Ironman France 2011

Ok, this is going to be a bit rambling to start with but stay with me.

A year or so ago I crossed the line of Ironman South Africa in 16 hours and 18 minutes, broken shoulder and all, I had finished it, no great hero speech, my bloodly mindedness and lack of regard for medical opinion had got me through, far and away the stupidest thing I have ever done on reflection – could have killed myself given the cocktail of drugs in me and my lack of training (Part melodrama part truth)  But finishing an Ironman was all I was capable of so the time was not relevant the finish was everything, that is all I would ever do, finish.

Before that I had completed Ironman Australia in 13hrs 8 minutes, I had dragged myself over the line after losing feeling in my legs due to my newly found disc prolapsed at the base of my back, I had finished but that was all, I would sign up again to finish, but that was all.

That was my relationship with Ironman, I am in it for the lifestyle, I sometimes crack out a good short distance race but on the big day I am there to finish and no more.  I am not made for the sport, too big, too many long term injuries, can’t really run well, why don’t they do an AQUABIKE – 3.8km swim – 180km ride -3.8km swim I would be awesome at that!  No..... finishing is all I am up for.

Or so I thought until 17kms from the end of the marathon in France.

Rather than ending with this I will start out with it, a huge thank you to my beautiful and Hawaii bound Wife Jo, with whom I am very lucky enough to share my fucking great life.   To all my MTC and fluid movements friends, I shall not refer to you as a “crew” as is often done, you are not a faceless crowd but a wonderful bunch of individuals who make ever day better for me.  Finally to Sean Foster my great coach who is ever present to help me progress and make me think things may be possible, all this is your fault now!  Benny, you get a special mention latter.

So, Ironman France, there is a mountain in the bike course you know, Macca says he will never race there, it is ranked with Hawaii and Lanzarote as the hardest ironman in the world, the swim start is on mass with the largest field of any ironman (2700) from a beach with pebbles so sharp they will cut your feet as soon as you look at them, the run has no shade and it is always hot, really hot.  So the race plan goes like this, get the shit beaten out of you in the swim, probably drown at least twice, climb a mountain on your bike that is so big you pass Olympus half way up and then run in the searing heat while watching your shoes actually melt beneath you.  Yep that was the plan

Yes, that is how it could have been, but not in my head, I never thought a race could be played out so much in your head as this one was for me. 

The Swim

When I was at school I was ace at Maths and Physics, so good in fact that I often would not turn up to lessons, miss homework and really piss my teachers off, especially when I was always clearly ahead of the class at exam time, they hated it.  To my swim coach Ben, I am sorry, I do not treat your sessions with the respect they/you deserve, you put such a great deal of effort into planning them and you deliver them as only you can and I hold you in very high regard as a coach, but, sometimes I just want to get out after an hour, or even 45 mins, that is just how it is.  You have helped achieve a real milestone in ironman of a sub one hour swim and I am indebted to you for that and I promise to do better at staying in the water, well actually I don’t promise that but still think you are great.  But back to the race.  My prep for the swim was a bit broken up, a few back issues slowed me down but I had a great run of about 8 weeks leading to race day.  You see this is the problem, when I lean up a bit I sink, as in I can stand on the bottom of the pool and walk, without my fat I am dense, so I have a huge mental battle in every race lead up where I actually slow down in the pool because I start to sit lower in the water, it takes me weeks to regain these “losses”, but all the while I am in fact getting better in the open water due to the magic of my wetsuit (or “whale skin” as Paul Speed refers to it, thanks mate).  It plays with my brain, thankfully my almost Vulcan like logic gets me through this period, I know I am improving, it is only the clock that does not know.  Soon enough I adapt and my times in the pool come back to where they were and actually improve.  PB’s all over the place very very happy, I even complete one or two full sessions, we have to call Medical to help Ben recover from the shock.  Funny story for you, on my trip to the UK before the race I do some sessions in my old local pool, those of you who have heard about my life time 100m PB of 1:13, when I was 13 years of age, this is the pool where I set it.  Anyway, I decide to give it a crack, and WOW 1:11, I am amazed, staggered, I tell Jo all about it, she is thrilled for me.  I take Jo to the pool a few days latter when she comes to join me in Newcastle, she points out all the measures in the pool are in Feet and inches – The Pool is 25 YARDS, so 22.5m.... oops.

I also acquire a new wetsuit after putting my arm THROUGH the sleeve of my old one a week before the race, and you wait till you see it, it is HOT!

