Ironman

The seas were angry that day my friends...
Hey! I've been writing this blog for like a year now, I'm entitled to one Seinfeld quote, besides, it's appropriate.

Race day had arrived finally, it's just before 6am and pitch black outside the pools of light cast by the venue spotlights. In transition, my bike is finally loaded up with the all I'll need to keep both myself and it rolling for the 6 hours I plan to be on it. Today, for the first time the rear wheel's spokes have been covered by two polycarbonate shields to cut the turbulence and create a more aerodynamic profile. In normal race conditions, a disk wheel can be a real advantage, in high winds however, the wheel can catch the cross winds and make it very difficult for the rider to hold their line. Today, the winds are up.

There had been news the previous day that the swim course had been altered due to the dangerous conditions so we were prepared for the change. Waiting in the port-a-loo line I heard another announcement that the swim was changing again, the plan B of a two lap triangle swim was now now reduced to a single lap. The water was deemed too dangerous for athletes to be in for the full duration.

As I rested, the team are ready

As I met up with the rest of my training group and listened to the further announcements about the race alterations and the adverse weather I laid down and rested. From all accounts, it was to be a tough day out and as the wind whipped the various branding flags around I noted that this was the calmest I had ever been before any race. I was ready to do this.




On the sand and in the water before the start I caught up and chatted with many of the people I had met and trained with since joining this sport, many about to begin their first Ironman and again it struck me that none seemed nervous. Standing on this precipice should be a daunting thing but the time and sweat we had put into the lead-up had given us all the confidence to stare it down.

More than 2000 of the fittest athletes were launched from the shallow beach, not with a cannon nor the traditional air horn, instead, Mike Reilly shouting over the PA system "Go Go!"
Almost immediately, two things happened. Fellow athletes tried desperately to disprove the laws of physics that state that no two bodies can occupy the same space; and the seal of my trusty goggles proved to be less trust worthy. Unable to see with my right eye and only partially with the left I gave up trying to spot the directional buoys and instead blindly (hah) followed the thrashing feet of the multitudes ahead of me. The plan work fine until we all reached a complete standstill at the top of the course. Treading water in one - two metre swells 800 metres of shore against a wall of like-minded (and increasingly grumpy) competitors was never in my race plan, the experience did have the happy bonus of allowing me to investigate and fix my goggle problem.

Half an hour after entering the water I was back on the sand with a bit of beach to cover due to the strong currents on the return. More the past several months I had been successfully nursing a repeating strain to my left calf. Every time my program called for a run I would wear a compressive calf brace. The injury had not returned for months - until I started running off the sand. Within the first few strides I felt it begin to tighten up again and I'm not too proud to admit that I dropped the F-bomb. I could not believe that I had done everything right to get here, when it had given me trouble I had rested it. I had taken precautions to reduce the incidence and the week prior to the race I had followed the program and tapered to be ready. Now, with all of my friends and family here to support me somewhere along the 220km route ahead I was facing the very real prospect of dumb luck bringing me undone. Smiling as I ran through the crowd and into transition and out onto the bike course I tried to put the potential failure of the run out of my head and just focus on the task at hand.

I love cycling.



I don't know what it is, the freedom to fly perhaps, I just know it works for me. Facing a possible 6 hours in the saddle might be daunting, but at least this time I was going somewhere. For almost a year, the only times I have accomplished this feat it has been in the garage with the bike mounted on a stationary trainer. There was no blockbuster movie to watch today, but the was scenery  and a bit of a blockbuster headwind in my face.

Heading out of T1

Conscious that this was a long ride and reminded of the coaches words that the key is to get to the run fresh enough to run I never once checked my pace on the ride. Instead, my Garmin was set to tell me about my cadence and to remind me to eat every time it calculated I had burned 350 calories (Ollie tells us to set it for 300 but when I trialled that I just couldn't stomach the volume I was consuming - 350 is my compromise between the coach's instruction and my tummy's ultimatum) Keeping to a high cadence and a mid range perceived effort proved rather difficult due to the sheer number of cyclists on the course. Triathlon rules prevent drafting, for this race, the illegal draft distance to the leading bike is 12 meters and you have 25 seconds to close that gap to complete a pass. To avoid riding illegally I was constantly having to drop back (and hope the cyclists drafting off me did the same) or speed up to overtake groups of cyclists, each time worrying that I would pay for that extra effort somewhere deeper into the race.
Near the bike turn around point there is a tunnel that goes under a river, due to the depth it must reach to navigate below the river bed the roadway becomes rather steep. Descending into the yellowed light the first time had me wondering if I should have reached for the bike's base bar instead of remaining n the aero extensions. As the speed increased and I flew passed others I just gritted my teeth and held one.

