Alpe D'Huez Triathlon 2024

Updated: Aug 26

Keep Pedalling - Don't Look Up

In the build up to the race and even when discussing since, the comparison to an Ironman or 70.3 is consistently raised. The fact is they don’t compare. An Ironman is about managing to your abilities. Alpe D’Huez is about managing chaos. That is not to say one is harder than the other. A better way to think about it is that they are different sports.

Driving from Lyon airport, two days before the race, the Alps first appeared as a line on the horizon. An hour later we were engulfed in the mountain range. The sheer size and scale of them is barely comprehensible. We passed road signs pointing to ‘Cols’ made famous by the Tour de France, before arriving at the foot of the most famous of all, Alpe D’Huez. Driving up its 21 bends, the rented Citron lurched from 1st to 2nd gear. I laughed nervously as the next ramp appeared from beyond each hairpin. The supposed easing of the gradients after turn 16 was not discernible from the car, only arriving at the village of Huez did there appear to be any relief, albeit temporary. The road narrowed and the car continued up, only stopping when we reached our hotel at the top of Alpe D’Huez. When I turned off the car a palpable tension and anxiety filled the air. The videos watched and blogs read failed to ease the shock of the first climb up this famous mountain.

On race morning everyone seemed extra nervous. A tyre exploded in transition and I am pretty sure I saw at least two triathletes dive for cover. There were fights over track pumps, and people close to tears searching for goggles. One triathlete was even convinced that her bike was stolen, before realising she had placed it in the wrong location. Only when we queued to enter the water did it bring a sense of calm. All the worrying about what lay ahead no longer mattered, soon the race would begin and then the work. A wave of nausea came over me, something that has never happened before in a race. I dismissed it as nerves and entered the water relieved to finally get going. The water was warm, well warm in comparison to Bray and the Irish Sea, and I quickly settled into the rhythm of the swim. The route only contained two marker buoys, both 1050 metres from the start and 100 metres apart. This allowed swimmers to span out and the only contact I had in the water was with an athlete who was going in the wrong direction. Turning at the last buoy, the swim back in appeared long and daunting. The blue exit carpet could be seen from far out but only during the last 50 metres did I get a sense that I was nearly done. Finally out of the water, I fumbled through transition, mounted the bike and things got serious.

Leaving T1 the road is downhill for 24 kilometres. Initially I was able to pick up speed but my less than efficient transition came back to haunt me as traffic began building on the roads. Cars were being held up by riders up ahead and I was stuck behind these cars. Twice I unclipped, the narrow roads leaving no room to continue forward. Only when I reached the first climb did the traffic, well, disappear. Col Du Grand Serre lulls you in with gradients of 4% for the first kilometre and then proceeds to kick you where it hurts for the next 14. The only saving grace is the continuous shade, preventing the sun, which was by then in the high twenties, from adding to the suffering. I dropped to my lowest gear, spun my legs, and was pleased with my progress as I ticked off the green signs that indicated the number of kilometres left to the top. The summit was marked with a well stocked aid station and I allowed myself some cheese and crackers as a reward for my achievement. With one climb done only two remained, well only two French climbs. In between Col Du Serre and Col d’Ornon was Col Du Marisol, 4 kilometres long and averaging 7.5% gradient, it appeared as only a bump on the route map but would give any climb in Wicklow a run for its money. Again I was happy with my progress up this ramp, even joking with some Irish participants that I passed. The descent from Marisol was glorious, I sped down into the valley trying to take in the expansive scenery. When I stopped at the food stop at the base of Col D’Ornon I was enjoying my day out and ready for what lay ahead.

Col D’Ornon is 15 kilometres long but with gradients averaging 4% for the first 10 kilometres a more digestible challenge than the mountain that would follow it. That is if you don’t take into consideration the heat. There is no shade and no breeze in the valley, and with the temperatures now in the high 30s, the sun was beaming down and the asphalt radiating up. Five kilometres into the climb I noticed my power was low, far below what I was expecting to average for the race. What was more concerning was that my heart rate was very very high. I stopped in shade at the next opportunity, joining two other riders who had left the road to seek cover beside an old barn. It took nearly 10 minutes for my heart rate to drop enough that I was comfortable getting going again. I lasted another 5 kilometres before again my heart rate increased beyond 170. This time a tree on the far side of the road provided enough coverage and for the first time in the race I stepped off my bike. This is where I first vomited. I would get physically sick once more before reaching the top of Col D’Ornon and again on Alpe D’Huez. I continued to drink water but could no longer digest food. I was determined to continue and did not allow myself to consider an alternative. I rested at the top of Col’D’Ornon for another 10 minutes and took it easy on the descent. I stopped at the base of Alpe D'Huez, drank some water, and then started.

My memory of the ascent of Alpe D’Huez is hazy. It took me nearly three hours, with plenty of stops but from the first bend I operated on auto-pilot, losing myself in the process of moving forward:

Climbing to bend 21 was excruciatingly long. I passed a number of cyclists just before the hairpin and then pushed on to bend 20. A group of tired looking triathletes were standing in the shade at this bend. I stopped and joined them.