Ironman NZ 2018 – the bike

27 03 2018

As I powered up the Napier Road hill past the Hilton, a familiar voice gave me some words of encouragement as one of my training buddies cycled past. She made the hill look effortless but I knew she was a stronger rider anyway. I sent her on her way with some equally encouraging words.

Feeling so good after the swim, and with perfect weather conditions in my favour, I decided to throw caution to the non-existent wind and push the bike a little harder than I intended. I wasn’t focused on a time goal but I wanted my race to unfold naturally and the weather was a big part of that.

It was a conscious decision to kind of throw my planned pacing out of the window. But I weighed up factors like how I felt after the swim, the weather and also some of my coach’s words about not being afraid to challenge myself.

So I decided what the hell.  Let’s see what I can do.

The first lap felt like a breeze. I got passed lots but I put that down to having an amazing swim. It doesn’t mean I wasn’t disappointed with the amount of people who actually passed me, but I was doing the best I could at that time. And that’s all you can ask for.

The lack of wind was refreshing and filled me with confidence.

I spent a lot of the ride back to Taupo looking out for my hubby (as well as other squad mates) who was doing the 70.3. I knew he’d be a fair way behind due to my super fast swim. I was out of the water before he started.

But I was just desperate to see him to know he was safely out of the water himself. Eventually I spotted him and we exchanged hand gestures to say we were both OK. I didn’t know at the time but he was desperate for a pee but didn’t want to stop for one until he’d seen me. He was (rightly) worried that if I didn’t see him I would panic a little and that might affect my own race.

On the fast descent from Taupo Motorsport Park I had a few surprising gusts from the side that picked up my race wheels and pushed me sideways. It made me wonder what was in store for lap two if the wind had picked up any.

Before I knew it I was back in Taupo and turning left for the second lap. At the top of the Napier Road hill was the special needs stop. I knew coach would be there but I was mostly looking forward to my treat – a peanut butter sandwich! Real food!

I swapped my Perpetuem drink bottle for the frozen one I’d put in my bag and off I went. The photo a squad mate captured as I set off shows my complete joy at getting that sandwich!

FB_IMG_1520146486269

As I set off, coach ran alongside briefly and asked how I was doing. I said I was good, and he replied with “you’re playing it really well”. After leaving him I glanced at my watch for the first time I remember during the ride. It said 3 hours 10 mins. I was over half way already. I’d been hoping for around 6 hours 30 in total so I knew I was on track, allowing myself some contingency for fading on that second lap if I’d gone too hard.

Heading back out to Reporoa for the second time the wind I’d experienced on the descent into Taupo was most definitely there. It wasn’t as strong as last year and it was also in the opposite direction. So rather than being an uphill headwind, at least this time we had more gravity on our side! And I took a lot of comfort in the fact that when I turned at Reporoa again, at least I’d have a tailwind home.

I wasn’t sure if I’d see hubby again or if we’d cross at a point where the outbound bike course takes a detour. But as luck would have it, he was on the final uphill stretch to the Motorsport Park as I was whizzing down it. Another exchange of hand gestures plus shouts of “love you”. I was relieved he was nearly there.

After a little bit of battling the wind, the turn loomed, as did that second armband to show I’d done the full course. The ride back felt pretty uneventful and I don’t actually recall most of it.

But I do know I didn’t have a “chat” with a technical official this time!

I was mostly hoping to just get through the ride unscathed and without any mechanical issues. It’s the one thing I’m paranoid about.

This was a fear reinforced as I approached the final climb to the Motorsport Park again and spotted my squad buddy who’d passed me earlier. She was off her bike on the side of the road with a mechanic helping her. As I passed I kept quiet, not wanting to distract her any more than I knew she already would be. It looked like they were just finishing so I expected to see her again very soon.

It wasn’t actually very long before I saw her as she drew up alongside me on that final hill to the Motorsport Park and muttered something I can’t remember. But I could tell from her tone she was pissed off. As she sailed past me I shouted after her “It’s happened now. Forget about it and move on”. They felt like harsh words but I also felt she needed it (afterwards she confirmed she needed a little kick up the arse so she appreciated it).

Heading back towards Taupo I felt relief flooding through me once again as the potential for my own mechanical issues to impact my race were almost gone. And I was close enough for it not to matter any more.

Hitting the intersection with Tongariro Street I swooped right this time to head towards transition for the second and last time. The legs felt a little wobbly as I got off the bike and handed it off to a volunteer. My bag was up this time and I grabbed it and raced to another waiting volunteer in the tent.

I realised I hadn’t stopped my watch on entering T2. I’d looked at my watch once during that last leg back into Taupo, a little before seeing my friend. At the time my watch had said 5 hours 48 mins. I’d tried to estimate how long it would take me to get back to transition and reckoned on about 40 minutes. That was good.

No. It was great. 6 hours 30 was my goal so I was on track for that. Turns out my estimations were a little off. When I lapped my watch finally in T2, it said 6 hours 19 minutes. I was stunned. And equally stoked. I had smashed this goal too. And I’d also beaten my coach’s predictions for the bike as well.

We set about going through my bag to work out what I needed, at which point I had other volunteers raced up asking me questions like “Sun screen?” “Vaseline” and other things. I was overwhelmed. I jokingly made the point that I wasn’t used to this kind of service and I think they got the hint that I needed a little space and time. Vaseline was left with me. Then I sought sun screen again before leaving the tent.