So race morning on the beach, have said goodbye to Joey who is standing beside me, one minute till the start.  I am faced with two choices, the swim start is going to be madness – fact, so deal with it- but am I going to be the one getting nailed or am I going to do the nailing, the good news is that I am in the fortunate position of being able to make that choice, in most races I do not like to press the advantage my size gives me at a swim start I see it as unfair and just not nice, but the risk is too great today, there are too many people, the choice is made, I shall be doing the nailing.  The gun goes and we are off, I immediately get into a good swim rhythm, extend the arm forward, bring your fingers down for the catch, hook it over the person in front of you and pull them back underneath you.  I maintained this perfect technique for a good two hundred metres, they all signed the waiver as well, so I say sorry to everyone in my mind and get on with swimming.  I have to say I am flying along in mostly open water, my sighting is good and I feel great, the start has cost me time with all the mess but that could not be avoided.  The swim is in two bits with a beach run in the middle, 2.4km, then 1.4km – why not half and half, who knows they are French after all!  Anyway, get to the beach, time is 38:40, I knew I needed to be under 38 minutes to make an hour for the swim so just get on with it, have to adjust me timing chip as it has come loose, which costs me 10 seconds or so.  Back into the water and full steam ahead to sub one hour, I am thinking if the start was slow then I can go faster on this leg to pull back the 40 seconds I am behind, but those thoughts are soon gone as I notice the guy next to me, he is swimming in a very strange way and I cannot work out why, I slow a bit to get him more along side me so I can have a look (yes I know, FOCUS!!!!) My brain just about does a back flip in my head, here I am in the swim form of my life, in my new shiny wetsuit  and the is a guy swimming with me who only has the use of one arm, his left arm is hanging at his side, it looks very thin so I guess he has some kind of paralysis.  Anyway, he is swimming like a dolphin, his whole body is moving like a wave, un-fucking-believable, I think he catches sight of me looking at him and SPEEDS UP!  We swim together for the rest of the time, I am in awe, no other way to describe it.  We both exit the water together, I grab hold of him as he staggers on the pebbles, guess he can’t balance as well as he swims,  I slow up to let him cross the timing mat ahead of me, no way I am going to even pretend I am a better swimmer then him  I say to him “Mate. That was fucking awesome man” he looks at me and in a heavy Japanese ascent says “Fank you very much” and proceed to run off.  I have almost forgotten about the time, I have just crossed the mat so I press lap on my watch without even looking at it – I glance down, 59:39, I am sooo great, yes I am, I have a smile that could snap my head in half.

T1

This will be the longest part of my race report, or so some of you would have me think.  No, I did not have a cup of tea or a pint in transition, it was just a relaxed affair taking in all the sights and sounds of ironman day, yes it was nearly 10 minutes but hey, that is ok (see end of report)

The Bike

Well, here we go, on to a bike course that in terms of suitability for me as an athlete can only be described as an epic fail. As we all know, I can go fast on the velodrome, but this is not a velodrome, it is a full on mountain, with giants and monsters and all things scary.  But with that knowledge Coach Sean had prepared me and jo as best he could, we did climbing, lots of it, real ball/Brain buster sessions up Mount Donna, followed a recovery periods with no climbing to let us adapt.  I had no clue how this was going to play out.  I had done all I can, I had a mighty steed with 30 gears that was the right size for me, I had enough food to camp out for a fortnight, enough water to grow an entire vineyard and a newly acquired nickname – could the Thighs of Justice triumph over this fire breathing, man eating, ego shrinking, cluster fuck of a bike course?  We will find out! 

The basic breakdown of the course is like this, 20km flat, 50km up (really, really up!) 50km of wobbling up and down a bit with another significant up to finish with of about 5 km then 60km of TT heaven on sweeping downhills with massive drop offs into huge valleys. 

20km Flat – Tick, not much to say, loved it flew along feeling great.

50km of up – I am scared shitless of this bit, I have no idea how it is going to play out, I have worked out on a spreadsheet how much more energy I need to expend on this climb than your average sized althete, should not have done that, did not help!  The first 500 metre are at about 12% gradiant, we had been toild about this, the guy beside me snaps his Chain!!  But I am prepared, into bottom gear, (30 on the front – 28 on the back, love the triple chainring) and up I go, and I do it well!  Who would have thought.  From that point on I stick with my race plan, 82% of max heart rate for the climb, that is what I have rehearsed, that is what I seem to be able to maintain so I lock it in and climb.  There are people everywhere, like a mini TDF stage, cheering, shouting.  The scenery is fantastic, the road good, there are no dragons trying to kill me, the road does not even seem that steep and the minutes and then the Kilometres start to fly past  I am loving it, me, loving a climb.  Now comes the bad news, some other people were not doing so well.  Lesson 1.  Research your bike course, do not come to France with a TT bike that has an oversized chain ring and a 21-11 cassette on the back, then don your areohelmet and expect anything more than pain and disappointment.  It was time trial hell, people were running out of gears and grinding to a halt, you could almost hear the knee ligaments pleading for mercy, it was not pretty and I felt sorry for them.  You do not expect to see people walk through aid stations on the bike course but it started to happen, a sorry sight indeed.  With a few kms to go before the top I hear the sweet tones of my lovely wife from behind me, then beside me, then ahead of me – she is flying up that mountain and has had a great swim, a great many blokes got their first “chicking” that day and I could see people try to speed up as she went past them only to slow down again 10 metres later as they realised they were already fried!  The final 3km before the top of the climb was a graveyard of ill prepared athletes, cramping burnt out competitors looking for salvation that was not coming.  For me however the birds were singing and the sun was shining, it was not easy, I had to push but that was ok,I was staggered at what I had just done. 

