Monday, 28 October 2013
Friday, 25 October 2013
Kona Here We Come: Blog 8: So what happened?
Kona Here We Come: Blog 8: So what happened?: "You ARE An Eye-Ron Man" The Big Day So what happened? Well Julie had a fantastic day. She had the good fortune of sp...
Blog 8: So what happened?
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| In the words of Mike Reilly "You ARE An I-Ron Man" |
Ironman World Championship
October 12, 2013
So what happened?
Well Julie had a fantastic day. She had the good fortune of spectating with the Blatchfords, on what turned out to be such an amazing day for them. Julie walked down to the
swim start with Ann. Mike, meanwhile, conscious of the fact that being an Iron Spectator is a demanding endurance event in its own right, was conserving his efforts. He reckons he can pick out Liz from more than two thousand swimmers, and from a distance of two nautical
miles, so watched the swim from the comfort of their accommodation, quite close to the turnaround buoys. Having a daughter that swims at the front of the pack does make her somewhat easier to spot than most.
Spending time with the Blatchfords, Julie was able to follow what was going on at the front of the race. They had a well-founded optimism that Liz was a genuine contender, as she went on to prove with a stunning performance.
Spending time with the Blatchfords, Julie was able to follow what was going on at the front of the race. They had a well-founded optimism that Liz was a genuine contender, as she went on to prove with a stunning performance.
Unfortunately for Julie, and me, she had a much longer wait at the finish than Mike and Ann. More than 3 hours longer!
Yet it all started so well. The three key
early morning ingredients all ticked off: porridge, beetroot juice, and a
rewarding trip to the bathroom. As an added bonus, we were not sharing a
house, or hotel, with fellow triathletes, who typically emit excessive nervous energy, and can't help but insist on waking everyone up
around them as they consume their 3 a.m. breakfasts. So I even managed a couple
of hours extra sleep.
The race did not start until 7, so the plan was to
get there just before 6, on the shuttle. Except the shuttle service did not run
as scheduled, and the bus that did come drove past without stopping. A 3km
run/walk, in thongs, to the start area is not found in any "Performance Tips for Race Day" literature. It wasn't too bad though. There were lots of others
making their way down Ali'i Drive to the start, and it was a very nice
atmosphere.
A couple of weeks earlier I had watched the
DVD from the previous year's race, and, in the comfort of my own home felt
exceptionally nervous, particularly as they showed all the athletes getting
ready in the atmospheric, pre-dawn light.
On the day though, no butterflies, and I was actually looking
forward to the challenge of the notorious, legendary Kona conditions. It was helpful having absolutely zero aspirations regarding a finishing time, or age-group position. This was about enjoying the whole experience. Despite arriving in Kona with a very serious case of man flu, which had
lingered somewhat and settled on my chest, I honestly believed I was fit, healthy,
and ready – not for a particularly impressive time, but a solid respectable day.
Entering the ocean alongside me was Nera (Jareb), who was looking relaxed and ready to race.
We wished each other well, and went our separate ways – a bit of natural
selection - as she needed to be at the pointy end of the field. Nera went
on to have a great race, despite a few issues, in a touch over 10 hours finishing with a classy 3'21 marathon.
The swim here is stunning. Crystal-clear water,
reef, and amazing variety of vivid marine life below us. What a place to
find myself: the location, the anticipation, the tension, the cannon, the
carnage!
The swim starts in particular can be dangerous. Previously, competitors
have had their races seriously affected, or even curtailed, as flailing arms, and feet cause damage on impact. This was a concern.
After my atrocious swim in Switzerland (1'47"!!!) I have
probably worked harder on this leg than at any other time, and have managed to
get lap times down to around 50 seconds. Hence, I thought it was a reasonable
expectation to come in around 1'15". Wrong again.
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| How good is that? Why the rush? |
As I got back to the beach my watch
indicated a disappointing, 1'23. Despite swimming reasonably straight, the Garmin had me down for a 4.3km swim.
Those extra few minutes in the
water were to have a disproportionately negative effect on the bike leg later in the day, as
many of the quicker athletes managed to miss the worst of the strengthening head wind on
the Queen K, back into town (confirmed by Power Meter and TrainingPeaks data).
Running through T1 was when my body first announced
that it wasn’t entirely happy about doing an Ironman today. My hamstrings and
calves were too tight. It felt like I had to walk/stride, rather than run to
prevent pulling a calf. And my chest felt as tight as my calves, as I had a
couple of coughing attacks.
Still, in my head I was good to go, as having
a few issues is normal. I knew what I had to do, and was ready to do it. I felt relaxed and, for now, it felt easy. But, even relaxed, the tension was building through my lower back. Of all my bikes the TT bike is usually the most sympathetic to my back, though the aggressive aero position can aggravate a neck problem. Even the comfy leather seats of the Volvo or Saab can
trigger lower back spasms at times. On any bike, even my motorbike, I can be compromised to
some degree, but not usually so early in proceedings. This was not a good sign.
Inevitably, I picked up a few injuries from my speedway riding days. It was an accident at Belle Vue speedway, back in 1983, that was, once again, coming back to haunt me. Since then there have been occasions when I
do have difficulty getting dressed in a morning. Usually though, it is generally manageable by being pro-active - thanks to Freddie Cappon (Chiro), Matt Tribble (Next Move Physio), and Eve O'Hare (massage), but sometimes, without warning, or for any obvious reason, it flares up. Being on a different part of the planet than the aforementioned three obviously doesn't help.
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| Nice fast bike - shame about the rider. Through the lava fields on the Queen K |
Watching the pros come down from Hawi was
interesting. They looked quick and appropriately spaced out. Luke McKenzie was one of the more noticeable in his distinctive kit. He looked fantastic on the bike. We had seen him a few times out on the Queen K during the previous week or so, training, absolutely flying, millimetres behind a motor-bike, being paced, at average speeds up to 60kph. He was rewarded with a podium finish today.
And now for the grumpy old man bit, the most disillusioning discovery on Kona . . .
A few kms after the pros, the elite age-groupers started coming through. Now, you can accuse me of being bitter, or perhaps it was a serious case of peleton envy, but . . . I appreciate that due to the benign conditions, and such high numbers of athletes at a relatively similar level all starting the bike leg around the same time, it is almost impossible to avoid being in that draft zone, and many are trying to do the right thing – BUT – far too many were in the draft zone, closer to 7 inches than 7 metres. I have never seen as many riders protected from the elements, in the cocoon of a peleton, in a (supposedly) none-drafting triathlon before. Any cost benefit analyses would surely evaluate that all that saved energy would far outweigh the impact of a 4-minute sin bin penalty. What kind of deterrent is that? Especially when looking back after the race, and Strava confirmed that many who had much better bike splits than me, had averaged watts less than me.
And now for the grumpy old man bit, the most disillusioning discovery on Kona . . .
A few kms after the pros, the elite age-groupers started coming through. Now, you can accuse me of being bitter, or perhaps it was a serious case of peleton envy, but . . . I appreciate that due to the benign conditions, and such high numbers of athletes at a relatively similar level all starting the bike leg around the same time, it is almost impossible to avoid being in that draft zone, and many are trying to do the right thing – BUT – far too many were in the draft zone, closer to 7 inches than 7 metres. I have never seen as many riders protected from the elements, in the cocoon of a peleton, in a (supposedly) none-drafting triathlon before. Any cost benefit analyses would surely evaluate that all that saved energy would far outweigh the impact of a 4-minute sin bin penalty. What kind of deterrent is that? Especially when looking back after the race, and Strava confirmed that many who had much better bike splits than me, had averaged watts less than me.
A week or so previously, following a flying Liz Blatchford and her partner Glen, we experienced the full force of the Hawi winds. Kona regulars Dave and Michelle Boyes were also out there, and later described it as a one of the toughest days they had experienced, so it was a relief to have a less challenging day now. The problem was, that
despite pushing watts well below threshold, this ride was degenerating into one of the
most difficult and most painful I have ever done. The tightening in my back was getting
worse, and even maintaining this less than modest effort was proving too much.
In fact the pain was getting so bad that I made a silly decision. Probably the worst decision I have made in a race. At the Hawi turnaround I decided to stop and utilise the tools they had available
at the aid stations to lower my seat. I was hoping that if I varied my position, the spasms in my back might become more manageable. The plan was to
drop just less than one centimetre. Unfortunately, just as I had loosened the bolts I had a bit of a coughing fit
and lost the mark on the seat post. It turned out that I ended up
dropping it around 3cm (but did not know this until I came to pack my bike
in its box to come home). The result. Well my back was no better, but now my
knees were also complaining. I wasn't stopping again though - another mistake.
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| Not much fun now! Why did I not stop and move that seat back up? |
Despite my difficulties, I was encouraged by the fact that I have struggled many times before with similar issues on the bike, sometimes struggling to bend and reach my feet to change shoes in T2, yet have usually loosened up after a km or so on the run to finish strongly. I was still foolishly optimistic that a 4-hour marathon might be possible.
Though feeling far from my best it was a nice, but very slow, run out of T2 into town. So many
people, such a great atmosphere. The conditions were humid and warm, but for Kona, actually quite good,
and not really a concern at all.
