Tri795 Sprint Triathlon 2012 – Registration open

We are delighted to announce that Tri795, our annual sprint triathlon is open for entries. This is an ideal triathlon for beginners and experts alike. Find out more.

Duathlon Training Session

John Dempsey, Brian Many Hats O'Shaughnessy and Martin Mimnagh at the 2011 Cross Country Seniors

Tom Hogan added another Wexford County Senior XC title to his tally in Ferns last Sunday. Congratulations to Tom from everyone in Racing795.

Racing 795 was ably represented in the challenging 10km race by John, Brian and Martin pictured above. 2012 could be a big year for some of these lads in XC and on the mountains so watch this space.

More Photos

Brilliantly produced by our new friends at Highwind Films.

Champ Lorraine with the coveted trophy

Congratulations to our new Club Champion, Lorraine Byrne. The result was announced at the Racing795 end-of-season party in Ferns last Saturday night. Lorraine was presented with the Championship trophy by last year’s winner, Rudolf Brinkman.

Lorraine threw herself wholeheartedly into competition this year, competing in no less than seven triathlons as well as mountain bike and running races. Lorraine is a regular participant in training sessions, league races and other club activities. Even when not competing Lorraine is always on hand to help out. All-in-all a very popular and deserving winner.

Runner-up this year was Frank Burke, with PJ Dunne in third place.

Club league prizes were also presented at the function. Joy Furlong picked up the 2010-2011 Winter League trophy, while Summer League honours went to the team of Frank Burke, Joy Furlong and Brian O’Shaughnessy.

Don Morrissey was presented with a special award in recognition of representing Ireland at the 2011 Pontevedra ETU Triathlon European Championships.

John says…

Great running out of Brian O’Shaughnessy again, the man just cruises up hills like they’re not there.

We arrived in plenty of time and the three of us, me , Brian and Bernard Fortune headed off for a warm up run. Made three mistakes; firstly trying to keep up with Bernard, secondly trying to maintain conversation with Bernard, thirdly deciding to head up the first big climb during our warm up… with Bernard. The man is a savage, top ten finish again.

I was happy enough to come home within a few minutes of last years time, Shaughs actually improved on his and pulled off a fantastic 21st place.

€7, great race, snappy results, soup & sandwiches in warm pub afterwards, hopefully a few photos posted up today / tomorrow – couldn’t beat it. Powerscourt really is a fantastic race.

Brian says…

If you do one run next year make it this one! It’s a 16km natural assault course with 950m of climbing over a beautiful part of the wicklow mountains. There is also a short course.

This is caveman running! All sorts of terrain, fire road, mud paths, bog, slippy grass, rock, streams, and sleepers. You go from climbing on all fours to tearing down tracks faster than you think possible.

Got 4 nice slaps coming down from Djouce. Passed four middle aged hikers on my arse with a sheet of water spraying up from under me! Thankfully nothing but pride hurt. Great feeling coming down the home straight and a course you could run ever week and still enjoy it.

There are all sorts at these IMRA races and generally an easier going and better atmosphere than road racing. One old fella in the over 70s class (yes there’s a over 70s section!) had a bum bag not for his gels but his pipe! Smoking away on it before the race. €7 for a really well organised race, results online within hours and soup and sambos afterwards. Their website is one of the best and most functional websites in any arena you’ll come across.

Results

Well done to Joy Furlong, Peter Coulahan and PJ Dunne who all ran last Monday’s Dublin City Marathon. Here are their stories…

Joy

Well it was with great plans and great optimism that PJ and I left Bunclody on the morning of Oct 31st, positive chat and energy abundant in the car. We had a game plan and were definitely going to get each other round. Our plan was to go out with 3.45 pacers , PJ’s role was to get me up the hills and I would get him home. But, like all great plans…..

We arrived in plenty of time to get organised, or so I thought. Got gear sorted etc, then mistake No 1. I joined the masses of people in the q for the loo and PJ went to drop our bags and that’s were it started to go wrong, I didn’t see PJ again. Once out of the loo it was a scramble to the start line and the crowds were massive, corraled into a lane way I thought nothing for it only to ever so nicely push through these people, PJ had to be found … Out of the lane into more masses, spotted the purple 3.45 balloons up ahead and tried to make my way to them , jumped barriers, waded through people, climbed up on barriers, (for a higher view as I’m quite short) ignored workmate, all in vain PJ was not to be found. Settled myself some way behind the 3.45 pacers but at least I could see them.