At a quick pit stop at the loo before hitting the run, I checked my face in the mirror. I knew the sun screen on course has a tendency to just cover you in white and it didn’t ‘disappoint’. I wiped some off then headed out.

There was only 42.2 kms between me and another Ironman finish.

Easy right?

Advertisements




Getting ready for round 2

14 03 2018

Arriving in Taupo one year on, the same feelings of anticipation and excitement crept up. There were butterflies, but a good kind.

This was familiar territory, one I’d conquered before.

OMNZ 2

The swim buoys were out, although not as far into the lake. A revised swim course would see us actually swim into the mouth of the Waikato River, meaning that we’d swim a shortened distance in the lake.

This year I arrived a day later. We’d driven a couple of hours north to stay with a friend before heading to Taupo early on the Thursday morning. I knew there was a bit for me to do on arrival, most importantly I had to check in. But I didn’t feel the need to be up there on the Wednesday. I’d get everything done.

At the registration tent a queue had formed well into Taupo Domain but rather than come back later, I chose to line up with the rest. Get it over and done with then I could relax. We probably waited for an hour before fronting up to the same volunteer who had checked me in last year! I recognised her straight away. She was the one who’d used a faux “Manchestoh” accent on me. Unsurprisingly her recollection of me was not the same.

Wristband applied like a home detention ankle bracelet, I was now committed.

29101172_10155116774151150_6689224891356413952_o

One thing I was dreading was the weigh in. I don’t weight myself. It’s not a relevant measure to me. I’d much rather benchmark myself against how my clothes feel or how I look in the mirror. But I had to be weighed.

I didn’t feel thinner than last year. But I weighed in 2kgs lighter. Happy days! Less weight to lug around those 180kms on the bike.

I promptly went and ate a bacon butty to celebrate.

We were also asked to show where we came from on a world map. This was to represent to global nature of Ironman New Zealand. More than half the field had come from overseas to take on the challenge. Kiwis were the minority. I decided to show both places I consider home – my Instagram post said “I’m from here and here”. British pro racer Laura Siddall responded saying she’d done the same thing!

29028133_10155116539836150_2403862383475818496_o

Once we’d settled into our bach I went about checking out the stash in the race pack. There wasn’t much worthy of note. The usual sachet of crap Invisible Zinc sun cream (more to come on that) and a mysterious envelope addressed to “Ironman Athlete”.

Inside I found a letter from Libby, from Taupo Intermediate School who said it must take a lot of grit and courage to do Ironman and gave me some motivational words for my race.

It was a touching thought, invoking more emotions at an already emotionally charged time.

29101696_10155116539946150_4628573069626048512_o

A bit of prep followed, like packing transition bags and putting race stickers in all the relevant places. And before I knew it, it was time to head out to the Welcome function. It was great to catch up with my fellow squaddies, most of whom were attempting their first IM. Surprisingly the nerves were non-existant. There was a definite buzz around the table.

Plans were made to meet for our final swim before game day. A beautiful morning dawned with a flat calm lake to greet us. Despite having read the (favourable) weather forecasts for race day, part of me couldn’t help be cynical after our experience last year. Perfect conditions the day before and hideous winds on the day.

But that was last year. This was a whole new opportunity. The main thing was just getting the last little bit of training done. It was my first open water swim in fresh water this season. And it was so refreshing after so many Wellington harbour swims!

29101545_10155116539496150_3206041955154788352_n

I headed back to the bach to complete a short bike and run. While on my ride, my rear gears were playing up. I’d had my bike serviced before I put my race wheels on (rookie error). So while the rear cassette on my race wheel is the same size as my normal wheel, it was obviously a little out.

Hubby and I worked out some logistics of taking my bike to the on site bike mechanics for a quick tune while he checked in for his race – the 70.3. I could then leave it there while we got lunch and went back to the house to get his bike.

Lunch wasn’t exactly what you would call “ideal” pre-race nutrition…but it was damn good (Thanks Pauly’s Diner!). I probably started Ironman the same weight I was last year after the post-weigh in feeds.

We both had to rack our bikes ready for the next day, and I had to drop off my transition bags. I make lists for England. And I followed my lists, ticking all my items off as I packed them. But once I dropped my bags off I started to have panics. I’d only photographed the contents of my run bag so started to panic that I’d forgotten something out of my bike bag. But really I knew it was 99.9% unlikely because of my lists! People (hubby included) laugh at my super organised race plan – but it’s a confidence builder/stress reliever for me.

Back at the house and the final few race pre activities got completed as I ticked more things off my list. Watch on charge. Dinner eaten. Race number tattoos applied.

A million alarms set.

29101014_10155116539811150_291641348983881728_o

All that was left to do was get some sleep….





Ironman Race Day: the run

25 03 2017

It was great to be off the bike.

Whilst I wasn’t feeling too bad in the body, it was still seven hours predominantly in the same position. So the change of posture and muscles being used was welcome relief.

As I headed out of transition, my coach and a couple of supporters were directly ahead of the exit path. As I ran straight towards them I waved to ensure they saw me. Their positivity made me feel great.

They were just as chuffed as I was to see me running.

Well, I say I was running. It was more like jogging. But it was all forward momentum and that’s the only thing you need to achieve when it comes to the Ironman marathon.

It may sound obnoxious or arrogant to say I set off on my first ever marathon knowing it wasn’t if, but when I was going to finish. Even if I had to walk most of it, I was confident I had enough time to do that. As long as the body held out.

Just as I started on that first lap, I saw the women’s pro race winner, Jocelyn McCauley, heading towards the red carpet. I’d made it onto the run course with the pros (although they were several hours ahead of me!). It was a surprise not to see Meredith Kessler out front but great to have a new winner too.

