On the 14th June 2026, Terrie made her Ironman debut at the Tours Metropole race in the Loire Valley.
Terrie had a very clear WHY for doing this event and this is her account of the event and all that went into preparing for it. Get comfy as it’s a great race report.
The Why
My reason for doing this was simple.
My beautiful friend, Lorna Foulkes, was recently taken from us far too soon by sarcoma. Even while going through unimaginable suffering herself, she was determined to raise awareness of the symptoms so others might avoid what she endured. Selfless right to the very end.I wanted to take on a challenge that reflected, in some tiny way, the scale of her courage. Nothing I could do would ever match what she went through. I knew that nobody was going to read months worth of posts about me doing a 5K. So, naturally, I signed up for a full Ironman. As you do!
https://www.justgiving.com/page/terrie-johnson-3?utm_medium=FR&utm_source=CL
The Team
I was genuinely nervous about sharing accommodation with people I barely knew, especially people with achievements that made mine look like I’d won a school sports day egg and spoon race.But I couldn’t have asked for a better group.
The banter was relentless, the support was amazing and they managed to make me feel welcome despite my endless questions.
Huge thanks to Emily, Iain, Martin, Paul, Sam and Simon and it was lovely to meet Jack, Sarah, Jack’s mum and Milo too.
I learned a huge amount about training, technique and nutrition but most importantly I learned never ask anyone to weigh your banana!
The Swim
An early start.
The atmosphere around the lake was entertaining before we’d even started. People were slipping, belly-flopping, bombing into the water and generally providing free pre-race entertainment.
Ironman swimming is less “graceful aquatic athlete” and more “washing machine with occasional accidental sexual assault.” At one point I somehow ended up with my hand somewhere it definitely shouldn’t have been.
At mile two both calves and ankles cramped up. I had to star fish until the pain receded. I thought that was the end of my experience ……………… but it wasn’t!
The Bike
Absolutely stunning: French villages, beautiful countryside, châteaux and locals sitting outside their houses cheering complete strangers all day long.My feet, however, were less impressed. The balls of my feet felt like they were on fire. Every pedal stroke sent another intense wave of pain through them.
At several points I questioned whether my feet would survive another mile, never mind another hundred. But by then I had invested too much time, too much training and too many early mornings to stop. Stubbornness took over. Every time my brain suggested easing off, another part of me simply replied “No f*********** way!”
The Run
Cruelty should be defined as making Ironman athletes run past the finish line three times while listening to other people being told “You are an Ironman!People later told me my run was perfectly executed. That was news to me! All I was actually doing was chasing the cut-offs.
The first lap was slow because my legs appeared to have disconnected from my brain. There seemed to be a significant delay between issuing the command “run” and my legs agreeing to participate. Bambi on ice was more coordinated.
By lap two things improved and I settled into my brand new race strategy of: 50 steps running and 20 steps walking.
By the final lap I knew I needed to increase the pace. So I switched to: 60 steps running and 20 steps walking. I couldn’t mentally count to 60, it was just too much, so I resorted to counting to 50 then counting to 10. Elite tactics! I took out my photo of Lorna out of my pocket on lap 3 and carried it with me.
With the temperature hitting 40 degrees, running past all the people swimming and relaxing in the Loire was particularly character-building.
As darkness fell, I found myself running alone along the Loire being serenaded by frogs, alone, feeling tired and vulnerable.
Then I heard a voice: “Come on, there’s no time to walk!” It was Paul Johnstone. Having already completed his own Ironman, he had cycled back out to find me and cycle me in. Such an incredibly kind thing to do! He made sure I drank, took my gels, kept moving and, most importantly, didn’t feel alone. Jono, you’ll never know how much that meant to me. Thank you!
The Finish
I only truly believed I was going to finish when I entered the building and saw the clock.The finish bell was broken, which felt a little unfair after 140.6 miles of effort. But then I heard the words: “Terrie, you are an Ironman!”
Heroes Hour was unbelievable. Around 50 people lined the carpet waving flags and cheering. It was incredible! Then, because apparently Ironman likes a final joke, both calves and ankles cramped solid with about one metre to go. One metre. Not ten. Not a hundred. One!
I nearly fell, was fortunately caught and ended up hobbling across the finish line looking less like an Ironman and more like a pirate with two wooden legs – my legs had already submitted their DNF paperwork
But across that line I went.
Special Mention
A huge thank you to Emily Astley. After having a really tough day herself on the bike, she still waited six hours to cheer me home and make sure I got back safely. That level of support deserves a medal of its own. Thank you!
The Bigger Picture
From start to finish, this was an incredible experience. A huge thank you to Jon Fairhurst for his coaching. I nicknamed it “Care in the Community” because he needed the patience of a saint and the organisational skills of a military commander to get me anywhere near race-ready.
The support from Total Transition coaches and members (especially Julie Cullen, Victoria M E Moody-Smith, Christine Evans, Libby Shaw, Sam Mayer, Shell Moss, Anne Pritchard-Howarth, Melissa Fairhurst) was amazing.
Thank you to my lovely friends Sue Austin and Anne Collins for their unwavering support with training (especially open water swimming) and advice. They all believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself, thank you!
An incredible journey from start to finish!
