Lanzarote
It was my first time in Lanzarote and I found it to be a place in flux. The view out the window on the bus from the airport contained a power station, derelict construction sites, enormous holiday resorts and picturesque beaches. Contradictions that would come to represent my experience with the island. Lanzarote as an island has little to offer, with no valuable natural resources and its isolated position off the coast of Africa, so in the 90s it turned to tourism. With cheaper flights now an option, northern Europeans began looking towards the Canary Islands for sun, sea, and Sangria. The remnants of this trend still exists on the island and was on view in our location of Costa Teguise. The sea front was still littered with Irish and English bars, restaurants with picture book menus and lucky lucky's selling their ware. These mainstays of 1990/2000 holidays were showing their age, weather-beaten signs hung over the doors and the tired looking plastic chairs set up outside remained mostly empty. Holidays have changed a lot in the last 10 years and Lanzarote is in the process of adapting to this new reality. Sun, Sea, and Sangria has been replaced by experiences, adventures, and luxury. It was experiences that brought me to the Island on the inaugural Naas Triathlon Club training camp.
Saturday - Day One
24 triathletes from Naas Triathlon Club, including myself and Karen, made their way to Lanzarote on Saturday the 22nd of April 2023. The group was a mixture of the fast and not-so-fast, beginner to Ironman and everything in between. Arriving throughout the day, we checked into our accommodation, picked up our bikes and generally began preparing for the week ahead. This being the first NTC training camp, no one was sure what was in store. Any expectation that it would be a leisurely week with plenty of relaxation interspersed with easy training sessions was abruptly ended when we went on our first ‘shake-out run’ at 5pm on that first Saturday. Easing us into a false sense of security as we jogged along the promenade, the coaches (Conor and Barry) chatted casually and encouraged us to take in the view. At the 3k mark we stopped to regroup and a calmness fell over everyone. When we began running again we turned immediately on to undulating gravel trails that weaved between buildings and across main roads. The sharp gradients instantly sent my heart rate soaring and by the time we arrived back at the hotel I was drenched in sweat and had completed over seven kilometres. That evening as we sat down for dinner the enthusiasm and excitement that had been palpable in the airport that morning was gone. It was replaced by a mix of anxiety and apprehension. Etched across everyone's face was one simple thought “what had I let myself in for”.
Sunday - Day Two
The Sunday morning swim brought a sense of normality to proceedings. The cool outdoor pool warmed by the sun was a beautiful setting for a swim but when you get down to it a 25 metre lane is a 25 metre lane no matter the location. This sense of familiarity was welcomed and after a quick breakfast we assembled for our first cycle of the week. I am not sure if it was just me but I didn’t give our planned route much thought as we left the hotel that morning. Even before arriving in Lanzarote we were informed that every cycle would start with a six kilometre climb. That seemed to preoccupy everyone so what lay ahead after that was given little consideration. Within the first 100 metres we separated into two groups, an advanced group of 7 which I was part of, and an intermediate group which contained the rest of the club members. The intermediate group would split into two further interchangeable groups dependent on individuals strengths. After surviving the first six kilometres the advanced group settled into a strong peloton, sharing the workload we set a steady pace cycling along the coast before taking a sharp left at the base of Tabayesco. Tabayesco is a 10 kilometre climb with switch-backs and steep gradients that would play a pivotal role in our week. On that Sunday afternoon I was not aware of any of this and as I traced my eyes up the mountain to comprehend what lay ahead I heard a clunk, crash and scream.
The corner of my eye saw Julie as she fell to the ground. Her gears jammed and unable to get her leg unclipped in time she crashed onto the tarmacadamed road landing on her elbow. She screamed in both anger and pain before throwing her bike off the road. In a demonstration of her strength, that she would continue to show throughout the week, after only a couple of minutes of sitting on the ground Julie got back on her bike and with only two usable gears began cycling up the mountain. As we climbed the group splintered and I drifted to the back of our small pack. Sweat dripped from my forehead onto my sunglasses and down onto my bike. I tried to maintain a steady power but each switch-back required an extra effort to sumount and once around the bend a couple of seconds of recovery were needed. I felt strong as we reached the T-junction at the halfway point and we quickly pushed on to complete the climb. Arriving at the top, only a couple of minutes separated our group from first to last. Thankfully, a coffee shop sits perched on top of Tabayesco, overlooking the road as it winds its way up the mountain. In this beautiful setting, with views of the sea, we sat down for coffee and cake, elated by our travails up the mountain. After finishing our delicacies we moved outside to warm ourselves under the beaming sun and conversation turned to the intermediate group. We hoped that some of the stronger members would make it up the climb but agreed that it was probably a bit too much for some of the less experienced cyclists. In one of the highlights of the trip, we would be proven very wrong. One by one every member of Naas Triathlon Club on the trip reached the top of Tabayesco. Each one was overjoyed and exhausted by their achievement. We cheered each one of them on as they entered the coffee shop and took a group photo celebrating the collective victory. Our first full day would finish with a long decent back to the hotel and some light stretching that evening.