And so we were off, it was very congested at the start and really right the the way through the park before it spread out a bit. The atmosphere was electric and the crowds cheering were fantastic from start to finish. Every inch of the road was lined with people fair play to them. I was seriously impressed. Working off my garmin for pace I ran comfortably and on target for the first half, a couple of testing parts i.e. avoiding the scrums at the waterstations, dodging bottles from people like myself with bad aim, one or two hills and the long drag up to the half way mark. All the while expecting PJ to saddle up beside me! Went through the half on time but the negative thoughts started to creep in. Doubting Thomas. Way too early for this and found myself digging deep to remove these thoughts. Soon enough I could see the purple balloons moving further away, at about mile 15 I decided that 3.45 was not going to be for me. The reality was very disappointing, so now it was plan B, get home and any improvement on time a bonus. I ticked off each mile, literally taking it mile for mile, found it to be a long lonely road even with the crowds. The only familiar face was David before I took on Roebuck hill , he definitely gave me a lift as the garmin showed a good pace, lots of walkers and me running past the lot of them. A different story on Foster’s Ave, could feel my left calf tightening and was sure it would cramp. Ever so slowly I shuffled up that hill, thinking to myself do not walk like so many around me but just before the crest I gave in and walked ( my mantra to PJ going up in the car was no stopping to walk, however slow keep moving) literally for the count of 20 steps and then into the rythmn of running again. I was not to be defeated. That was one of my slowest miles but the power of positive thinking is amazing, the pace was picked up and I clocked two good miles after this. The last couple of miles I found hard, although passing lots of people there was also lots passing me. Here I saw people hurting really bad, I was baffled at how you could let your body go so bad. Seriously, don’t ever under estimate the marathon, because on the day it takes all sorts of prisoners. My last two miles were by far the slowest and to be honest I was concentrating so hard at just getting over that line I really didn’t get to enjoy those last few special moments.

Relief was immediate on crossing the line, a very tough day at the office. Why it did nt go according to plan is the burning question. All the hard work did not pay off as well as I had hoped but it was a PB nonetheless, 3.52.41, a six min improvement so going in the right direction. Got in just before that torrential rain came, but due to slow shuffle to find my gear bag I was soon soaked. No rest for the wicked as my marathon continued, it was to the car at snails pace, huge effort to bend myself into a sitting position and the road home for trick-or-treat time for the kids.

I still haven’t seen PJ!

Peter

4.24! As slow as my last IM marathon. I  started off behind the 3.45 pacers and within 2 miles knew I was going to have problems. Slowed down and hit the halfway mark in 1.55hrs but was really struggling. Got slower and slower and when the 4hr pacers passed me I just gave in. I walked most of between miles 17 and 25. Got overtaken by fat aul ones and people in fancy dress. To cap it all off,  it was peeing down for the last 3 miles. Overall a horrible day out.

After swearing off ever doing any long distance stuff again on Monday evening here I am on Wednesday about to register for the Hardman IM again, I just cant resist the cheap entry fee.

PJ

As Joy said the journey up to Dublin was all positive and full of planning.

The plan was simple and maybe that’s why it didn’t work!

Out with the 3:45 pacers Joy , Peter , James(a friend from work) and myself.

Great plan for me anyway I thought, as all the above have marathons under their belts already.

Yvonne dropped us at the Mespil Hotel and a quick walk down to baggage drop area.

As Joy said we then lubed up and generally readied ourselves for battle.

Plan disaster 1

I dropped our bags to the allotted area and Joy went to the ladies!

We never saw each other again (still haven’t!)

After a quick look for Joy and also trying to locate my friend James with no luck I headed off to the green zone.

I got as far as the alley way and had to wait there for the starters gun.

Plan disaster 2

I couldn’t even see the start line let alone the 3:45 pacer balloon.

