Event: Castle to Coast 2025
Date: 19th July 2025
– A Long, Wet, Wild Day Out with Friends
When people ask what Castle to Coast is, I usually say, “It’s not a race – it’s a long day out with friends.” And while that’s technically true (it’s more a sportive, than a race), it turns out that a ‘long day out’ can still include torrential rain, cramps, laughter, PBs, and maybe a tiny bit of competitive fire.
This year’s edition kicked off with a rainy morning at Dorney Lake. We were already wet before we even got into the water, but hey – if you’re going to be soaked, might as well swim, right?
The rolling swim start was a nice touch – no washing machine mayhem, just a calm entry when you’re ready. High fives to Paula, Gary, and Jasmin, and then we were off. Al and I swam separately, as per our plan, and both had solid swims. Al came out grinning, having clearly smashed a PB – a great start to the day!
T1 was a soggy affair, but thanks to the genius idea of bin bags for our gear (yes that genius was me, haha) our socks and shoes were actually dry (for about three minutes). As we rolled out, the sky really opened up. I mean biblical rain. At times, I could barely see anything but Al’s wheel in front of me – which, to be fair, was exactly the wheel I was trying to hold onto anyway.
The first feed station was an oasis. Not just for the hot coffee (thank you Nick – hero!) but for the friendly faces – Sheena, Peter, Jasmin, and Nick again – who lifted our spirits in the downpour. A quick caffeine refuel and chat, and we were off again, into what I had conveniently forgotten was a very hilly bike course.
Al, a true machine on two wheels, dropped the hammer more than once. I did my best to cling on, legs burning, lungs questioning my life choices. But we made it – soggy, slightly broken, but still smiling – into T2.
Cue sunshine. Of course.
As we started the run out of Hassocks, the sun decided to show up in full force, just as my quads decided they were done for the day (trying to hold on to Al’s wheel has its consequences I realised). Cramping up on the early climbs, including the beast that is Ditchling Beacon, things got real quiet from my side. Al tried to cheer me up, but I think the silence spoke volumes…
Eventually, something magical (or maybe just caffeine-fuelled desperation) kicked in, and I got my second wind. We ran the downhills, power-walked the climbs, and soaked in the views on the way to Brighton. That is, until… the stairs.
Whoever designed those stairs on the trail clearly had a dark sense of humour. They broke Al. Truly. But we had a deal – finish line, then straight into the sea. And a deal’s a deal.
We stumbled, shuffled, and finally ran into Brighton, both grinning (sort of), medals placed around our necks, and straight into the sea we went. Pure bliss. To everyone’s entertainment we then couldn’t get out of the water, on our hands and knees being thrown around by the waves. Hilarious to watch for sure!
Despite it not being a race, Al and I may have accidentally pushed ourselves harder than planned. Al came in 9th in his age group, and somehow – probably due to him dragging me up those hills on the bike – I ended up 1st in my age group.
They say triathlon is an individual sport but I really don’t think so – without the amazing support from Gary and Paula who were with us from the start, the day would have been a lot longer and transitions a lot less smooth. Massive thank you to both – you made all the difference!
All in all: a mad, wet, glorious adventure. Would I do it again? Ask me again in a couple of days but knowing me it’s probably a yes 🙂