It. Was. Awesome.

I have no idea of what speeds were achieved as my watch was relying solely on a GPS signal, all I know is that my bike descended like a demon.

My support crew

Back towards Frankston with the wind at my back and again the ride became fun, until the crosswinds picked up, with many gusts catching the solid disk on the back of my bike The bike course is a two lap affair so as I rolled back into town and the cheering crowds I knew I had two more 45km straights to complete, the first into the wind, the final one with the wind. I had noted a number landmarks on the first trip around, this time I tried to remember them to give mean indication of how much of the track lay ahead. At this task I failed dismally as at many of the undulations I thought I spotted the ramp to the tunnel only to approach and find another hill. Finally on the final 45km and ready for mother nature to assist me home I discovered that the wind direction had changed, it would again be a battle. Half way back and into the crosswinds again and I was ready to get off this bike. Feet and back tightening up I had to stop peddling a number of times just to stretch them. I was a very grateful camper when I was able to hand the machine over to the catcher and run back into transition.

As I indicated, my back was in spasm and the arches of my feet tight, however, the 180km on the bike turned out to be just what the doctor ordered for my strained calf. 5:44 of cycling had done the trick, a few stretches in the change tent for my back I was off on the final leg of this journey.
If you've read some of my previous entries you'll know that running is not my strongest link and my last recon run of this course showed that I need to conserve plenty in the tank for the 3rd 10km section where the hills kick in. This day, as I began the marathon I was still feeling pretty good, especially when I spotted a number of family members who had come out to support me on the day. Holding a decent pace I ticked of the kilometres and just lapped up the energy being dosed out by the crowds. It was amazing the number of people out there cheering us on and a good many of them took the time to read our race bibs and personalize their encouragement with our names. The marathon course is dotted with 20 aid stations and my goal was to roll through each one, grab a drink at each, ice when I could, a gel at every second one and thank the volunteers.

Late in the run, still feeling good - Thumbs up!

So much of my focus had been to get to Brighton (indication the end of the hills and a flat run home) that when I got there and found I was still running and it was still daylight I was pretty excited. This was home ground here, territory I had run many times and, with the curvature of the bay it was fun to try and spot where exactly the finish line was in the distance.

Approaching the finish line, still running well and though the sun was low in the sky it was still tidily above the horizon. Ten hours and forty-seven minutes after the chaos of the mass start I heard Mike Reilly calling out over the public address system again. Ironman. I had not only achieved what I set out to do 12 months ago,I had smashed my goals. I had wanted to finish within 12 hours, even accounting for the reduced swim I had done this easily. More over, I wanted to finish on my terms, I wanted to take the course on, to beat it and I had done this too. According to my race stats, during the final leg of the race I had actually run down over 100 competitors, 30 of them from within my age group, and I had loved every moment of it.

So, that's it. It's all over.
I guess that just leaves one thing to do...

Do it all again next year!

A Word from the wife

Well I guess it is almost time for the big show. I think back to last year,  volunteering at the aide station with Andy, the kids and the rest of the amazing TA crew. I remember watching Andy every time a runner came past from Crowie to Barney, the look on his face said it all, I knew then and there we would be back again the following year but I also knew it wouldn't be as volunteers. I must admit I had some reservations....... although not all of them centred around the sheer cost of this mission (luckily for us and thanks to Tri alliance Andy won his spot) The rest of my reservations centred around the distance. Over the last 12 months my amazing husband has more than proved to me and everyone else that he has got what it takes, not only that but his sheer determination and unyielding stubbornness is sure to see him through.
    Our journey to IM Melbourne is almost over, I say ours because I wouldn't want to be
 anywhere but by his side as he pushes himself to his limits to make his dream come true. I can't speak highly enough of the awesome team at Tri Alliance. They have encouraged and guided him and their faith in him has never wavered.
    A few months ago for our anniversary Andy wrote a blog all about us, well now its all about you. Go out and take the glory that you have worked so hard for, swim like a fish, ride like the wind and just remember one foot in front of the other all the way to the end. No matter what I will be there at the finish line with open arms ready to celebrate your amazing achievement with you. You are an amazing father, a wonderful husband and an exceptional human being, but above all else you are my hero. I love you.