While waiting in the alley I spotted Gary from the Ray D’Arcy show. The guy who lost the 12st and who was planning on walking the race. Respect by the way.

How far back was I ??

The gun went and out we came of the alley……. I was about 40 mts behind the 4:00 pacer.

I decided to try and catch up to Joy etc

Passed the 4:00 pacers in the first mile and was slowly gaining on the others.

The closest I got was 50mts from them but I felt I was going to hard so pulled back the pace.

Saw some supports in Chapelizod and that gave me a boost.

Was still on target at 13 miles but the next 7 miles were painful my right calf felt like it was going to cramp at any minute and my right knee was really sore.

David F gave me a boost at 18.5 miles.

Somewhere just after heartbreak hill I saw Eamon Tilley who ran across the road to give me 3 triangles of toblerone (God bless that man)

It must of worked because I did the last 6.2 miles in 49:30!( according to tds timing)

I must admit I walked twice up two short steep bridges.

The last 385m of the marathon was not the joyful experience I was hoping for but more about getting to the line.

As sore as I was feeling running, the 10 mins of pain after the finish will take a few weeks to forget.

Race plus 10 mins = never again

Race plus 24hrs = when’s the next one!

Finish time 3:54:23

Well done to Joy and Peter.

In my ignorance I had being asking experienced marathoners silly questions like “if I’m feeling good with 10km to go do I push on” How I can laugh now

 Dublin Marathon Results

Aisling Foley was the winner on the day and is the early series leader. No doubt the handicapper will be out to get her next time.

Ross Moorhead had the fastest gross time, covering the 18km on his agricultural touring bike at an average speed of 35km/h. Very impressive in the conditions.

A notable absentee from the race was Frank Burke who, to give him his due, had a decent excuse. He cycled from Bunclody to Galway during Saturday’s monsoon!

Round 2 takes place on 20th November.

Results

Photos

(What I did this summer by Fergal “Feral” Kelly, aged 36 and three quarters)

1.9k open water swim, 1k run to transition, 83k bike ride featuring 2 category 1 climbs, half marathon. But first for the challenging bit… getting my bike on the rack before 6:45am.

I am not a morning person. A lot of ye perverts seem to enjoy going training and racing and being up and about at 6 in the morning. I do not. In my extensive preparation for the race I had not acclimatised my body to hours of hardship first thing in the damn morning. I did however discover that a few years ago some dude got disqualified from The Lost Sheep for marshal abuse. I was almost disappointed when it turned out that I got the bike on the rack in time and got the flock out of the transition area without incident. I even went back in to avail of the little boys room after 7am. Still no incident. Those marshals have really got to learn to be more assertive.

On to the start area. A feckin kilometre away. Standin around waitin. Standin. Waitin. Getting cold. Lookin stupid on a pier. Race director observes my race technique is to not enter the water until the very last moment. Race director is informed that I do not have a race technique for open water triathlon swims. Race director notes my race number and makes mental note to not leave the bay until my body had been recovered.

Race start – front crawl – face froze – after some very skilled manoeuvring on my part, “I got out of heavy traffic”. On with the breast stroke. No idea what it’s like up the competitive end of the swim, but tis gas down the back looking at lads going diagonally over and back the whole length of the course. A huge advantage of breaststroke is you can see em comin into your path and burst the sh1te out of em with kicks and boxes. Breaststroke has a much wider assault radius, so there’s feck all chance of em hittin you back. Raa Raa Ree, Kick em in the knee, Raa Raa Rollox, Kick em in the other knee.

Stan Laurel (of Laurel and Hardy/Felix and Unger [Oscar?] fame) had advised me you’d need at least 3 litres of water on board. Sorted. Drank the stuff like a fish. All I needed was gills. Another fine mess you’ve gotten me into.

