Port of Tauranga Half - Race Report

The Port of Tauranga Half has a great history.  It is the longest running half iron distance triathlon in New Zealand, this year celebrating its 25th anniversary.  It was first run on 2 January 1990, its founder inspired by competing in Ironman Hawaii, and has become one of the country's iconic events in the annual triathlon calendar taking over the holiday town of Mt Maunganui every summer.  (The souvenir program provides a great history of the event and is well worth a read.)

And that on its own was a pretty good reason to enter.  The entry came about, however, after a challenge was made by two of my iron pals, Mel and Jacky.  They suggested I come over and do it with them.  But believe it or not I did hesitate.  While it's always good to slot in a half iron distance into the season in the build up to Ironman New Zealand, it would require an additional trip to New Zealand and not just a straightforward flight into Auckland.  There were the additional logistics of bringing the bike over and then driving to Mt Maunganui, around 3 hours out of Auckland.  In other words it would be on a scale, logistically similar to travelling to Ironman NZ but for "just a training day".

Most importantly, however, was the fact that it was down for 4 January which was St Pete's birthday.

On that basis alone I was prepared to flag it, however St Pete thought about it for a few minutes and before I knew it was messaging the two instigators back: "If you both enter then Toni can too". Woohoo, green flag given!

And so that's how Mel and I came to be standing waist deep in Pilot Bay at 6.15am yesterday searching out the turn buoys amongst the moored yachts.  (An operation a few weeks ago had caused Jacky's withdrawal but she would be found on the sidelines cheering everyone on.)

Mel and I at race briefing

The conditions were almost perfect.  The water wasn't glass-like as it had been the morning before and there was a light drizzle in the air, but that also meant that there was no rising sun to swim into (so no sunstrike on the water) and the temperatures would be a couple of degrees lower also.  The most difficult thing was finding those buoys amongst the boats.  And this wasn't like Ironmans New Zealand or Cairns - no buoys every 100m or so along the course!  There was one buoy at each corner and we needed to know the course well enough to navigate our way around the smaller 700m loop first, out onto the beach and back into the water again for the longer 1300m loop.  I figured, though, if I couldn't see the buoys immediately I simply needed to follow everyone else - afterall I was under no illusions that I'd be out in front!

My race plan for the day was to pretty much go by feel.  Coach Dave and I had tossed around a couple of ideas but his ultimate feeling was that I should just see how it goes and play it by ear.  I had some new nutrition to try out and so the primary aim also was to come through the run avoiding any gut issues.  To that end I planned to try out a scenario of eliminating gels from the bike leg and switching to them only once I started running.  On the bike leg I would take a supply of home made date and ginger bars and supplement that with electrolytes in the drink bottle and a banana from the two aid stations.  

The plan for the swim was to simply take it steady, try to follow feet where I could and come out of the water fresh enough to put in a good solid bike leg.  The aim for the bike was a sub-3 hour bike split.  Anything aside of that would be go by feel and see how it pans out.  The run was always going to be a tricky proposition.  My ultimate aim for ironman is to succeed in putting together a run leg where I actually run the whole darn distance except for walking through the aid stations.  To date I haven't managed that yet!  The other scenario was to try the plan from my last half marathon where I picked up the pace slightly every 5km.  After doing a practise run around the gravel and undulating base track of the Mount, which we do twice in the race, I wasn't sure that this was going to be a goer, but kept it in the back of my mind as a possible strategy to go for.

Anyway, I was feeling good about the day and ready to get going, and after giving Mel a good luck hug, we both found some space in the water and waited for the start gun.  I would see her again after the finish.

The swim started and we started making our way down the course and between the boats.  The swim itself was pretty comfortable although it was pretty offputting to come out of the water on the first loop and see 20 minutes showing on the race clock.  As I got back in the water for the second loop I couldn't help but be demoralised briefly when I calculated a 60 minute finishing time for the swim, based on the second loop being basically twice the distance of the first.  What I didn't do is actually look at the Garmin strapped to my wrist.

Duh.

Partway into the second loop I remembered that the clock would have started from when the pros went (around 6 minutes ahead of the female age groupers) and therefore needed to be ignored.  Common sense had returned and while I wasn't sure how much time to deduct from the clock I put it out of my mind and focused instead on getting to the finish of the swim.