(After having so many people over the past couple of weeks telling me how "easy" Kona was this year, I feel the need to put this into context. An "easy" Kona still had an average temperature of 32.9C, with a maximum of 36C, combined with oppressive humidity; and though the cross winds were largely absent there were strong headwinds later in the day. It took nearly 2 hours, pushing almost 200 watts, to do the last 45km).
(After having so many people over the past couple of weeks telling me how "easy" Kona was this year, I feel the need to put this into context. An "easy" Kona still had an average temperature of 32.9C, with a maximum of 36C, combined with oppressive humidity; and though the cross winds were largely absent there were strong headwinds later in the day. It took nearly 2 hours, pushing almost 200 watts, to do the last 45km).
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| Doing it tough on Ali'i Drive |
I could not help but recall the words of Matt Burton, commentating at last year's Mandurah Half IM: "Illingworth runs like a man who has just been shot in the back."
It was an amusing analogy then (though not for Matt Illingworth), but not now. This summed up how I was feeling perfectly.
For years I found that all I had to do was just keep running, and I would do a sub-4 hour marathon. This is no longer true. However, I still believed all I had to do was run all the way and I would finish the run under 4 and a half, and this would bring me home in just under 12 hours. That’ll do.
Not today! I couldn't even do that. Yes, I was
still running, but I am not sure how much I was challenging the definition of
the word run. Shuffle would perhaps be a more accurate description.
Apart from the occasional aid
station, and toilet stops/issues, I have not previously walked in Ironman
races, and feel this is quite an achievement. The infamous Natural Energy Lab would test this
resolve.
It takes forever to get there, and then you know you have got to run all that way back the last 14 kms or so. By now I was in agony with back spasms. Thankfully, it was here I met my Angel of Mercy, Nathalie Laurendau. She had been well in front of me all day. A good swimmer, elite cyclist and strong runner – normally. But Nat has had a plantar fasciitis injury for the past few weeks and unable to run. She managed almost half the run until, inevitably, it flared again. She was walking. For someone of her ability and competitive nature this was emotional, and challenging, but she was determined to get to the end. When I eventually caught and overtook Nat I had not recognised her and she shouted to me. We had a quick chat, got the violins out, and shared sob stories.
The Ironman was not the only reason Nat was in Kona. As a Chiropractor, she had also been to a Professional Development Conference on soft tissue injuries, with a focus on trigger release techniques. Luckily for me, Nat suggested she could apply her new skills to my deteriorating situation. This was an amazing gesture, but very painful. Most people in the extended vicinity realised this from the noises I was making.
Slowly things eased. Nat got me to bend forward from the waist. I was genuinely concerned I would not be able to straighten up again. As I leaned forward, with Nat standing behind me, she worked on the trigger points, in my lower back, gluteus and hips. This prompted more involuntary grunts and groans.
If there was a gender reversal in our respective positions, we could very well have been arrested. As it was we were attracting inquisitive stares, and even witty comments from fellow athletes about inappropriate social activity.
The result was quite remarkable as eventually, the intolerable pain was transferred into ecstatic relief. What involuntary noises was I supposed to make? Was I still sore
and tight? Of course I was. But what had been unbearable and
excruciating, was now manageable.
Importantly, I could now run without feeling that a calf or hamstring or disc was going to explode at any second. I will be forever grateful to Natalie for those moments, her skills, and time, which enabled me to savour and enjoy the end of this iconic race, and special place.
For the last few miles I was running with a glowing ring.
Thankfully, unlike Ironman France, back in June, this was not due to an upset stomach and excessive use of harsh toilet paper.
On this occasion the glowing ring was issued when it started to get dark, to keep us visible, and safe, on the suddenly pitch-black Queen K, heading back towards town.
Running towards the finish, the atmosphere and crowd were amazing. I just wish, that after emerging from the dark, my eyes had adjusted to the very bright lights, and I had been able to spot Julie in the crowd, to share this magical, emotional experience with her, as I ran into the finishing chute.
I also felt guilty at abandoning Natalie at the Natural Energy Lab. It was a special moment to meet Nat just after she finished, express my gratitude for what she had done, and share in our achievement of getting to one of the most iconic finish lines in global sport, after we both endured such adversity to get there.
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| Got there - eventually |
Importantly, I could now run without feeling that a calf or hamstring or disc was going to explode at any second. I will be forever grateful to Natalie for those moments, her skills, and time, which enabled me to savour and enjoy the end of this iconic race, and special place.
For the last few miles I was running with a glowing ring.
Thankfully, unlike Ironman France, back in June, this was not due to an upset stomach and excessive use of harsh toilet paper.
On this occasion the glowing ring was issued when it started to get dark, to keep us visible, and safe, on the suddenly pitch-black Queen K, heading back towards town.
Running towards the finish, the atmosphere and crowd were amazing. I just wish, that after emerging from the dark, my eyes had adjusted to the very bright lights, and I had been able to spot Julie in the crowd, to share this magical, emotional experience with her, as I ran into the finishing chute.
I also felt guilty at abandoning Natalie at the Natural Energy Lab. It was a special moment to meet Nat just after she finished, express my gratitude for what she had done, and share in our achievement of getting to one of the most iconic finish lines in global sport, after we both endured such adversity to get there.
It was a hard day, much harder than it should have been given the conditions for most of the day. It was frustrating having to take so long (12'27"), and do my worst ever marathon by far, which took almost 5 hours. But then, the time was never really supposed to be factor. I just wish I could have got round without as much pain and discomfort. Having said that, I suppose overcoming adversity is a key aspect of getting fulfilment from dong an Ironman.
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| Massive waterfalls and hidden valleys from a Big Island helicopter |
Upon returning back to the apartment we were then treated to another magical moment. We had a knock on the door from Mike and Ann Blatchford, with beers in hand, still up in the clouds, to share their joy of Liz's truly remarkable performance. A very
special memory indeed. If ever something was so richly deserved, this was it.
For a family that has contributed so much, for so long, to the remarkable success of the WA Triathlon community, this is fantastic. It has been uplifting to see their recent rewards: Ann with her World Championship Bronze in London; and now Liz, forcing her way onto the podium of THE most prestigious, one-day, iconic endurance event on the planet. Brilliant!
The next couple of days were not good for me. The elephant on my chest seemed to be joined by its mother. And despite the perfect tropical temperature on Hawaii, I was either freezing, or roasting. This was supposed to be when we got to relax, unwind and celebrate, but Julie had to leave me in the room whilst she explored our magnificent new surroundings close to Waikiki Beach. Still, I did get a couple of days well enough to appreciate this new slice of Hawaiian paradise.
For a family that has contributed so much, for so long, to the remarkable success of the WA Triathlon community, this is fantastic. It has been uplifting to see their recent rewards: Ann with her World Championship Bronze in London; and now Liz, forcing her way onto the podium of THE most prestigious, one-day, iconic endurance event on the planet. Brilliant!
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| Julie got fed up with me being sick so went to Five 0 HQ in search of Alex O'Loughlin |
So what's next? Prior to Kona I was already entered in the Cape to Cape 4-day Mountain Bike race. I was hoping to do this as recovery and just enjoy the SW. It is a fantastic event, spectacular location, with some of the world's best riders at the pointy end of the field, and some raw, not particularly fit novices at the other. Most of the tracks they use are not too challenging and really enjoyable, with every day being quite different in character. The race is as hard, or easy as you want to make it. The relatively short stages also leave plenty of time to enjoy what the region has to offer - last year over the 4-day stage race I put on 3kg. Definitely a highlight on the WA sporting calendar.
However, daughter Rebecca has booked her one-way flight to Canada this weekend, as she embarks on her six-month working stint at the Whistler Ski resort, so have decided to stay at home, not do any of the stages, and forfeit yet another significant entry fee. This probably works out for the best for my back, and health wise, as this bronchial thing is still around, so probably shouldn't be riding anyway.
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| Waikiki Beach |
At this stage, the plan is to start both races, but, if there are any issues in either, I hope to be mentally strong enough to pull the pin, and save it for another day.
It would be nice to do at least one race this year at a level somewhere close to what I feel I am capable, which I believe is a low 5-hour bike ride followed by sub-4 hour marathon.
I have failed to hit any of my targets this year. Might as well aim for another two.
And next year?
The focal point in the diary for 2014, in November, is to do the New York Marathon alongside Julie, for which we have already got confirmed entries. This has been Julie's long-time ambition, to coincide her marathon debut and 50th birthday. It will be my first pure marathon since 1982, when the orthopaedic surgeon, mending my broken leg (another speedway accident), informed me that I would not be doing the following year's London Marathon, for which I had just got an elusive entry, nor was it likely that I would be able to do any others in the future.
As for Ironman, won't be entering any next year. Would like to do a few halves though.
I have failed to hit any of my targets this year. Might as well aim for another two.
And next year?