The eve

Well, that's it.
Today we checked the bike into transition and dropped off both the run and ride bags. Although both bags appeared to be quite lean on contents I can't think of anything else that should have been added. Perhaps the discrepancy is the omission of bike shoes from the bag as I've clipped them to the peddles instead - at least, this is what I'm hoping. Others have packed piles of nutrition and bottles in their kit but my plan is to use my gel flasks and I'll load them and strap to the bike during the final prep tomorrow. Also, I am looking to run light, meaning not carrying excess with me - I'll have a spare bottle cage on the bike to pick up emergency fluids and during the run I'll be surviving off the aide stations. As a precaution, I've packed a pair of caffeinated gels in my tritop in case I start to feel flat or drop one of my main fuel sources.

Since getting home I've now also packed my "street clothes" bag for after the race, set aside my kit for the  race and transition set up. My flasks are filled and ready to go and I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to consuming that volume of syrupy sweetness (mainly as the appropriate language for that description is not appropriate for this family timeslot), water bottles ready to be filled and hydration tabs tucked in the side pocket.

So, that's it.
As far as I can tell, all of the boxes are ticked, there's nothing left to do but rest.

Well, there is one final task, and it's an important one
Over the past few days, and especially the last 24 hours we've received so many words of support and encouragement from friends, family, fellow team mates, and fellow competitors whom we don't even know. It's been an amazing journey and I would just like to reiterate to all of you - without you, none of this would have been possible.

So, thank you.

The finisher's photo tomorrow evening may be focussed on me, I may be the only one in the frame and it'll be my name called out by Mike Reilley but it'll be your support that has carried me there.

Thank you

Discipline

Triathlon is a sport of multiple disciplines.
There are the obvious three, swimming, cycling and running and many people speak of a fourth - nutrition.

In order to successfully navigate from the start line on the beach to the finish line of any triathlon you need these basic skills, when you start to look at longer events, nutrition becomes more relevant. If you are planning on tackling an Ironman the order of importance may actually be reversed with how you fuel your body being most important. Get your food plan wrong and you're in a world of trouble.

Whilst I agree with the above I believe there is another discipline that I have not seen anyone else note, one that precludes these others (IMHO). For mine, the first discipline of triathlon is getting off your ass and doing it. That's it, that's the basic requirement. If you want to be able to complete an open water swim, you'd better get up and do something about it. Thinking about having to ride your bike then be able to run, get out of the house and do it. The event you're facing will be challenging, granted, but by getting moving early and consistently and the hard work is done before the starter pulls the trigger.

In my pathway to the race on Sunday I have had to make many compromises.
I have a full time job, I have a wife (an amazing understanding, supportive and beautiful one who tends to read these musings - but I digress...) and two kids. I also have had a training program that dictated sessions chewing up countless hours per week, recently up to 8 hours for a single session. To be able to fit all of these requirements into the hours we are all allocated I've had to be flexible in what I consider to be waking hours. Because I wanted to spend my weekends with my family, instead of joining the rest of my training mates on long rides and runs I tended to rise well before the sun and churned out the miles in the garage. My alarm set based upon how long I needed to ride and what time the family's activities were scheduled I would get in the few hours of sleep I could. Before the final long session preceding this weeks taper my phone was sounding at 2am.

Let me just put it out there - I'm not a fan of morning. Period.

I do have my goals set and I love my sport therefore I had to get off my ass and get the job done.
The same principle applies to winter training - if you want to arrive at the start line ready to roll and enjoy the day you had better have done the work when the opportunities were presented.

Five years ago I signed up for my first triathlon, a mini "Fun Distance" race with a 150m swim, 5km ride and a 1.5km run. I survived the swim, rode my converted mountain bike and peddled in my runners and knew nothing of sports watches or elastic laces.
In summary, I had no idea what I was getting myself into - I loved it.

