Julia’s Man - Scotland 70.3
Tuesday, June 18th
Two days since I completed my Florida 70.3 triathlon.
The flight to Edinburgh left Orlando airport at 10pm Florida time. Ruari was a trooper staying up late and was happy to sleep on the flight. Me, not so much.
We landed around 11am on Wednesday, UK time. My dad picked us up to drive the 3 and a half hours north to Forres. Having lived in Edinburgh through university, I love the sense of homecoming I feel driving on the A9 into the highlands - but this time, without Julia, nothing felt familiar or comfortable.
Ruari was content with the cooler weather and the mountains, and my nervous system was feeling a sense of calm I hadn’t felt in a considerably long time, but a hollow feeling remained.
On the drive up, we took a detour to Lochindorb, where I was planning to do the swim leg of my 70.3 the next day. With a wetsuit borrowed from my neighbor Frat, two swim caps and gloves, I awkwardly walked a couple dozen feet in knee deep water and over larger stones trying to get to a place where I could swim in the loch. I slowly acclimated to the temperature of the water, but the wind was blowing in from the North and the surface was choppy so it was hard to get my breathing and sighting together.
It would be calmer, brighter weather in the morning, I reassured myself, and we carried on home. Not before Ruari grabbed a handful of Scottish stinging nettles.
Thursday, June 20th, 2024
It’s 1am and Ruari is calling out in discomfort. Traveling had made him constipated and when he finally did go to the bathroom, it had left him pretty sore. At least it was still relatively dark outside and I managed to settle him down.
It’s the summer solstice - it will be the longest day of this leap year - and that relentless Scottish summer dawn came quick.
At 2am, he’s awake again but now it’s getting light outside, 3am and he wakes but is quick to settle before he’s up once more at 4am like he’s on some 1 hour timer. I planned to start the half-ironman a little later in the day than Florida, but the Euros were on and we wanted to be finished by the time the England game was on.
It is deliberate that I chose to do the 70.3 on the solstice. On June 21st 2021, the Summer Solstice, Julia had her second gross total resection of the cancer that was growing in her brain. I have a video of us doing yoga in our living room (these were still pandemic times) and Ruari, then just 1 year old, was running around us and playing between our legs.
You could not tell Julia was sick or suffering, she was full of life, love and joy, and in good shape. She never took what she had for granted.
Now it’s 2024, and I’m struggling to stay awake as I drive with my mum and my brother Tom to Lochindorb.
They pumped-up an inflatable kayak borrowed from my mum’s friend Fran, and I squeezed into the borrowed wetsuit and started to splash around in the water. It took them so long to figure out the kayak that my dad and his friend Warren had arrived with our bikes ahead of schedule.
Lochindorb - 1.2 mile swim
The water was calm, the sky was mostly blue, and I set off unceremoniously.
I started to swim towards the castle that sits in the middle of Lochindorb at a steady pace, barely kicking my legs to save them for the rest of the day.
The water is tremendously dark, as I move forward I can’t see my hands in front of me. Every time I turned my head to breathe I was hit with such a startlingly bright blue sky, then plunged back into cool darkness again.
I could feel myself drifting off, eyelids heavy, my body wanting to sleep; the cold loch water on my face wasn’t enough to rouse enough adrenaline to feel alert - I was suddenly aware how risky the fatigue and jet lag was going to be.
Then there was a tightness in my armpit, as though the wetsuit was just a bit too tight around my shoulder and bicep, that started to ache. I could hold my arm straight but it was beginning to tingle with numbness, and everytime I pulled back for a stroke I could tell it was getting worse.
But I was only 10 minutes into my swim and I hadn’t yet reached the castle.
The water around the castle was shallow enough to stand, I quickly tried to pull at the wetsuit to see if any space could be given to my shoulder, but everything was too tight and I decided to just keep swimming.
It was fun to swim right by the castle. I chose this place purely because I thought it would look cool, and I was right. I timed my breathing so I could always turn to face the ruins.
The rest of the swim passed pretty quickly for me. Despite the discomfort in my arm and feeling close to sleep, I was finished feeling pretty calm and as though I was slowly starting to awaken.
I finished the swim in 41 minutes 28 seconds, but the water was so shallow 50 feet out from the shore, I had to hold onto the kayak as Tom paddled me the rest of the way in.
The Bike to Forres - 56 miles
The cycle took us south down the length of Lochindorb before turning North through Dulsie and Clunas and up to Nairn on the Moray Firth.