The focal point in the diary for 2014, in November, is to do the New York Marathon alongside Julie, for which we have already got confirmed entries. This has been Julie's long-time ambition, to coincide her marathon debut and 50th birthday. It will be my first pure marathon since 1982, when the orthopaedic surgeon, mending my broken leg (another speedway accident), informed me that I would not be doing the following year's London Marathon, for which I had just got an elusive entry, nor was it likely that I would be able to do any others in the future.
As for Ironman, won't be entering any next year. Would like to do a few halves though.
Saturday, 12 October 2013
Blog 7 - Aloha
Ready to Race?
Saturday, September 28
Cannot believe how quick the past 8 weeks have gone. Not caught up at work, nor done the training I had hoped and needed. Regardless, it was the last weekend in Perth, and only 2 weeks until race day. With the last two big training weekends being lost due to various circumstances I needed a big one now. But, as they say, things come in threes, and after avoiding all the colds and bugs going around for a couple years now, I could feel I was coming down with something. So many people around had been quite ill, I suppose it was only a matter of time.
Anyway, it wasn't bad enough, yet, to miss the Saturday morning JCC ride, and those boys always keep everyone honest. I would just keep an eye on my pulse, and when they do the inevitable 400+ watt surge up Gibbs Hill towards the end of the ride I would just let them go, and TT back to the coffee shop. Strangely, I actually felt really good this morning, and did more than my share of strong turns at the front, which, as those who ride with me will confirm, is not my typical behaviour.
It felt good on the Colnago Time Tial bike. I do not ride it very often. The aggressive time-trial position tends to flare up a neck issue, which, on occasions stops all activities. I do not feel the need to ride it too often before triathlons either. On the occasion when I did ride my TT bike most before an Ironman, never have I felt more uncomfortable in a race, and it was by far and away my slowest. On the contrary, when I did my first Ironman race after a break of a few years I did not even have a time-trial bike so Wade Kelly kindly lent me his. I did one ride on it to set up the position - actually, I did not adjust anything other than the saddle height. Yet, the following weekend I had my best ever bike leg, and then the best ever running legs out of T2.
So the JCC ride was a good sign. The new raised up position of the tri-bar supports, thanks to Matt Dec, took some of the pressure off my neck. But when I got home things were not quite right. Very achy, fatigued, sore throat coming on. I just wanted to sleep, but still had all those jobs to do: lawns, pool, spa, etc.
Sunday morning was worse. The planned ride to Freo then around the river was never going to happen. This was a serious case of man flu. The thought of spending 22 of the next 48 hours travelling was more than daunting. Hopefully, it would not last long, but even if it didn't it was one more so-called big weekend where practically bugger all was done.
So I eventually left on Monday lunchtime, feeling much better, but still shit, and arrived in Kona, Monday lunchtime. Aloha. At least I could expect a friendly islander welcome.
No chance. The legitimised thugs, who call themselves American Homeland Security, decided they would wreck my several hundred dollar bike box by breaking the locks, rather than use any 10c key which would open 95% of the world's suitcases. Upon opening the case they then proceeded to vandalise the contents, as they do not give a shit how they repack it. This is a tale that countless Kona Ironmen have experienced. Their attitude is disgraceful, and as ambassador's for their country they are shameful, but perhaps it would have been better to keep that opinion to myself in my discussions with them after seeing my wilfully damaged luggage.
Fortunately, since then, my spirits have risen due to the truly magnificent location, legendary hospitality and improving health.
For the rest of the week I did a couple of runs along the iconic Ali'i Drive and linked up with my Perth training partners Russell Brooks, Natalie Laurendau, and the very impressive Nera Jareb.
Russell and I also got to ride up to Hawi, and experience the legendary winds. Sadly, just after turning onto the road to Hawi, Natalie punctured, and, to my amazement, Russell, who was not here to do the Ironman, ever chivalrous, was happy to continue the ride, whilst leaving poor Nat to hitch-hike her way back, from the middle of nowhere, to a bike shop.
Not long after abandoning Nat we linked up with Liz Blatchford and her partner Glen. Liz does seem to have flown under the radar somewhat, but has trained well, and has to be a serious contender. The very best of luck to her.
I was the next to puncture. There is a lot of crap on the shoulder where we have to ride, so this is a common occurrence. Dave Boyes, a neighbour in the apartments we are staying, predicted I would have a couple of punctures over the 10 days of riding here. He was right. Just hope I do not get my third tomorrow. Incidentally, Dave and Michelle Boyes were also out at Hawi that same day. It was a relief to hear them say that, they have done this many times - it is their seventh IM visit - and this was one of the tougher days. It was a bit weird really, we only did 95kms that day, it did not feel too bad at the time, yet felt like we had ridden much further and faster.
The next day was the Saturday before the race, and the official practice swim. There were several hundred participants and it was great to do the full swim, which was as amazing as everyone said it would be. Except it was a bit longer - it took me 1 hour 25 mins, and my Garmin clocked 4.35kms, though I did get a bit off course near the end.
The following day's Ali'i Drive 10k was also special, and Julie and I did this together. The humidity was a cause of concern though.
The week since then has been fantastic. The whole vibe around the place, nice rides, one even more amazing swim being surrounded by a massive pod of dolphins, and then the crazy IM traditional stuff such as the "Undie Run". Also we had the Australia Athletes Breakfast, in a particularly stunning setting, and then the Parade of Nations.
Getting to meet so many legends, such as Chris Boardman, Chrissie Wellington, Ryder Heysedjal, Pete Jacobs; riding with contenders such as Liz Blatchford, and Caroline Steffen, and getting to know West Australian age-group contender Nera Jareb have all been highlights.
Riding with Russell, Nat and Nera so often over this past week or so has been enjoyable, with Russell
frequently passing on his wisdom and cycling expertise.
Except of course, there was one very regrettable incident in the week, which resulted in some serious Facebook humiliation. Can't a guy sort out some serious agitation in the baggy Speedo department, without some Paparazi catching the moment. Thanks Russell. I should not complain too much though, because, amazingly, regardless of how bad this photo was, believe it or not, there was another that was much worse.
Today we got a visit from Mike and Ann Blatchford who are staying in the neighbouring complex. It was really nice to catch up with them both, and congratulate Ann on her tremendous achievement in getting a Bronze in the recent World Triathlon Championships in London.
Now it is the eve of the race, so hope this bloody triathlon tomorrow is not going to spoil everything. Not feeling particularly race fit, but my limbs seem to be working OK. The legacy of this man flu has settled on my lungs, but hopefully not too bad now, and pulse is where it should be, which is good.
My original aim of going under 11 hours is looking more than optimistic. I think I would be happy with 12. The reality is that this will probably be my only opportunity to do this race, so I don't want to spoil it chasing unrealistic goals, which, at the end of the day, don't really matter anyway - Dave Boyes won't be losing any sleep about a challenge from me in our age group, that is for sure.
Let's see how it goes, and hope I can spend most of the day smiling.
Thanks for everybody's well wishes and support.
Mahalo
Saturday, September 28
Cannot believe how quick the past 8 weeks have gone. Not caught up at work, nor done the training I had hoped and needed. Regardless, it was the last weekend in Perth, and only 2 weeks until race day. With the last two big training weekends being lost due to various circumstances I needed a big one now. But, as they say, things come in threes, and after avoiding all the colds and bugs going around for a couple years now, I could feel I was coming down with something. So many people around had been quite ill, I suppose it was only a matter of time.
Anyway, it wasn't bad enough, yet, to miss the Saturday morning JCC ride, and those boys always keep everyone honest. I would just keep an eye on my pulse, and when they do the inevitable 400+ watt surge up Gibbs Hill towards the end of the ride I would just let them go, and TT back to the coffee shop. Strangely, I actually felt really good this morning, and did more than my share of strong turns at the front, which, as those who ride with me will confirm, is not my typical behaviour.
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| Colnago Time Trial bike |
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| At the Australian Athletes' Breakfast |
So the JCC ride was a good sign. The new raised up position of the tri-bar supports, thanks to Matt Dec, took some of the pressure off my neck. But when I got home things were not quite right. Very achy, fatigued, sore throat coming on. I just wanted to sleep, but still had all those jobs to do: lawns, pool, spa, etc.
Sunday morning was worse. The planned ride to Freo then around the river was never going to happen. This was a serious case of man flu. The thought of spending 22 of the next 48 hours travelling was more than daunting. Hopefully, it would not last long, but even if it didn't it was one more so-called big weekend where practically bugger all was done.
So I eventually left on Monday lunchtime, feeling much better, but still shit, and arrived in Kona, Monday lunchtime. Aloha. At least I could expect a friendly islander welcome.
No chance. The legitimised thugs, who call themselves American Homeland Security, decided they would wreck my several hundred dollar bike box by breaking the locks, rather than use any 10c key which would open 95% of the world's suitcases. Upon opening the case they then proceeded to vandalise the contents, as they do not give a shit how they repack it. This is a tale that countless Kona Ironmen have experienced. Their attitude is disgraceful, and as ambassador's for their country they are shameful, but perhaps it would have been better to keep that opinion to myself in my discussions with them after seeing my wilfully damaged luggage.
Fortunately, since then, my spirits have risen due to the truly magnificent location, legendary hospitality and improving health.
