am not super-human and l have struggled to stay smiling recently- even with the aid of pink lipstick.

Life has been challenging to say the least and that's without all of the 15in15 Challenges thrown into the mix - but I will plough on with the determination and drive passed onto me by the inspiration for all of this - DAD.

It's very easy to forget just how far 15in15 has come in the space of 9 short months… since my last blog we have had the Great North Swim, QE triathlon (One event I haven't done), Ride London 100, The Great North Bike Ride (there and back for me) and coming up in 2 days and (1 year and a day after we lost dad) The Great North Run.

To be completely honest - I think I hugely underestimated how much of a challenge one event a month was going to be alongside training. Especially since June, there have been many long and enduring events which have taken their toll on my body. This year was never going to be an easy one - even with the determination passed on to me by dad - bodies get tired and in my case, my mind has also struggled to stay strong and endure it's own battles.

For the first time in my life I have struggled to keep a positive outlook on life. Whilst I'm aware that many, many people go through far more heartbreaking and horrendous challenges in their lives, loosing my dad has been the hardest challenge I have come across in my 32 years so far. The summer months have been long and I have found myself struggling for motivation - sunday was always a day I spent with my dad. We ran, we biked, we talked and we put the world to rights in the hills, on the beach and burning up the tarmac (well on the occasions we were going downhill). It's only now he's gone that I have realised that he was also one of my best mates (sorry if that sounds sappy) Without him decision making is much harder and things don't make sense in the way that they used to - He always knew what to say to put things into perspective. I've had to learn to look at life from a different angle and find new ways to spend what (for a time) were becoming very lonely sundays. I am finding a new kind of happy though slowly.

Things are getting better - there are still very dark days from time to time, but with some help from friends/family and someone impartial to talk to who can put a different perspective on things, my smile is coming back and staying for longer periods of time.

Often people ask 'should you be doing Ironman?!' - 'You must be worn out with all these events?!' - 'Have you taken on too much?!' - The truth is that I don't know - One thing am sure of however, is that without the release that cycling, swimming and running brings, I would be in a much worse place than I am currently. Yes I am tired, Yes I am ready for a break - but NO - I am not giving up on a dream that I have had, and been working towards for the last 3 years - Dad would not have accepted that and he would have told me to dig deep and finish the job. That's exactly what I intend to do.

The most special and overwhelming aspect to come out of this awful time, is the support Rach, Mum and I have received from our friends and family. Old friends, new friends and friends only made because of 15in15. It has made life better, richer and hopefully as a result of dad's legacy we have raised enough money so that someone else can be saved a little sooner and their family will get to keep their mum, dad, sister, brother, husband/wife for longer. Our current total stands at nearly 19k and this is something that always makes me smile on bad days. I find it impossible to process how involved some of our friends have become with our campaign - It's completely awe inspiring the lengths that people have gone to in order that we smash our target. For that I am hugely grateful and when I am old and grey it will still make me smile -teeth permitting- pink lipstick wearing.

I am a very different person to the girl I was 5 years ago. Loosing dad has made me stronger and weaker at the same time. People say to me all the time "You're mad' - "You're hardcore" - and the front runner and all-time favourite "I could never do an Ironman" - This is complete rubbish. I couldn't even run a mile without stopping 10 years ago. You just need a goal and a reason to believe you can do it. If you really want it, then it's yours for the taking. Never give up. Never let anyone tell you that it's not possible and more than anything remember… nothing worth having ever comes easily. If you want something you have to fight for it and I am fighting for this Ironman and for my smile back thanks!

My body is tired and so is my mind, my knee and neck are starting to object to hours and hours/ miles and miles spent pedalling up hills and pounding the tarmac - but I will not give up and neither should you. Without a doubt the Ironman will be the hardest and most enduring task mentally and physically I have ever (and probably will ever) do in my life, but I tell you what - one thing I know for sure, in amongst all the sadness and heartache of this year - When I run over that finish line on October 4th - I will not be thinking 'Why did I do that?!',  'I wish I hadn't done that!'  or 'I really regret the effort I have put into this!' - It's not been easy but every step has been worth it - That medal has my name on it!

Next time I write I will be in possession of my Ironman medal and hopefully my mind and body will be in good shape! I look forward to telling you all about the completion of this epic journey! That thought is one which never fails to keep me going - "Charlotte Woodcock you are an Ironman"!!! - Heart pounding at that thought!

Courage to Start - Strength to Endure - RESOLVE TO FINISH!

Love Lottie xxx

Here we go again - 70.3 Mallorca.

Second Time lucky.

Saturday 9th May 2015 I find myself once again on the start line of Ironman Mallorca 70.3. With 400 other ladies - It's 8.04 in the morning and I've been up since 5am - The Countdown begins. The pink lipstick is on and I'm ready for battle against the sea, the tarmac and the baking hot sunshine.

The music booms from the speakers but I'm in deep concentration this year - I couldn't tell you what the track playing was this time. In 2014 I could remember every little minute detail of the race build up, the sounds, the smells and every part of the atmosphere. This time I am 'In the zone'…I've got a job to do.

After months of training and hard work it's time to prove to myself what I'm really made of. I'm leaner and meaner and I am going to push myself harder than before to achieve something I've got my heart set on - A better time. This race has a lot to do with 15in15, but I'd be lying if I said that this year was not also about my time and being a bit selfish. I didn't tell anyone what time I had in my mind, but just that I wanted to get a PB - It was time to put this to the test.

3-2-1 - BANG! Off we go - The army of pink hats create a huge whirlpool of white foam as we enter the water. Arms and legs flailing all around me, heads and arms banging together, dragging each other down until everyone finds their own spot in the clear blue expanse ahead. I decide to stick to the same plan as last year - relax and stay as close to the buoys as possible. The shortest possible route and last year it stood me in good stead - apart from a few others have decided to take the same route this time. One other lady in particular has not practiced her sighting and is keen to weave left - right - left -right - Highly irritating. Time to use the elbows and find a clear spot ahead - head down I give a burst of speed and find a more comfortable spot. Just need to get a rhythm now. For some reason I am feeling a little anxious - my suit feels like it is tightening on my neck a little…I have a word with myself and manage to relax a little - this is after all, the first part of a day-long journey to the finish line. I finish the swim and managed to stay relaxed until I reach the beach and the exit point which led to transition. No Adam this year shouting ' Lets F@*k this shit up' However he was there in my mind! With a smile on my face  at that memory - I carried on my journey.