Monday - Day Three
As with Sunday, Monday morning kicked off with a pool swim followed by breakfast. I took advantage of everything the buffet had to offer and loaded up on pancakes, eggs and sausages, knowing we had another long day on the bike scheduled. There were two routes for Monday, one through the Lava fields for the advanced group and the intermediate group would head towards Puerto Del Carmen, returning via the coast path. I again went with the advanced group and struggled to hold on to the back as we climbed away from the coast. Eventually, the climbing eased, however we had two further challenges to contend with. One was the strong wind that seemed to hit us head on around every turn. The second was navigation. At times it felt as if we were cycling through the Bermuda triangle, bike computers would randomly lose their GPS and suggest making a U turn to reconnect. The normally dependable Google Maps brought us down long descents to coastal villages, only for us to turn around and climb back the way we came. We finally returned to civilization, cycling through the busy town of Arrecife. At this stage our energy reserves were severely depleted and we stopped in a roadside cafe to consume ice-creams, cakes, and frittatas, all washed down with cola and coffee. It was while sitting in the cafe that I checked my phone and saw a message from Karen. Susie, a club member cycling in the intermediate group, had fallen from her bike and had been taken to hospital. It would transpire that she broke her wrist and her training week was over. Rather than dwell on this fact, Susie demonstrated remarkable optimism and continued to be a valuable contributor to our group for the rest of the week. She embodied the anecdote “when life gives you lemons...”, however in this case it was Margaritas that were made. Still unaware of everything that would follow, we eventually cycled the final six kilometres back to the hotel. That evening we separately completed a short run. As the sun set so did a sombre mood over the camp.
Tuesday - Day Four
By Tuesday morning the wind eased, temperature picked up and the general gloom of the previous evening abated. There was a sense of excitement about the scheduled session. We cycled slowly to the start point at the top of the six kilometre climb from the hotel and a route was marked out. What was in store was a brick session which included a cycle uphill followed by a short trail run. There were two options for the cycle, a long five kilometre spin and a shorter three kilometre stint. Each individual would complete three efforts in total. In my first effort I completed the long cycle and by the time I reached our makeshift transition I was feeling the heat. Without the wind, the air felt dry and the route exposed. I sprinted down the hill to the turning point and then back to transition. With my first effort complete, I took my time getting my cycling shoes back on and rolling down to the start point. For my second effort I chose the shorter cycle and set my sights on a club member, Ali, who was a little further up the hill. I worked unnecessarily hard to catch him and pass him, so that by the time I completed the run section I had to sit on the ground in an attempt to recover. When I got going again Ali was already ahead of me. Unable to switch off the competitive streak that is at the centre of every triathlete, I charged after him, passing him on the climb and arriving at transition a sweaty out of breath mess. When I finally completed my last run I felt shattered and elated. There was something thrilling about pushing yourself to the point of exhaustion for no apparent reason and racing someone who isn’t even aware you are sharing the same road. Triathletes are definitely a different breed.
That evening we revived our tired bodies by swimming in the sea. The water was crystal clear as we swam around the small lagoon. Fish of all different colours and sizes moved about below us, darting in and out of the rocks that lined the sea bed. For the first time since arriving in Lanzarote I felt relaxed, very very tired but relaxed.
Wednesday - Day Five
Wednesday was due to be the ‘Big Day’. We had known since arriving that there was a six hour cycle scheduled for Wednesday and it would be hilly. There were rumours that it would include over 2400 metres of climbing, but thankfully this did not turn out to be the case. The spin started with a cycle to Orzola where the advanced and intermediate groups would meet for coffee and ice-cream. This was a beautiful spin along the coast, with rolling hills and constant views of the ocean. In Orzola we drank cappuccinos and ate ice-creams ambivalent at what lay ahead. When we finally got going again there were two groups that were going to tackle the long route, the advanced group which still numbered seven and three members of the intermediate group who would form their own pack on the road. Everyone else would return to the hotel traversing the route taken out. As soon as we left the small harbour town of Orzola we began climbing and didn’t stop for 10 kilometres. Although the same length as the Tabayesco climb on Sunday, the climb to Mirador Del Rio seemed longer. There were less switchbacks to break up the misery and it required more of a steady effort that at times seemed endless. I was the last to reach the top and when I did I was greeted by a large steel fish bearing the mountain’s name. I quickly dismounted, drank some water and then looked around. The view was astonishing. Everything was visible from this vantage point, the expanses of Lanzarote, nearby islands and the vastness of the ocean that surrounded it all. When we had filled our lungs with fresh air and our cameras with breath-taking photos we began the descent. The road down started along a narrow path, wide enough for only one car, with a small two foot wall on each side. Over the wall to the left was nothing but cliffs and the sea. The perilous descent only added to the beauty of the area and we took it all in as we let our bikes carry us down the mountain. After whizzing through some small villages we soon found ourselves climbing again. There was a collective sense of surprise about this. Not only were we steadily going up but it looked familiar.