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| Nera, Me, Russell and Nat |
Russell and I also got to ride up to Hawi, and experience the legendary winds. Sadly, just after turning onto the road to Hawi, Natalie punctured, and, to my amazement, Russell, who was not here to do the Ironman, ever chivalrous, was happy to continue the ride, whilst leaving poor Nat to hitch-hike her way back, from the middle of nowhere, to a bike shop.
Not long after abandoning Nat we linked up with Liz Blatchford and her partner Glen. Liz does seem to have flown under the radar somewhat, but has trained well, and has to be a serious contender. The very best of luck to her.
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| Team Exceed in the Undie Run |
The next day was the Saturday before the race, and the official practice swim. There were several hundred participants and it was great to do the full swim, which was as amazing as everyone said it would be. Except it was a bit longer - it took me 1 hour 25 mins, and my Garmin clocked 4.35kms, though I did get a bit off course near the end.
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| Julie and Chrissie Wellington |
The week since then has been fantastic. The whole vibe around the place, nice rides, one even more amazing swim being surrounded by a massive pod of dolphins, and then the crazy IM traditional stuff such as the "Undie Run". Also we had the Australia Athletes Breakfast, in a particularly stunning setting, and then the Parade of Nations.
Riding with Russell, Nat and Nera so often over this past week or so has been enjoyable, with Russell
frequently passing on his wisdom and cycling expertise.
Except of course, there was one very regrettable incident in the week, which resulted in some serious Facebook humiliation. Can't a guy sort out some serious agitation in the baggy Speedo department, without some Paparazi catching the moment. Thanks Russell. I should not complain too much though, because, amazingly, regardless of how bad this photo was, believe it or not, there was another that was much worse.
Today we got a visit from Mike and Ann Blatchford who are staying in the neighbouring complex. It was really nice to catch up with them both, and congratulate Ann on her tremendous achievement in getting a Bronze in the recent World Triathlon Championships in London.
Now it is the eve of the race, so hope this bloody triathlon tomorrow is not going to spoil everything. Not feeling particularly race fit, but my limbs seem to be working OK. The legacy of this man flu has settled on my lungs, but hopefully not too bad now, and pulse is where it should be, which is good.
My original aim of going under 11 hours is looking more than optimistic. I think I would be happy with 12. The reality is that this will probably be my only opportunity to do this race, so I don't want to spoil it chasing unrealistic goals, which, at the end of the day, don't really matter anyway - Dave Boyes won't be losing any sleep about a challenge from me in our age group, that is for sure.
Let's see how it goes, and hope I can spend most of the day smiling.
Thanks for everybody's well wishes and support.
Mahalo
Tuesday, 8 October 2013
Blog 6: Kona minus 10 - Countdown!
The Countdown Begins: 10 weeks to go.
Saturday, August 3, 2013
Ok, time to switch on and focus. 10 weeks to race day. I have had a handful of big days during the past few weeks in Europe, but the reality is that training has, at best, been modest, restricted by other priorities. I have been taking it easy for a few weeks, in perfect weather, on holiday. The only times I have had to get up early, was to do the two Ironman events. Races which were completed below threshold without any particular difficulties, other than dodgy French portaloos in Nice, and uncharacteristically hot and humid weather in Zurich.
Meanwhile, back in Perth, many North Coasters and cycling mates have been getting up very early, in the cold, dark and wet, then enduring many hours of discomfort, doing many more hours per week, at a much higher intensity, meanwhile, doing a full week of work.
Though I should have a decent foundation upon which to build some quality training, my capability to maintain a decent threshold of effort was nowhere near where it should be. To address this would need a smarter approach than just doing lots of hours and kilometres, which aren't really an option anyway.
Fortunately, a few of my good friends are excellent cyclists who have a completely different perspective to many fellow Ironman competitors. A classic example of difference between the cyclists I know and the triathletes is this concept of Ironman Fatigue. The conventional wisdom seems to be that when you are fatigued, it is all a necessary part of the training, just train more, no excuses.
Having now done 11, and managed to go sub 6 on the bike, and run a 4 hour marathon +/- 15 mins in pretty much all of them, despite my advancing years, waist dimensions and damaged joints, I hope I am not breaking some kind of "Magic Circle Code". But, can I please inform you that unless you are wanting to be pushing nine hours or so, having to put up with this so-called "Ironman Fatigue", and spending weeks, or in many cases, months, like some kind of zombie, is a complete load of bollocks! A few lie-ins in now and again could actually make you quicker. And, more importantly, healthier.
The cyclists I know, including current record holders, world, Olympic, national and state champions, find this quite bizarre. On the contrary, when they are fatigued, they stop, rest, modify their programme, come back stronger and able to train effectively. The principle they follow is that if you are not properly recovered, sessions cannot hit the thresholds you need to make you better - the whole point of training. Their concern is what they call "digging a hole" where you get into this fatigued spiral of losing form, so feel compelled that you have to train harder, longer, which, typically leads to the inevitable consequence of making things worse.
So apart from some carefully digested nuggets of wisdom and rides with Kona guru Bill Whalley, my main mentors and companions in key sessions would be cyclists: such as Matt Dec, Russell Brooks, his better half, Kona Ironman Natalie Laurendau, and the JCC 'A' group of cyclists. I tried to get some guidance and advice from Matt Illingworth, but his input tends to be abusive or unprintable.
For swimming I am blessed with advice from Paul Newsome and Aaron Robertson. I just wish I could do their efforts justice.
Grumpy old man
For the first week back from Europe the weather was shit. Writing this paragraph now, retrospectively, what I wasn't to know then was that it was going to get progressively worse for the entire 10 weeks. I missed most of my planned rides. I had been away for seven weeks and had lots of catching up to do at work. There was also an appointment with the accountant which needed lots of preparation which obviously had to take precedence.
If acclimatising to an untypical harsh winter was not bad enough, the drive home from the airport reminded me of another shock to the system I would have to deal with.
Over the past few years we have been exceptionally fortunate in having several visits to Italy, close to the Swiss border, and consequently driven extensively in both countries. No matter how nice it is there, it is always good to come home to Perth, which, in almost every respect, is another stroke of exceptional fortune.
For running, the most important thing for me is to manage injuries. Running with Julie has been a blessing, and given me some decent conditioning. Most of my runs now are with Julie (we have both got entries into the New York Marathon in November 2014 - a long-term plan for Julie is to coincide her 50th birthday celebrations with her marathon debut). This also takes away some of the selfish aspects of Ironman training. I am able to run 4 minute kms with a bit of training over short distances, BUT, the problem is that I then have to take a couple of months off for my knees to recover. On the other hand, my body does seem to be able to cope with running slower for longer runs. So for running there would be no programme, just a general plan, which would be amended when the body complained. My key goal was to do the City to Surf Half Marathon at just a fraction quicker than 5 minute kms. To get through these few weeks injury free I have to accept that I need several days a week with no runs, or rides, to recover fully from each session. It would be nice to do a 4 hour marathon in Kona, but a more realistic aim is to be healthy on the day and just see how it goes - hopefully an Ironman shuffle somewhere just over 4 hours.
The 1 hour 46 swim in Lake Zurich also rammed home the fact that something had to be done there. So I committed to a weekly regime unlike anything I had done before. And I could not use the weather as an excuse here. So every Monday morning was with Paul Newsome's Swim Smooth at Claremont, and every Monday evening at Craigie with Aaron Robertson's North Coast squad. Yep, twice in one day. Wednesday evening would be back with Aaron again at Craigie, and Friday morning on my own at Craigie. Here, I was lucky to meet up with a group of mainly North Coasters which I gate crashed until my Kona departure. Four times a week. A quantum leap for me.
So, how did it go?
Week 10: 3 swims, 6km (lost Friday to work commitment); 1 road ride, 90km; 1 hour of power on ergo; 3 runs 24km.
Week 9: 4 swims 7km; 3 rides 170km; 2 runs 16 km, sore calf.
Key day - Saturday, did JCC ride in the morning, on limit (90km) then an Indian Ocean Adventure Race (IOAR) in the afternoon. A big day. Adventure race was in Swan Valley and included swimming in a flooded Avon River near the women's prison and an 11km surf ski, my first time in the ski since January. This was followed by a 20km MTB race in John Forest National Park and an 8km run, or more of a scramble, which included a swim at a weir. The best leg was in the John Forest Tavern. Another excellent race put on by Leigh Willison and course marker Pete Gill.
The 75 km ride to Yanchep with Russell on Tuesday morning, which included an "hour of power", where he let me sit on his wheel, was like a motor paced session for me.
Week 8: Key day Sunday TT riding out and back. 4 swims, 10km; 3 rides, 295km (included a 20km TT at >39kph), plus one 28 min Power Crank session and one 28 min Ergo session; 2 runs, 21km.
Week 7: Key day, Sunday, City to Surf Half Marathon 1hour 39 at just <5 min km (sore legs for rest of week). 4 swims, 12km including a 4km swim at Craigie (longest pool swim ever);
In the midst of this unprecedented shit weather, triathletes doing 3 or 4 hour indoor cycling sessions, for a race that is 4 months away, kept popping up on Facebook. For me, this is beyond comprehension.
