Ironman 2010 Port Macquarie

Ironman. My second time round and hoping for some revenge on the course which had humbled me last year. I did my first ironman in the pouring rain and overdrank water, paranoid as I was about being dehydrated. With the cool conditions and low sweat rate I started to get hynonatremic and by the second lap of the ride my legs stopped working and I pissing a river every half hour, my body so denuded of electrolytes and sodium that it was unable to hold onto any fluid. The run turned into a 5 hour shuffle and I finished in the pitch black in just over 13 hours.

Of course it wasn't that bad. To be honest I was deliriously happy to have been able to finish the whole thing, no mean feat. I wasn't going to go round again this year, but as the year wore on I thought about it more and more. By January I was riding and running more than at the same point last year and already doing a bit of swimming, so it seemed natural to give it a go. Plus Andrew had booked in for it, and other mates were talking about it. I dithered until close to the cut-off date at the end of January, but finally thought my fitness is already there, I've got a fantastic endurance base, it seems a shame not to do the race... So once again I clenched my teeth, closed my eyes and hit "submit" on the website to punish my credit card with another entry fee and lock myself in for a day of pain.

Training

Preparations were textbook. Over Christmas holidays with Sarah away in Thailand I managed two weeks of about 550km per week (including one single day ride of 300km to Goulburn). That was followed with the Alpine Classic again on Australia Day and a long weekend in Thredbo with the Boundary Riders in late Feb (both of which I've been meaning to blog about for quite some time). I was running with the Striders for 30km every Sunday with a couple of longer bush runs in the mix too - 3 laps of Quarry Road the Boxing Day weekend and Beyond the Black Stump on New Years Day. Plus half ironmans in Canberra in December and Huskisson in Feb.

By the time I was 2 weeks out from the race I'd had an extremely consistent few months with solid training across all 3 disciplines every single week. No illnesses, no injuries, no holidays, no slack weeks. And amazingly, I never got tired of all the training, as I had the previous year. It seemed like a reasonable amount and I was pretty much always stoked to go out for every session. Then the last couple of weeks I tapered as per all the guidelines - same intensity, same frequency, gradually less duration.

I managed to find a room with some mates of Todd from HuRTS. Paul, Angus and Mike - really good blokes all doing their 2nd or 3rd ironman. We stayed at Flynns Beach, same place as last year. Sarah and I had bought a new car a month before and I held onto the old grey beast for 4 weeks purely to be able to use it this weekend. I drove up Friday feeling calm, centred and ready for a good race.

The Race

Let's skip the minutiae of the preceding couple of days. Race day looked to be perfect conditions - clear skies, warm 27 or 28 degrees and being a week early we were still in daylight savings so with a 6.45am start and sunset at 6.45pm, I needed to finish in under 12 hours to complete the race in daylight and avoid the dreaded glowstick! My goals were simple:
1) Beat my time from last year
2) Finish in daylight
3) Ideally do somewhere between 11.00 and 11.59

The only angst I had the day before was whether to do a complete change of outfit for every leg, or wear a trisuit and save tons of time in transition. However, not having worn the suit on any of my long rides or runs, I decided to stick with the trusted gear and get changed.

So i slept peacefully and woke up calm. Cruised to the start, checked the bike - all ok, and started slipping on my wetsuit. Once again I got the trust BlueSeventy volunteers to give me a good wedgie and get the suit on properly, when suddenly the big burly bloke zipping me up gasped, then said "Uhhh mate... we have a problem. Your zipper just came off in my hands..."

Thoughts rushed through my head. Can I swim with the suit swinging open? No that's crazy talk. Why didn't I bring my other suit as a backup? Will I swim the thing in just shorts? But it turned out he was able to zip it up, I would probably just need some help getting free. Big sigh of relief.

Swim

Padded down to the start and had barely got my feet wet when the anthem started and then the cannon boomed and we were off. Foolishly I'd placed myself about halfway down the field and immediately ran into the churning feet of a tight phalanx of slower swimmers. Oddly enough I was still preternaturally calm for some reason and did my best to focus quietly on my stroke and everything I'd learned at Vlad's squad training. When people converged from both sides, or swam across my head diagonally as they drifted off-course I did my best to gently hold and push aside their thrashing limbs to avoid being smacked. The water was alternating warm and cold in patches, there was no wind or chop and the rivermouth was clear enough to see the bottom at the shallow parts so it was a good swim. The first turnaround came almost instantly it felt like, but after the turning buoy the way back involved a lot of having to stop dead at not being able to penetrate the ranks of the swimmers in front. A lot of casting around for clear water, swimming sideways to get around people and spending most of this section with my head out of the water. I was thinking "Next year I'm going to push closer to the front, this is costing me a good few minutes".