Fast forward and I'm now on the brink of starting the big show, chasing the footsteps of the sports elite (we are giving them a 20 minute head-start after all). We will be launched in the early hours of Sunday morning and are presented the challenge of reaching the finish line, 140.6 miles distant, within the time limit of 17 hours.

 They say that good things come to those who wait; I say, if you want something awesome, you'd better get off your ass and go get it.

This finishing chute for Ironman Melbourne, 2013

Mission Accomplished...

Well, that's it then right!?
Two weeks out from Ironman Melbourne and over this past weekend we've completed our final long training sessions. Saturday was a 6 hour ride (of the stationary trainer in my garage) followed by a 10km run-off-the-bike, then Sunday we carpooled to the race venue in Frankston for a long open water swim and a long run along the IM course. Next week is taper week meaning no more weekend long ride or run so I guess that means we're done now - right?

This was kinda the feeling I had leading into the weekend, rising from bed at 2am in order to complete my ride/run sessions early and still be available to the family for the rest of the day. It was difficult, but it was just one more time.

The signage is appearing around town

Running along the race course on Sunday was again going to be tough, but it was also the last time (until race day!). Due to a required bathroom stop between the swim and run I missed the group I was supposed to start with, in fact, whilst trying to organise myself I watched the next group leave as well. As I finally did start to run, the only guys remaining in the Frankston carpark were those who were carpooling back to do a shorter run, them and the Tri Alliance support van. The whole point to the staggered starts were to ensure everyone running today could meet the van at the scheduled stops en-route and minimize the gaps that would naturally occur between the fast guys and those of us - um, not so quick. The last time I had done this run I had also been the last to leave but, since my running has improved markedly, I had been able to catch up and finish in the middle of the group. Naturally I figured I would just have to work a little harder this time but it would still work out. Besides, last time I hadn't carried any hydration, using only only van and the various water fountains along the trail - today, I had my new race belt with two water bottles loaded with concentrated electrolyte solutions. No problem.

The problems began when I arrived at the first drink stop and still hadn't even seen another runner yet. Not wanting to hold up the support van from those ahead who would need it I ran through without stopping. Some time later, as I approached the next drink stop I was still the tail end of the group by some distance so again I waived off the van, this time, as I ran past I called out to not wait up for me, I had the hydration I needed.
By now I was finally seeing other guys ahead and was slowly catching up but it was taking a lot longer than I had expected. 17km in fact before I was in the group, almost exactly half of my long run had been catch up and we were just about to enter the rolling hills of the course. I had been holding a good pace and feeling comfortable. This was how I'd run this track two weeks earlier, but this time, as we got to the hills the effort I'd put in early came back to claim its price.
The final third of the run was completed at a pace almost a minute slower per km than the first half. Come race day, there will be a further eight km to cover...
Before that run yesterday, I've been travelling beautifully, completing all of my training and build, including an awesome result at the Sufferfest last week. The last long run turned has just delivered one final lesson - don't get cocky!

Just when you think you're done, BOOM, wake up call.

Luckily this discovery came when it did, instead of during the race. It's given me a chance to revise my plan off attack as now I know that I need to leave reserves to cover the third 10km section of the run, start slowly, get through the hills and then, depending upon what's left in the tank, upon up for the final stretch home.

Finish long run at BBQ with no energy to eat anything...

The time my mother stole a car and then went to jail

It happened many years ago when we were living in Melbourne's far northern 'burbs.

My brothers and I were at the Stables shopping centre with Dad, I can't remember what we were there for, groceries or perhaps a couple serves of minimum chips, what I do remember is what happened next.

Back in the day, my Dad didn't drive (sound familiar?) so it wasn't too much of a surprise when Mom appeared and offered us a ride home. I guess we were tired or just full of deep fried goodness as we jumped at the chance to avoid having to walk home. As we walked across the car park to where she had parked our old Mitsubishi Magna Mom spotted another vehicle, one she really liked. It was a green Toyota Torago and as she made a bee line for it she exclaimed;“I always wanted one of these!”

It was bad enough when she decided she wanted a closer look at this dream car, worse when she next began peering in through the windows , oohing and ahhing at the fittings and upholstery. When she thought she should try her car key in the door lock we all thought she had finally lost it.