Meanwhile, with Nat now back from Canada, and therefore no spare ergo trainer in their house, and having had to abort yet another 5 hour ride in dangerous, wild weather, my riding companion, and current 160-mile state champion (3 hours 53), Matt Dec, asked me what I was doing instead of going for a ride. I told him I was doing my longest ever ride, on the ergo trainer he had lent me: 55 minutes. "What the f*** are you doing that for? Do it for half an hour, but do it harder. Don't waste your time doing it any longer."
But at last, Thursday, a key cycling day, and the first Thursday since I got back with a chance to do a proper ride. Weather during the night, was again shit, but I rode down to the start of Pappa's wet and cold. Dedication! But no Tim Howley, Ronnie Sammut, Deccy, Russel or Nat. In fact there were just 4 young lads in their 20s. Between them there was zero body fat, zero body hair, and every one was on a team bike, in team gear. Time for a phone call to find out where Deccy was. "King's Park, not doing Pappas in this, too dangerous". We eventually met up for a decent, solid Thursday ride of more than 110 kms.
Week 6: 4 swims, 9km; 3 rides, 400km plus 1 ergo session; 3 runs, 25km.
Started off this week on the Saturday with one of the hardest rides I have ever done. Billy's Busso 2013 group was off to do Julimar Road. I wanted to do this ride, but this was a big day for our family. Daughter Rebecca was due to fly in to Perth, just after noon, after being in Europe since early February. We had to leave home at 11.30 a.m. to pick her up. Plan A: start with JCC, then solo to 2 Rocks and back home. This is a regular IM ride for Bill, Apple Nick and I. However, again, the weather was awful. Plan B: Drive to Bullsbrook and catch up with Billy's group who left at 6, with the aim of riding out to the 60km mark then turning round. I arrived at 6 40 but it was absolutely pissing down. It looked like it would clear up soon, and in 5 mins it did. So off I went to catch them up. I caught up with a couple early on, including Miriam who was having a bad day. I felt like I was really going well on Julimar Road, I was flying. But the clock was ticking, it was 9 a.m. and I had not caught the main group. I had done 58km, but why was I doing over 40kph going up hill? Shit. Massive tail wind and I have to turn round into it and get back to the car by 11. Turn round now! The next 58km was probably one of the most difficult and stressful solo rides I have ever done. Even trying to hold a modest 30kph was proving impossible. Where was the strong man of Billy's group, Nino. I was hoping they would catch me and I could sit on Nino's wheel and have a rest for a few kms. Nino, nor anyone else from Bill's group appeared. Watching the speed drop, whilst, meanwhile, the watch relentlessly ticked on, was traumatic. At one point I was nearly in tears. That was one killer headwind. Anyway, my paternal instinct managed to force more watts through the pedals than I usually manage and we got to the airport just in time.
The following day I missed the start of another ride. The JCC social ride to Freo. I chased them hard all the way and just caught them up as they got to the Capuccino Strip. Knackered. At least I would be able to sit in and have an easy ride home. Then Deccy turned up. "Do you fancy a ride around the river?" So around the river we went. Unfortunately, he knows me too well, and knows I need toughening up. He would not let me sit on his wheel. So another solid ride taking the weekend total over 200km.
But Thursday put both those rides in the shade. Down the West Coast Highway to do the Freo Pappas ride. Along the way riders joined up that were basically a Who's Who of Perth's elite cycling community. This ride was at warp speed. Just riding to the start was epic. Even Matt Illingworth had a word with Matt Dec to get him to slow down. This ride goes as far south as Anketell Road, then round Wandi. This seems like a long way down the Kwinana Freeway in a car! When we eventually got back to the river, at Shelley, we re-grouped, and along with Russell, Nat and Special K, who has done more IM than I have, it was off to Welshpool Road for a big loop of Pickering Brook and Kalamunda. A massive, hard, fast day of 192 km. At last. A good, solid, hard big week.
Week 5: 3 swims, 6.5 km; Cycle: 1 ride, 160 km + 1 ergo (including Dwellingup 100 MTB); 2 runs, 34km.
Dwellingup 100 MTB was the perfect Ironman training ride. Just less than 6 hours with pulse around 130. Still very tired from the massive previous week and the 192 just 2 days earlier. My lower back was as debilitating as ever during the MTB. Needed a few days off after this.
Week 4: 4 swims, 9.5 km; 1 ride, 160km plus ergo; 3 runs, 27km
This week started with a disaster. Typically, before an Ironman I am not too worried about lack of miles at this stage. For me it is the next three weekends which are key. They need to be big rides and progressively longer runs. I could not afford a completely lost weekend, but shit happens. A bad storm early on Saturday morning fried our electricity meter, and caused a few problems which could not be put off. Western Power had to disconnect our power for 3 days. So what? We only have one, electric access door to the garage, where the bikes are. No power, no bikes, no riding. The implications of this meant little else could be done this weekend. And the legs weren't up for a decent run either. Wasting time waiting for tradesmen was also another exercise in futility I could have done without.
So "only" one ride, and one ergo session. But, what a ride. Another Thursday Pappas ride in shit weather. For some reason the start of the ride was a bit "iffy". A couple or riders touched wheels inches in front of me. They were good riders, and stayed on, but, it could have been so different. Russell, Nat and myself all felt a bit vulnerable so we let them go and rode the rest of the way off the back. Nat probably should not have been riding, she was not well, but insistent she needed to do her 150km regardless. Welshpool Road it was, after the Pappas ride, but at least we did compromise and do the "short" Kalamunda loop. What made it a good session for me was that I was on a deadline to be home and had to leave them at Kalamunda to time trial solo, into a headwind, back home. So not many rides, not many kilometres, but that, combined with one of Deccy's Ergo sessions left me feeling stronger, but also knackered.
Week 3: 2 swims, 5km. 4 rides, 240 km.; 1 run, turned round at 1km, Left knee not good. No runs for rest of week.
This should have been another big weekend. The plan was to ride to Champion Lakes, do the 20km TT then ride home. Would have given me 160 for the day and a 400+ week, but the wild weather warning meant I drove there. Surely less miles but not crashing is better than risking injury. Sadly, that calculation did not work. My left knee flared up at the end of the TT. Taking Naproxen is not something I do lightly, but not much choice at this stage. Had a couple of aborted rides this week too.
And it is getting so close. Just 2 more rides, and one run, then Kona it is. So much to do (not triathlon related), so little time!
Saturday, August 3, 2013
Ok, time to switch on and focus. 10 weeks to race day. I have had a handful of big days during the past few weeks in Europe, but the reality is that training has, at best, been modest, restricted by other priorities. I have been taking it easy for a few weeks, in perfect weather, on holiday. The only times I have had to get up early, was to do the two Ironman events. Races which were completed below threshold without any particular difficulties, other than dodgy French portaloos in Nice, and uncharacteristically hot and humid weather in Zurich.
Meanwhile, back in Perth, many North Coasters and cycling mates have been getting up very early, in the cold, dark and wet, then enduring many hours of discomfort, doing many more hours per week, at a much higher intensity, meanwhile, doing a full week of work.
Though I should have a decent foundation upon which to build some quality training, my capability to maintain a decent threshold of effort was nowhere near where it should be. To address this would need a smarter approach than just doing lots of hours and kilometres, which aren't really an option anyway.
Fortunately, a few of my good friends are excellent cyclists who have a completely different perspective to many fellow Ironman competitors. A classic example of difference between the cyclists I know and the triathletes is this concept of Ironman Fatigue. The conventional wisdom seems to be that when you are fatigued, it is all a necessary part of the training, just train more, no excuses.
Having now done 11, and managed to go sub 6 on the bike, and run a 4 hour marathon +/- 15 mins in pretty much all of them, despite my advancing years, waist dimensions and damaged joints, I hope I am not breaking some kind of "Magic Circle Code". But, can I please inform you that unless you are wanting to be pushing nine hours or so, having to put up with this so-called "Ironman Fatigue", and spending weeks, or in many cases, months, like some kind of zombie, is a complete load of bollocks! A few lie-ins in now and again could actually make you quicker. And, more importantly, healthier.
The cyclists I know, including current record holders, world, Olympic, national and state champions, find this quite bizarre. On the contrary, when they are fatigued, they stop, rest, modify their programme, come back stronger and able to train effectively. The principle they follow is that if you are not properly recovered, sessions cannot hit the thresholds you need to make you better - the whole point of training. Their concern is what they call "digging a hole" where you get into this fatigued spiral of losing form, so feel compelled that you have to train harder, longer, which, typically leads to the inevitable consequence of making things worse.
 |
| With Nera Jareb, Russell Brooks and Natalie Laurdendau. Nera recently cruised to a 2'56" in the Perth City to Surf Marathon as part of her Kona training |
For swimming I am blessed with advice from Paul Newsome and Aaron Robertson. I just wish I could do their efforts justice.
Grumpy old man
For the first week back from Europe the weather was shit. Writing this paragraph now, retrospectively, what I wasn't to know then was that it was going to get progressively worse for the entire 10 weeks. I missed most of my planned rides. I had been away for seven weeks and had lots of catching up to do at work. There was also an appointment with the accountant which needed lots of preparation which obviously had to take precedence.
