Sometimes doubt is the only motivation you need to show the world something great.
A lot of my blogs I talked about hitting it too hard to early. I did. But this, this was not too hard to early. All my past experiences prepared me for this, the Gold Coast Half Ironman.
I was so excited; finally I would race a triathlon, and see if I could live up to the potential all the pro triathlon chorus saw in me. I knew I would. Before the race I told someone close to me, "I am going to impress you, and I am going to beat a lot of people I shouldn't. No one will believe how fast I go." I was ready to compete, but nothing would prepare me for the shock of my result.
This race was so important me for a number of reasons. Finally I was competing in a race that many told me I was born to do. The success of this race could shape my future path in the sport and justify to me the change I made. Validate the move and silence any fears I had in giving up on my dreams of success in swimming. I wanted to prove to myself and so many others that it didn’t matter what sport I did, if I wanted it bad enough, if I had the intestinal fortitude to push myself I would succeed.
I drove down the day before to check my bike into transition. It was so windy, hot, dirt everywhere. I was a little concerned about how I would handle the wind on the bike, but couldn’t lament on that. Walking around the stalls I saw a few items I thought I might need to be more professional. A number strap to speed up transition, I like them they look cool! And an aerobar water bottle. In such a long event hydration would be key, and doing so whilst in an aerodynamic position seemed a good idea to me.
It took me so long to set it all up; I started to get very nervous. I had to completely remove my aerobars to spread them a little, how would this affect my position I wondered? I hadn’t tried it out and I guess there really was no time. So many bikes, I walked around to take it all in. The set up was very cool, we were to run down into a car park to collect our bikes, then run up a ramp in the middle and out to the road. So many people in such a small space, so much competition. I did learn one thing; my bike was like bringing a beat up Ute to a supercar race. A Beatle vs. a Ferrari. But I could do the job on this one, I knew it.
Kieren (Sparky) my friend and I arrived early the next day. The atmosphere was electric, so much nervous tension, so many athletes. I hurried to transition to set up all my stuff, shoes, helmet, water bottles, hat etc. The official was barking out a countdown, I was so nervous, fumbling with last minute preparation, I didn’t want to get out of the swim and realise I forgot my cleats or something vital.
We were herded out like sheep when the time limit was up, I was satisfied as well as I could be that I had set everything up correctly. Dean, Sparky and Kel waited for me outside. We made small talk as I got ready, put my blue seventy suit on. I didn’t have a tri suit yet so underneath I wore a singlet and bike pants. The plan was to lead out of the water at a comfortable pace, 30kms an hour on the bike and 1.45 half marathon. 5 hours. I had to go under 5 hours.
Race start was nothing like I expected. Open water swimming to me means, kicking, violence, but as soon as the gun went I was clear. These guys were runners and cyclists, not swimmers. By half way I had already caught and swum through two age groups. I was concern I may have been going to hard, how slow should I go? I was never really under any stress but who knows how it could affect me by the end of the race. I still had the burning desire to win the swim, I wanted to be the fastest out of the water. Needless to say it didn’t happen, I was 6th, but none the less clear of my field by over 2minutes.
My transition went very smoothly, a jolt of excitement shot through me as I grabbed my bike. This is it, its really happening, I thought to myself as I ran out of the transition area, I am a triathlete. I got down on my aero bars as soon as I could, my eye fixed on the speedo I was determined to maintain 30kph. It’s such a different race. So many guys went flying past me, guys I know I passed on the run. Everyone has there strong points and nothing is more daunting than when a bike with a solid back wheel, humming loudly, flies past you like you are standing still. Could I really going that slow?
10kms in I hit a pothole, I saw it coming but couldn’t move quickly enough. My aerobar water bottle went flying. The water bottle I had gastrolite in to help me retain water and prevent dehydration. $80. Gone. A bottle I bought especially for the race. SHIT. For the next 15km all I could think about was the water bottle, and how I would get it back. In this time I managed to maintain an average speed of 32.5kph.
10km from the first turn around point I stopped and jumped off my bike waited for bike traffic to pass and ran across to collect my water bottle. I did my best to secure it again, but it wasn’t too sturdy, so I held it in place whilst trying to ride.