Dunno whether it was the aqua-karate or scissor kickin in a wetsuit or what but the inside of my left knee began to hurt. After the second buoy it was face her for home – home being the white gable end of a house. Had to change to front crawl on account of the knee. About 40 strokes later, I looked up. I was going at right angles to the house. No-one within an asses roar of me. Back to breast stroke. Ow. Except now I had no-one left to kick. Or box. The boredom. Just me, myself and I. “What has you here?” “Swimmin” “Me too” “Me Too” “Lovely day for it” “Tis” “Lovely” “So where are ye from?” “Bunclody” “Jaysus what a coincidence….” Thank feck we ran out of things to say to each other before we got back to the slipway or we’d have looked fierce stupid getting out of the water. Cos we didn’t look stupid in the wetsuit at all. (See incriminating photo, link below) Thank feck there were 2 strong fellas at the slipway to help me to my feet. Legs like jelly. Observers noted other swimmers being helped to their feet on the slipway and just falling off the side of the slipway.

Slow transition. 1k run didn’t help. Very cold extremities didn’t help. Rootin through bags for stuff didn’t help. The thoughts of 2 mountain passes probably slowed me down the most though.

Made sure I didn’t have a TT chainset on the bike. Well actually I didn’t – but I meant to check. It’s the thought that counts. Was expecting to get blown all over the shop on the bike, but the weather was relatively calm. Not flat calm, but definitely nowhere near as bad as it could’ve been – what with the remnants of hurricane what’s-her-face last week. Despite being way down the field at the start of the bike, 3 fellas passed me in the first 5k. Oops. Not good. Overtook my first bike shortly – they were punctured. First of many punctures. Slow n steady up the Healy pass.

Which reminds me – the Murphy family crashed and were stuck in their car when along came the Healys and the Balls. Thankfully the Murphys were dragged from their car by the Healys.

Meanwhile, back in the saddle… At the top of the Healy pass I was on the steep top 200m 13degrees and next thing I was over it. Not a patch on Corrabut. Nice descent though. If only. If only for a few small things. Balls. The tarmac was wet. The bends were very tight. My tyres were balder than Stan Laurels forehead and the cold seawater had shrivelled my proverbial balls to the size of peanuts. Skidded twice at the first bend, so it was softly slowly down the hill.

At some point before the Caha pass, with feck all to do but pedal and think, (me & myself had fallen out with I and were no longer on speaking terms) I made a mental note. I need a Dictaphone to record my race report while on the bike next time. 2 things wrong there.

1. I remembered my mental note, so no need for a Dictaphone.

2. Next time? What the fu…?

There was a smaller climb and descent before the Caha pass. Pissed it down the descent faster than the speed of light. (Light travelling through sodium at -272degC goes about 60kph). Caha is long. Very long. Really long. Fierce long. Not steep, but long. Long and slow. Slow and long. Finally there’s a tunnel at the top, and yup, you’ve guessed it – you get to finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. The far side is neither long nor slow. It’s short and quick. Pissed it down the side of that mountain too. Faster than a flock of sheep on roller skates. Unfortunately the road surface was poxy for the last few kilometres. Lumpy. Like porridge that wasn’t made right.

T2: couldn’t find me tea or biscuits or the newspaper. Had to just toddle on with mesef and run a half marathon. As you do when you’ve no tea, biscuits or newspaper.

A marshal informed me Ireland beat Oz 15-6. Deadly. Adrenaline rush. I had a new target all of a sudden. I was gonna break the 6 hour mark. That adrenaline rush lasted a good 50yards and then I copped on to myself. I’d only run longer than 8 miles twice in my life. No matter. Head down. Keep going. Left, right, left, right. Keep the head down. Left, right, left, right. Head up. Feck – I’d only travelled 8 steps. Water stop 1 came and went. Water stop 2 came and went. I went as well. Den there it was. A nice red cone. The nicest reddest coniest cone I ever did see. Halfway. Deadly. Could still make 6 hours. Just don’t up the ante too early… Water stop 3 came and went. Time to up the ante. The ante went up. Me ould aqua-karate wound wasn’t having any of it. The ante came back down. And fairly lively at that. Had to slow down going downhill of all things. The last 4k was all downhill. The Healys and the Balls weren’t feelin great either. Who’d’ve thought the last few k of a middle distance triathlon could be uncomfortable on the body? 6 hour mark me bollix. Just get to the finish line.

20 minute queue for the physios after the race. Aaaaaarrrrrgghhh. Sod that. Off to the Jacuzzi instead. 2 hours kip. Big feed and then the world of pints.

