2008 port mac. Did it because my friends were doing it.
IMSA 2010. Did it because I did not want a motorbike (ok, scooter) accident to be a life changing event.
2011 IM France. Did it because Jo wanted to and hell I had just done one with a broken shoulder so my not a mountain.
IMSA 2012, also known as "ironman Katrina". Go back and do it properly, go sub 11, just missed but raced really well.
IM Los cabos 2013, first race there looked good for Jo to come back from being ill and hey, tequila!!!!!!!First sub 11 on a very hard day - I thought I had pushed myself to my limit, but apparently NOT!
IMSA 2014 - punch a ticket to Kona. Race hard from the start.
But overriding all of that is to do something a former rugby player with a fucked up back should not do. I love the training, I love the people and I love the eating. I also love my wife and we do it all together. Oh and I love the velodrome, I'm fast you know.
Everything about my prep had gone well, one or two mishaps but all in all very well.
Sweating the little things
My prep was way more detailed and diligent that is usual for me. I monitored, I tracked, I counted, I analysed. I even overdid it at one point, me overdoing it.... I know!
I sweated the details a great deal so I would not have to on race day.
I did all this for one reason, I was going to SA with the intention to qualify for Kona. That I even can think like that is testament to how far I have come under the guidance of Sean Foster. But was I kidding myself, thinking too much of what hard training can do for limited talent? Well surprisingly enough no. The SA course suited me great, wind and no real hills. So rough swim, tough bike and flat run. After I entered they changed the course, put hills into the bike, 60kms of the. Imagine kew but with double the elevation, nice.
Winning it on the swim
Over the past two years I have worked hard on my swim, or rather I have worked smart on my swim. Technique, technique, technique and strength. My aim was to swim sub 55 without blowing myself apart. That, in my own headed sounded ridiculous two years ago but is now a reality for me. Think you can't do that, well you are wrong. In the weeks before the race we had been swimming open water at Port Melbourne most Fridays. On a perfect day, after I had had a few days rest due to illness I turned up and smashed out a 51min 3.8k, I was stunned by that but very excited about what I may do on race day. But, I was gripped in the middle of the worlds worst wetsuit disaster. My beloved ZEROD VANGARD was dying on its arse. It was splitting everywhere and I was beside myself with grief - they were out of production so I could not even get another one!!!! I settled on the Xterra Vector Pro as a replacement, why? Because it has 5mm neoprene from neck to toe on the front, so is very floaty. The bad news was it took 6 weeks to arrive from when I ordered it so I only had one chance to test it. As luck would have it I did a test swim at Prahran pool two days before we left and have to say it was love at first swim. I ripped up a 500m in 6:35, awesome.
The swim on race day went like this. I stood right at the front of the start, very front row for a beach start, about 20m to the water. Goggles on, finger on the start button, cannon goes off, I am racing for Kona. The ocean swim in SA is notoriously rough and slow but we had a pretty good day for it with calm conditions and 350m to the first turn buoy so I went for it. Once the excitement of running down the beach was over I started to pile on through, over and around all those how had creeped in front of me in the sandy 20m sprint. I spotted what I assumed to be the lead bunch (You know the real swimmers) forming to my right so I headed over to them to get on some feet. Now I am crap at doing that, but I am told on good authority it will make me faster so I did it and we FLEW out to the first turn, there was about 20 of us in the lead group so nice gentlemanly turn around the buoy, after you sir, no after you. Then it was a straight 1.6k to the next turn....that is a long long one way swim. I continued to sit in the bunch, cruising along, putting up with my frustration of not swimming hard because this was supposed to be faster than I could manage on my own. We cruised the 1.6 very nicely. As soon as we started the swim back I thought I would test the pace a bit, so I pulled out of the group to the side. In the open space I was better able to focus on my stroke and guess what, I started overtaking the group - bollocks. I pulled up right to the front and some of the guys hooked onto me as I did. So that was it, no more feet for me, it was hammer time! The next km or so went really fast it was awesome. We arrive at the beach and I am first to stand up, I see a smaller group had already made it out, about 4 guys I think. I had not even seen them. But then, the dirty cheating bastards who had been swimming with me RAN up the beach and got over the timing mat before me...Running in the swim! That's just not cricket!! Into transition, latte, biscuit and out again.
Putting the Hammer down, Bike Style
My plan for the race was go hard, then hold on. I may have gone a tincy wincy bit over the top with that. A quick rule of thumb for you. If you get out the water with the lead swimmer, you are to assume they are good athletes, if you then drop them ALL in the first 3.5km of the bike you may want to check your pacing. So after 5 IM finishes how could I be getting it so, so wrong. Because I was there to race, to roll the dice, to take the risk so that is what I did. I also seemed to have completely lost the ability to "feel" my effort level. I could not tell what was going on I felt incredibly strong in the legs, it was just amazing. The hammer went down and stayed down, in fact I picked up another hammer from an aid station and put that down too. I did not watch my heart rate I just raced and it was glorious. Later analysis shows I was at 88% heart rate for the first 2 hours. That as higher than at shep in my last 70.3 race.