Ok, so the jury is still out on that point, but what is undeniable is the shock we experienced when the Magna key unlocked the Toyota!

I remember backing away from the scene as Mom brazenly used her amazing luck to open all the doors and then start the engine as well, and then called at to her retreating family that we should take it for a drive.

That was the day my Mom stole a car.

Ok, so she actually didn't steal the car, she had traded in the Magna and purchased the Torago earlier that day and had arrived at the shopping complex to surprise us with it. And she had us all totally convinced.

I remember this little prank to this day, the fear of getting caught and the trouble that would follow. It was terrible so of course, I couldn't wait to do it to my kids!

Only this time, the prank was filmed

Enjoy

Oh, about Mom going to jail, that part is true but happened much later when she accepted an administration role at Port Philip Prison.

Suffer in your tri shorts

I always like a challenge and I'm generally overconfident in my abilities so, when I first heard there was a triathlon officially branded “Sufferfest” I was immediately interested. We were at one of our Ironman program meetings and lead up race options were being discussed, most at the the table were targetting the Geelong Long Course which was scheduled 6 weeks before the Melbourne IM. As per my last blog enrty, my plans were to act as cheer squad at that race so I wouldn't be joining the field, then Ollie mentioned the Sufferfest and added that, being three weeks out from IM Melbourne,, it was just about the perfect timing. As he continued to talk and about race prep and the training load going forward I was already making use of my smartphone's web capabilities and looking up the event. On the way home I told the wife the good news, holiday in Warrnambool!

To start this report I will skip past the – let's call it discussion – that preceded the aggreeance that this was a good idea and begin with the road trip.

Friday before the race:

The plan was to take some time to enjoy the trip so the wife and I out in for leave for the Friday preceding and the Monday following and booked accommodation accordingly, initially figuring, even if we didn't stay over on the Sunday night, it would be good to have a place to crash and clean up at after the race. To ensure the kids didn't miss too much school, we would pick 'em up after the bell on Friday and head out. As luck would have it though, The Boy had his Year 7 camp on the same week and would be returning on the Friday afternoon. This was a mixed blessing; one- he would already have a bag packed and ready to roll, however; two- he would be buggered and faced with another long drive. Fortunately, this second point made for some quite funny vision in the back seat as he doggedly fought with the sandman whilst we crossed the Westgate bridge. (I have footage, may post later...). Unfortunately, due to the school camp buses returning late, we found ourselves leaving town with the entire population on Melbourne...

We arrived at our destination close to 10:30 pm Friday night.

Saturday morning:

Over the course of the previous days and weeks I had spent a bit of time checking out the literature being sent by the Sufferfest organisers, including course maps and profile. The most recent one included a link to a “MapMyRide” page for the bike course which illustrated the hill we would need to climb on each of the four laps. On either side it was a little over a kilometre long with the front side being the steeper, but, from the summary it was ranked a category 5 with an average gradient of 2.1%. No problem.

After the sun had come up (because I left my bike lights at home) I went out to ride the course and become familiar with it. That's when I first encountered this:

That's not 2.1% (later someone told me they believed it to be 8% at least)

I had just purchased a pair of gel flasks which I plan to use during the big race so would trial them here. I had added a couple of gels to one and strapped its holster to my top tube. The first time I used it I found it was a little fiddly to get back in whilst rolling and also, the gel was a little too thick to easily access via the spout. I made note of these facts and decided to try to water down the gels slightly and, upon returning home, apply a velcro patch to the flask and holster the ore easily place it before restrapping it in.

Ride done – difficult but manageable so happy – returned to our apartment for a few hours.

At the race briefing, that race director rated the return side of this hill to be “where we sort the men from the boys” as it's a gradual but solid climb for about 1.5km. He also warned of the severe crosswinds that are likely to hit as you're descending at “easily over 70km/h” which will push you over to the other side of the road. Oh, we also can have wild rabbits darting across it so be careful. He continued by informing us that the run starts with a pretty brutal hill climb then back down to the beach where it's flat out to the breakwater and back (read this as, there is a nasty climb on the return trip aswell) oh, and there can be snakes out there on the run course – it's not ideal but we'll just have to deal with it.

Now I get why it's called Sufferfest, little less happy but now excited to see what I can do.