If acclimatising to an untypical harsh winter was not bad enough, the drive home from the airport reminded me of another shock to the system I would have to deal with.
Over the past few years we have been exceptionally fortunate in having several visits to Italy, close to the Swiss border, and consequently driven extensively in both countries. No matter how nice it is there, it is always good to come home to Perth, which, in almost every respect, is another stroke of exceptional fortune.
But, Perth does have one massive, quite bizarre negative, which is difficult to understand, or explain. Having just experienced courtesy and etiquette as the norm, in Western Europe, the drive home from Perth airport inevitably rams home the stark contrast in driving standards and attitude. It never takes long to be reminded that WA is also home to what has to be the developed world's most arrogant, ignorant, inept, rude, aggressive, dangerous and unbelievably selfish driving culture.
Even in Italy, with what initially appears to be aggressive, fast, chaotic driving, on poorly designed roads and junctions, there is a distinct etiquette. Yes, they drive fast, but, equally, it is in the driving sub-conscience to concede, to let someone out, or in, without even thinking about it, just by modifying speed slightly, and giving a subtle signal, followed by an acknowledgement. Meanwhile the traffic keeps flowing, and everyone gets to their destination quicker. If this concession were not part of the culture, on the narrow, busy roads, there would be gridlock. Even simple merging is beyond many in WA, and a frequent cause of conflict.
Italians always seem to be in a hurry, and on many roads completely disregard speed limits, yet, on a narrow road they generally will wait for a safe place to pass cyclists. How hard can it be? How much time is actually lost? A mere fraction of the time we have to wait in Perth at poorly co-ordinated, mis-managed junctions.
Someone was recently making a similar point on Perth radio. Inevitably, there was the ignorant, overly-defensive response, using examples of accidents and bad drivers in Western Europe to somehow justify that drivers everywhere else are just as bad as here. This is depressing and demoralising. How will things ever improve when there seems to be such a lack of awareness that some of the things you see as a matter of routine here, obviously and inevitably happen elsewhere, but are the exception, rather than the rule, in most of the developed world?
In approximately 5000 kms of driving and cycling in Europe I can't remember one incident, seeing any aggressive or abusive behaviour. Yet, on my first days back here there were several incidents every single time I went out on the road.
After a spate of serious accidents the so-called experts and media blame either the speed limits, which compared to most places are quite low, or, amazingly, yet quite routinely, they blame the roads. Have they never been anywhere else? Did they have their eyes shut? Have they no road sense whatsoever? The traffic management here might be useless, but the quality of roads around Perth compare favourably to anywhere in the world, including Switzerland.
Riding partners and guidance needed
Anyway, despite the fact that I sometimes do have genuine fear of what any given ride might have in store, I had to get my head in gear. I needed to make arrangements with someone good, on the right wavelength, to get me motivated. I was certainly not ready for riding with Matt Dec for a couple of weeks, so I contacted Natalie Laurendau, Kona bound again, who is a quality triathlete, a particularly strong cyclist, and does a lot of the faster group rides around Perth.
Unfortunately for me, on my return to Perth, Nat was in Canada, visiting her family in Quebec, and competing in a 70.3. However, husband Russell, and A-grade cyclist, was still at home, so Nat got me to contact Russell and we arranged to meet at his house. The deal was that if the weather was too wild for a Pappas, River or Yanchep ride we would do the "Hour of Power" on the ergo, as Nat's machine was free. It is actually less than an hour, includes warm ups, and with the intervals you are only riding hard for 24 minutes. To give Russell some context, even in the crap weather this winter, and having a couple of weeks off with illness, he always rides well over the 40kph average in the ATTA time trials. He has done an impressive 4'25" on the bike leg of the Busselton Ironman too.
Riding partners and guidance needed
Anyway, despite the fact that I sometimes do have genuine fear of what any given ride might have in store, I had to get my head in gear. I needed to make arrangements with someone good, on the right wavelength, to get me motivated. I was certainly not ready for riding with Matt Dec for a couple of weeks, so I contacted Natalie Laurendau, Kona bound again, who is a quality triathlete, a particularly strong cyclist, and does a lot of the faster group rides around Perth.
Unfortunately for me, on my return to Perth, Nat was in Canada, visiting her family in Quebec, and competing in a 70.3. However, husband Russell, and A-grade cyclist, was still at home, so Nat got me to contact Russell and we arranged to meet at his house. The deal was that if the weather was too wild for a Pappas, River or Yanchep ride we would do the "Hour of Power" on the ergo, as Nat's machine was free. It is actually less than an hour, includes warm ups, and with the intervals you are only riding hard for 24 minutes. To give Russell some context, even in the crap weather this winter, and having a couple of weeks off with illness, he always rides well over the 40kph average in the ATTA time trials. He has done an impressive 4'25" on the bike leg of the Busselton Ironman too.
For running, the most important thing for me is to manage injuries. Running with Julie has been a blessing, and given me some decent conditioning. Most of my runs now are with Julie (we have both got entries into the New York Marathon in November 2014 - a long-term plan for Julie is to coincide her 50th birthday celebrations with her marathon debut). This also takes away some of the selfish aspects of Ironman training. I am able to run 4 minute kms with a bit of training over short distances, BUT, the problem is that I then have to take a couple of months off for my knees to recover. On the other hand, my body does seem to be able to cope with running slower for longer runs. So for running there would be no programme, just a general plan, which would be amended when the body complained. My key goal was to do the City to Surf Half Marathon at just a fraction quicker than 5 minute kms. To get through these few weeks injury free I have to accept that I need several days a week with no runs, or rides, to recover fully from each session. It would be nice to do a 4 hour marathon in Kona, but a more realistic aim is to be healthy on the day and just see how it goes - hopefully an Ironman shuffle somewhere just over 4 hours.
The 1 hour 46 swim in Lake Zurich also rammed home the fact that something had to be done there. So I committed to a weekly regime unlike anything I had done before. And I could not use the weather as an excuse here. So every Monday morning was with Paul Newsome's Swim Smooth at Claremont, and every Monday evening at Craigie with Aaron Robertson's North Coast squad. Yep, twice in one day. Wednesday evening would be back with Aaron again at Craigie, and Friday morning on my own at Craigie. Here, I was lucky to meet up with a group of mainly North Coasters which I gate crashed until my Kona departure. Four times a week. A quantum leap for me.
So, how did it go?
Week 10: 3 swims, 6km (lost Friday to work commitment); 1 road ride, 90km; 1 hour of power on ergo; 3 runs 24km.
Week 9: 4 swims 7km; 3 rides 170km; 2 runs 16 km, sore calf.
 |
| Indian Ocean Adventure Race - this is the run leg! |
The 75 km ride to Yanchep with Russell on Tuesday morning, which included an "hour of power", where he let me sit on his wheel, was like a motor paced session for me.
Week 8: Key day Sunday TT riding out and back. 4 swims, 10km; 3 rides, 295km (included a 20km TT at >39kph), plus one 28 min Power Crank session and one 28 min Ergo session; 2 runs, 21km.
Week 7: Key day, Sunday, City to Surf Half Marathon 1hour 39 at just <5 min km (sore legs for rest of week). 4 swims, 12km including a 4km swim at Craigie (longest pool swim ever);
In the midst of this unprecedented shit weather, triathletes doing 3 or 4 hour indoor cycling sessions, for a race that is 4 months away, kept popping up on Facebook. For me, this is beyond comprehension.
 |
| IOAR racer, North Coaster Kona Ironman and writer of the best triathlon diary - ever - Paul Black |
But at last, Thursday, a key cycling day, and the first Thursday since I got back with a chance to do a proper ride. Weather during the night, was again shit, but I rode down to the start of Pappa's wet and cold. Dedication! But no Tim Howley, Ronnie Sammut, Deccy, Russel or Nat. In fact there were just 4 young lads in their 20s. Between them there was zero body fat, zero body hair, and every one was on a team bike, in team gear. Time for a phone call to find out where Deccy was. "King's Park, not doing Pappas in this, too dangerous". We eventually met up for a decent, solid Thursday ride of more than 110 kms.
Week 6: 4 swims, 9km; 3 rides, 400km plus 1 ergo session; 3 runs, 25km.