A 300m run saw me enter transition - grabbing my bike bag and taking a seat on the ground - stripping off my wetsuit to reveal my tri-suit and my team colours this year '15in15 - lets challenge cancer'  The team colours of Tony Woodcock - My Dad - the reason I started my Ironman Journey almost 2 years ago. Focus now Lottie focus….

I took a look around and I seemed to be reasonably placed in the field at this point, so I knew the swim had gone ok…now it's head down to find my bike and head out for the 56miles against the wind, sun and the open road. I was looking forward to this part…my trusty steed and I and some phenomenal scenery to take in.

Over the mount line and off we go - Thoroughly pinked up and ready to put the hammer down. The first 10k took us out through the beautiful town of Puerto Pollensa…along the seafront looking onto the crystal clear Mediterranean Sea glinting in the sunshine - It was breathtaking and as always I thought of Dad. Lets get this show on the road…the hill beckons and then the steep descent afterwards. The hill (mountain) was a 2000ft monster - not steep but relentless…but what the hill didn't realise was that this year I had undertaken the Allendale challenge as part of my mental preparation. I had Journeyed across middle earth to mount doom and reached the finish - I laughed in the face of the hill…I didn't for one second think I wouldn't make it and I even overtook a few people on the way up! Quite a few also overtook me to be fair - but not for long…the descent was coming and then the long flat road which leads back to Alcudia (mwah ha ha).

It was a hot climb, but the descent afterwards more than made up for it. I used my tips from camp (Thanks Tom) on cornering and descending, and before I knew it I was overtaking people…women and men. I was still cautious though…nobody wants to put all that training in to then fall victim to one of the hairpin bends. I felt confident I'd shaved some time off by the time I reached the bottom, but my hands were still like claws from holding on the breaks round each bend…still they would get a rest soon…time to get into my comfort zone and down on my tri-bars.

I am often ridiculed by friends and family (thanks Dad) for the size of my bottom…It is only recently that I have come to realise that it is a weapon of mass destruction (steady) on a long flat road. Suzanne Davies (my lovely tri-noth team mate and roomy) pointed out that the ergonomics of a large bottom work well in conjunction with the use of tri-bars. Maximum power can be achieved because of the position using the bars creates. I have never understood this until now - Bring on the long flat roads of Barcelona! This is where the fun really started…There was a headwind for much of the way back and I think many people were starting to struggle. I got my head down and got myself into a nice light gear and a comfy position- Gluteus engaged.  Slowly but surely the #chicking began…only the stealth bombers were passing me now. It was a GREAT feeling. Most of the women who passed me on the hill were now behind me and I was still feeling strong. I was careful not to overdo it, but at the same time I was here to do a job and the run was going to be hard no matter what happened now. As the race re-entered Alcudia, I did not take my foot off the gas until I passed the dismount line.

I took my time in transition to rack my bike, gather my thoughts and press the re-set button ready for the run. I asked someone what the time was and it was 12.30….about 4 1/2 hours…I knew I was faster than last year but not by a massive amount - despite the strong finish on the bike. The run was going to determine how successful this race was going to be for me. I knew I wasn't going to burn up the tarmac, but as long as I burned it a little bit more than last year - that should be enough…

I donned my pink Ironman visor to complement my 15in15 armour - now the real battle began. The heat of the day was already intense as I had expected. As I ran out of transition and onto the run it was time to make a pact with myself which I failed to keep last year. Barring any major disaster or injury, I WAS going to run all the way, but I would allow myself a walk through the aid stations to drink, cool off and re-set. That was it - deal made - only 13.1 miles to go before victory and another medal to add to the collection and hopefully some extra sponsorship for the 15in15 pot.

I hadn't seen any of my team mates thus far apart from a short encounter with Rich Jobson on the bike course - He was one of the stealth bombers going past me. I hadn't been long on the run when I saw Suzanne up ahead - she was flying…I couldn't help but scream out as always - she was having the race of her life and she'd trained hard. I would never catch her, but I had my own race to think about.

It was getting hotter and hotter…I doused myself in cold water at any given opportunity…using the aid stations to re-fuel using coke and water - it was a formula which had worked the previous year and it didn't let me down. What had let me down the previous year was my mental endurance, but this year I was stronger and I was determined that I would get a better result.

Along the way I saw many friendly faces - Marius, Rich, Suzanne, Rich and Leanne all passed by on the run - sometimes going in the opposite direction, but always we encouraged each other to keep going. We were all so close now…we'd survived the swim and the technical descent on the bike…this was the home straight to glory.

Our supporters - My Mum, Jane Jaffa Dungait, Shaun Branegan, Jackie Hudson and the lovely Sarah (Marius' partner) were AMAZING. I think being a supporter is often a harder job than doing the actual race. Worrying about everyone and waiting for them to return from the bike must be agonising…hours spent cheering, clapping and standing in the baking sun. Think the blow was softened slightly for Shaun by the consumption of 4 ice creams - well he is in training…isn't that right Ironman?! They were all fantastic and they kept me going along with all the other strangers who cheered out my name. If I had a pound for every time someone commented on my lipstick still being on that day - 15in15 would defo be at about 12k!!! Think I'll be approaching mac for sponsorship soon!

The second half of the run was HARD…it was getting really really hot and my mind was weakening, but I was not stopping…Between miles 7-10 was when I really struggled. I used all of the positive methods I had learned to keep to 'the plan' I had made for myself. Repeating my mantra helped a lot 'Courage to start, Strength to endure - RESOLVE to FINISH!!!! Keep going…pick a point on the horizon and get to that. I chipped off the final few miles by using all the positivity I had. By the last mile I was even overtaking people and encouraging the ones that were walking - What was going on?! I had made a plan and I hadn't given up! I was beaming along the last few hundred meters to the finish….I was sure I'd done a PB at this point … I ran along the blue tarmac path and onto the beach where the race leader announced "Charlotte, You are Ironman" - Boom! I was there. Medal round my neck, My mum was there to greet me just after the finish. I was so happy to see her. We thought I had done about 20mins faster than last year and I was overjoyed at this.