Only realised Peter wasn’t taking part when there was a space next to my bike on the rack. Commiserations on not making it to the start line. You wouldn’t have liked it – it was just too damn easy.

Great course (if only they’d make it a bit harder). Organisation spot on. Marshals very friendly – which is a bit of a problem if you’re looking to get in a row at 7am to avoid doing a feckin triathlon. Good goody bag. Would I do it again? Would I fu… Are ya mad? What kind of a spanner would do that to themselves. I’m taking up knitting.

Big thanks to Emily for chauffeuring etc… and for putting up with my very very foul mood prior to racking my bike. And ta to big bro Eoin for the big feeds, accommodation and entertainment in general. And cheers to all for the support and well wishes.

The feckin report is longer than the feckin race. If ye want to know about any more races I’m doin ye may just come with me.

Photos [with captions!]

Results

David F leads a posse through some fast Ballyhoura singletrack

[Report by David Conway]

It’s 3011AD. A bog body is found curled up under an ancient mechanical device. The archives identify the machine as a mountain bike. On the body’s tattered clothing a small equilateral triangle containing the number 795 is barely discernible. The archaeologist whispers in awe  ”The legend is true, there really were such heroes.”

That could have been the case had things ended differently. Here’s what really happened.

David F, David T, Barry and I headed off to Ballyhoura in the big blue van yesterday for the 2011 National Marathon Champs. Only DF had done this before but his report from last year had convinced us to give it a lash. We were under no illusions, it was gong to be a tough day.

The organisation was excellent from the get-go, with easy parking and sign-on and helpful marshals quickly setting the tone for the remainder of the day.

As we lined up at the start I had one thing in my mind. Barry had revealed his strategy of sticking to my wheel or DF’s wheel for most of the race and then going for broke towards the end. My counter-strategy was to get out of sight at the start and stay there. It’s hard to chase when you can’t see who you’re chasing!

Bang on time at 11:30am we were off and immediately into a long fire-road climb. I was startled by the early pace  - this was to be a 65km marathon, what was the hurry? Anyway I stuck with it and soon realised that just like any other MTB race, early position going into the singletrack is important, especially for anyone with notions of winning!

After about half an hour things settled down. The fast lads and slow lads had disappeared to their respective ends of the fields and I began to see who I was really racing against. Had some good battles, notably with a couple of lads from Unlaoised and Lakeside Wheelers. The course had everything, long fire-road climbs, fast flowing Ballyhoura singletrack, muddy heath-land and rocky descents. The mud was plentiful, and some of the puddles really should have had lifeguard stations. Sounds like hell but for me it was MTB Nirvana, I was having a great time!

I had managed to get far enough ahead of the lads so that I couldn’t see them behind me and I was feeling good on the bike, climbing well and almost floating down some of the man-made trails. In MTB there are fleeting moments when everything just clicks and I had more than a few of those moments yesterday.

Of course in a 65km race it isn’t all plain sailing. There were 3 very well placed food stops on the course at approximately 15km, 35km and 50km. I had enough of everything on board to make it to the 35km stop where I dismounted and took my leisurely time. Big mistake.

While I was there faffing around I saw Richard Lynch from Epic passing through and grabbing his bottle without even dismounting the bike. Holy c**p I thought, I’m usually well ahead of Richard in NPS races. By the time I was finished messing Richard was well ahead of me up a cruelly long fire road. In due course I caught up and exchanged a few pleasantries before forging on ahead. Made good time to the next feed station and stopped again. More faffing (lesson not yet learned) and sure enough Richard breezes by again grabbing his bottle on the fly. I got going and passed Richard once again but by now I was slowing down and didn’t find it so easy to shake him off. He was the wise old tortoise and I was the poxy hare.

