I completed a half Ironman in Valencia and it was absolute bliss

Big cities never sleep. Through the apartment window, facing out onto the Central Market, I hear the joy, laughter and occasional tears of revellers in the streets below heading home to bed after a long Saturday night.

It’s 5am. I’ve already had my night’s sleep and am desperately trying to force down some toast before joining them in the streets to head to the race village.

Half-dressed in a wetsuit, standing on the platform of the tube station, I learn that although the Metro runs from 5am, the line and direction I need won’t be springing to life until around 10 minutes after transition closes.

I take it in my stride (literally) and begin the long walk to the Marina hoping to find a taxi –surely all these partygoers heading home will be hailing cabs.

Alas no! I arrive safety at the marina (courtesy of the Uber skills of one of our supporters) in the nick of time and as soon as I am out of the taxi can feel the atmosphere rising.

The smell of neoprene wetsuits, some so new they still have their tags on. Excited family and friends shouting ‘smile!’ and ‘look here’ as they grab photos.

The sight of the endless rows of bikes hanging over the red carpets reminds me of the jamon for sale in Central Market I’d seen the day before. That sticky feeling on my hands of the carb / electrolyte mix that leaked as I secured my bottles to the bike.

Here I was – after all the early mornings at the pool, late nights on the treadmill and chilly Sundays on the bike, at Ironman Valencia 70.3. Of the three disciplines, I’d say I like the swim the most.

I spend a lot of time in open water, it’s my happy place, which I know is not true for many of the athletes I coach!

The 1900m swim in Valencia is in the harbour and the beautiful still morning offers near perfect conditions. Calm water, some extra buoyancy from the salt water and a rolling entry to offer a very unruffled start to the race.

I love how, as soon as you dive in, everything is silenced. You no longer hear the commentator or the music being played to pump up the athletes. It’s just me and the sea – and maybe a few thousand other neoprene-clad individuals, some of whom appear to be fighting for their lives!

I find my rhythm straight away, following the buoy line on a scenic tour of the harbour, trying my best to navigate flailing arms and the odd errant leg kick which came my way. Once round the dog leg, I pass the superyachts and see the big black arch calling me in.

A quick wrestle with the rope to pull myself out, a high five with a friend I spotted in the crowd and I am en route to T1, cheered all the way by supporters 10 deep either side of the barriers.

Into transition

Housed in the beautiful old fish market, the elegant building stands proud guarding over the millions of pounds worth of carbon sitting patiently underneath waiting for its moment.

Dripping wet athletes are tearing off neoprene, slapping on suncream and stuffing snacks in their mouth as they don helmet and shoes to head off and find their bike. I join the melee, trying not to get caught in the rushing, aware I’d come out of the water with the faster athletes who were keen to get away on their bikes.

It was surprisingly quiet in here, the sounds of the crowds deadened by the acoustics of the roof. Just the pitter patter of cleats and the click clack of noisy freehubs.

Once over the mount line, I breath a sign of relief. T1 successfully navigated, bike mounted and cleats attached – I was ready to see what the route had to offer. It was quickly apparent just how slick Ironman are with their events.

Not only are the roads closed to traffic and every single junction is manned so that you have priority, every side road has a volunteer on standby not only ensuring nothing comes onto the course but animatedly cheering on every athlete that goes by. “Vamos, Vamos, Vamos!”, they cry.

The route leaves the city, via an industrial area with a few 90 degree turns then gradually climbs inland towards the beautiful village of Náquera.

I held back slightly in case of any steep sections but there were no significant sections of elevation and the road conditions were generally good with plenty of space to overtake (or be overtaken!).

I love watching other competitors go by and seeing their names and country of origin on their bibs – wondering how they got here and what their triathlon journey looks like.

As we climb, multi-generational groups of families were sat at the entrance gates to their fincas and houses enjoying a morning coffee whilst offering us well wishes as we pass by legs spinning, hearts racing. The thoughts of having to descend started to enter my mind.

Having crashed last year in training I’m still nervous of picking up speed. After a little wiggle further up from Náquera, I am soon on the descent, winding down through a wonderful smelling pine forest popular with mountain bikers and hikers.

The smell takes me back to a period in my childhood when I was fortune enough to live just outside Madrid in an area of pine forest – happy memories thankfully distracting me from the fear of a descent, about which I need not have worried.