But by the second lap it had cleared out a bit and I was able to get my head down and concentrate on stroke. All my swimming training kicked in and I had one of my best triathlon swims ever, just feeling relaxed and fluid, moving fast but not burning energy. Decent swim training makes a huge difference!

Swim time - 59:21 (Category position 80)


Transition 1

I came out of the water in 59 minutes, noted the clock and was happy with that. I was also stoked that I was able to pull apart the wetsuit zipper without a struggle and focused on a brisk job to grab my bag and get into the transition tent. Then things slowed down. So much gear and trying to get on bib shorts and a cycling jersey over a wet and salt-water sticky body is likely to challenge even the best contortionist. Thankfully my helper volunteer assisted in getting me dressed, but it was a long and painful process which saw me in T1 for over 7 minutes! On the way to the bike I felt the need to urinate so thought better to get it out now than have to stop on the bike and made a brief portaloo visit, before hitting the road.

7:23


Bike

Psychologically I was in a good place. I felt like I'd executed a great swim, T1 was as good as it could have been with a full change and I jumped on the steed thinking I've done more riding this year than ever before and I'm in damn good form. Here is where I make the difference from last year. Navigated town and was looking forward to getting out on Ocean Drive and getting down onto the bars. The hills going out of town were easy bumps and then I hit the flat straight, got down and started churning out around 37 or 38km/hr. I'd been going for a while when I started checking my heartrate and it was right where i wanted it to be, around 150bpm. After that I really didn't bother with HR and went by feel for the rest of the race. My cadence was good in the 90s and I was passing as many people as were passing me, so happy days.



Andy came past me flying about halfway to the turnaround. I picked up a bit and stuck with him until about halfway down the Ghost Road. Just before the Ghost Road turnoff I also passed Angus. I thought of trying to stay with Andrew, but told myself, just ride solid. There's no need to push too hard in the first 30km and blow your race, just ride your own pace. So I did. The ghost road undulations were great, I powered up all the hills and passed loads of people, then came back into town strong. Angus passed my back just after the Matthew Flinders hill. I hit the end of the first lap and noticed I'd done 1:50. A bit of quick math and I realised if I could keep the pace on the next two laps I would finish the ride in 5:30. Highly unlikely, but something to aim for. I just have to ride solid. Ride solid. That became my mantra.

Lap 2
Uneventful. Rode out about the same pace, high 30s. Ghost road was a bit harder, but then the way back started to bite. The wind had picked up and I was lucky to keep going at 30 to 32km/hr, even that was a struggle. I kept in good spirits and made sure I was getting my hydration and nutrition right. I definitely wanted to avoid overdoing the water, but by the same token it was getting bloody hot and I didn't want to dehydrate either. I made an effort to drink regularly, but small amounts. I was going more by feel than anything else, but every now and then I'd check in at how long it had been between bottles. I mainly drank water, but had a couple of bottles of gatorade and as my legs started to tire at the end of Lap 2 I had a sudden concern that I wasn't adequately replacing sodium as I felt a similar leg heaviness as I had last year. I took a salt tablet, but a bit of reflection made me realise that I hadn't needed to pee at all on the bike so far, so I can't have been over-hydrating. I was also managing to clear my stomach of all the food I was eating, so I wasn't under-hydrating either. Good to go.

Lap 2 finished and I'd dropped just over 5 minutes. About 1:55. That's ok, if I can maintain that pace I'll do the bike in 5:40. Even if I drop another 5 mins it'll be 5:45 - still an awesome time for me.



Lap 3
Wheels beginning to come off. Riding out of town the hills bit a little harder than the first two times. I repeated my mantra of "ride solid, ride solid", gritted my teeth and tried to push just that little bit harder. By this stage my legs were getting tired, standing on the hills was instantly painful and my average speed was dropping. I was getting passed on a more sporadic basis, but I wasn't really passing anyone else. Ocean drive where I wanted to be back up at 38km/hr, no matter how hard I tried I could barely get faster than 33km/hr. I knew my time for this lap was going to be a bit of a blow-out, I just had to reign it in. I became diligent about eating and drinking regularly. I ate every 20 minutes on the whole ride. Alternating solids (a whole banana, half a powerbar) with liquids (a mouthful of superstrong Perpetuum, chased down with water). I tried to use one gear easier than I thought I should and attempted to spin a bit more to save my legs. I was conscious that not only did I not want my time on the bike to be too slow, but I also was concerned about the pain every time I stood up and what that would mean for my run legs.