70kms in and 3hrs gone – wow that will play games with you mental maths!

I can sum up the next 110kms in a few simple words – “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY”  downhill TT time – yeah baby!  Lesson 2.  Do not go to france and not learn how to descend.  As Ben said before I left, what goes up must come down and come down it did, vapour trails off my ears and everything.  One drawback – I seem to get something called “Hotfeet”  Bascially a very painful minor inflammation in your feet when putting a lot of pressure though your pedals, like when climbing – it hurts like a bastard (imagine your foot in a vice while being set on fire) and the only way to relieve it is to get off, take your shoes off and massage the foot.  I had to stop three times on the descent to deal with the aftermath of the climb and actauly did the last 10km with my feet out of my shoes but that was a minor issue given the totally EPIC ride I had just had.  Finish time was 6:13 again, all smiles into T2

T2

Blah blah, took ages, had cup of tea, yes I know!!

The run

Well, well, here we are.  Staring at the run exit, I don’t like running – did I ever mention that?  Best way to sum up my run – 15km of hope, 10km of hell then 17kms of redemption.

I am not a good runner, no don’t argue, I am just not.  But that is ok, it is a problem to be addressed, and addressed it I have.  I now run/walk, 4mins on 1min off for anything that is over an hour continuous running, I do this to keep my back from causing me issues and it works great.  It has worked in training and in races and I love it as a plan, only problem is in a half IM everyone shouts at you on the first lap – “don’t walk, come on you can do it”, yes thanks for your concern but this is my plan so kindly piss off! So off I go and holy shit my legs feel strong – I cruise though the first 10km, I think I do anyway at well under 6 minute pace (ish).  Then it all starts to unwind.  I think I overdid my food intake on the decent, I am feeling bloated and starting to cramp in my stomach, which I can handle but then the cramps start to creep around to my back and I start to feel weakness in my legs as my back become sore, bollocks.  Around this time i catch up to Georgie, he is not having a good day but puts all that aside to help me and boost me, thanks mate you were so awesome.  I change my run/walk to 3 minutes on 2 minutes off to try and calm things down but by the 15km mark the shit has hit the fan, I am walking more than I run, I cannot get myself back on track, my belly hurts.  I pretty much walk the next 3kms and have a good chat with myself – don’t just look at the problems solve them.  Problem – I am so bloated my stomach and back are cramping, solution?  Stop at drain and put fingers down throat, throw up all over the place in front of Georgie.  Problem solved?  Another km or two of walking and my stomach settles down, I can get half a gel down me ok.  Go through halfway, cannot even remember the time but am trying to restart my run/walk but my body will not cooperate.  I get to the aid station at about 25kms and decide this will just not do, I grab four cups of water and head to a bench for a sit down and to regroup.  I sit there for exactly 15 mins.  Gathering myself, activating my core muscles to get the pressure out of my back, drinking water, being asked if I was ok, and you know what, after my sit down I was ok.  So back onto the course, repeat after me “THERE IS NO VARYATION FROM THE PLAN”  4 Mins run 1 min walk, that is it, nothing else, no variation.  And so it was for the last 17kms, no variation, blisters yes, pain yes, doubt yes but no variation from the plan NO!

While all this was going on some rather significant other things happened, Georgie continued to support and help me, Allie ran almost the entire marathon, Jo qualified for Hawaii!!!!!!!! And my mother and brother got to see for the first time what this is all about, I am so grateful to them for coming to watch.

Not only that but I had a huge moment of clarity.  I was racing this race.  No really I was, I was not just going to finish but I was going to finish in a PB, but for a hiccup on the run I had just actually raced a race, not turned up to finish but come in with a plan, stuck to hit, after preparing for the race as a race – I was not there to just finish, like I thought I was.  It hit me full in the face, sure I am not going to win but I was racing.  Now things get really freaky.  When I was in South Africa I met Heinrich, a really cool guy, about the same size as me – he went Sub 11 hours, I was amazed he could do it, I thought it was impossible for me to ever do that, sub 12 maybe on a good day but never sub 11.  In the final miles of France I came to the inescapable conclusion that I could do it, I can race sub 11.  Check out the maths – 12:31 in France, I have at least 50 mins to gain on the bike with a TT based not a climb based course, surely I can go 5:20-5:25?  I can do a half in well under 2:25 so that must be doable?  If I can get to grips with my run, get my bike nutrition sorted then I have 40 mins to gain on the run – 6min pace I KNOW I can do that.  Assuming the same swim, that gets me to 11:01, but now the best bit – I have a full 10 mins to take off the transitions!  There you go, sub 11.  The maths is perfect, and we know I am good at maths so I cannot escape the conclusion I can do it.

I am returning to South Africa Next year, Sub 11 it is, I am not turning up to just finish.

Love to you all.