In the athletes village I met with Suzanne who had smashed her target to smithereens and come 20th in her age group in a huge field of athletes - In her first ever Ironman. Rich was already done, so all that was remained was to cheer in Marius. On the way out, I bumped into my friend Leanne who had done her first Ironman - we had a teary re-union as she completely overwhelmed me by saying thank you and that my blog had pushed her to enter the race. That really makes it all worthwhile - never thought I would inspire another person to complete an Ironman - seems crazy to me.

Marius ran over the line to thunderous cheers - We could now get ready to paint the town red after months of abstaining.

As the evening progressed I managed to grab a few mins to check my result. 7.05.32 - 34mins and 13 secs faster than the year before. I could not believe it! All the hard work had paid off. The best foundation possible for Barcelona - I was overjoyed! Think Irondad would have been happy with that.

Big Thanks to Chris Waugh, Andy Stevens and Paul Jones from F4l for coaching me to this PB. Head down now for 4 months. I WILL be a full IRONMAN come october. That medal has my name on it.

To be continued……


COURAGE TO START, STRENGTH TO ENDURE, RESOLVE TO FINISH > BRING IT!!!

Love Lottie xxx

Team Tri-North

Lovely Leanne and I.

My Mantra 

Suzanne the Superstar and I.

Ready to paint the town red.

This Girl Can…and will!

Goodness me…where have the last few months gone?! They say time flies when you're having fun…that must be the case!

Team 15in15 have had 3 events since my last blog and let me tell you…they have ALL been a CHALLENGE. I have to keep reminding myself that we have actually only done 4, and the total fundraising already stands at nearly 9k!

After the excess of December and an extremely Challenging 11k on New Years Day, it was head down into training and time to start shaping up for the rest of the events. The nutrition plan and the structured training must now be adhered to, otherwise there's no way I would manage to complete all these events and an Ironman in October - no time for anymore slip ups…time to get serious (well as serious as I can be)

The 20th February saw the second of out 15 events, The Woodcock Wander. This turned out to be way more successful than we ever anticipated with over 120 people turning up to walk over the Simonside Hills. Young and old came together in a spirit that dad would have been proud of - battling the winter elements to complete 6 miles over the snow covered crags. All were welcomed to the finish with a cup of tea and a delicious slice of cake - thanks to some lovely volunteers. There have been a few dark days since we lost dad in September, but the Woodcock Wander was a shining example of people coming together in the face of adversity to support each other (well to support us really) I feel incredibly lucky that we have so many people who think enough of us and our dad, to brave the wind and snow to complete the distance. We are lucky girls.

By March training was well underway and the excess Christmas pounds had started to fall off with ease…I say that…but training is never easy. It's usually 7 days a week for at least an hour a day….and more at the weekend. However as the coach keeps reminding me…I am training for Ironman! My times at the track started to tumble too…As the weight dropped so did my 200m times…From the start of January - end March…I dropped something like 20lbs and 20secs off my 200m time on the track. The spring was back in my step and the days were bright and happier again. I never thought I'd be so happy to smash a 200m time…but having these small goals help me work towards the ultimate finish line in October.

The Wednesday night track girls are the most lovely bunch of ladies I have ever come across and of course there's our coach Chris, who puts up with our constant gossip each session (gold star for Chris)…Although I was now faster over 200m…The Kirkley Hall half marathon now loomed. I was quite frankly terrified of it…Then stepped forward Sue Smith, Carol Parry and Sarah Hunter. Girl Power in force - we will run it as a troop they said (Insisted)…I immediately felt better and the decision was made, we would do it together. The race itself was a hard one (as most runs are for me) The conditions weren't great (wind and rain) and the course was quite hard and hilly. We battled our way around the 13.1 miles…I was really struggling but the girls didn't let my head go down…they sang, they gossiped and joked. They got me over the finish line…think I'd still be there now if it wasn't for them. THANK YOU - I will never forget it!

The start of April welcomed some better weather and also the F4L training camp! This is what I had been waiting for all of those long winter months…the promise of a week in the sun pedalling, paddling and plodding. This makes it sound like a holiday - I can confirm that this was very much NOT the case. A colleague mentioned the word "bootcamp" ahead of my departure… 'It's not a bootcamp"…I said…how wrong I was.

I flew out on Sat 4th April alongside some of my good friends who are also coached by F4L (you know who you are)…there was a feeling of excitement and anticipation amongst us all…what did the coaches have in store for us?! A bloody lot of hard work is the answer to that question. I am pleased I was unable to see the schedule before we left, otherwise I think I may have wimped out. It was hardcore to say the least. Most days had at least 3 sessions with a mix of swim, run and bike (sorry if I state the obvious).

We arrived around lunch and we had a quick hour to turn around before we were directed along to the pool for an 'easy' session… it was nice to meet everyone, but F4L does not do easy sessions…it does however get results. The pool swim woke us all up and gave us a chance to meet everyone who had flown in for the camp. Most of the athletes were from the uk, but we had 3 who had come from Dubai! Says a lot about the standard of the coaching!

Our first bike ride wasn't long (25miles) but my lord…it was the first time I had ever ridden in a group. We had a group of 20, with two parallel lines of 10 either side. You literally ride about 30/40cm's off the rider's wheel in front and 30cm next to the person on your arm - it's pretty nerve wracking the first time you ever do it….especially when you've been up since 4am! We rolled out through the town of Sant Jordi where we were staying, negotiating the cobbled streets and local kids on bmx's…how I didn't fall off I'll never know?!… the concentration was immense. Once we got out of the town, the road opened up and we were out in the beautiful Mallorcan countryside. Immediately I started to think about how much Dad would be enjoying this and how lucky I was to be here. The outing involved a stop at a cafe renowned for it's cheesecake…having only just arrived, I didn't feel like I'd quite earned the giant doorstop of strawberry flavour heaven that some of the others were tucking into (I did have some later in the holiday though). I passed and had a coffee…if only I knew what was coming…I'd have had the cake at the start too!

