Belpark veteran Sarah Walsh travelled with Deirdre MacNally to Bahrain and accelerated around the Formula 1 track faster than Louis Hamilton as she completed the Bahrain 70.3 Ironman Middle East Championships. No champagne but certainly deserving..

The week leading up to Bahrain 70.3 was organised mayhem. We systematically went about the usual pre-race rituals, bouncing off the boundaries of a very different culture now and again. From the moment we landed, we were all about business. First priorities: acclimatise to the heat and make sure the bikes survived the journey. So down we went to the hotel reception for advice on where we could run and cycle nearby. We were advised that people don’t really like to go outside in Bahrain. Why would they, when taxis were so cheap and malls were so big? Oh dear, this isn’t going to go well. We were quickly labelled the mental pair in apartment 238, and they laughed at us every time we passed through reception. We kept our heads down and tried to stick to the plan. In an attempt to meet like-minded people, we went along to the Ironman press conference, but pulled a legger immediately afterwards when we discovered that we had sat in the pro athlete area. So far so good.

Checking out Jodie Swallow’s bike. The steward was NOT happy with me, ‘I won’t steal it – promise’.

Finally the day arrived for the terrible two to take on the Bahrain 70.3 Ironman Middle East Championships. After all the talk and training, we were ready (sort of) and rested (sort of).

When we arrived at Prince Khalifa Park on race morning we learned that the swim had been cancelled due to strong currents and high winds. Not ideal. After 10 minutes of indulgently lamenting over all the sleep we gave up for early morning swims, we got on with planning for the bike-run duathlon ahead of us. The race would be set off as a rolling run start from the swim exit, 5 competitors every 15 seconds. With the usual pre-washing machine swim start buzz now gone, and a long wait in the start pen, we had to really pep ourselves up to get the energy going again. This was a big change, as I’m usually more focussed on keeping the nerves under control. Enough talk, time to go – off we shot into T1, onto the bike and onto the never-ending Prince Khalifa highway.

Bahrain’s skyline from T1 at Prince Khalifa Park. It would have been a nice swim!

The beginning of the bike route was brilliantly tourist-friendly. It circled into Bahrain’s capital, Manana, passing Bahrain’s famous Twin Towers among other mammoth skyscrapers, before heading South towards the desert. The bike brought some interesting new challenges. Cross winds insisted on blowing us into the highway barriers like a game of corners in the back of the car, while giant cat eyes waited to shoot some poor fool on a TT bike into the sky like E.T. ‘Right so, it’s gonna be one of those days.’ Aside from the relentless winds, I just wasn’t comfortable on the bike. While most of our long bike sessions were out in the horrible Irish weather, our weekday sessions were on the turbo, and it was clear that this made a difference in term of body position etc. Factor this into your winter race plans people! So far, it was tough going.

A section of the bike course ran parallel to the run course and my spirits hit the roof when I crossed paths with my absolute favourite (!!) triathlete, Jodie Swallow. She is such a tough and honest racer – what a champ! She did not look happy. ‘HON JODIE, YOU TINY DANCER!!!’ I wondered if that was her first ever culchie Irish cheer…

But I had my own business to take care of…the final leg of the bike course was a lap of Bahrain International F1 Circuit – AMAZING! Anyone who claims they didn’t make race car noises as they screeched around this track is lying! You could see the rubber burned into the track on the corners and the last 100m of the bike course was down the finishing straight of the F1 track – deadly! Off the bike I hopped, flung it at a steward to rack (at this point I didn’t care if I’d ever see my bike again) and off into the changing tent. With a separate changing test for women, there were plenty of stewards on hand to help with transition bag knots, tying shoe laces and wiping snot (this reference is for you Keith, keeping it real). And for anyone wondering, NO we didn’t have to wear burkas or burkinis or any other form of roasting-hot-like-lava attire. Off onto the toasty run I went.

The run course snaked around the F1 track, giving me another sighting of Jodie who was now finishing her race, ‘YEEEEEEEOW g’wan Jodie girl’. She smiled this time – result! I also got a sighting of the elusive Deirdre MacNally ahead of me. Being within 10km of this girl in a race means I’m winning life – happy days. At this stage we were both relieved to be running. The sentiment didn’t last long as we headed off into the dusty Al Areen Wildlife Park. Upside – there were loads of camels and monkeys wandering around looking for divilment. Downside – they could have done with turning the central heating down a bit. I broke the run down into 2km segments: a 2km run, feeling pretty hot and wanting to nap; then a tumble turn into a bucket of ice water at each aid station. I repeated this pattern 10 times. This, of course, is a huge exaggeration. The run wasn’t nearly as hot as I was expecting – all those turbo sessions in rain jackets/woolly hats and sauna sessions after 6am swims had paid off!

By the time the run looped back into the F1 track I was dreaming about a frosty cocktail. This had been a great year, but I wanted it to be over…now. As the red carpet got nearer, the stupidity of what we had just done hit home. We decided to go to the Middle East to do a triathlon in the wintertime –  eejits!! I laughed my way down the finishing chute and was thrilled to find a happy Dee waiting for me. Exhausted, relieved and a teenie tiny bit tanned, we stumbled off a very happy pair. We did alright too, sharing spots with Daniela Ryf in the top 50 females of the day. And a 3rd position in my age category – what a treat!