Started off this week on the Saturday with one of the hardest rides I have ever done. Billy's Busso 2013 group was off to do Julimar Road. I wanted to do this ride, but this was a big day for our family. Daughter Rebecca was due to fly in to Perth, just after noon, after being in Europe since early February. We had to leave home at 11.30 a.m. to pick her up. Plan A: start with JCC, then solo to 2 Rocks and back home. This is a regular IM ride for Bill, Apple Nick and I. However, again, the weather was awful. Plan B: Drive to Bullsbrook and catch up with Billy's group who left at 6, with the aim of riding out to the 60km mark then turning round. I arrived at 6 40 but it was absolutely pissing down. It looked like it would clear up soon, and in 5 mins it did. So off I went to catch them up. I caught up with a couple early on, including Miriam who was having a bad day. I felt like I was really going well on Julimar Road, I was flying. But the clock was ticking, it was 9 a.m. and I had not caught the main group. I had done 58km, but why was I doing over 40kph going up hill? Shit. Massive tail wind and I have to turn round into it and get back to the car by 11. Turn round now! The next 58km was probably one of the most difficult and stressful solo rides I have ever done. Even trying to hold a modest 30kph was proving impossible. Where was the strong man of Billy's group, Nino. I was hoping they would catch me and I could sit on Nino's wheel and have a rest for a few kms. Nino, nor anyone else from Bill's group appeared. Watching the speed drop, whilst, meanwhile, the watch relentlessly ticked on, was traumatic. At one point I was nearly in tears. That was one killer headwind. Anyway, my paternal instinct managed to force more watts through the pedals than I usually manage and we got to the airport just in time.
The following day I missed the start of another ride. The JCC social ride to Freo. I chased them hard all the way and just caught them up as they got to the Capuccino Strip. Knackered. At least I would be able to sit in and have an easy ride home. Then Deccy turned up. "Do you fancy a ride around the river?" So around the river we went. Unfortunately, he knows me too well, and knows I need toughening up. He would not let me sit on his wheel. So another solid ride taking the weekend total over 200km.
But Thursday put both those rides in the shade. Down the West Coast Highway to do the Freo Pappas ride. Along the way riders joined up that were basically a Who's Who of Perth's elite cycling community. This ride was at warp speed. Just riding to the start was epic. Even Matt Illingworth had a word with Matt Dec to get him to slow down. This ride goes as far south as Anketell Road, then round Wandi. This seems like a long way down the Kwinana Freeway in a car! When we eventually got back to the river, at Shelley, we re-grouped, and along with Russell, Nat and Special K, who has done more IM than I have, it was off to Welshpool Road for a big loop of Pickering Brook and Kalamunda. A massive, hard, fast day of 192 km. At last. A good, solid, hard big week.
Week 5: 3 swims, 6.5 km; Cycle: 1 ride, 160 km + 1 ergo (including Dwellingup 100 MTB); 2 runs, 34km.
Dwellingup 100 MTB was the perfect Ironman training ride. Just less than 6 hours with pulse around 130. Still very tired from the massive previous week and the 192 just 2 days earlier. My lower back was as debilitating as ever during the MTB. Needed a few days off after this.
Week 4: 4 swims, 9.5 km; 1 ride, 160km plus ergo; 3 runs, 27km
This week started with a disaster. Typically, before an Ironman I am not too worried about lack of miles at this stage. For me it is the next three weekends which are key. They need to be big rides and progressively longer runs. I could not afford a completely lost weekend, but shit happens. A bad storm early on Saturday morning fried our electricity meter, and caused a few problems which could not be put off. Western Power had to disconnect our power for 3 days. So what? We only have one, electric access door to the garage, where the bikes are. No power, no bikes, no riding. The implications of this meant little else could be done this weekend. And the legs weren't up for a decent run either. Wasting time waiting for tradesmen was also another exercise in futility I could have done without.
So "only" one ride, and one ergo session. But, what a ride. Another Thursday Pappas ride in shit weather. For some reason the start of the ride was a bit "iffy". A couple or riders touched wheels inches in front of me. They were good riders, and stayed on, but, it could have been so different. Russell, Nat and myself all felt a bit vulnerable so we let them go and rode the rest of the way off the back. Nat probably should not have been riding, she was not well, but insistent she needed to do her 150km regardless. Welshpool Road it was, after the Pappas ride, but at least we did compromise and do the "short" Kalamunda loop. What made it a good session for me was that I was on a deadline to be home and had to leave them at Kalamunda to time trial solo, into a headwind, back home. So not many rides, not many kilometres, but that, combined with one of Deccy's Ergo sessions left me feeling stronger, but also knackered.
Week 3: 2 swims, 5km. 4 rides, 240 km.; 1 run, turned round at 1km, Left knee not good. No runs for rest of week.
This should have been another big weekend. The plan was to ride to Champion Lakes, do the 20km TT then ride home. Would have given me 160 for the day and a 400+ week, but the wild weather warning meant I drove there. Surely less miles but not crashing is better than risking injury. Sadly, that calculation did not work. My left knee flared up at the end of the TT. Taking Naproxen is not something I do lightly, but not much choice at this stage. Had a couple of aborted rides this week too.
And it is getting so close. Just 2 more rides, and one run, then Kona it is. So much to do (not triathlon related), so little time!
Saturday, 21 September 2013
Wednesday, 18 September 2013
Blog 5: Ironman Switzerland
IRONMAN ZURICH - July 28, 2013
This was the second visit to Zurich in three weeks.
The first was following a sensational drive from Lake Como in northern Italy,
over a spectacular, high Alpine pass, to the hotel in Horgen, near Zurich.
Here, the bike was put in storage until the race to free us of the hassle and
restriction of dragging it around Europe.
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| On the Italian side of the border near the summit of the Splugen Pass |
A Sat Nav will not direct you from Como to Zurich
this way, nor would this road feature in a European Road Atlas. The Splugen
Pass, north from Chiavenna, starts with a 33km climb up a tortuous, narrow
mountain road of countless hairpin bends, alongside vast chasms. This pass is
typically closed from November through the winter. This year it was still
closed in June. The Italian Swiss border at the summit is not usually manned,
hence the bonus of not being stung for the road license sticker you have to buy
when you enter Switzerland on busier routes. An absolutely amazing drive, but
not if vertigo or narrow roads are an issue.
Three weeks later, flying into Basel from Manchester,
for the Ironman, the landscape gave a completely different impression. The northern part of the country, where Basel and Zurich are located, is picturesque and scenic, but gently undulating, rather than the more spectacular, mountain
scenery we experienced on our drive over from Lake Como, Italy.
Arriving through Basel Europort was an experience
in itself, being sited at the junction of three countries. After getting the
luggage off the carousel there were three options to exit customs - France,
Germany or Switzerland. Taking the Swiss option it was a very short wait for a
shuttle to the train station, another short wait for the train from Basel to
Zurich, then another short wait for the local train to Horgen, where I was
staying with Nirvana (the Euro version of Tritravel). At Horgen, the station
was about 50 metres from the hotel. Swiss efficiency. Magnificent.
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| Typical Ningaloo tour bus passengers. Swiss and German. I should drive the bus more often. For those who have the impression I am not very dedicated just look at the sacrifice made to get to Kona |
Meanwhile in Australia, the Murdoch Press, Abbott
and Hockey, Gina and Clive, were warning us about the evils of carbon prices,
environmental levies, high taxes and government investment in rail systems. The
result of all this, they claim, would be inevitable economic doom and gloom.
Have they not been to Switzerland?
I don't think they have been on a tour bus in
Australia recently either. My fellow tour operators are very grateful the Swiss
economy is so strong. The tour industry is struggling from the huge fall of
international travellers to our shores. Luckily, the Swiss can still afford to
travel to, and within Australia. They are making a significant contribution in
keeping sectors of the Australian tour industry afloat, with young Swiss
currently making up a large proportion of the travellers around Australia.
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| Chilling out in Zurichsee |
Lake Zurich is a fantastic location for an
Ironman. A perfect lake to swim in, an excellent scenic bike course,
challenging but not daunting, on impeccable roads, all superbly organised. Not
so perfect though, is the fact that our hotel, which many triathletes were
staying in, was 10kms down the lake from the Ironman Village. The athlete
accommodation was very dispersed. There were no places to stay close to the race site.
The location of the "village" itself was
fantastic. Start, finish and transitions were all here, and it was situated in
beautiful parklands on the shoreline of Lake Zurich. This was perfect in the
hot days leading up to the race, chilling on the grass, eating and drinking,
with fellow triathletes, and frequent dips in the water to cool down.
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| 2013 European Champion Javier Gomez |
Whilst we were checking-in our bikes, the day
before the race, there were a lot of support events going on. I assumed, as is
usual, that these races were merely for children or beginner triathletes. But
they were absolutely flying. As we got closer there was one who looked remarkably like Javier
Gomez.
We had stumbled upon the European 5150
Championships (not that I know what 5150 is). With the obvious exception of the
Brownleys, here were Europe's best, plus a fair sprinkling of world class
Aussies and Kiwis, including the day's female winner, Emma Moffatt.
Unfortunately, for Emma, the small detail of Australia not being in Europe
prevented her from becoming European Champion.
This was raced in exceptionally hot conditions,
which were a concern for my new mate Rob Doherty who had done most of his Ironman
training in the wet and cold of Ireland. Following the race
Rob went to congratulate fellow countryman Kevin Noble on his impressive
performance in the pro ranks. Kevin responded by giving us some pre-race
advice: "Get out of this feckin heat man, and put your feet up". (Rob ended up having a very impressive sub-11 race despite the heat).
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| Rob Doherty with fellow countryman Kevin Noble |
Unfortunately, following this sound advice was not
as simple as it should have been. Amazingly, despite Swiss technological expertise and economic strength, air-conditioning seems to take a much lower
priority than having a nice accurate clock. Our highly rated 3-star hotel did not
even have air conditioning in most rooms. This was awful. During the nights
leading up to the race the room temperature was 31C! It was practically
impossible to get a decent night's sleep. Before the race even started we were
dehydrated and knackered. Not good!