I don't even know where to continue with the camp…The coaches packed so much into our week in the sun (and even managed to book the sunshine) Highlights for me were…Randa- A gruelling 1700ft climb with spectacular views over the Mediterranean Sea … just as I felt like giving up, a bend came that gave a little teaser view over the valley and the ocean beyond … without fail when I see a view like that, it makes me think of dad and the reason why I am doing this. The view at the top was spectacular and the team spirit was even better…the stronger athletes coming back down the mountain to encourage the weaker ones to keep going.

My first 100 miler - getting lost in Palma and cycling through multiple lanes of traffic was highly entertaining to say the least (well done to the map readers for finding our way out) I'm still not sure how we found our way back, but we were at 98.5 miles when we reached Sant Jordi - You know you're a bike W@*ker when you keep cycling round the roundabouts to get up to 100miles! Well we weren't going to get all that way and not go for the century! It was a great feeling to complete the distance with some lovely friends…Go Team 100!!!!

There were so many other lovely moments with individuals on the trip…too many to name…but overall I'd say that again, sport brings people together. Some of the days were very gruelling but everyone encouraged each other to keep going…if you got dropped off the back of the bunch, there was always someone stronger who would fall back to give you a wheel and a tow you back to the pack. I had a few occasions like this and it restores your faith in human nature. I'd like to think that although I was one of the weaker athletes, that I helped keep someone else going when they were struggling. It's all about PMA (positive mental attitude) and there was a lot of this at camp. I will never forget it (apart from the last night - after too much wine) and it has made me mentally and physically stronger for Ironman…the brain is the most powerful tool. Just wish the old boy could have been there to enjoy it too! Thanks so much to Andy Stevens and Paul Jones for organising such a great trip.

After a boozy last night in Mallorca and a narrowly caught transfer…I caught my flight home to Newcastle. I'm going to be honest…I did not look like an athlete….I had a stinking hangover and I needed bed. I did however have a nice tan and a smile on my face from some good memories made at camp. This was enough to get me through the flight home and the women next to me who was shuffling a pile of euros in her hand for the ENTIRE flight home! My patience has reached a new level recently - PMA and all that….

The next day was the Allendale Challenge. In the spirit of honestly…I had again MASSIVELY underestimated the task ahead. Sometimes I think it's not a bad thing that I take things on without thinking…Allendale…not so much… I wish I had given it more thought. We were up at 5.30 for a 6.30 departure. This was not welcome after a skinful of gin and to be honest I think I was still a little drunk (I am really not a drinker). My eyes were burning in my head, but the mood was positive with Team 15in15… We would complete this challenge and tick number 4 off the list! GO TEAM!!!! We met the rest of the guys in Allendale village hall and had a quick snap outside before we headed off into the Allendale Hills - I'm so glad we didn't know what was coming.

What followed was (on paper) 26 gruelling miles over open moorland, peat bogs, swampland and hills - It was actually more like 29 miles. I genuinely felt like a hobbit (minus the hairy feet and big ears) journeying through middle earth to reach Mount Doom. There were times when morale was very low amongst the team…I tried to use my PMA training from camp to lift everyone's spirits…My roommate (Cristina) and I had frequently (no idea why) played the Spice Girls 'Spice up your Life" to motivate us before hard sessions…I thought I'd treat the 15in15ers to a rendition out loud…I got to the part "All you need is positivity"…my next step plunged swiftly downwards and before I knew it I was waist deep in a peat bog. The rest of the team were highly amused at this and so was I, however I was stuck fast and it took a three man chain to dislodge me from the mire, like a giant turnip I eventually popped out covered in mud. So glamorous I was at that point - pink lipstick makes everything better.

The boggy Lottie incident happened around half way round…I wish we could have had it nearer the end to keep us all going. The second half of the challenge was so tough. I have done a few endurance events now, this was by far the hardest in terms of mental toughness. It was just never ending…when you thought you were nearly there, there was another corner, another hill, another bog. The only thing that kept us going was each other. We sang songs, recounted stories and sometimes we were silent, but we did it all together. I am so proud that we ALL finished it…we were weary and sore by the time we reached Mount Doom (Allendale Village Hall) and I think it's safe to say none of us will ever do it again - what an achievement though… the t-shirt is actually quite nice, although I couldn't bring myself to look at it for the first few days! Up yours Allendale! We beat you!!!!

Phew…that blog was almost as long at the Allendale Challenge. Hope you're all still awake! Thanks so much to each and every person who has supported me over the last few months. The dark days are few and far between now thanks to you lovely supporters and friends. Life is good and the challenges fall as the sponsorship rises! IRONMAN here I come…I will take you on and I will conquer you! Courage to start, Strength to endure, Resolve to finish. My new mantra and one that Irondad lived his life by too! Miss him every day but grateful that he started me on this journey! BRING IT ON!

The Lovely track girls.

Team F4L

Post 100mile bike ride selfie.

My rookie Cristina and I (JUANITA!!!)

Delicious re-fuelling

Last day - on the front!

The pool - oh how I miss it already.

The highlight of the Allendale Challenge.

A fitting tribute to an Irondad…

It's been months since my last blog and as most of you will be aware, last year was one of the hardest we have faced as a family and on a personal level a huge battle to stay positive and keep smiling - but we press on. Loosing dad has left a huge hole in all our lives and we miss him everyday - he is never far from our thoughts. Cue 15in15.

Soon after loosing dad I decided that I couldn't just wallow about being miserable, dad would not have wanted that and also it's not in my makeup to be maudlin. Dad always taught Rachel and I to keep smiling and think positive - it was in that Spirit that the discussions began about what we could do to gain a positive out of the horrendous situation we found ourselves in.