On the flat I had some guy pass me, then immediately drop his speed by 5km/hr. Super frustrating as I was fighting to keep a rhythm and a good average speed, and now I didn't want to blow up trying to pass him back, but I also didn't want to maintain a speed that much slower. But I didn't want to get pinged for drafting either, so I thought "bugger it, I'll ride solidly at my pace. I won't be on his arse, but I won't drop all the way back" Funnily enough this was the one point in the race where the TOs rode up beside me and had a word.

"Sit up mate. Now you're not riding close enough to the guy in front to get any significant advantage. But you're definitely inside the 7 metres. Just drop back another metre and keep that distance."

Of course I was thinking "Bloody hell, that prick just rushed past me then dropped his speed and I'm getting pinged! This is bullsh*t!" But I still had enough presence of mind to realise that there's absolutely no point arguing with TOs, and ultimately he was right. I didn't want a penalty so I just nodded and agreed and said no worries, will do. By this time the guy was another metre or so in front, so the TO rode off and I settled back into position to keep grinding it out.

The ghost road. Phew, I was cracking. The hills here were hurting, my speed was rubbish. The only consolation was that every metre travelled forward was a metre I wouldn't have to repeat again. Turn around, ride back. Turn onto Ocean Drive. Then things got really bad.


That last 20 odd km back to town was a nightmare. The hottest part of the day. My legs were shattered. And the wind had seriously picked up and was blowing right in my face. I was giving it my all and felt like I was barely moving. My speedo seemed to be counting down, I couldn't for the life of me get it to maintain in the 30s. It hovered around 27km/hr. Then I couldn't hold that and it went down to 22. At one point it hit 18km/hr and I started to despair. But I got it back to the low 20s and grumbled softly to myself. This was the point where I started to get passed by people who were either 20 years older than me, 40 kilos heavier, or both. That's never good for your confidence. The tea-tree forests finally came and I almost cried with joy, knowing the golf course and the camels were just around the the corner, then it wasn't long into town.

The steep rise on Matthew Flinders Drive was a bit cruel the third time round, but not terrible. Although after the main hill, when you turn right then go back up that short steep 10 metre long pinch to the top, there was a girl in front of me in pink who couldn't maintain her pedalling, suddenly stopped dead in the middle of the road just before the crest and toppled over to the right. She was ok, spectators went to help her up and I called "rider down" and I weaved to the right to get round her, almost going over myself.

Strangely the undulations back into town were ok, I think just changing up the muscles constantly gave them a break. I was looking forward to getting off the bike and seeing whether I would be able to run at all this year. Even with such a bugger of a 3rd lap, I was still stoked that I was going much better than last year and feeling much stronger. I was close to 6 hours on the bike and tried desperately to pick it up so I would make it back within the 5s. I didn't quite make it, but went damn close by my bike computer - in fact exactly 6 hours on the dot. A bit longer on the official time strangely. Ah well, it was run time!

Total ride time - 6:06:16 (Category position 122)

Total time on the clock as I crossed the bike finish - 7:05.



Transition 2

Run into the change tent. Yes, run. "Ok my legs are still working" was going through my head. I needed to check that.

Time for another complete change of outfit. This one wasn't overly long, and once again I needed to hit the portaloo. I was stoked that I hadn't had to stop the bike to pee at all, but it was lurking for most of the third lap so I got it out and then lathered on the sunscreen because I could feel the burn. Pounded a cup of gatorade and gave my legs a whirl.

T2 - 5:09


Run

Not bad. Not great, but not bad. I remembered reading something about trying to set your marathon pace as soon as you can, because if you start slow, you'll only slow down further as the race goes on. So I whipped my legs into a frenzy trying to get a fast cadence going and a reasonable pace.

The run is 3 laps of 14km each. Out 3.5km to Settlement Point then back past the start, out another 3.5km to just before Flynns Beach and return. Halfway to the Settlement Point for the first time I realised I needed to evacuate all that solid food I'd eaten on the bike. Sooner rather than later! This was what I expected and I managed to run, clenched-cheeked, to the turnaround portaloos where I dropped a couple of minute and a couple of kilos. Coming back I had a guy come past me moving at a good clip and I thought "Here's a pace I can hang onto" so I did. We ran side by side until just before the transition area where I thought this is a bit too much for me and I'm not even halfway done the first lap. Let him go.