I could just make out a building at the top of the mountain that looked strikingly similar to the one we visited on Sunday at the top of Tabayesco. We soon passed a sign indicating a left turn for Tabayesco. I was relieved when we continued straight but we were still going up and that building was getting closer. Fellow club mate Barry suggested that although it did look very familiar it was probably just a different mountain with the same type of building on top, maybe like a franchise. I put this absurd statement down to heat exhaustion and cycled on hoping that at some point we would turn and begin moving away from the mountain top. With every bend we got closer to that building and eventually I rolled into the car park at the top of Tabayesco for a second time. More coffee, cake and cola were consumed. I am not sure how long we stayed at the top of the mountain, it felt like a long time but I was still drained when we climbed back on our bikes. The fast descent brought me back to life, we pushed hard all the way down taking the bends without breaking and pushing hard to stick on the wheel in front. It didn’t let up until we had 85 kilometres done and were 10 kilometres from home. We slowed and turned through a small collection of houses to avoid a road closure. When cresting a small hill one of our group began feeling breathless and so we stopped and gathered in the shade. It had been a very tough day with two monster climbs, temperature in the high twenties and fast exhilarating descents. It could’ve been anyone of us that needed a rest and in the end we were all grateful for the break. We would eventually make it home and enjoy a short swim before crashing to our beds with another day done.
Thursday - Day Six
Just as we were aware that Wednesday was the long bike, it was known that Thursday was the long run. The coaches suggested running to Porto Del Carmen along the promenade, a distance of 24 kilometres. Although the rest of the advanced group took them up on that offer, I decided it was a bridge too far. Having only run a maximum of 12 kilometres this year trying to double that could only end it disaster. Instead I decided on running ten kilometres along the promenade before turning and running back to the hotel. That run was the hardest session I did all week. I carried a water bottle with me and slowed to a walk to take on some water at kilometre three and then again at kilometre six. When I reached kilometre ten I stopped in the shade of a building and took a short break. Every inch of my body was covered in sweat. I could feel the sunscreen I applied that morning drip from my face and the exposed skin started to burn. As I ran back towards Costa Teguise and our hotel, I stayed close to walls, fences and buildings, anything that could provide a small bit of shade and an escape from the increasingly oppressive heat. By kilometre 14 I had run out of water, by kilometre 16 I was ready to give up. I struggled on for another 2 kilometres, eventually stopping the watch at 18 kilometres complete. I was done. For me that was the training complete, the hard work over with.
I needed rest and opted out of that evening's open-water swim, the only session I missed all week. Over dinner that evening we discussed that planned cycle for the next day, it was to be an easy recovery spin and one I was looking forward to. There was mention that there may be interest in another go at Tabayesco, this was definitely not for me but I was aware that a No1 Fitness member held the club segment on Strava for Tabayesco. On the way back to our room that evening I dropped into the coaches room to share this information, knowing full well that their competitive spirit would force them to right this wrong. Conor Farrell was there at that time and I could tell by his immediate reaction that on Friday morning he was going back up that mountain.
Friday - Day Seven
On Friday morning we set off as a group from the hotel. The plan was an easy spin to Orzola where we would have more coffee and ice cream and then cycle back to the hotel. As predicted coach Conor and Conor Farrell had other plans, they were having a crack at Tabayesco. The cycle to Orzola was tough, into a strong headwind and I could no longer sit on the saddle comfortably. After four days of cycling, sitting on a thin piece of plastic that somehow passes for a saddle, my backside had enough. It was sore, very sore. Next year I am bringing my own saddle! I compensated by standing up where possible and constantly moving around. I enjoyed cycling with Karen on the route and we took our time, taking in the view. When we reached Orzola and sat down with a coffee I checked my phone. On it was a screenshot from Conor with my name and showing the time for the Tabayesco segment. They smashed it!
That evening after returning from our cycle to Orzola, we had one last session to complete an Aquathon. The Aquathon was staged as a race but in reality it was a bit of fun on our last evening. The race was four laps of the pool followed by a short 1.2km run. It was an enjoyable event and a great way to finish the week. I ran across the finish line, hand in hand with Karen. We cheered everyone over the finish line as much for the efforts throughout the week as for the aquathon. That night we celebrated with dinner, drinks and dancing. Much of the events of that evening I am forbidden from sharing but what I can say is triathletes should not do Karaoke, are prone to injury even on the dancefloor and are generally a great bunch of people.
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