On a bike ride one Sunday we started discussing fundraising ideas. Loosing dad has made me as a person more determined to get the most out of my life, my relationships with people and my achievements. Ironman 70.3 last year was a physical and mental battle, which took me over the finish line to a feeling of elation and £3000 for the Alnwick Hospice/Sir Bobby Robson Foundation. It was a huge Challenge in which I faced self-doubt, illness, pain and then at the finish line huge elation. I remember sending dad a photo just after I finished with my medal round my neck - He said he had never seen me look so happy and told me how proud of me he was. This was just the start… Back to the bike ride….With 2014 on the way out, we were now looking towards 2015 and hopefully a better year for everyone. I told Rach that I wanted to do a full Ironman and she said I was mad, but then that's a pretty standard response nowadays (followed by 'I could never do that'). We got chatting, whilst pedalling and Rach said she wanted to get on board too, maybe not with Ironman, but with other events which were more attainable yet still challenging for her and possibly for others too. We decided on one event a month to begin with and then swiftly moved on to 15 events for 2015…15k would be our sponsorship target for Pancreatic Cancer UK - 15 events varying in difficulty and that included everyone whether they be challenging themselves to get fit, or super fit already (I am in the first bracket BTW).

We needed to recruit a crack team of loyal supporters to help us with all the organisation, as it was going to take a lot of organising. Mum was on board instantly and then Jane Dungait, Olivia Clerey and Angus McBryde (goes without saying) were added in to the mix, closely followed by Andrew Lees who knows half of Northumberland!
So that's it - We decided on the 15 events and came up with the campaign name "15in15 - Lets Challenge Cancer'

Here I go - In October I was struggling to get my energy levels back up again…It's only now I'm feeling better that I realize that stress effects you in so many ways, most of which don't even occur to you at the time. I was so tired all the time, struggling with motivation and just couldn't seem to get going. Last year my training wasn't what I needed it to be at all, I needed some proper recommended advice and a programme to follow. Enter Paul Jones and Andy Stevens at F4L coaching. These guys know their stuff…recommended by three of my friends, I knew F4L was the place to go. I quickly learned their mantra "stick to the plan" … the plan (along with determination) will hopefully get me over the finish line. Paul sends me a programme each week which is usually a session a day and some longer sessions at the weekend... swim, bike and run with a bit of strength and conditioning work thrown in for good measure. It was hard going to start with, as I hadn't done much at all while dad was in hospital, but once I got the first few weeks under my belt, everything started to get a little better.

In addition to F4L I was introduced to the lovely Chris Waugh at Morpeth Harriers and embraced by the lovely Wednesday night 'track ladies'…you know who you are…I am still at the back of the pack, but I'm getting faster -  come rain, shine and even snow, we are there on a Wednesday night turning out the laps together…Poor Chris is often subject to a lot of gossiping (he loves it really).

Starting over was hard…but I can't tell you how much better I feel now, four months down the line and into 2015. I'm slowly building up strength again and everything is improving…the excess pounds I put on when dad was poorly are now falling off without much effort at all and that all helps with the speed.
I feel like I'm finally coming out of the darkness and that's thanks to sport and all of the lovely people who I've met in the last few months with a sprinkle of dad's fighting spirit which has been passed on.

On January 1st Team 15in15 had their first challenge. Morpeth 11k road race. It was a hard race and pretty hilly for the first one of the year. The headwind was brutal and as usual when it comes to running, I found myself at the back of the race. I pushed on up Mitford steads…I was going at a snails pace but I was going! It was a fast club race and I was very relieved to see the finish line - Thanks to Alan who ran the last half mile with me! All the Team had waited for me to finish and it was lovely to see them all - it set 15in15 off with a bang! GO TEAM!!!

Since January it's just been head down and into training…My next event with team 15in15 is the Woodcock Wander at Simonside. This is very special to all our family as it's where dad's ashes are scattered and we have spent many hours running up and down the tracks which lead to the craggy summit. Dad will no doubt be smiling down on us and feeling very overwhelmed at the amount of people who are pledging their support and their hard earned cash.

Well…if you're still with me (I know that was a long one) I'll be blogging again soon with my training updates and hopefully some good stories from the upcoming 15in15 events. If I have learned one thing from last year it's that you must keep going and stay positive. I had many dark days and still do from time-to-time. By far the best remedy I have found to feeling down is getting outside, getting moving and meeting new people who are like-minded. Slowly the smile has come back on my face and as long as I have sport I know I will be ok no matter what life throws at me.

Love to Dad as always…Until the next installment…
Lottie xxx

Getting to Game Day….

Wow …. What a Journey…

I'm sure most of you reading this will know about the emotional turmoil I went through trying to get my passport back in time to make the journey to Mallorca. MASSIVE lesson learned and I will never be sending my passport away again…unless I have at least 6 months to spare! After allowing nearly 5 weeks to get it back, a glitch at the Belfast passport office saw my passport lost in a pile of papers and with no indication of time frame for return. It was without a doubt one of the most stressful situations I have ever found myself in…months of training and thousands of pounds raised could potentially have been lost, to a straightforward passport renewal.
A last ditch attempt saw me travel to Durham passport office on Thursday 1st May to plead for help…This request was met by a stoney faced reply…basically 'The computer says no'… I was completely exhausted after hours of phone calls, tears, tweets and pleading with a voice on the end of the phone…my last resort had reached a dead end. There was nothing more to be done…I made a tearful phone call to my sister (support team) and we discussed that there was a strong chance that I probably would not be going to Mallorca. Nobody from Belfast was returning my calls and it was just brick wall, after brick wall.
I was completely devastated. I sat in my car looking at the River Derwent on that grey rank day, tears running down my cheeks (sorry to be dramatic but I was gutted) The dream was over.
I made the long drive back to work and composed myself to complete the rest of the days work- all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and shut out the day.
Then a glimmer of hope - After being back in the office for a few hours, I finally got a phone call from Belfast. It was the actual examiner and he had looked at my application - it was approved! FINALLY!!! He said he was putting in a request to have it fast tracked and I should get it back Saturday!!! The relief was overwhelming - There was a chance that it would all be ok….and a good chance that Triathlotte would make it to Ironman. I waited for the postman with bated breath on saturday morning. I hardly even dared go to the bathroom in case I missed him! He arrived around 10.30 so my agony was over reasonably quickly that day, and I have NEVER been so pleased to see him. He said it was nice to make someone's day for a change as opposed to handing them a bill.
THANK YOU to everyone who tried to help me with suggestions of help, people to contact and tweets  when the going got tough - you know who you are!

