It's race day, Shepparton 70.3 is here.
We have risen before the sun, breakfasted, packed and hit the road early. My bike sits ready in transition, waiting it's turn to be unleashed, my mind is focussed, and my body is ready to rock, it's time for redemption.I have been waiting for this day for just over a year.
But, none of this matters because we are sitting on the side of the road, 35km away, the car is overheated and race I've been working towards for the past 12 months is slipping away as each minute passes.
You see, my first assault upon the Shepparton 70.3 course was less the spectacular. Back then I was overconfident, and ended up humbled by the third discipline. A failure to consume enough during the ride meant that a run off the bike was not going to happen. Barely a kilometre into the half marathon and it was over. I went from racing to surviving, no longer a battle against the course and myself but instead, against the final cut-off time limit. After three and three quarter hours of competing and nearly another three hours of enduring I crossed the finish line and collected my medal and finisher's towel, and also set my sights on finishing the race next time.
We've moved further up the road now, maybe another ten km before being halted again by that bastard dial on the dashboard. Normally it sits happily just below horizontal, however, today of all days, it has again risen sharply to the vicinity of 11-o-clock. Fortunately, we've arrived at a truck rest stop and I'm able to fill a couple of drink bottles with non-potable water. They will no longer be useful for keeping me hydrated, but the car instead. Unfortunately, you can't refill the radiator until the engine is fully cooled and we don't have nearly the time to wait - these bottles will only be used in the last resort.
Time is ticking away, the km are as well but not nearly as fast as I would like. Many other cars are passing us by as we limp along, all heading to the same destination. I try not to get caught looking at the clock on my phone, the wife is stressed enough and does not need to worry further. It is "only a race" I reassure her.
Finally, we arrive at the final intersection before the race venue, a quick scan off traffic ahead, lining up to enter this final stretch of road and we quickly realise, this would be one hurdle too many. There is no way the engine would survive that stop/start queue. U-turn and into the service lane and the car's job is done. Somehow, the wife has nursed the vehicle that whole way, whilst battling her fraying nerves to get us here. Now, it's up to me to repay that effort with some of my own. I had planned this day to be successful, now it has to be!
The hour I wanted to set up transition and chill out has been reduced to 15 minutes but this proves to be plenty as somehow I'm able to efficiently set everything up, re-inflate the tyres, set out my nutrition, sunscreen and even find time to offer advice to a fellow competitor. The journey here was long, and so too is the line for the bathroom. Luckily I find the "staff" facilities behind the registration tent before they realise non-staff members are using them!
Wetsuit on (it's been a while!) swim cap, goggles, bag dropped off and I'm in the water awaiting my wave start. Haven't even had time yet to be nervous.
Shepparton is an interesting place to swim, there is zero visibility below the waterline, and for roughly 40% of the swim it's the same above the waterline due to having to swim into the rising sun. I had seeded myself fairly aggressively in the middle of the pack and spent a good portion of the time fighting for my racing line. Messy as it got, I was able to hold a fairly steady stroke rate and exited the water in 42 minutes (a little slower than last year).
Onto the bike I quickly got down onto the aerobars and settled in. The screen on my Garmin displayed my cadence in large font. My plan was to maintain this value as close to 90 throughout whilst holding a medium/hard effort. Another field on the display was telling me that my speed was down (averaging 25km/h) but I was still passing more people than were overtaking me so I dismissed it as just being a tough day for everyone. Every 350 calories an alarm told me it was time to eat and I followed this instruction diligently. Mindful of the past, I was constantly leaning forward to sip from my hydration bottle and during the course of the ride I refilled it twice from the aide stations. Ironically, this diligence almost proved my undoing as one volunteers grip on the offered bottle was firmer than expected and when he failed to release it, my front wheel was pulled sharply to the left. A brief wobble and a sigh of relief the moment was past.
We have risen before the sun, breakfasted, packed and hit the road early. My bike sits ready in transition, waiting it's turn to be unleashed, my mind is focussed, and my body is ready to rock, it's time for redemption.I have been waiting for this day for just over a year.
But, none of this matters because we are sitting on the side of the road, 35km away, the car is overheated and race I've been working towards for the past 12 months is slipping away as each minute passes.
You see, my first assault upon the Shepparton 70.3 course was less the spectacular. Back then I was overconfident, and ended up humbled by the third discipline. A failure to consume enough during the ride meant that a run off the bike was not going to happen. Barely a kilometre into the half marathon and it was over. I went from racing to surviving, no longer a battle against the course and myself but instead, against the final cut-off time limit. After three and three quarter hours of competing and nearly another three hours of enduring I crossed the finish line and collected my medal and finisher's towel, and also set my sights on finishing the race next time.