Finally I managed to shake him, or so I thought. I was fairly well ahead in one of the final sections of singletrack when I mounted one of the famous Ballyhoura boardwalks, wooden structures traversing areas too boggy for standard trails. They are treacherously slippery when wet and require 100% concentration. Well I was tired. I was only about 5 metres from the end of the boardwalk when disaster struck and I found myself teetering on the edge, looking down into a black stinking boghole of  uncertain depth. I couldn’t recover, the unthinkable became the unavoidable and down I went. It was a big fall, the boardwalk was about 3 feet high at that point. I landed hard on my right arm and then the bike landed very hard on my head. Luckily the water was only about 6 inches deep but it stank to high heaven. As I was thrashing around in the puddle Richard the tortoise passed me again. Gentleman that he is, he paused to make sure I was OK before disappearing down the trail, never to be caught again. I was a bit shaken but thankfully nothing broken so I got back up and made it to the finish without further incident.

I wasn’t waiting too long before DF arrived with similar stories to my own, highs and lows, but mostly highs I think. We were waiting a long time for Barry and were actually beginning to worry when he arrived with the sorry tale of his misguided wanderings. He had missed a sign and ended up doing an additional 10km. David T arrived and we all set off home pretty pleased with ourselves having risen to one of the toughest MTB challenges on the calendar.

Lesson 1 of the day? Be the tortoise, not the hare. Stay on the bike and keep churning.

Lesson 2? Never, ever forget your helmet. If I had not been wearing my helmet, the bog body story might have come true.

All in all a great day’s racing, the most enjoyable of the year for me. Highly recommended. Well done to the organisers, Team Ballyhoura.

Results and Photos

Frank, PJ, Brian and Lorraine at Clogherhead. (Photo by Pixels Promotions)

An early start as usual of 6.45am when you have to travel with Laurel(aka Frank) and Hardy(P.J), the lads always like to get there a good 2 hours before the registration tent is even put up. Collecting Lorraine on the way, hoping that we’d woke Barry and the 3 nippers in the process, PJ in fairness never put a foot wrong till Frank stuck on the Sat Nav and duly got us lost within 5 minutes. Sea looked pretty rough when we got there, but most people we talked to before hand said it was going to go ahead. Registration which was out in the open bar a small tent was quite slow for anyone who queued like Lorraine and myself, no problem for the two boys who took the ryanair express route! Goody bag wasn’t bad, main thing was a bag for carrying your wetsuit. Transition was either side of the road with plenty of room and well marked. Wetsuits on and ready to go, Lorraine in wave 1, Frank and myself in wave 2 and PJ in wave 3. The organisers put a buoy out in the water and it was blown down the coast about a km in no length – swim cancelled, to be replaced with a 2.5km run. In hindsight just as well cause I reckon Frank and myself would have ended up close to Belfast if they had let us in!

First run was on a flat route out and back with a strong wind in our snots on the way out. Up on the bikes for a nice quick start with the wind at our backs for the first 2/3 km. After that it was a series of rolling hills and not as flat as expected, surface was good however and virtually no traffic. Couple of long stretches with the wind in our puss which was hard going for all but the last 5km were very cool – really fast section running right beside the sea with a gale at your back. Out and back 5km run (200m short of 5km probably) pretty flat for the most part, met Frank, Phil Murphy from Wexford Tri and Pj who was motoring very well. Nice finish with loads of support along the way. A good day for all with a partly injured Frank with another very good time on the bike, Lorraine with a great 2nd run (24 mins versus the 30 minutes plus she was predicting!) and getting close to breaking 40 minutes (if we could stop her from admiring the houses along the course!) in the cycle but PJ took top honours with top dog on the cycle after a few maulings from Frank recently and top 5km run to round off a seriously good and consistent year for him particularly on the running front. He will go hard on the club championship this year and deservedly so.

Now If only we could have been beamed back home at this stage – Lorraine and myself had to listen to Carlow/Galway version of little Britain for the next two and a half hours. Between colour choices of compression socks, arm warmers, racing 795 underpants and yoga (Frank – you and yoga are just plain wrong, it’s like crisps and tomato sauce, it’s just not right)

Personally my neck was sore this morning from having to check were the bikes still on the carrier the whole way home.

Would I do this tri again? Yes, really good course, best transition of the year, little or no traffic and well organised.

(Thanks to Jim for the Bike carrier and PJ for driving and Frank for the thay, biscuits and getting us lost)

Result and Photos available on TI site