Wednesday 7th May - Crisis averted - Time for the off.
4am the alarm went off … Usually I would not relish this kind of wake up call, but strangely I was wide awake before the alarm even sounded. After all of the ups and downs, twists and turns of the Ironman roller coaster, it was finally time to pack up my stuff and jump on the jet plane to Mallorca (you know the song - ask Iain Katz to give you a rendition if not). Scotty hauled himself out of bed at 4.30 to help me pack my stuff into the car and drop me off at the airport, after a quick cuddle he wished me good luck and saw me off into the airport with my team mate Adam. Marius ("now then") and Iain were already waiting at check in - looking bright eyed and bushy tailed despite the early start. We checked in our luggage and our precious bike boxes and made our way up to the departure lounge where I was informed it 'was law' to have a pint before leaving Newcastle Airport. After deliberation a glass of prosecco was approved and savoured over talks of training, nerves and excitement surrounding the event. A group of people who ordinarily probably would have never met, brought together by one common goal - Ironman 70.3. There was a great vibe and we were all very excited (and nervous) to arrive and see what the fuss was all about.

We arrived in Mallorca around Wednesday lunchtime and after a hassle free transfer we were dropped at our apartment just in time to dump our stuff and get a good feed - well apart from me who chose salad and was reminded for the rest of the holiday 'fat girls eat salad' - ha ha ha…good job I am easy going, a girl could get a complex. They were right though…I was starving about 5 mins later - that was the last salad I ordered on the trip.

Bike mechanics are not my strong point and thankfully I had 3 experts on hand to put my bike back together again (thank you) - Scotty had taken it to bits - note to self - must do a proper bike maintenance course so I understand how to do it myself. After lunch we made our way up to our sun terrace where the boys set about putting the bikes back together. Not a bad way to spend an afternoon in the sunshine - talking about bikes and drinking beer - not the diet of an athlete, but we were here to enjoy the experience and a few beers wouldn't hurt. The rest of the day was spent sunbathing and chatting over the next few days of preparations, before heading out for dinner and a few more beers (only a few).

Thursday 8th May - Support team arrives!!!!
After a reasonably early start we had a short swim out around part of the Sea course which we could see directly from our apartment (Thanks to Craig Gair for the recommendation) followed by a spot of breakfast and a little 20mile leg spinner on the bike - just to keep ticking over and because we were in Mallorca - a triathlete's paradise!
After nearly two days with the boys, I was starting to feel like I had inherited 3 brothers (lovely ones)…It was great but I was also looking forward to a little bit of female company. Re-enforcements came in the form of my sister Rach and the lovely Katie McBryde (sister from another mister) … it was lovely to see them! After spending the afternoon rubbing shoulders with a top chef in Palma, they arrived fully relaxed and ready to be our A class cheering squad. Myself and the boys went down to registration where we received our registration pack, number, wristband(which I have only just taken off) and a lush IM 70.3 rucksack - which I will tell you about later. After registration we went down for dinner and a few drinks, all the while soaking up the scenery and the atmosphere in Alcudia - which was now like an athlete's village.

Friday 9th May - Nerves starting to build.
Friday morning we had been advised to stay off our feet as much as possible to keep them fresh for race day. In the morning we headed along to transition to check in our bikes and hang up our transition bags - Blue for bike and Red for run. There were some amazing bikes and some equally impressive physiques…Anyone with any hang ups about their body could feel very uncomfortable with the amount of 'Barbie and Ken' look-alikes going about.
I had been warned about this before we left for Mallorca by my friend Stevie from tri-club. I took his advice and wasn't intimidated by them skipping along the beach front the day before the race - cramming in a bit of last minute posing - sorry running - the day before the event. I would concentrate on my race and my training - instead I would perv (technical term) on their bikes and dream of a day when I might be fast enough to warrant buying a Trek time-trial flying machine - obviously it was pink and worth about 5k…but a girl can dream right?!
For the rest of the day we mainly carbo-loaded and rested up. After months of training it was lovely to sit in the sun and do nothing. The only worrying factor was the heat…it was in the high twenties and the temperature seemed to be climbing by the hour…great for sunbathing, but my mind was turning to the run - my weakest discipline and after already completing approx 5 hrs of exercise tomorrow. I had to stay calm and carry on. It would be fine, I had come too far to worry now. We had our final feed of paella, pasta and pizza around 9.30 and ate enough to feed an army…we needed all the carbs we could get. Tomorrow we were going into battle with Ironman 70.3, we needed all the strength we could muster. Good night, God bless - Tomorrow it's time to face 70.3 miles of blood, sweat and blisters to take us to our finish line.

Saturday 10th May - Game Day.
After a restless night's sleep and an over friendly mosquito (who had kindly made his mark 29 times on my face) I was glad to get up and get some fresh air. The brothers and I made our way back down to transition to check our bikes over one last time and deposit our gels and food ready for a day spent out on the Ironman 70.3 course.
I left them tinkering with their bikes (this is not a euphemism for something else you dirty things) and I made my way back up to the apartment to awaken support and gorge myself on a breakfast of brown toast with peanut butter and nutella - I took a massive risk as I had never tried this in training. I have since found out that this is the IM breakfast of champions…although Adam Rowe still maintains that Coco pops can not be beaten! I'll leave them to you Adam.
The race day regime was in full swing - breakfast, bathroom (sorry to be gross, but anyone who does triathlon knows this is an essential part of the race and I am no different) Nobody wants a Paula Radcliffe moment on race day - vaseline up, wetsuit, goggles and hat - not forgetting timing chip on the ankle otherwise you get a DNF even if you finish the race! I had enough bother with those earlier in the season!!! NOT forgetting that race day essential for Triathlotte's - PINK LIPSTICK!!! Now I am ready to race…my hat is even pink!

8am - The Start -  I was the first off and the boys would follow in the later waves. Rachel and Katie accompanied me down to the start line which was buzzing with nervous energy, excitement and hundreds of supporters bustling around. It was the biggest mass start I had ever been in. Quite a spectacle to behold…700 women all wearing pink hats, lining up on the start line ready to embark on their own journey and the 70.3 miles ahead. I was so nervous and emotional. Months of hard training…thousands of pounds in sponsorship … and overwhelming support from so many people. It was all about to come to a head. I said an emotional goodbye to my sister and Katie and I can still hear the words 'love you, so proud of you' - every time I think of it my eyes well up. You can't describe the feeling you get and the things that go through your mind at that time…at this point I started to think of dad and the reason I started this journey in the first place. Cancer…Up yours Cancer…Pull yourself together Triathlotte…It is your day… Enjoy it. I took a deep breath and composed myself with Chris Martin ringing in my ears and the lyrics to Viva la Vida, the gun went off and I ran into the water to start - and finish - My Ironman quest.