Heading out onto Lake Terrace, I was passing other runners heading back towards the turn or finish point, depending on the number of wristbands they’d collected along the way. I remember feeling a bit dismayed at the sheer number of people who were heading to the finish already. Just like McCauley.

I was only just starting. Was I really that slow?

But I gave myself a bit of a slap. Did it even matter? Of course it bloody well didn’t. I was out on the Ironman run. I was doing it.

I was going to be an Ironman. Of that I was sure.

The sun was strong, even at 4pm, making that first lap pretty warm. My race plan was exactly what I’d practiced in training. At a minimum I’d have walk breaks for 1 minute every 15 minutes. In addition, I’d walk all of the aid stations to eat and drink.

By this stage I was totally over sweet. All that’s available on the bike is sugary in the form of gels, energy bars and even Perpetuem. The most savoury thing were bananas. Which is why my emergency PB sarnie on the bike was the bomb!

But come the first run aid station, I wanted salt. Luckily there’s more choice at this stage and a big bowl of pretzels loomed in front of me. I grabbed a handful and washed them down with a big gob full of water to soften them and make them easier to eat.

Along the entire 14km lap there’s supporters lining the streets cheering your every step. Thousands of people you’ll never know are literally cheering your name and willing you to get ever closer to that red carpet.

It’s like a new brand of nutrition. Their excitement and energy feeds you and you want to do it for them as much as yourself. The crowds are thronging at the far end of the run around the residential Wharewaka area creating a party-like atmosphere. It’s here that you pick up each of your lap wristbands to identify you’ve done each of the three laps.

Heading back towards town I knew I’d pass a bunch of our squad supporters on the waterside walkway where they’d rented a bach. They’d also teased us that they’d created a sign for each of us. I was desperate to see them to see what they’d done.

They hadn’t lied.

It was so easy to spot their house due to the line of home made painted signs lining the path! I was prepared for some piss taking but my sign was one of genuine encouragement.

The cheering squad was also out in force, spurring me on, one step at a time.

I’d deliberately turned off the auto lap function on my Garmin. This function beeps every km to show you how quickly you did it. I didn’t want to look at my watch 42 times. I just wanted to concentrate on getting to the next aid station. I’ve had this function on for the two half ironmans I’ve done and I find it distracts you and can make you stressed as, usually, your pace begins to slow as the race goes on.

I’m quite pleased to say I didn’t obsess about my pace or time at all during the day. I barely looked at my watch. It was truly a day that was ruled by my head and my body. And my heart. And not by any data.

It was truly refreshing.

At each aid station I just took what I feel like. Mostly sticking to crisps (chippies) and water or Nuun, with a Clif Shot Blok thrown in for good measure. Just like on the bike, there’s a special needs bag available as a contingency. All I’d put in here was a Wiggle gel (which I much prefer to the Clif ones on course) , some Panadol (purely preventative) and a No Doz. I’d used these caffeine tablets in training on the bike, and I’d taken one on course on the day. But I’d never used it on a run.

It was potentially a fatal error to try this out on race day, breaking the number one rule.

A few kms down the road, just before reaching our supporter house again, a debilitating stabbing cramp stopped me in my tracks. Just like it had at the end of my first half ironman.

At the time I didn’t know what had caused it. But I knew I would have to allow myself time to recover. This meant walking more because it hurt too much to run too much. I knew I’d have to deal with it.

But that’s a big part of what Ironman is.

For most people it’s not always about a time, but it’s about dealing with whatever the day throws at you and moving on.

It’s about finishing.

As I made the turnaround in town to start my last lap, I knew that the next time I’d see that piece of road, I wouldn’t be turning round. I’d be heading for the finish chute.

There was only 14 and a bit kms between me and Mike Reilly saying those famous words.

The last lap is a bit of a blur really. Well, the whole damn run is to be fair!

To cope with the cramp, I stuck to water and very little food. I may have down the odd small glass of Coke to give me some energy to make it round.

There was a super friendly volunteer at Rainbow Point and on the second lap he’d made some encouraging comment about going and getting him the next coloured wristband! He made me smile with his enthusiasm and I felt special for that fleeting moment. The fact that he probably used the same line on virtually every runner was irrelevant to me at that moment.

On this last lap he feigned dismay as he spotted the two wristbands and knew I was heading for my third, and final one. “Oh no, you’re leaving me!” he cried out. Boy did he do an amazing job of making you feel great when you really needed it!

At the aid station at the far end, I got handed a glow stick. I’d barely noticed the fading light and didn’t realise just how dark it was going to be by the time I finished.

Then I rounded the corner and ran through the lane for my last wristband. I remember feeling ecstatic at getting that furry piece of fabric wrapped around my wrist. I had just over 6kms left. And most of it was downhill.

On my way back towards town, strangers were staring hard in the dark to see how many wristbands I’d collected. You could see they wanted to say the right thing as there’s nothing worse than telling someone they’re nearly done when they’ve got another lap to do.

When they made out I had all three, the elation on their faces, and in their voices, almost matched mine. I will admit to having to choke back a few tears along the way.

Then suddenly, the lights of Taupo beckoned. They were within reach. My watch had shown a “low battery” warning and I wasn’t sure if it would make it to the finish line. You know the phrase…

Garmin data or it didn’t happen.

So I prayed it survived.