After it flattens out, there is a fast and furious out and back section on good road with a ferocious headwind on the way out. The sight of participants ahead returning in full aero position at almost the roads speed limit helps keep my spirits high as I push the watts to reach the turning point. It was worth it… the return was one of those joyous moments on the bike – slight downhill, tailwind – the feeling of ultimate freedom.

As I return to the city, the precision of the organisation was on full display, every junction, roundabout and crossing manned and controlled to offer the ultimate athlete experience.

I can’t think that many races can have a more picturesque end to the cycle than up and over the Pont de l’Assur de l’Or bridge with the Ágora building as the backdrop. Sun on my back, crowds cheering it is a wonderful end to a great ride.

Don’t give up

DON’T GIVE UP! T2, in a different location to T1, was on a quiet tree- lined street. A quick shoe change, some more suncream and I am out onto the run.

I won’t lie this is the bit I dread. It’s usually 21 painful kilometres fighting the urge to just give up. The thought of two laps including visiting the finish line three times was weighing heavy as I start to shuffle along the first pavement surrounded by others in near silence facing the task ahead.

This was lining up to be my dark moment of the race. However, I am soon pleasantly surprised as I emerge into a beautiful city park. Within 1km I am approaching the finish line (for the first of three times) and the support from the crowds is unreal.

Large road bridges snaked back and forth over the path and the supporters, sheltering in the shade of the midday sun below, create a cacophony of cheers and whoops that propels me forwards.

Before I know it, I am on my first lap of the park. Where, conveniently hiding from the sun under a bridge, I found my training buddy Charlie stretching his hamstrings. We exchange aches and pains, pledge to finish and I can honestly say from this point onwards I have the most enjoyable ‘run’ of any triathlon I’ve ever done.

Being a sunny Sunday in spring, the park is littered with Spanish families enjoying the local facilities – play parks, ponds, cafes and even a wine festival in a marquee along the way.

All keen to offer their support. Family and friends of other participants have ‘power up’ signs, cow bells and possibly my favourite sign held by a group of local lads with cans of Estrella in their other hands ‘You’ve clogged up our city, at least look like you are enjoying it!’. 

Welcome shade

It isn’t long before lap one is coming to an end, the crowds building as I pass the finish for a second time and headed out for my final lap.

Aid stations are a plenty, with water, electrolytes, energy gels and an array of snacks at every one keeping spirits high for even the most tired of runners.

Although reasonably straight the path meanders such that you never felt you were on the road to nowhere.

The beautiful trees provide dappled shade and the road bridges crossing every km or so give an achievable target to get to with the reward of 20 seconds of shade as I pass underneath each of them. 

The finish is emotional. Down the iconic Ironman finish chute with red carpet underfoot and my name illuminated above… Supporters, volunteers, other finishers and friends and family all celebrating your amazing achievement with you.

The medal made it all worthwhile – featuring the iconic Palau de les Arts Reina Sofía building (which looks like an aero helmet from the side) it hangs proudly from a wide ribbon confirming my success. There were smiles every which way I looked – athletes, supporters, volunteers. Everyone there, enjoying that moment.

When was the last time that you were present in the moment, actually there, taking in your surroundings? The sights, the smells, the taste on your tongue – soaking it all up without the distraction of a phone in hand or worrying about a deadline looming or that laundry that needs taking care of.

For me, it was Sunday 28 April. I had an idyllic almost 7 hours of just that. Me, my body doing what I had trained it to do, taking in plenty of fresh air and absorbing sunshine. It was absolute bliss and I would highly recommend it.

Valencia travel tips

Valencia has loads to offer so consider staying up in the Old Town around the Central Market if you want a city break as well as the race.

No need to carry nutrition on the run – aid stations are frequent and plentiful with water, electrolytes, gels and a range of snacks. A great early season race offering a fast course with good weather in a welcoming city.

Top Tip: Drop your running shoes at T2 before racking your bike in T1 to save your legs.

Sarah Broadley has been in the triathlon world since 2013 introduced by her son who needed someone to take him in a lake in preparation for his first Open Water triathlon at the age of eight! In 2018 she did her first triathlon – a 70.3 — and she has stayed with this middle distance ever since. Racing is her perfect excuse to travel and see new places.