But it was what is was, and there was bugger all we
could do about it. The better news, and more importantly, all my limbs seemed to be
functioning without any major issues, and I felt healthy. They say recovery is the most
important part of training and over recent months I had done plenty of that.
Also, the few rides that I had done were long and hard, and just 5 weeks ago I had done an
Ironman. That had to be worth something.
By the time the race-day came, I had even got my
head around the shock of swimming, without the buoyancy of a wet suit, in tepid
freshwater. I just had to accept I
would be slow. I was ready to go, able to smile at my incredible fortune of
being on the start-line, in another magnificent location, healthy, and confident that I could get round without too many
dramas.
Before my first couple of Ironman races I did get
nervous. After a break of a few years I did my third Ironman, and first at
Busselton. This time I remember standing with Mike Wren who was trying to
reassure me I would be OK. I was looking out at the Busselton Jetty and
practically shitting myself at the thought of having to swim all that way around it. I
wasn't bothered about the rest of the day, just the Jetty.
Since then, other experiences have taught me a far
better philosophy. There have been a number of races I have entered, but not even been able
to start, so I now appreciate that getting to the start line fit and healthy is
a major achievement and worth appreciating, and something to savour as you wait
on the start line.
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| How is it possible that you can buy a motor-bike to do the Australian Safari, for much less than many pay for a push-bike to do a triathlon? |
Participating in the Australian Safari was a game changer. It was like doing an Ironman every day for 8-days, but worse - a real education. This
was truly brutal - many times more physically and mentally challenging, and
with a similar statistical risk as Russian Roulette. Also racing that year was a lean AFL legend Tony "Plugger" Lockett. He said he was far fitter, and trained harder for this event, than at any time in his AFL career, and even he said it was the most challenging thing he had ever done.
Racing through the bush
and desert, at stupid speeds, often doing over 140 kph, from dawn until after dark,
inevitably having a few high speed crashes along he way. At times it felt
like I was merely hanging on to the bike waiting to die, yet being so extremely fatigued, apathetic to the potential
consequences. How any of them manage to survive the Dakar is beyond
comprehension. Now, before an Ironman I do not feel nervous, or apprehensive at all. Perspective!
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| Race day dawn. The calm before the storm |
This time, being ready to go for the second time in
five weeks, the water actually looked welcoming, the setting magnificent, and I
was really looking forward to going on a nice, long, catered bike ride. Bring
it on.
Predictions
On the eve of the race, at dinner with fellow
participants, we all stated our predicted race times: My prediction, taking holiday, wet suit and Kona into consideration, was:
Swim:1'40"-1'45"; Bike: 5'59"; Run:
4'30". Finish: 12'29".
I was prepared to be slow, but not that slow. It was a shock
to see my swim split as I entered T1. 1 hour 46"! Shit - it did not feel THAT bad.
My IOAR mate Greg Mickle did an IM swim almost a
full hour quicker than that two years ago - in 49 minutes! That is a monumental
difference.
It must be pointed out though, that the typical
Swiss precision was uncharacteristically lax here. With the lake being
surrounded by hills it was the straightest swim I have ever done, which my
Garmin confirms. There was always a church, mast, tower, or other landmark to
sight and aim for. So, unusually for me, no wasted distance covered - yet, the
Garmin distance was 4.3kms!
Need to include a disclaimer somewhere: both my
swimming coaches are threatening legal action if their names are associated
with me. I will thank them both publicly, when I improve that time by
over 30 minutes in Kona. In all sincerity I do owe both a great deal of
gratitude. I may not be fast, but I am so much better than I used to be.
Without them, I could very well have drowned. I enjoy swimming now, and it is
much easier.
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| Enjoying the scenery |
To be fair, it was a slow swim for everyone. Even many of the
professionals were in the water for over an hour. I also met a bloke who had
done Busselton in 1'06"; his time 1'25".
Two very nice laps, through pretty Swiss villages
and hamlets and past celebrity homes, such as Tina Turner's who had Oprah staying
there for a visit. A few decent hills, but nothing like the monster climbs of
Nice. The highlight was Heartbreak Hill at the end of each lap. Not too long,
but quite steep, with enthusiastic Alpe d'Huez type crowds lining the road.
It was on Heartbreak Hill almost at the end of the
ride, where it could have all ended in tears. Inspired by the exploits of Peter
Sagan in the Tour de France, I remembered that I could do wheelies as good as him (the older I get the better I was). What I forgot? That was around 35
years ago. Regardless, inspired by Sagan and the crowd, near the top, up the
front wheel came. Brilliant. I can still do th . . . shit! A gust of wind caught the deep dish front wheel (thanks for the loan Matt) and
turned me sideways. The crowd, Deccy's wheel, and I, escaped unscathed, but I won't be doing that again.
 |
| A highlight was Heartbreak Hill and the crowd |
Elsewhere there were traditional Swiss bands lining
the route, and a good vibe all the way around, on very smooth, safe roads. All
very nice.
Except it was hot, and humid. On
the second lap my Garmin recorded over 42C. I have done a couple of 40C Ironmen,
and 43C in the Cape Epic MTB race in South Africa, but nothing with this
humidity. On the last climb it was debilitating. Officially it might have
"only" been 35 in the shade. We weren't in the shade!
Nevertheless, the only real difficulty was a climb
that seemed to last forever on the second lap - running parallel to a railway
track. Now, that does your head in. How can a hill be so steep when you can
see a train track running parallel alongside? Perhaps the wind, heat, humidity and lack of fitness had something to do with it.
Regardless, with punctuality Herr Rolex himself would be proud, I completed the bike time, as predicted, in precisely
5'59".
This was slower than my time on the
much more challenging IM Nice ride 5 weeks earlier, but considering the fact that
my bike stayed in its box for 3 weeks, whilst we toured around Europe, this was
OK.
A noteworthy debutant at IM Zurich was one of the
world’s very best cyclists, Emma Pooley. Emma is a regular in Perth during our
summer months, participating weekly in local races and time trials, and doing a
lot of the better group rides around Perth.
She is one of the world’s best time-trial riders,
particularly on hillier circuits, winning the World Championship on the testing
hilly Geelong circuit a couple of years ago, and has won many stage races and
some of the top one day international classics in Europe, some in recent
months. And, what will impress some, she has kept Matt Illingworth honest on 200km+ rides into the Perth hills.
It turns out she can also swim, and knock out a marathon well under 3 hours. In a recent ultra distance triathlon in Switzerland, she was first female pro, and 5th overall! Yet, despite her undisputed class, feeling she was
in form and had ridden well, she was beaten by several minutes on the bike leg.
Raised eyebrows anyone? Overall she finished 5th Female Pro.
The run
The professionals did it tough. For them it was hot and
humid for the whole race. I was seriously concerned about the heat and humidity at the
start of the run. It was a real struggle, so was conservative with pace. I managed to run the distance, but walked through a few of the aid stations to make sure I was taking on
as much fluid and nutrition as my stomach could tolerate.
 |
| Scenery not looking quite so good now |
Luckily for me the heat-wave broke at the end of my second lap, and I finished in heavy rain, which was quite nice after such a hot
day, and managed to get to the end on schedule without any real dramas.
I did really like the swim and bike leg, but the
run? It wasn't bad, with a stretch along the lakeside, but it wasn't the most
scenic I have ever done, and a bit convoluted in parts - or is it just that I
have been spoilt by Busselton and Nice. It was 4 x 10.5 km laps which seems to
be quite common now.
And the time, again, with Swiss precision, bang on
– 4'30"!
So, which was the best?
There were some absolutely great things about the
Swiss IM, and special aspects that were unique, but when the athlete's
accommodation is quite dispersed, and separate from the IM "village"
an event inevitably loses some of the "vibe”. A consequence is that competitors
often don't go back to watch the slower athletes come in, which for me, is the
magic of IM.
Look at Taupo, or Nice, where the accommodation is
concentrated around the event's focal point. At those races, spectators, and athletes who
have finished earlier, come back to the finish until the very end. The atmosphere
is special, especially as the last finishers attempt to beat the deadline.
I always try to get to the finish for the final hours, but
this time did not, so am unable to comment on what the Swiss late night
finish line experience was like. Why? After a long day, the hotel, like most of
the accommodation, was too far away. And even the Swiss don’t run trains every
5 minutes between 11 and 12 on a Sunday night.
Both races were enjoyable, and I am glad I had the opportunity to do them both. Of the two I preferred the French race: a spectacular bike ride,
compact event, really special setting for the pasta party and awards
ceremony, great vibe at the finish and such a good holiday location; but the Swiss race is also a great event, very
popular, and a fantastic experience.
BTW, my finish time in Zurich: 12'29"!
Just need to be an hour or two quicker in 11 weeks.
I did at least have one impressive statistic from Zurich, which was revealed when I downloaded my computers at home. Maximum speed on the bike: 94.4kph!
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