My pace quickened as I counted down the kms. I was playing leap frog with another girl who was taking more walk breaks than me but running faster when she did. As we approached the town centre, I seemed to break away from her and create some distance. Without anyone ahead of me, I was hoping to have the finish chute to myself.

Yes, that’s a little bit selfish!

As I headed towards the finish line, I had no idea what my total time was. With the conditions being as challenging as they were, I’d barely looked at my watch all day. It was great because it meant I wasn’t putting pressure on myself, and I also wasn’t playing any mind games.

Before the day, I’d said I’d be happy with anything under 14 hours. I’d tried to work out my timings while I was running, and I had a very rough idea, but it was all about the finish. not the time. So when I entered the finish chute and saw 13:50 up there, I was stoked!

I’d instructed hubby where to stand so I could give him a huge hug before I crossed the line. I wanted to share it with him and the time didn’t matter. He held me longer than I expected as the girl I’d been leap frogging entered the finish chute. He also wanted me to have the finish line to myself.

When she was far enough in front he let go and I headed down that red carpet.

Then she stopped at her supporters for some high fives before pulling out straight in front of me again. So much for having the finish line to myself!

I’d remembered a conversation the previous year about listening out for the song that’s playing as you finish. It was a great reminder to be mindful in those last few moments. Jamiroquai “A Little L” was playing and will now forever be known as my Ironman song.

Then I heard my name being called. One of our bestest squad supporters was right by the finish line.

To show her my appreciation, I ran over and gave her the biggest high five. It was a great moment and was captured perfectly by the event photographers.

Then I heard it. Mike Reilly’s infamous tones. “Annalie Brown. Wellington. You’re an Ironman Annalie. Yes sir.”

There’s no taking that title away from me now.

My official time is 13 hours 51 minutes and 14 seconds. But I don’t really care.

206_m-100754605-DIGITAL_HIGHRES-1679_065229-6403765

I’m an Ironman. And that’s all that counts.

(And I’ve got the Garmin data to prove it).





Ironman Race Day: the bike

13 03 2017

One down. Two to go.

As I mentioned in my last post about the swim, the bike leg was probably the one I feared the most. Not because don’t like the bike. I’ve grown to really love cycling since I started playing this game.

The bike is the Ironman element with the most variables. In my mind, it’s the one where there’s a lot more beyond your control.

In the swim and run, essentially it’s you and the elements. As we already know, the Ironman New Zealand swim on this day was one to be reckoned with. But all you’ve got is how you deal with it.

On the bike, there’s so much more that you *potentially* have to deal with.

The weather. The bike. The road. Other vehicles. Other cyclists.

And it’s the biggest portion of your whole day, leaving it wide open to being the section that makes or breaks it.

Not only are there the elements outside your control, there’s a lot within your control that can make or break it too.

Pace. Nutrition. Concentration.

My race plan called for an easy first lap of the two-lap ride. And knowing that I’d face approximately 90kms of headwind, I knew I had to save my legs for the two return sections back towards Taupo.

This meant I had to let myself be overtaken on the long slog out of town at the start of the ride. I had to resist the urge to chase down the riders flying past me. This wasn’t a race against them.

It was a race against me.

My bike leg didn’t get off to a great start. Coming out of T1, other athletes were stopping right on the mount line to get on their bikes, blocking the whole road off to those of us behind. I had to yell “move forward” a few times to get some space to  move through the chaos.

When I clipped in and tried to set off, I somehow managed to ride straight into the barrier on the side of the road. It wasn’t major but it did mean resetting myself and trying not to rush as much.

Then when I was heading down Lake Terrace I could hear a rather loud and obnoxious voice behind me belonging to a male competitor yelling at the girl behind me that she was “rocking the tartan”. As he drew alongside me he started drifting sideways straight towards me, heading for a direct side swipe if he didn’t stop. Loudly I yelled “Oi, watch it mate” which drew no recognition from him as he carried on in his own obnoxious world (Waitakere Tri Club if you’re reading this, you might know which member I’m talking about). His obnoxiousness was confirmed a few minutes later as we headed past the Taupo Hilton and I could once again hear him yelling about it’s meant to hurt.

Not that early on it isn’t mate.

Anyway, I left him to his own devices and focused on my own race.

At the first aid station I’d intended to grab a bottle of Nuun to add to my resources. A combination of the volunteers not being quite with it, and me riding a touch too fast meant that didn’t happen. I didn’t let it phase me though as I had a bottle of Perpetuem and half a bottle of water already on my bike so I knew I’d be fine until the next aid station 15kms away.

I had no idea where anyone else from my squad was so wasn’t sure if or when I’d see them at all. Given it’s an out and back course, there was a good chance I’d get to see some, if not most of them at some point.

The first leg out to Reporoa was a breeze. We had the wind on our tail and it’s mostly downhill. It was pretty uneventful and sped by quickly. I only saw one of my squaddies already heading back so when I reached the turn I wanted to keep a keen eye out for the others.

Immediately after the turn I saw one of them, and then gradually I spotted more going past. Seeing as you’re out there for such a long time, with very little to occupy your mind, you have to force it to do things to prevent boredom and keep alert. Spot the Squaddie was one way I did this.

One of my squad besties hasn’t had the best experiences in open water in the past so I was desperate to see if she’d made it. It wasn’t until she was pretty much level with me going in the other direction that I spotted her and a huge sense of relief came over me. And not only that she did it in a great time. I could tell from how close she was to me.

I saw other squaddies further behind and was a little surprised. I’d expected them to be ahead of me. But then the swim had been a shocker so I was just relieved to see they’d made it out. And anyway, they were all better than me on the bike so I was expecting them to pass me at some point.