Sunday – Race Day

Nervous, excited, ready (?)

Let's start with a question, when was the last time you were at a race and ,upon visiting the portaloos, you found there to be no line and plenty of toilet paper. Great start! Especially since this would be the first time I raced in my new wetsuit and, due to its tight fit, I'd been worried about the time I would need to get into it vs the time available minus time stuck in bathroom queues. One tick for race organisers, second big tick for the sunscreen stand, complete with two 1L pump bottles and mirrors to ensure completely rubbed in.

Job done suited up with time to spare!

2km swim – things I learned. It's very hard to spot a predominantly white banned placed on the side of a white bridge (these were to be used as guides as to where to swim under the bridge; I never did see the one on the return trip)

Find a landmark for the swim exit before the race – by the time we were heading back to the beach the sun had risen directly behind the swim exit which totally cut visibility to silhouettes of the skyline.

80km bike – things I learned. Check your Garmin. I looked at it upon completing the second ascent of the hill to guage how long I could expect the ride to take. Apparently the first lap took 39 minutes, fine, this'll be a 3:20 bike leg. Completing the second lap I checked again to see if I was maintaining my pace, 39 minutes still displayed... Crap, that's the swim time, must have hit Stop instead of Lap in T1, fine, hit Start and continued. 3 laps down, interested to see how long an actual timed lap took, Garmin tells me 39 minutes – AARGH! I hit a bunch of buttons and finally get it to start timing, then another button or two to get it to be timing the bike leg and continued the final lap of the bike.

Nutrition – have a back up plan. I had thought to pack a couple extra gels in either my spare flask, the food box on my bike, or in the pocket of my tri top. In the end, since I had successfully tested the bike mounted flask the day before and had addressed the flow rate problem I decided to keep it simple. As I returning from the cycle turn point the first time I took my first portion of gel and returned the flask to the holster and when to strap it down only to watch it leap out and hit the ground. I swore loudly but continued forward, switching to a new plan to focus on ,hydration and grab the electrolyte drinks from the aid stations instead of the water I had planned on. Not really a great plan so, when I spotted the flask on the side of the road in lap two I actually stopped and grabbed it, this time, placing in my front food box instead of the traitorous holster (it had one job!)

Loose tri tops – I guess I've lost more weight/size than I thought. I'm wearing an XL Elite (read athlete cut) top, yet in the wind at speed the neckline and chest area of the suit flutter. My evidence that it might be a little too loose came in the form of a butterfly that inadvertently crossed my path a little too close and was gobbled up by my neckline! I had the unzip briefly to clear it. (Aren't you supposed to get butterflies before the event!?)

20km run – things I learned

Check the course before race day. They were not kidding about that hill! It just kept rising, turned a corner, then rose again.

Careful what you wish for. When a group of kids at an aid station ask you if you want a splash, be prepared. Almost 19km in I said to the them “yeah, go on” then got hit solidly by about 8 to 10 cups of water courtesy of their young enthusiasm and the fact they were all holding 2 cup each. I felt for the dude following me as I doubt they had a chance to reload in time to offer him a drink or splash.

Wrap up

This was the inaugural event for Sufferfest, there was only a small field and yet it was an exceptionally friendly one. At most of the races I'm at I know a lot of people, on course as well as off, so there's always been great support. Today, there were only a handful of familiar faces, yet a surprisingly large number of fellow competitors on course were encouraging each other, or at least popping a thumbs up when fatigue made words difficult. There were apparently 153 volunteers out there, meaning the ratio to competitors was very high.

The course was tough but fun with just the right level of difficulty and, upon crossing the finish line the support was great. I was immediately handed a bottle of water, box of chocolate milk and an electrolyte drink, I was given a Sufferefest necklace (like a small dog tag I guess) and someone found me in the crowd to hand me my finishers t-shirt. Fruit salad and ice cream devoured whilst soaking in an ice bath and the day was done.

The plan coming into this event was to roll around the course and trial the nutrition plan – I finished by giving it a fairly solid crack and, according to the race commentator, finished in a time of 5:18.

Hopefully I've learned the lessons I needed to today, I fix the problems I encountered and, in three weeks from now, I'll have a new medal to add to my growing collection.

Can't wait to go around again next year!