It happened with a couple of other guys after that. Some passed me. Some I hooked onto and used as a windbreak, before passing and not seeing again. Pace was good. did the first last in just under 1:15.



Lap 2
The heat was rough. I poured full cups of water and ice over my head at every aid station. My shoes got soaked and my big toes started to hurt. My stomach did not want food. But I knew I had to keep getting calories in. I'd been carrying a bag of 6 fresh dates the whole first lap and been forcing them in, but now I threw the last 2 away and thought I'll just try eating whatever I can and see what my body accepts. I tried half a cookie - big mistake. For the next half hour I just felt absolutely dreadful. Thankfully I drank more water and flushed it away, but I needed to find a food I could stomach.

I started having vegemite on a stick every aid station to get the taste of salt into my mouth after all the sugary crap I'd been forcing in. I also took another salt tablet (I probably only had 3 or 4 in the whole race) because i figured it was hot and I'd sweated a lot of sodium, plus I was getting tired of drinking gatorade.

I peed again at Settlement Point. I walked every aid station and made sure to drench myself and treat the place like a smorgasbord until I found something I could stomach. Rockmelon was good. Orange didn't scratch the itch. Jelly beans worked. I had one solitary gel, tropical fruit, which I was incredibly surprised to get down ok because I typically loathe them, but didn't care to repeat the experience. I figured at this stage I had enough in my that the odd jelly bean and rockmelon slice would see me through.

My pace didn't drop too much on lap two, but I did feel at my worst. There was just so long still to go and I wasn't feeling happy running at the pace I was. Not that it was fast, but it felt painful. I thought about stopping a number of times, but why would I? There were plenty of people around me but I was in no mood to chat to people.

Coming back down the hill into town for the end of the lap was nice. I was feeling a bit better, the day was starting to cool down and I knew I didn't have too long left to do. The only question was how hard would the last lap be?

1:22 for the second lap. Happy with that.

>

Lap 3
The end was in sight. Once again I knew that every step was one I wouldn't have to travel again. I stopped worrying about eating so much, I still walked and grazed through the aid stations, but didn't try to force it in. I peed again and thought I can stop drinking so much too, still sip, but I'm hydrated enough to finish. My pace was getting hard to maintain. My legs weren't sore, just wouldn't go any faster. So I thought "Focus on cadence, keep the turnover high and the steps light". I decided I would run to the end and not walk any of the hills. So I didn't, even the last couple of big hills out of town I just turned over the legs and tried to float up them. By this stage I was as happy as could be. Especially after passing the finish for the last time. My spirits were through the roof, I was smiling goofily and high-fiving spectators, yelling encouragement at other competitors and just reveling in the joy of it all. I honestly ran up the final hill, knowing it was the final hill, in a triumphant haze, then cruised down for the last 2 kms of flat running to the finish. No need to go crazy, just keep the pace as high as I reasonably could and enjoy every moment. And I did.

Last lap in 1:28.

Total run time 4:10:32 (category place 62)



The Finish

Coming down that finish chute in bright daylight, hand-slapping the announcer when he called out "Michael Race - YOU are an IRONMAN!" and raising my arms in triumph as I crossed the line. It was all so sweet, you couldn't wipe the smile off my face. It wasn't until the catchers draped a towel around my shoulders and started to lead me away that I turned and checked the time.

Total race time - 11:16:10
Category Place 80





Then it was off to the recovery tent for a double-teamed massage by two lovely volunteers, then two big plates of food, chatting with mates, putting all my gear in the car and back for a third plate of food!

Then watching the finishers for another couple of hours, first with Andy and his family, then with Paul, Rach and Sam. It was so great to see people crying with joy, hugging their families, dancing, laughing, stumbling, sprinting down that blue carpet. I saw a whole bunch of people I knew, even more that I recognised and even Tony Abbott.

It was an incredible experience, the ironman experience that I'd really wanted. It couldn't have been more perfect and I reveled in it. The biggest thing for me was that I had a race result that truly reflected all the hard work of training that I'd put in. My unfinished business with ironman was now complete, I was satisfied.

Could I have gone faster? Well if I'd worn a tri suit I wouldn't have spent 12 minutes in transition. If I had a tri bike instead of a roadie with clip-ons... If I had done more strength training pushing a big gear on the flats.... If if if if if. I'm working on pushing those thoughts aside. I am truly happy with the result and with the race as a whole.

Then I caught myself saying to people, "Next year, I'm going to blah blah blah...." Next year??? Oh dear.