The turn itself brought the immediate realisation of the headwind. We knew it was going to be there. But we hadn’t quite realised how much.

On the way out I’d watched the pros heading back in the other direction and thought they looked like they were battling and grinding the gears a little too much for my liking. I wondered if it was an illusion.

It wasn’t. It was real alright.

For 45kms we had to slog back towards Taupo, mostly on an incline, then turn round and do it all again.

It was one of those times that training in “Windy Wellington” paid off. It was just like any other training day this summer. So that’s how I thought of it.

Yes it was hard. But I fought the urge to look at my pace, knowing it would dishearten me and mess with my head.

Eventually the Motorsport Park loomed which signalled the top of the incline, and what I thought would be an easy 6km spin downhill into town.

Except it wasn’t. It was one of those times when you had to pedal downhill because the headwind is that strong it might stop you if you didn’t.

Coming down towards the town I was trying to keep positive about going out for lap 2. One of my squaddies shot past me giving me words of encouragement and I silently wished him luck, slightly jealous of his strength and pace at that point. But I was upbeat.

Turning round for lap 2 would mean I’d get around 40kms of “recovery” with the downhill tailwind. It was a great way to think about it.

Although when I saw some of our supporters and them coach at the special needs stop, I did have a little moan about the wind. Both of them gave me a swift kick up the arse that basically can be summarised as “suck it up buttercup”. I couldn’t do anything about it, so it was down to how I dealt with it.

After topping up my Perpetuem and grabbing my emergency peanut butter sandwich (for real!) I carried on my merry way. I knew I was unlikely to beat my goal time of 7 hours but I was happy just to be taking part. It was one of those moments I relished having the ability to be out there. I was determined.

The same games occupied my brain for the outbound leg, but also one of pacing myself. I knew the last leg would be hard again with the headwind, and I was conscious of needing something left for the run.

At one such point I was slowly gaining on another rider. I absent-mindedly strayed into his “draft zone” (you can’t ride within 12 metres of the rider in front of you as you’re deemed to be benefitting from their slipstream). I was debating whether to try and overtake him or whether I should save my legs. I wasn’t sure how hard I’d need to go to get past as he was only marginally slower than I was.

At this point one of the event Technical Officials (TO) rode up alongside me on a motorbike and sternly asked if I was going to overtake or fall back. Forcing me to make a decision I said I would fall back. He told me to make the decision sooner as I only had 25 seconds to overtake once I got into the draft zone. He said I was two seconds away from getting a penalty (of 5 minutes).

It’s one of those things that’s quite marginal. Trying to work out what 12 metres looks like, and how long you’ve been there when time seems to be in some kind of strange continuum, is pretty hard. I wasn’t right on the tail of the guy in front, but I probably was in his draft zone. How long I’d been there is a question I have no concept of. Time just seemed irrelevant.

But the experience forced me to think about my strategy. I decided I would pass anyone I approached on that outbound leg to make the most of the tailwind. When I caught up with the original rider I’d been caught behind, I put the hammer down to overtake. Same with another guy I approached before the turn.

When we got to Reporoa this time I collected my second armband to indicate I’d done the full course. This time around the headwind seemed to have subsided a little. It was still there, but not as strong or as in your face. This buoyed me and I was looking forward to getting the last 45kms done.

I was on the home stretch. Now just to hope there were no mechanicals on the way back.

I’d had a few punctures in training so was desperately hoping I’d used them all up and was owed a puncture-free ride. Every km closer meant another km nearer to having an event-free ride.

My coach’s guide to Ironman, which is very thorough by the way, explained that, if you followed his advice and took it easy early on (i.e. letting yourself be overtaken and not chasing people) then you’d start to pass them all on this leg. And how true it was. I passed quite a few riders who were struggling with the wind and maintaining the stamina the thought they’d still have. Their gas tanks were running low.

But I felt good. My tank still had some gas in it.

As the long 10km climb loomed, the headwind pick up again, but I was still going strong. And before I knew it the Motorsport Park was in sight again. The sense of relief was overwhelming. This really was the home straight.

I turned into the downhill but still needed to pedal more than I would have liked. I tried to make the gears easier than normal to get my legs turning at a higher cadence in readiness for the run.

Along Centennial Highway, a few spectators were dotted around cheering us on and reminding us we were nearly there. Even my supporters had popped up the road to this point and they almost missed me! If I hadn’t spotted them and started waving!

Turning into Spa Road I knew I was home and dry. If something went wrong I could carry the god damn bike to transition! But it didn’t. I escaped the bike unscathed after my early close calls.

As I got off my bike and raced towards transition I spotted my husband among the bike catchers (your bike is taken for you, there’s no need to rack it yourself). He ran down the hill and grabbed my bike, telling me he was so proud of me in the process, as he grabbed it and ran off with it.

I hit the lap button on my Garmin watch to end the bike time. It said 7 hours 10 minutes. Although I hadn’t got my goal time I was still pleased in those conditions. I was still surprised only one of my squaddies had passed me, but I was running my own race and knew they’d be running theirs.

This time the volunteer was waiting with my T2 bag raised. Again, I’d decorated it so I didn’t even need to read the number to check it was mine. I knew which one it was at a distance. Which was handy as a number of bags were held up close together.

wp-1489202462222.jpg

I raced into the tent and called another volunteer to help me. She started sorting my gear out and helping me undress/redress, while another ran up to me with a bottle in either hand, asking me “sun cream or Vaseline?”

