How do you react when things don’t go your way? Here’s the brutally honest account of Dan’s experience of doing the Ultraman UK 515 ultra distance triathlon this year in Snowdonia.
It will be clear as you read it that this would not have been an easy race report for Dan to write but, in true Dan style, he pulls no punches, makes no excuses and gets on with it. Instead of accepting the situation he looks for what can be learnt from what happened and how this can be used to grow and be better next time. We learn more from hard times than we do from the good. Armed with a new perspective and a renewed hunger, Dan will be back wiser and stronger.
The Beginning
The road to 3 long days in Snowdonia started on the IM Barcelona course in Oct 2022.
The flattest, fastest, ‘easiest’ IM course I had raced. I was going to PB it and complete it in sub 12hrs. Nailed on. In reality, I dragged my sorry ass around Spain taking an hour longer than the previous 2 IM, in more discomfort, more cramps, and more difficulty than previously. I did it, but I asked myself why? Why had the season up to it not felt ‘right’? Why had riding in Spain training been such hard work? Why was I plagued with punctures, mechanicals, injuries and a general feeling of not being ‘on point’? I trained hard, but sessions seemed harder than normal.
The honest answer? Complacency.
I had done 2 already, this was just a thing that would ‘happen’ right?
So what do you do when you’ve had a disappointing season, where you feel you were too comfortable in yourself, too arrogant about your own ability, too sure of yourself?
You make yourself feel uncomfortable again. You sign up for something that you cannot fathom, something that seems so huge it hurts to think about it. Something that keeps you awake at night.
You sign up for Ultraman UK.
Day 1 (10km Swim, 90 mile bike)
So that’s how I ended up standing on the edge of Lake Bala on a fresh September morning. Mist covered the lake but turning into a blue sky and calm waters. All the pre-race talk had been shrouded in concern by others about cold water and wearing extra gear. In reality, the water was perfect.
I settled into a steady rhythm and started ticking off the laps. I sat in the middle of the field and felt good. My stomach seemed a little ‘off’ and I decided that my usual entertainment of laughing to myself as I made air pockets travel up my wetsuit from bottom to top was too risky and Fergal Sharkey could end up having a twitter rant about my water pollution…… After the swim, I found that those that had shared pizza with me the previous evening had tag teamed into the toilets whilst I swam….
With only 2 short stops to fuel, the swim was done in exactly the time I predicted in my head. A quick shower, change, fuel and off I went on the 90 mile ride. Random shout from Josh and Mrs Josh in the middle of nowhere as I rode past made me feel glad to have people that give a crap in my life.
The ride seemed to whizz past. I felt comfortable and tried not to ‘push’ it too much, knowing what the next 2 days held. The sun shone, the roads were kind, and the hills were ridden. Slightly weird to pull into the finish area for there to be an unmanned tent, a flag and not a single person there………. I ate well, courtesy of others, slept sporadically and woke very much ready for ……
Day 2 (170 miles bike)
This was the one that had been in my head from the moment I signed up. 170 miles in under 12 hrs with a few bumps on the way. The one where I feared the cut off, the one where I questioned myself, the one I repeatedly did the maths about average speeds, fuelling, pit stops, sweat, cadence, watts output and how many hills there were.
As we set off in the cool morning, Jon and I rode for a bit but he had a clear strategy of his own. He wanted his own pace. He usually goes steady whilst I spin off like a muppet. As I went ahead onto the first mammoth climb, I started wandering when he would go past me. I focussed on my own ride.
Amazing hills, amazing views, amazing support from my crew. The temperature crept up early on and stayed at what seemed like microwave level for the whole ride. The hills in the Spanish heat weeks earlier gave me reassurance.
About two thirds of the way in, out of nowhere, appeared the most ridiculous climb. Now, I’m not afraid of a climb, in fact I get a perverse kick out of them, but this one just seemed like a behemoth of all climbs. The heat, the gradient, the relentlessness.
Efficient and effective stops made possible by my efficient and effective team. Listening to my beloved Warrington Wolves beat Castleford passed 2 hours. With about 20 miles to go, a wall of fatigue hit me. Jon caught me and went past. The last section had some brutal rolling hills and climbs. I got to within 10 miles of the finish and stopped at the top of a climb where my crew where waiting as always. Happy, motivating, supporting, brilliant. But I felt pretty screwed. I had a moment where the last 10 miles seemed insurmountable, but I got it done.
That night, ice bath, I ate again, but was struggling to really get much down. Very thirsty but not easy to take liquid. Headache. Sleep was appalling.
Day 3 (52 mile run)
Looking back, there were signs that I had got something wrong. I had a blinding headache, I couldn’t eat and was reluctant to drink, but I knew desperately that I had to.
I felt focussed and at the moment truly believed I was going to cover the 52 miles within the time frame.
Miles 1-13 – After running with Jon and another racer, I picked up Dani and then a changeover to Ollie and went up and over Pen-y-pass. Pleased to tick the first quarter off in circa 2h 10m. On plan.
Miles 14-18 – Things very quickly started to feel ‘off’. The headache that had never left me since the previous evening intensified. I wanted to drink. I needed to drink. I couldn’t drink.
Attempts to force food down went badly.
Miles 19-26 – With Matt by my side, I knew I had to dig in, I knew I had to pick the pace up. 