At the turn around point I yelled out to Dean and Sparky, throwing my bottle in their general direction. As soon as I was around the corner I stood up and pressed hard, big ring high cadence. 32.5kph was way above my goal, but I felt I had more, so I really focused on getting my speeds up at any stage. Slowly I watched my average speed increase. I grew more confident, overtaking numerous people committed to not allowing them to catch back up.
I made sure every lap to take on new water bottles. I had lost my big one, and knew it was critical to maintain my fluid levels. Nutrition was also important so I had something to eat and a gel shot every lap. My gel shots were taped to my frame so when I grabbed them the top ripped off, I thought that was cool, learnt that in transition.
By my third lap my average speed was approaching 33kph, and I was starting to get excited doing the sums in my head. I was on target for a 2.50 ride 10mins faster than I had planned, maybe I would go 4.55 or so! Amazing. My legs started to ache particularly around the knee and I grew concern for the run. Had I gone too hard on the bike? This was faster than I had ever ridden before, so I wasn’t sure how it would affect me. I had come this far though, the damage had been done if any, and so I decided to push all out. As hard as I could on the bike, then see what the legs had.
I had finally pushed my kph to around 33.4, things were going great. This was mainly due to a 15km stretch where I maintained 40kph whilst dragging along another competitor. Drafting is illegal but apparently if you can do it, you do. Coming into the home straight there was a ferocious head wind. My kph along this straight in the first two laps was around 35, now it was 26. It really affected me badly, I knew I had to ease the legs a little so they weren’t like jelly by my kph just kept dropping.
I pushed as hard as I thought I could without really ruining my chances of running at all. By the time I was off the bike I had ridden for 2.44.13 seconds, 16mins fast than my goal time, I was on fire. The first few steps off the bike my heart sunk. I could barely run properly, my legs were gone. But once I had my shoes on, heading out of transition it all seemed to go away.
The first lap I really didn’t have a clue what pace I was going, or how long I would last. The only previous half marathon I had ever done I had to basically walk the last 2kms so I had to be careful not to overdo it too early. In my back pocket I had gel shots, and my cycling computer. I didn’t own a watch so it would tell me a vague time for my run.
I started to overtake a lot of people. I sunk right into a rhythm and by the completion of the first lap I had gone through in a little over 4min km pace. I was over the moon if this kept up, my race would be phenomenal. Sparky signalled me from the side, thumbs up or down? Thumbs up I signalled back, he was on the phone, "this is f***ing ease," I shouted, striding out longer.
The second lap was pretty much the same as the first, felt strong and built through the lap. I made sure to drink every station and got the free gel shots whenever I could. By the third lap I started to feel a little bit of fatigue in my calves but nothing earth shattering. I found myself laughing, is this it? I couldn’t believe how much I had built this up in my head, compared to a 25km open water swim, this was nothing.
With 3km to go I started to slow. The race had obviously taken its toll on my legs and I think I slowed to a 5min km. Determined to save it I pushed myself harder, yelling at myself in my head. The last Km was a blur. After over 4 hours of racing, convincing yourself to push it out over the last 4mins isn’t that hard. In comparison to the length of the race it is nothing. I hit the finish line with the fastest speed I had run all day.
I was done. My first Half Ironman and it felt amazing. Sparky was at the finish line to congratulate me. "You definitely went under 5hours" he said. Damn straight I did. 4 hours 52 is what we calculated and I was over the moon with that. As I walked past everyone collapsed on chairs and laying on the ground I realised this is my sport, and the full Ironman is not too long away.
Four hours later as I sat in front of my computer, smiling still over the moon on my performance I checked the official results. 4hours 42mins 57 seconds. You have got to be kidding me. I refreshed the page a few times, and it never changed. I messaged Dean, Sparky, Danielle, all my friends anyone I could tell that would understand. To go under 5hours, many thought was impossible. I smashed it.
I couldn’t believe it, chills went through my spine. This really was my sport. I felt so validated. I really did have a shot at this, and it was real. I was in shock, but I knew that with this result was the start of something great. A journey of tears, gruelling pain, breath taking moments and no matter how it end it would end in success. A journey always ends in success if you put your whole heart into it. Regardless of the result. This was the beginning of my journey to the Hawaiian Ironman 2010.
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