The first few hundred meters were pretty brutal, as you would expect when 700 people enter the water at the same time and are swimming towards the same buoy…I got a nice hard boot in the cheekbone which smarted somewhat, but pretty standard in OWS…I found my place in the shoal of swimmers and then I started to enjoy the experience. I felt relaxed and comfortable…the salt water and wetsuit combo makes you very buoyant and it felt so smooth swimming along in the warm waters of the med. I felt very lucky to be there amongst those other triathletes…many of whom were also taking part in their first ever IM event. If they could do it then so could I.
My nerves had almost completely disappeared by the time I got to the end of the swim course and I was now in complete 'race mode' concentrating on the path ahead and amazed the first section was over already. Apparently my swim was 37mins…a good time for me considering I had hardly done any swim training beforehand. Adam had about 20mins until his wave started and I was greeted at transition by his over-excited face and expletives "Go Lottie…Lets f*** this S*** up"- He later admitted that he forgot where he was, but I was glad because I was off to a flier and I was also now laughing my head off!!!
The wetsuit shuffle move took me into transition to pick up my gear for the bike course and deposit my wetsuit/swim bag into the mountain of others before heading out onto the next stage - 56 miles of smooth tarmac and the small matter of a 2000ft mountain to climb. This would be the longest continuous climb I had ever done. Transition seemed to go on for miles and it was about 200 meters before I got to the mount line. There was a suggestion by Brian Sheil that my T1 (transition 1 time) of over 8 mins was due to the re-application of lipstick - Ironmen do not have time to re-apply lipstick Brian - even ones who love pink lipstick.

The first 12 miles of the course were very flat, so I took the opportunity to try and put the hammer down a little and get my legs spinning…after about 6 miles I heard the dulcet tones of captain Katz…we exchanged wishes of luck for the race and with that he was gone in a flash…like a stealth racer…head down, teeth gritted - a flying machine. The scenery was breathtaking…even though I wanted to do my best time wise, I also wanted to enjoy the day and savour those precious moments which would make the race unforgettable. I looked out onto the med, sun shining on Pollenca bay and felt immensely    lucky to be part of this event. It was then when I started thinking about my dad again and imagining how much he would be loving it too if he was cycling alongside me in the sunshine - hopefully later on this year we may get to enjoy some cycling in the sunshine together. This thought spurred me on again…Yes I had a long way to go, but how many people in the world got chance to experience the feeling of this in their lifetime? Not many would be my guess…The road was full of cyclists…no cars..just us and the open road - and my dad in my mind for company :-) Race you to the finish dad!!! haha!!!

When I got to the base of the mountain, I saw my first casualty of the race…a girl about my build sitting in a ditch with blood all down the side of her head and arms…it was awful…an ambulance was on the way, but a feeling of immense concentration came over me. Imagine if your event was over in a flash like that - it wasn't about the time for me - it was about getting to the finish line and collecting the pot of sponsorship money. I got my head down, I focused and I picked a spot on the horizon and ground my way up the hill until I got to that spot…then I picked another spot and so on(Thanks Lee Tait)…many of my great friends from tri-club (so many to mention) gave me advice running up to the event and this was some of the best I had. As well as a poem from Michael Morrow which I had stuck in my head that was keeping me going…all I had to do was keep going and I would get there. I reached the top of the hill and I was well within the cut off time - barring any major incidents I was on track to make the finish within the cut off time - In Ironman, if you don't reach the cut offs - you get removed from the race and you don't get your medal. This was my worst fear. Having a major blow up and not getting to the finish before 5.30pm would have been devastating after months of training and planning, but I was on track!

The Climb was long and every meter I climbed the temperature rose higher…it was pretty hot when I reached the summit and I had already drank nearly 2 litres of fluid…I was ready for another feed station to top up my hydration levels. The downhill from the summit of the mountain was very technical…I would like to consider myself a reasonable cyclist, but the hairpin bends were not for the faint hearted. I saw about 3 people off the side of the road within the first 3 bends…again this focused my mind onto taking it steady and not falling off. By the time I got to the bottom there was a smell of burning rubber and my hands were aching from holding my breaks on so tight. I was still going though and it was now time for the smooth tarmac of the Mallorcan motorway which had been closed around Alcudia for Ironman. There were a few twists and turns here and there, but mostly…smooth and silky tarmac stretching ahead. I was excited!!! Even the best roads in Northumberland are nowhere near like the roads in Mallorca! I got down on my tri-bars and started picking off athletes one-by-one…there were still people going past me too, but I was also making up ground. I felt like I was flying along this road - I was putting in a fair bit of effort, but the conditions were ideal and making it much easier to make up time. I passed one guy who was looking slightly demoralised 'Oh no, did I just get chicked' - sorry mate, you did….see you later. He would probably come past me again on the run/shuffle to the finish line anyway…but it was a minor victory and I think it made me worthy of the #yougotchicked t-shirt which I would receive at the finish (thanks sis)….After nearly 4 hrs out on the bike I was ready for a bit of company again…despite the encouragement on the course from other riders it would be nice to see a familiar face. I had so many people shouting 'come on Northumberland' or 'come on Charlotte' going up that hill though - Ironman spirit is truly amazing.

The Run course was the part I feared most…I decided to walk rather than run through transition to get the feeling back into my legs. It was a break that I allowed myself to collect my thoughts and my muscles to go onto the run. I was still feeling strong, but I just needed a little time to focus on the next stage. I sat down and put my trainers on, chatting to an irish girl as I did so - it was her first 70.3 too and she was also nervous of the run. We wished each other luck and went on our way. It was 12.45... Only 13.1 miles to the finish line and all the good things which came as a result of that…Stay calm and focus now Woodcock.
I set off on the first loop of the run at a reasonable pace, but it was bloody hot.
There were thousands of people lining the streets in Alcudia…waving and cheering with shouts of encouragement and positivity…a group of girls from Yorkshire 'you're amazing Charlotte - you're nearly there' - I clearly looked wrecked but they made me smile and kept me going. I'd worked out that by now I was going to make the finish line…even if I had to walk all the way, which I would never do.