However, the walk/ run became more walk. Matt urged me on, but my legs deteriorated with every step. Emotional visits into bushes at the roadside, vomiting at the side of the road, chunking sandwiches onto Dani’s feet and not really caring that to do such a thing was fundamentally pretty gross and unacceptable, vision deteriorating, culminating in me collapsing at the side of the road in a drainage ditch in the middle of nowhere. Merciless heat relentlessly pounding my head. Vaguely recall a passing car stopping and asking if I was ok. I can still see the concern etched on their face. Then, the most bizarre thing happened. Both my calves started cramping like I have never seen. I saw ‘waves’ pass through each calf at the same time, pulsating, like fireworks going off under my skin, like 3 tennis balls in each calf spinning wildly. I had never had pain like that……….
Matt- ‘what the f£$k is that!!!!!’
Me – ‘I don’t know, you’re the f%&king medic!!!!!’…………
Miles 27-31.7 – I knew I was done. I knew it was over. I knew 52 miles was not going to happen. But I couldn’t bring myself to accept it. I remember thinking I had to get past 30 for it to class as an ‘ultra’ run.
On a lonely road 3 miles outside Bedgellert, my crawl/ walk came to a stop. I physically couldn’t move my legs. I couldn’t walk. This was not a decision to ‘make’ anymore. I wanted to call my Dad but couldn’t get any phone reception.
I looked at Ollie and he said ‘it’s time dad’, and I knew it was.
No one in my team had mentioned me stopping until this point, although it had been etched on their faces for the last 2 hours. They knew I had to make that call myself. This was despite what was clearly genuine concern for my health. 
Pressing the ‘stop’ button on my watch was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in the field of sport. Getting into Dani’s car. Seeing race organisers and them knowing I’d stopped. Seeing Jon on the brutal climb that I didn’t get to. Seeing his face as he realised I was done. Knowing I had no choice but to go to the finish line and see the finishers.
Knowing I had to go and smile and be respectful and congratulatory. I wanted to disappear forever.
Analysis
Why did that happen? I have spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about it.
Undertrained? Poor nutrition? Wrong kit? Heat stroke? Weather? Mentality?
I think a combination of all of those apart from the last one.
The People
Training/ racing can be fundamentally very lonely. You train a lot by yourself. You make decisions about your path by yourself. But what you realise is that such a big part of what we do is about other people. Both in terms of giving and taking.
The Fairhurst clan, Robertson’s, Vicky, Josh, Mike and Michelle………….. Having these fellow athletes and friends turn up and seeing them on route is so very special. That people care enough to turn up is something quite incredible. Thank you. Everyone in our amazing club that I train with, that offer help and advice and words of encouragement.
Martin P-H, his words before and after, from a person of his stature both on and off the ‘field’, are so very much respected and appreciated. The people that turned up that weekend. The people that shared the house. The people that cooked, the people that spent the evening providing company. The Shaws, Donna, Jason. Everyone played their part.
Shaw and I have trained a lot together, we’ve shared triathlon journeys together. He’s an amazing friend. Only he could get away with appearing from nowhere and shouting ‘you’re not f&%king done until I say you’re done’ at me whilst I was in a heap at the side of the road covered in all kinds of bodily nastiness and questioning my very existence on earth………
In Matt, Dani and Ollie, I couldn’t have asked for 3 better, more dedicated, more selfless, more understanding and more amazing people to be by my side that weekend. I literally had to focus on nothing other than moving forward. The feeling, the words, the loading of vans, the looks, the taking a sweaty backpack off me to carry, the preparation, but above all, just being there and knowing they were real, that they genuinely gave a shit about me, about what I was doing and they wanted it for me. Matt and Dani are athletes that I admire and respect so much. I look up to them. For them to give themselves to me in so many ways means more than I can say. To share such an experience with my son is something
so special it will stay with me forever. To have him there at my ‘finish’ on that Sunday was perfect. The mutual respect in the team……… 
Jon is one of my closest friends. To have shared this journey with him, once again, was very special. The long rides, long runs, cold dock swims. Most things usually unsaid, but always absolutely understood. I went to the finish to see him succeed. I am so very happy he did. Genuinely. I feel little or nothing for the other finishers and perhaps what I do feel is
negative. Not Jon. I can still see him putting his finishers t-shirt on for a photo and then quickly taking it off again. Why, because I was there. That’s Jon, right there. Thank you for your coaching and above all, your friendship.
Family is everything. I can’t disappear for hours on end, early in the morning, late in the evening, spend weekends out of the house, in the garage, hours on holiday up in the mountains on my bike, without their support. I am proud of them. I hope I make them proud.
Reflection
Anyone that knows me will know that I will consider this as nothing other than a failure. I set out to complete a task and I failed to do that. It’s the only race/ challenge where I have ever not crossed the line. It has hit hard. The last few weeks have been very tough. Waking in the night with very clear visions of moments from the weekend and an overwhelming sense of failure.
Writing this has not been easy and I even think there was some dust in the air at one point.
But, this is the essence of life. This is the essence of racing. You can’t simply achieve absolutely everything you embark on. If you do, you are not challenging yourself enough. Failure brings greater growth than success. Failure fuels greater determination than success.
In many ways, I wouldn’t change a thing. I loved every minute of it. I have got so much out of it emotionally, physically and mentally. It’s made me hungrier. It’s made me better. It’s made me stronger.
The distance will get done………….