I only needed sun cream. I’d regretted not getting any in T1 (not that it was offered) as my hands felt like they’d caught the sun after 7 hours in aero position!

As I went to put my shoes on I got a twinge of cramp in my left calf. I mentioned it to the volunteer who was helping and she immediately went to work on it, giving it a rub. It was like she had magic hands as it subsided quickly and I was ready to go.

As I exited the changing tent, volunteer hubby was there again with a cup of Nuun and another hug. He knew exactly what I did.

Now I was off the bike, barring a complete disaster, it wasn’t a case of if I would finish. It was now simply a case of when.

I hadn’t run further than 26kms in training, or in my life.

I was about to complete my first marathon. Ever.





Countdown to Ironman: 2 weeks to go

21 02 2017

The hay is in the barn.

That’s it. The last big week of training is in the bag.

Coach emailed us all to tell us that we won’t get any fitter or faster now. It’s all about maintaining what we’ve already got.

And let’s face it, we’ve come such a long way. Literally and metaphorically.

The training plan featured one of our favourites – two runs in a day! The first one is an hour and hilly. I had an early flight to catch so I didn’t quite do the full hour, but I did some good elevation so I was happy with my 46 minutes.

The idea is to fatigue the legs and then get some recovery during the day before heading out for a longer endurance run. I guess the goal is to build stamina by running on fatigued legs. Because let’s face it. That’s gonna be happening on the day!

Summer had arrived in Wellington when I did the morning run, and then I did my evening run in Auckland as I was up there for work. It was sod’s law that when summer arrived in Wellington, I got drenched up north. It was bucketing down! But again. You don’t know what the day will be like, so you’ve got to go out in all weather.

I also used different shoes. I’ve been mostly training in Asics Cumulus, which I used for my morning run. A couple of weeks ago when I’d done the previous 2-run-day, they’d got drenched in the morning so I had to use my trusty pair of Hoka One One Clifton 3. Man, the endurance run felt good in those! Hoka shoes aren’t for everyone, but I love running in them. So I adopted the same approach for the second 2-run-day. And it had the same effect.

The week ended with another 180km ride, an opportunity to test out the nutrition plan again. But it also gave me the chance to try out my new race wheels, ready for the day. I only went out with the back one on as the front can be a bit more fickle in wind. My training buddy described my bike as a mullet – all party at the back! But I like the way the tyres match my bike!

img_20170214_192501_026

My main source of nutrition is Perpetuem which has worked really well for me this season.

Given we’re out on course for so long, my preference is to use the nutrition available on course, mainly so I don’t have to carry it all. I’ve been using Clif Bars in training, which are handed out, so that’s another tick. But I don’t really like the Clif gels.

I recently put in an order with Wiggle so decided to get some of their gels. I used them in my first half ironman and the helped me overcome a poor nutrition decision on the day. So I knew they’d be good for me.

My plan was to alternate Perp, bars and gels, saving the gels for the latter part of the ride, and taking it all on my watch alarm every 10 minutes.

With my trusty training buddy, we headed out on a route taking us from Featherston to just beyond Eketahuna and back again. We had no idea what the elevation profile was as we were supposed to try and get similar to Taupo.

Heading out it felt like there was a bit of a headwind, but nothing shocking, just enough to keep us honest!

Our main hope was to achieve the 180kms target in 7 hours. At our recent training camp I’d managed 7 hours 13 and Christina had got just under 7. We knew it could be done.

And we rocked it!

After turning round at 90kms and 3 hours 26 minutes, we were on track. We knew the wind would be a little more behind us, but we weren’t quite sure how much climbing there would be. We’d had some rolling hills so we knew there would be some.

I also took a No Doz for the first time at the turnaround. Caffeine has a proven effect on performance so I wanted to see if it helped. I drink heaps of coffee so it wasn’t like I felt an instant rush or anything, but I felt strong and didn’t fade.

The nutrition plan seemed to be working. We were flying.

Just after we passed through Greytown there was a sign saying Featherston was only another 11kms to go. My husband then appeared. I’d texted earlier to ask him to bring a spare inner tube and CO2 gas as I’d used up mine within an hour of the start after riding over a piece of glass. We were almost done, but I appreciated the effort and it gave me a little more peace of mind.

He mentioned he thought we’d have been pretty much done by then. But I looked at my watch – we were at 6 hours and 2 minutes with 10kms left to go. That was bloody good going!

I finished in 6 hours 21 minutes riding time. Not including a couple of toilet and water stops. On the day there won’t be a need to stop for water as that will all be on course. But I don’t actually intend to pee on the bike! I know some do, but it’s not my thing! Plus stopping for toilet breaks will give me the chance to stretch a little.

20170221_114001

We didn’t quite achieve the same elevation as we will at Ironman, but the terrain wasn’t dissimilar. So it was a pretty good simulation in all.

Even after a hefty week of training, the ride felt great. It was a huge confidence boost as we head into the taper.

Bring it on Ironman. I’m ready for you!

Stats this week

Swim distance: 5903m

Bike distance: 242kms

Run distance: 37.4kms

Total duration: 17 hours 16 minutes





Countdown to Ironman: 6 weeks to go

25 01 2017

Practice makes perfect.

Didn’t your mum always tell you that?

Nothing is truer in endurance triathlon.

I liken this sport to a jigsaw puzzle. You’re trying to create a complete picture that is your race. Only there are several different pieces that might fit into a particular space and you have to try a few, or maybe all of them, until you find the one that fits.