I missed my sister and Katie on the first loop, which is understandable when there are 4000 other competitors. I ran most it but walked through the feed stations to re-hydrate and drench myself to keep cool - If I overheated it would be game over for me. I knew this from past experience running. The heat was getting intense and I was starting to struggle massively. Thankfully on the start of the second loop I saw 'support' It was hilarious seeing them run alongside me on the beach waving Northumberland flags and phones about in the air trying to take photos - 'nearly there Char, you're going to do it, you're nearly an Ironman' - oh here come the tears again….a quick hug and I composed myself to continue on my journey - 2 laps to go - just keep moving.
I managed to time the second lap much as the first…and even managed a few high 5's with the boys across the central reservation of the closed road on the way! It was great to see them and it definitely helped with morale - everyone was finding it hard. Even the 'Barbie and Kens' of 70.3 were struggling and starting to walk a little. I got to a point near the end of the second lap - I knew I would finish but my legs were starting to feel crampy. I was not really enjoying it and forcing myself to keep running was making it worse. I resolved to pick a point in the distance and run to that….then walk a little and take in the atmosphere….then run again to the next point.
'One more lap to go Char, so proud of you…nearly there'!!! I walked and ran the last lap, and it was very slow, but I kept going….I got to the last feed station which was about half a mile from the finish…I started jogging and I didn't stop…when I rounded the corner and saw my sister at the finish I knew that was it. All the finishers had to ring a bell when they were on the finishing straight…Rachel was on the phone to Scotty when I ran through and nearly dropped her phone she was so excited…Katie managed to swill herself with coke too in the finish frenzy…I ran over the line and threw my arms in the air…eyes filled with tears of happiness…I had done it  and I heard the loudspeaker 'Charlotte Woodcock you are Ironman' - What an amazing feeling that was. Someone hung a medal round my neck and all I wanted was a hug from the support sisters… It took me about 10mins to find my way out of the athletes village and reach them. It was such an amazing feeling to be done and I was greeted by hugs and tears and excitement that I had made it. I was then handed my '#yougotchicked' t-shrt. I wouldn't buy it before hand incase I didn't finish the race - but my sis had got me it anyway ;-) I was beaming by now and excited to see the boys who had all finished ahead of me. 7hrs 39 was my final time…never going to be the winner, but a million steps ahead of the fat girl on the sofa who gorged on take aways and cakes! She could never catch me now!

We reconvened in the brothers apartment and were met by hugs and smiles although everyone was looking a little jaded. We had all finished and were over the moon! It was the end of the journey for now and time to celebrate our achievement…after we packed our bikes away ready for the flight home tomorrow.

By the time we got out for dinner we were all pretty shattered, we didn't have a massive session but had some lovely food and a few drinks while we dissected the day, Ironman and whether or not we could go the full distance. Marius announced that he would be going on to the full and Adam agreed that 'one day' he would do the 140.6 miles it takes to become a full IRONMAN. I was not ready to commit either way at this stage. I just wanted to enjoy the feeling now.

The messages and sponsorship while I was away were OVERWHELMING…. so many lovely people wishing me well and sending sponsorship. I can not THANK YOU enough!!! You have all made my experience even more worthwhile and special. We even got a 'shout out' on the plane from the crew wishing us congratulations for completing the event! Not sure who was responsible for this, but it was really canny.

Sunday 11th May.
Home time -  I was sad to be going home and I would miss our little IM group and my new brothers…but I was excited to see my loved ones. We had a big lunch planned at the local pub and I couldn't wait. Scotty picked me up from the airport and the girls went on ahead to the pub. I hugged the brothers goodbye and Scotty and I made our way to the pub. Well not without him insisting we went home first…I couldn't quite understand why until we reached a huge congratulations banner over the gateway and a lovely little present to say well done. It was good to be home :-) We met everyone else at the pub and we spent the afternoon drinking fizz and catching up with friends and family…more presents and cards - Ruined.

So … it's all over… for now… or is it?! The thing with 70.3 is - it's not actually the FULL Ironman…It's hard for sure…really hard…but now there is a nagging in my head that will not disappear until I at least try to get to that 140.6 mile finish line. It's definitely addictive - I can't believe how much my life has changed since I discovered triathlon. The people I've met have been truly inspirational and it has rubbed off big time.

To the people who say "I could never do that" my reply would be "How do you know if you don't try?" … I didn't think I could ever run one mile 10 years ago when I was sat on my sofa eating rubbish and now I have completed a 70.3 Ironman… you might not do it right now, but as long as you have a goal, you will get there eventually. Just…keep….going. One foot in front of the other , one pedal after the other, one arm pull after the last...and you will get there. Last weekend I met Chrisse Wellington who is the Ironman world champion - she signed my Ironman 70.3 bag and it made the event even more special to me…She gave an inspirational speech on how she made it to become world champion. Her words were "Never ever give up"…"When things get tough, you get tougher"…this is so true. You can find it from somewhere within you if you really want it. One day I will be a full 140.6 mile Ironman…this is my goal…I WILL get there…by hook or by crook!

If anyone would still like to donate details are as follows….www.justgiving.com/triathlotte2

Definitely not the end of this blog, but Ta Ta for now and THANK YOU again to everyone who has supported, sent messages, cheered and donated. Thanks to my dad, mum, sister, Angus, Katie, Scotty and Steven who have shone a light when I was on the dark side…helped me get through tough training sessions….re-assured me when I doubted myself and offered childcare so others could support me. I am eternally grateful.

For now… Love Triathlotte xxx

Tri North Represent at IM Mallorca 70.3

IM 70.3 Finisher!

It's official!!!

Ironwomen trucker

Ironmen truckers...

Bike porn.

Bike wanker

Home time complete with our t-shirts

Pink wave start (I'm in there somewhere)

 Swim start

Transition

Sisters :-)

Meeting Chrisse Wellington - I just told her I was thinking about full IM.