On Saturday Mark and I headed north to Aviemore for The Starman triathlon. It’s a middle distance event (or half-ironman distance) based around Loch Morlich and the Spey valley, starting at midnight on Saturday night. The race is a slightly confusing one – it’s main hook is the opportunity to race a triathlon at night. Yes, that’s definitely something different, but I guess to some it might sound like a bit of a gimmick. At least, that’s what I thought on entering. However, sitting here a day later thinking about the race, the main feature should really be the course itself. Firstly, it’s a beautiful place to stage a triathlon. Secondly, the race really is a bit of a toughie…and that’s before they turn the lights out! It’d be a real challenge at any time of day, the night aspect really adds a bit of a twist to keep you focussed!
The swim is a simple enough 1.9km lapped swim round Loch Morlich. Well, it was supposed to be simple enough. The cycle, ~56miles along quiet roads up and down the Spey, features just over 3000 ft climb, and of that mainly in the last couple of miles up to the ski centre. The run, ~13.1miles, has just under 4000ft overall ascent featuring the climb to Cairngorm summit, down through Glenmore Forest, then up and over the summit of Meall a’ Bhuachaille. It’s certainly not to be sneezed at. Many triathlons like to advertise just how hard they are, how insane, maybe even giving it some kind of badass name to go along with it…and yet the Starman team don’t do that. They instead focus on the unique experience and the warm support of their crew, and so they should – looking back it was an amazing experience and their crew was indeed lovely.
Mark and I set up a little “wild” camp beside Loch Morlich within walking distance of the start. Neither of us had put any thought into race prep beyond going for a night swim a few weeks ago. We really hadn’t thought about digs either, so a tent by the lochside was Carnethy Race HQ. Training was something else we should’ve thought of, but that’s another matter. Midnight drew near, we racked the bikes, lubed-up, rubbered-up (wetsuits) and hit the shore for a quick photo, a race briefing and then to that daunting swim in that very, very dark loch.
The swim involves 4 loops of a marked course beside the beach, each marker is a metal buoy with flashing lights. Mark and I each had our issues on the swim, but Mark had greater problems by swimming face-first into a buoy and breaking his goggles. No matter, Mark simply beached himself back on land and fixed his goggles (I would’ve given up immediately, gone straight to the pub to catch last orders whilst still wearing my wetsuit). The buoys were pretty good in the dark and were easy enough to follow. I don’t think either of us enjoyed the swim as the water was quite choppy, being whipped-up by the wind that was howling through Glenmore Forest. Concern was growing as this was supposed to be the easy bit! The laps counted down quickly though, and onto the bike.
The cycle was the most worrying for me. I’d bought cheap bike lights from Amazon the week before (£20 for a front-back pair), with a front light that was suitably powerful for night riding. My main concern was that the light was surprisingly cheap. Worryingly cheap, even. In fact, I was so concerned that I decided not to test it on a bike for too long, just in case it only had one cycle in it. In the end it worked, didn’t dissolve in the rain, and stayed working for the full cycle. Weirdly, I wouldn’t say the night aspect brought any real technical challenges, as you quickly adapt to using lights, but it certainly adds to the overall experience. It’s dark, and you’re mostly alone, but cycling through dark woods and zipping along dark country roads is a lot of fun.
The cycle route features two main climbs, the first around half way when things are still going well and it passed quickly. The second is near the end, as you cross the Spey to return upstream towards the Ski centre. At first you barely feel the gradient, it just slowly starts sapping at your legs. Next, as you turn onto Cairngorm road, you’re hit with sharper inclines and intermittent flat sections. Finally, you pass Loch Morlich and the real pain starts. The road gets steeper, and more exposed to the wind and rain. It was grim. A really cruel twist at the end of a long cycle. The climb hurts. The switchback hurts. Even cycling across the Ski Centre Car park hurts. The draw of just retiring at the ski centre was really strong. A guy I arrived with was withdrawing at this point, and I couldn’t really blame him. The centre was light, and warm; the hill was windy, wet, dark and cold. The crew kept spirits high though, and with a pretty leisurely transition I was soon dibbing-in for the climb to the summit.
It was around 4:30am when I started the climb. Still no daylight, still dark, still windy, and still wet. It felt good to be on the run section though, and for the first time that night I felt that I would get round ok. Well, assuming I didn’t push too hard and knacker myself. I took the climb fairly easily, just hoping to get to the summit ok. The Ptarmigan station seemed to arrive quickly, then onto some awkward boulders and paths to the summit. Thankfully the sun finally popped its head over the horizon and the run became a lot easier. The summit dibbed, and back down a landrover track to the car park, down to the sugarbowl and towards Meall a’ Bhuachaille. This was supposed to be a forest run, but a deluge last week destroyed the path, so we had to run along the road for a bit before Glenmore Lodge, and up to the Ryvoan Bothy and the last feed station. From the road onwards things felt pretty good, the sun was out, and I started passing people all the way to the summit of the hill. From here, you looked out over the epic route behind you: from the Cairngorm range to the south, to the north where the bike route followed the Spey out beyond Nethy Bridge, and nestled between them was Loch Morlich where it all began 7hrs before. Just an awkward descent to Loch Morlich remained, and maybe a longer-than-you-expected run through the woods, but I didn’t care by this point. Over the line, get a very pretty medal, grab a bacon roll, a cup of tea, and it’s done!
Mark followed not long behind, and we retired to our Carnethy Race HQ tent for a well-earned rest. From my warm sleeping bag I could hear the trees rustle, the water lapping the shores of Loch Morlich, and the gentle purr of Mark farting in his sleep. It was a grand day!
Massive thanks to the organisers and their great team! Lots of support, great feed stations, and an excellent course! Any triathlon with disconnected transitions is always a bit of a logistical headache, but it all worked smoothly. Very well done! I would encourage anyone to enter this event, and to do so quickly before it becomes wildly popular…which it deserves to be.
The score on the doors: Mark finished 25th overall, a solid performance given his issues with the swim (perhaps keep his bike helmet on for that bit next time). I finished (a very flattering) 9th. Results here.
Jim