Those pieces are things like pacing, nutrition, processes, clothing, gear, and even things like when and where to apply Vaseline (so other members of my training squad told me).

And there’s no other way to figure this lot out than to practice. In a realistic situation.

Bring on Ironman training camp in Taupo.

This weekend saw us basically complete about 80-90% of the course – not on one day – we’ll save that pleasure for race day.

Normally the camp schedule sees you complete one Ironman distance (apart from the full run) on each day. So swim 3.8kms in the Lake on the Saturday, backed up with a shorter bike. Then complete the full 180km bike course on the Sunday, backed up with a short run off the bike to test the legs. Then a 3-hour run completes the torture, erm, I mean training!

But the 2017 NZ summer chucked in a weather bomb on the Sunday making the bike a bit of a gamble.

Not wanting to take that risk, Coach switched things around to have us completing the bike straight after the Saturday swim.

Personally I found it was incredibly useful to do this as it genuinely simulated race morning. So I got up, had the breakfast I’m thinking of having, and then got to have the first go at my race plan “jigsaw”.

The swim start is 7am in the beautiful lake. So that’s what we did. The plan was to complete the distance and then hop straight on the bike for the full course.

It was a beautiful morning out on Lake Taupo. The sun was just rising and the water was flat calm – conditions we’re hopeful for on the day itself. The swim was a bit trickier than it will be on the day as there were no course markers, making sighting, and therefore swimming straight, a bit harder. It also meant we had no idea when to turn around so we had to keep checking our watches.

As it happened I didn’t do a bad job and when I got back to the finish, I was only about 80m short of the full 3.8kms. And I was stoked with the time. It was at the faster end of my expectations, so with a mass swim start on the day, I should be able to easily replicate that, and possibly go even faster with a good draft.

The “transition” was fairly swift and it was time to hit the road to Reporoa for the first of two loops.

I knew that this needed to be paced well. My legs were fresh and I felt good, but there’s a looooong way to go and I needed some reserves for the second lap. We had some company on course with two other training squads also out for a practice ride so there was some good banter and encouragement. It was great practice for when people pass you on the day and maintaining your own race and pace plan. It’s all too easy to be competitive against others, but they may have a different plan – and strengths – to you. So whether or not you think you shouldn’t let that person beat you, you have to let them go.

I got lots of practice at that.

I’d been hoping for a 7-hour-ish ride time, and at the half way point was bang on track at 3 hours 30 minutes. My husband had travelled up with the squad to provide some support, so when we got back into Taupo at the end of lap one, he was there as an “aid station” and also gave us some practice at thinking about our “special needs”.

During the actual race, at the start of the second lap you get a chance to pick up some additional items, or apply some things you may or may not have needed at the start. It’s kind of a contingency bag. So we had to think about what we might need in that on the day and left it with him.

Then it was back to Reporoa for lap 2.

We knew the wind was going to pick up as the day wore on, and that the direction would be favourable for a tailwind “home”. Which is good because that’s mostly uphill.

But where there’s a tailwind, there’s got to be a headwind too. And boy was there ever.

We’d faced a headwind in the same direction in the half. But you knew that we only had one lap to do. This time we’d already done 90kms and had to save some for the uphill, even with a tailwind, back.

And not only that. If we wanted to truly simulate race day, we had to be thinking that we still had a marathon to do at the end of it. So we still couldn’t (or at least shouldn’t) be putting in too much power and leave something in reserve for that run.

We needed to have some serious words with ourselves to get through it! And the main thing was knowing that the tailwind was yet to come. But that mental toughness is something we need to prepare for the day and have strategies for coming out the other side.

Total bike time ended up at 7 hours 13 minutes. That headwind took its toll as the return leg was pretty much equal to the first time around.

screenshot_20170125-131701

With the big swim and bike behind us, that left Sunday as a recovery and race planning day. So an early morning relaxed swim and soak in the hot pools afforded us some much needed movement the next day. Although not many of us were enthusiastic about getting back in the bike saddle having spent several hours in it the day before. But Coach ran a short spin session on the indoor trainer to get the blood flowing again.

And then it was massage time. Oh hell, yes please!

With the extra, unanticipated recovery day in the middle, Monday’s long run was always going to be done on fresher legs than on the day. So this added the extra challenge of maintaining a pace that’s achievable when you’re tired, not running how you feel.

fb_img_1485156069322

In the two half ironmans I’ve done. I’ve got off the bike and run way faster than planned because I felt alright, which resulted in rapid fade towards the end. So for this run, it was all about slow and steady. I was aiming for a pace between 6:40 and 7:00 per km, using a run/walk strategy. With an alarm set on my watch for every 15 minutes, I inserted walk breaks at that time. In addition to walking the “aid stations” laid out by my husband and Coach.

fb_img_1485156056543

The key thing to this strategy is still to walk even when you feel you don’t need to, hence the alarm on the watch. It gives the body some recovery time which results in a better performance overall and delays fatigue.

In the scheduled three hours I completed one full lap and two thirds of the second lap, achieving 26kms at a pace of 6:54 per km. Just like the end of the bike on the Saturday, I didn’t treat the finish to this run as the finish I felt I could do. I maintained the same pace to the end, knowing that I’d have another 16kms to run on the day.

img_20170123_204049_051

So the overall takeaways from the weekend were confidence and a few learnings. Confidence I can do the distance. And learnings to help me get there stronger.