All these roads were new to me, I’m glad I had my dad and Warren join me for the cycle because I had no idea where I was going. They could warn me about hills and bends and junctions, and point out potholes and obstacles on the road that I was too half-awake to notice.
And there’s nothing more intimidating than riding a borrowed bike (thanks Dougie!) as you’re bombing it down a hill close to 40mph and you’re not sure where that bend in the road is going to take you - and you realize you haven’t really tested the brakes….
Because we started up in the hills at Lochindorb, the cycle to Nairn was mostly downhill, with really beautiful countryside scenery that reminded me I was home.
The fatigue was real. Despite a very comfortable and fast pace (set by Warren) I could feel my eyelids closing still. I was fueling every 45 minutes with gels for the carbohydrates but also, mostly, for the caffeine.
The two veterans offered to make a detour to a cafe if I was in serious need of an espresso or three but, as tempting as it was, we pressed on - at this pace, we were in for a decent time.
From Nairn, we went east and took the back roads to Broom of Moy, passing ancient standing stones in random fields before crossing over the River Findhorn. We cycled just north of the actual town of Forres and towards Kinloss, with a quick detour up to the village of Findhorn just to take in the view of the bay. Findhorn, the bay in particular, is a place that was special to Julia and to me, and we passed the Bakehouse, where me, both my brothers and all my close friends have at one point worked. Then went back through Kinloss further eastwards.
These were all roads I knew well. We passed the army base that once was home to the RAF and where my dad was stationed. We passed the Kinloss Golf Club and went almost all the way to Roseisle before turning south, and then south west in the direction of Rafford, the village where I grew up.
As we started to arrive into Forres, it was clear the cycle was going to be about a mile longer than planned - no worries. We cycled up round the back of Cluny Hill, passing the Forres Golf Club, and came back down the other side of Cluny Hill into Grant Park, where my grandparents, Tom, mum and Ruari, and my friend Neil were waiting for me. (Or for ice cream).
56 57 miles in 3 hours 6 minutes and 47 seconds
The Run to Sluie - 13.1 miles
Neil joined me for the run. He designed the route from Grant Park in Forres up to Sluie and back into the town.
Ever since Julia died I’ve facetimed Neil almost every day but this was the first time seeing him in person. For the reunion to be at the transition of a low-key backyard half-ironman was relatively awkward.
Luckily for me, Neil had just ran the Edinburgh half marathon a few weeks prior, so he was in good shape to pace me for this leg of the triathlon. Although I was feeling pretty comfortable, I had learned from the Florida 70.3 not to go out too fast, so we went at a comfortable pace past our old schools, up Sanquhar, and then onto the Dava Way.
Mile 1 - 9 minutes 13 seconds
Mile 2 - 9 minutes 34 seconds
We came off the Dava Way at Dallas Dhu Distillery and crossed the road into the woods at Altyre. The pace slowed a little to 10 and 11 minute miles as we followed trails up to the new campus for The Glasgow School of Art which, when I still lived here, was a derelict Italianate steading from the 19th century, but it had since been renovated to suit the design students.
Neil had parked his car at the art school and stocked it with water and snacks. We were going to run a loop from here to Sluie and along the River Findhorn, and we could stop at the car again on the way back into Forres.
We talked about grief and the meaning of dreams. Brushed the ticks off our legs and arms after running through overgrown paths of ferns and tall grass.
At our second pitstop at his car, I was convinced a mouth full of Skittles would do me good, that the sugar would be just what I needed to finish the last 4 miles.
It worked.
I was already content that I was running this entire part of the triathlon, all I wanted out of finishing this 70.3 was to finish strong and not as though I would keel over, which is how I felt for most of the run in Florida.
Mile 11 - 7 minutes 41 seconds
Mile 12 - 7 minutes 46 seconds
Mile 13 - 7 minutes 36 seconds
We finished with a short sprint down the hill to Sanquhar Pond. I felt proud to have finished it so strong, relieved that my journey of two 70.3 triathlons in one week, one in Florida, one in Scotland, was over.
We ran the half marathon in 2 hours 3 minutes and 31 seconds
The half-ironman took a total time of 5 hours and 57 minutes and 05 seconds (excluding the time for T1), 50 minutes faster than my Florida 70.3 four days earlier.
(And we made it back in time to watch England draw 1-1 to Denmark).
You can find the routes and stats on Garmin at this link.