We've moved further up the road now, maybe another ten km before being halted again by that bastard dial on the dashboard. Normally it sits happily just below horizontal, however, today of all days, it has again risen sharply to the vicinity of 11-o-clock. Fortunately, we've arrived at a truck rest stop and I'm able to fill a couple of drink bottles with non-potable water. They will no longer be useful for keeping me hydrated, but the car instead. Unfortunately, you can't refill the radiator until the engine is fully cooled and we don't have nearly the time to wait - these bottles will only be used in the last resort.
Time is ticking away, the km are as well but not nearly as fast as I would like. Many other cars are passing us by as we limp along, all heading to the same destination. I try not to get caught looking at the clock on my phone, the wife is stressed enough and does not need to worry further. It is "only a race" I reassure her.
Finally, we arrive at the final intersection before the race venue, a quick scan off traffic ahead, lining up to enter this final stretch of road and we quickly realise, this would be one hurdle too many. There is no way the engine would survive that stop/start queue. U-turn and into the service lane and the car's job is done. Somehow, the wife has nursed the vehicle that whole way, whilst battling her fraying nerves to get us here. Now, it's up to me to repay that effort with some of my own. I had planned this day to be successful, now it has to be!
The hour I wanted to set up transition and chill out has been reduced to 15 minutes but this proves to be plenty as somehow I'm able to efficiently set everything up, re-inflate the tyres, set out my nutrition, sunscreen and even find time to offer advice to a fellow competitor. The journey here was long, and so too is the line for the bathroom. Luckily I find the "staff" facilities behind the registration tent before they realise non-staff members are using them!
Wetsuit on (it's been a while!) swim cap, goggles, bag dropped off and I'm in the water awaiting my wave start. Haven't even had time yet to be nervous.
Shepparton is an interesting place to swim, there is zero visibility below the waterline, and for roughly 40% of the swim it's the same above the waterline due to having to swim into the rising sun. I had seeded myself fairly aggressively in the middle of the pack and spent a good portion of the time fighting for my racing line. Messy as it got, I was able to hold a fairly steady stroke rate and exited the water in 42 minutes (a little slower than last year).
Onto the bike I quickly got down onto the aerobars and settled in. The screen on my Garmin displayed my cadence in large font. My plan was to maintain this value as close to 90 throughout whilst holding a medium/hard effort. Another field on the display was telling me that my speed was down (averaging 25km/h) but I was still passing more people than were overtaking me so I dismissed it as just being a tough day for everyone. Every 350 calories an alarm told me it was time to eat and I followed this instruction diligently. Mindful of the past, I was constantly leaning forward to sip from my hydration bottle and during the course of the ride I refilled it twice from the aide stations. Ironically, this diligence almost proved my undoing as one volunteers grip on the offered bottle was firmer than expected and when he failed to release it, my front wheel was pulled sharply to the left. A brief wobble and a sigh of relief the moment was past.
Toward the end of the cycle the questions began.
- Is that my leg beginning to tighten up?
- Have I fuelled correctly this time?
- Did I go out too hard again?
- Will the wife let me back into the car if I am forced to walk again this year?
Bike racked again, running shoes on and food stuffed in the back pocket I'm ready to go. I'm hearing people calling out my name, the cheering seems to come from all sides and I'm running comfortably towards the lake and the start of the 3 laps. As soon as I hit the run course I see my name in chalk on the footpath and as I stride over it, I know this is going to be a good day.
I have my nutrition plan in mind and I stick to it, every aide station, grab a water - sip and tip over head, then grab a sports drink. Every second aide station, also grab a gel. Most importantly, this year I was able to enjoy it as well. So many familiar faces and, whenever possible I'd call out names, give and receive encouragement and I made sure I didn't miss any requested high-fives with the kids.
Each time around the track the crowd was great and the volunteers were excellent.
Just over half way, my left calf begins to bite, a bit of a reoccurring issue I have. Backing of the pace and focussing on technique proves an adequate solution to manage it this time.
Before too long, I've collected my set three silicone bands and am able to turn right onto the red carpet to stop the clock.
A year ago, I had run this same stretch in pain, gritting my teeth against the threatening cramps shooting through my fuel starved muscles, this time I was jubilant.
In the recovery tent I checked my watch for the numbers. Turns out I had actually averaged over 30km/h on the bike as that split was under 3 hours, and I had also broken 2 hours for the half marathon (a feat that took my 3 years to achieve in a stand-alone race) and, overall, I had beaten last year's time by almost an hour!
5:3.2:37
Shepp - 1; Me - 1
Next year must be the tie breaker I guess!
ps. got the car home with no further incident, slowly and with many a scheduled rest stop, and since, that temperature needle on the dash has not again strayed North of horizontal...
Great work.
ReplyDeleteAwesome account.
Here's to the 2014 decider!