Records this week

Longest swim/longest open water swim: 3722m

Longest ride (distance): 178kms

Longest ride (duration): 7 hours 13 minutes

Longest run (distance): 26kms

Longest run (duration): 2 hours 59 minutes

Training stats for the week

Swim: 6597m

Bike: 202km (plus one Group Ride class)

Run: 40.4kms

Total duration: 18 hours 20 minutes

(stats include Monday 23 Jan to cover training camp)





Countdown to Ironman: 7 weeks to go

16 01 2017

I’m training to go slower.

I know, I know. That sentence seems to go against everything you think is right with preparing for a race.

Usually, you train to go faster. But for Ironman, I’m going to say I’m training to go better.

It’s such a big event that, for your first one especially, there’s no point having a time goal. I can tell you what I think I’m capable of doing it in, but I’m not interested in beating a time.

I want to finish. End of story.

So that means I need to pace myself to leave enough in my legs for the run at the end. After all, I’ve never even run a marathon. Let alone run one after a 3.8km swim and a 180km bike ride.

This week saw the second longest run of our training plan. It’s a great opportunity to practice what you plan to do on race day. Knowing I’m going to be coming into this on tired legs, I’ll be adopting a run/walk strategy. This involves setting certain times to run for, and then walking a little. And no matter how you feel, you walk.

I know that my strategy will be to walk all the aid stations. At about 2.5kms apart, the run in between will take approx. 15 mins, maybe a little more. So in training I’ve set an alarm on my watch to go off every 15 mins, at which point I slow down, take a breather and walk for a minute.

It’s pretty hard for the first walk break when you’re in training because you’re fresher than you will be on the day, even with the fatigue from the rest of your training. So your head tells you that you can keep going. But on race day I won’t be ignoring an aid station, even the first one, so I force myself to walk.

It’s good for the mind, the body, and the soul.

So despite the run being much slower than I’d normally pace myself, I’m probably keeping my form better – a friend said she saw me as I was heading towards home and that I looked strong and in good form still.

This is important as it shows there’s still something left in the tank, and I’m still running efficiently. I won’t be using up more energy than I need to.

Making it happen – no excuses

We have a phrase in our squad – no excuses. It doesn’t matter what the weather, or if you’ve had a bad day at work, the training still has to happen somehow. Or you risk making it hard for yourself on the day.

Fitting in all the training this week ahs been a challenge . I was travelling for two days with work so moved a couple of workouts around to fit that. I knew a bike on Wednesday would be tricky so decided to do it first thing Tuesday morning before I went away.

The weekend’s weather was a bit hit and miss. With a long ride scheduled for Sunday, but with a forecast for a really windy day, some of us switched our days round and went for the big bike on Saturday instead. This did leave tired legs for the bike hill reps on Sunday, but we weren’t out in the rubbish weather for too long. And rubbish it was. I encountered headwinds, crosswinds and tailwinds, all on one rep! Character-building is one way of putting it.

And the day the long run was planned was living up to Windy Wellington standards. But hey, what’s an extra bit of resistance training? What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Right?

Getting these sessions done, making them happen, are big achievements, not just physically but mentally. Making those Training Peaks boxes go green are so satisfying. But also completing them in less-than-ideal conditions brings extra pride!

 

20170115_083730

A nice morning for a BRICK (not!)

 

Dealing with mechanicals

It’s fair to say I’ve been pretty lucky with my lack of “mechanicals” during all my time riding over the last 18 months. So I was probably due my share. They just all happened to come in the same week.

As I mentioned, I chose to do my midweek bike on Tuesday morning before setting off on a work trip. As I neared home, I heard a loud metallic “ping”. I had no clue what it was and wondered if it was a loose stone just hitting my wheel.

I continued towards home, knowing that the stiff headwind would be a challenge as I approached the last hill to my house, but as I rounded the corner to face the northerly, it felt like it was harder than it should have been. So I stopped. On inspection, my rear wheel was rubbing against the frame. I couldn’t work out why. I tried to reset the wheel but couldn’t get it straight.

Luckily a group ride was passing and they stopped to offer a hand. It’s kind of law in cycling that if you see someone on the side of the road, you check they’re OK. The first guy couldn’t work out what was wrong either. It wasn’t until another joined the inspection that he spotted the problem.

One of my spokes had snapped. Completely in half. The spokes are installed to such a tension that one snapping easily buckles the wheel. And this is why it was rubbing the frame.

 

received_10154019289541150

First broken spoke

 

I couldn’t get the wheel booked in to be repaired until after the weekend, so I borrowed a wheel from my husband’s TT bike so I could still train on my own TT. We were 5 hours 10 minutes into our long ride when I pointed out some glass on the road to my fellow riders. Literally two seconds later I got a puncture. On my borrowed wheel.

I’ve had plenty of practice changing tyres in workshops and at home, but this was my first roadside fix. My two companions enjoyed the unintended rest stop while I, quite swiftly I’m proud to say, got the tyre changed. I think I spent more time looking for what caused the puncture than actually changing it!

It was only my second time using a CO2 canister to inflate my tyre, so with some trepidation I set it up, expecting a cartoon-like inflation. In reality it was much more underwhelming but it’s such a great time and energy saver to have those things handy.

About 10 minutes was all it took and we were back on the road!

Records this week

Longest ride (distance): 133.6lms

Longest ride (duration): 5 hours 22 minutes

First roadside tyre change

First broken spoke.

Training stats for the week

Bike: 183kms (plus a Group Ride spin class)

Swim: 7950m

Run: 36.8kms

Total time: 17 hours 38 minutes

capture