At the end of the first lap I was 3rd in my age group, two guys had pasted my towards the end of the hills, one a small climber and one a big German monster TT'er.
At the start of the second lap, there was a terrible accident involving me, my legs and a large wall which appeared from no where (Metaphorically, I did not hit a real wall, I am ok) I exploded to an extent not seen since the nuclear tests in the pacific (You know the ones that created Gozzilla but no one likes to talk about). Well, what did I expect really. I had not expected anything, I had taken a gamble that on the day I would hold up to this but sadly it was not to be the case. The next 45km, which was thought the hills was a story of trying to get water from a stone, flogging a dead horse, making a silk purse from a sows ear. I was GONE, in a big way but pushed on none the less. By this time the wind had got up and the 45km home was going to be straight into it all the way. Normally that would be good for me, I AM the king of head wind you know!! But not today, it was a slow sad grind back to Port Elizabeth. Sitting up on the hoods, to exhausted to stay aero. I was now facing a choice I never thought I would be facing. Do I pull out of an Ironman after the bike. Do I do what I never thought I would do. Do I open myself up to ridicule, walk the walk of shame amongst my friends. The bizarre thing was I was so far gone physically I had gone past the point of self pity and "poor me" thoughts that come into your mind in situations like that. Even stranger my mind was uncluttered, I was not having trouble concentrating due to fatigue. I had complete clarity of thought. About 20km from town I pulled off at an aid station to use the toilet, you know things have gone wrong when you do that (Numbers 1's only!!). It turns out it was a good thing I did, what came out looked a great deal like this
This is caused by Myoglobinuria, you get it when you toast your muscles. It is caused by Muscle breakdown and a process called rhabdomyolysis. The thing that can kill crossfit people if they go too far. Sorry, a bit melodramatic of me, I was in no danger of anything like that but it was a sign of what I had just done.
Just One lap
I arrive at T2 and hand my bike to the great volunteer. I just stand there and everyone is cheering from the crowd but my brains order are being ignored by my legs. They will not actually move. No cramping, no real discomfort just a total lack of compliance. I bend over and put my hands on my knees, tip my head up, still areohelmetted up and smile, then laugh. Still just standing there. A couple of deep breaths and I lean forward to give myself some encouragement to put a leg out to stop myself falling over. It works! I am walking, I get my run bag and sit down in transition on a nice plastic chair. The volunteers rush to help me, "slow down there" I say, "No rush". I had decided I would do one lap of the run, just to see what happened but I was going to enjoy it and smile and laugh with the crowd. I carefully explained to the guy helping me how my T2 plan worked. You see I have my shoes in the bag, everything else is in a smaller bag that I can grab and take with me as I go on the run. I then unpack that bag (Hat, gels, Sunglasses) while I am running so as to save time in transition. Given I am explaining that while I am sitting down he gets today is not my day and says "great plan, next time maybe".
So I walk out onto the run, legs still on strike but at least move forward. At this point in 2012 a miracle happened, I thought I had cooked myself on the bike that year due to the conditions, but I still managed to crack out 30km at 5:15 pace. I hope for miracle again so tried to run - it almost worked. I lumbered along 4min run 1 min walk but it was 6 min pace. then the 1 min became 2 mins. The numb stumps I called legs had exited stage left. So this is how my lap went. 2km - Danced with the Zulu drummers, 6km joined a Mexican wave, had some beer (not much), 8km got passed by the guy who racked his Shiv next to mine, discussed how great they were, 10km used two sponges as false boobs for a photograph. 14km end of the lap saw Joey, she was in a bad way. I hugged her, she cried, I dragged her to the referee and asked him to take her to medical, she was done, I was done. We were going to walk in together. But Jo wanted me to keep going, to get over the line. So once she was headed off, I continued on. 1km later I stopped. I was down to a shuffle, no feeling at all in my legs, just numbness. But in the ironman world it is all about the finish line, you must do everything you can to get over it, right!? I could keep going, get over the line. Then a sudden attack of reality gripped me. What if Ironman is not some primeval right of passage, what if it is in fact just a part of your life you enjoy because it brings you joy and a sense of achievement. There was no joy to be had now, I had done my lap and loved it. So I stopped walk off the course and made the trip back to the start line. You had to walk down half the finish chute to get to the withdrawal tent, which sort of sucked. A guy in the crowd said "Hey you're winning" I said "No, but I tried to".
