I think it was during one of the heatwaves earlier in the year that Britta and I began emailing about doing this event again. Back then, it was very much in the semi-joking vein of ‘asking for a friend’ if you’re really interested. Suddenly, via another short hot period, it had arrived and we were heading up the M6 under overcast skies. The forecast, remarkably accurate, was for us to both drive up and back in the dry but rain for the event. It did duly persist for the whole 4 hours it took us to complete.
Neither Britta nor I are fond of coach trips, and particularly not the sort that wind round country lanes and generally take twice the time we were optimistically telling each other was the maximum possible but we eventually arrived at Low Wray 
on the west shore of Windermere for the start of the sprint course – 18km running and 3km swimming. In what could have been a nightmare scenario for me the toilets at the centre were locked, but for once my innards were behaving themselves with none on the usual pre-race ‘butterflies’. We tried to convince ourselves to not start right at the back but we knew that there was an uphill start, and I knew my calf muscles seem to need an easy start while they work their way through the initial cramping – hopefully relaxing later.
So it proved this time. I stumbled up the incline with Britta holding herself back until we reached the descent and it was time for me to find out how my legs were really feeling. OK, was their decision and we jogged down to the shoreline and the relief of the first swim. We geared up – swim cap, neoprene gloves, goggles – and hitched up, and plunged in.
For all she is a much better swimmer than me now, Britta does tend to get an initial burst of cold water shock that I’ve never really experienced – I just get colder later – and we paused a couple of times during this first swim for her to adjust. It still seems strange to me that we seem to perform relatively better in the swims than the runs afer all the years I’ve spent suffering through tri swims while waiting for dry land to come my way, but so it is and we hauled out after the 900m in good nick without losing more places. The subsequent run to High Wray and short second swim were soon done, and a 1500m run (much to my relief as I was expecting a 4km effort) brought us via the check point back to the shore for the final swim in Windermere. It’s a surprise to me that Britta hasnt done more LDWA ‘runs’ since she seems to relish eating during these events whereas I tend to manage a couple of mouthfuls of fruit at best. This swim saw Britta struggle with her goggles flooding and I had to eventually take over the lead role while she breaststroked her way to the shore behind me. Not a good move for speed since I have rather settled into my supporting role hanging onto Britta’s feet, which I can do fairly well with her having the extra sighting duties, but I struggle to hold a straight line rather than curving overly early towards the safety of the shore.
We were halfway through the event by now and though I was starting to struggle with cold hands fumbling with the karabiner that attaches us together on the swims, we were in a much better state than our first attempt at this route when hypothermia kicked in. This despite the weather which stayed as solid cloud and rain. The 6.5km run over to Rydal water was the next challenge. I say run, though we tried, basically living in the South Manchester flatlands neither of us routinely does proper hills (memo, we must at least walk some proper hills in training before again trying to run up them in an event) we were definitely easing our way up rather than racing. But where we could we immediately broke into a jog, though the downhill paths had turned into rock strewn, small streams by now even that did mean I was able to hang on better on the flat sections.
Checkpoint 2, and Britta again performing heroics, even somehow managing to eat crisps in lieu of salted potatoes as we jogged the section down to Rydal Water, while I stuck firmly to the isotonic drink. Thankfully, Britta’s goggles had decided to seal again and she led us through this pleasant swim with no dramas and we were again retaking places. Looking back as we got out it was good to see several pairs behind us as with only a couple of short runs and the Grasmere swim to go, the scene of our hypothermic mightmare, we were pretty sure they would stay there now.
The final 780m swim and surprisingly long 1500m run, I simply have no memory of it from our first effort, passed and we were suddenly jogging into the finish.
The photos seem to show us enjoying this event though I suspect much of this was the standing joke of how far we were going to get past the photographer before breaking into a walk. But yeah, though a struggle at times, and for all my worry my knees may simply break (in much the same way I used to think the bike might on tris), we did persist in running far more of the runny parts of the runs than on either of our previous efforts here and were rewarded with our fastest time.