Out of the water, into T1 and onto the bike.  As always, this is my favorite part of the race - now the day can begin!  The bike course is essentially flat and there was only the lightest of breeze so I was confident I could put in a good performance.  While there are half a dozen U-turns and a similar number of corners to negotiate, it's generally a great opportunity to hunker down on the aero bars and put in a solid time trial ride.

I wasn't able to watch my speed so pretty much went by feel.  I was passing plenty of people which was a good sign and the only other pace indicator I had was the Garmin which gave me an alert every 5km.  Maintaining a speed of 30km/hr or better would result in 5km being completed in under 10 minutes, so that was what I kept an eye on.

I also used the 5km alerts as a reminder to have a date bar.  Great strategy except for one small problem.  After eating a couple of them I realised that the 9 bars I had in my pockets would only last the first half of the bike leg at that rate.  That's OK, I thought, I'll just spread them out a little bit and it'll be good to have them predominantely in the first half of the bike leg so that my gut will have had time to digest them before I start running.

There is one aid station on the bike course and we pass that twice and so the plan was to pick up a banana and water on the first pass (about 17km in) and then replace the bottle of electrolyte, top up the water and grab another banana on the second pass (at around 62km).  This sort of went to plan except there were no bananas available the first time around and the second time around was a bit of a comedy show.

As we approached the aid station I threw out the empty electrolyte bottle and called out for banana, electrolyte and water.  The first thing I got handed was a banana.  Tried to put it in a pocket to grab later but couldn't do it quickly so stuck it between my teeth.  One second later I get handed the water bottle.  Bugger, can't put it anywhere (this bottle gets used to top up the bladder in the bike and then gets tossed aside) and I still have to pick up the electrolyte - don't have enough hands!  So I hand back the water bottle to the next volunteer, grab the electrolyte bottle from another volunteer, put it in the cage and finally pick up another water bottle from the final volunteer.  Top up the bladder in the bike, toss the bottle away and finally extract the banana from between my teeth and peel it so I can actually eat it!  Whew - a shorter aid station than I'm used to in ironman certainly made life more entertaining for the onlookers, I'm sure.  And not quite sure how I managed to stay upright - I ended up rolling through VERY slowly, and still clipped in.  For a millisecond I thought it would be easier to stop but I only had one hand on the bars and the other picking up and giving back stuff to volunteers so stopping wasn't an option.  Yikes!

Towards the end of the bike I knew I had pushed hard and was confident that I would have come in ahead of my 3 hour goal.  It was a happy irongirl who therefore rolled into T2.  As I changed into my running shoes a girl was next to me doing the same thing.  "Just a little run to do now" I said to her.

If only it were ever that simple!

I headed out of T2 and while the legs were feeling like lumps of concrete just kept saying to myself "running is always faster than walking".  I decided in those first couple of kilometres, then, just to keep running, no matter how slowly I was going.  It would be better than walking and I could reassess once I had hit 5km.  At each aid station I walked through and for the first of the two laps I had a gel at a couple of the aid stations and electrolyte at the others.  At one aid station I saw a supply of bananas and because I had failed to have one on the bike decided to try one on the run.  Almost immediately I got a minor reaction in my gut and that was enough to tell me just to stay away from the solid food full stop.

After around 5km I was starting to feel as though I was in a pretty good rhythm.  My pace was sitting around marathon pace which I was happy with and it felt like my heart rate was pretty comfortable.  I had managed to maintain a run all the way around the Mount track where others were walking and so I made a conscious decision not to pick up the pace on the road section.  While I knew I could probably pick it up a bit I was concerned that it might result in me blowing up and walking sections of the Mount track and this could result in a slower overall time.  So I stuck with the conservative strategy and just picked off the kilometres with walks through the aid stations only.

On the second lap I went to take the 3rd of the 4 gels I had with me and, like the banana before, got a minor but immediate reaction to it.  That was enough for me to decide enough with the gels and for the the remainder of the run I just took electrolyte drink at each aid station.

As I approached the Mount track for the final time I saw Mel's friend Elise just past the aid station.  As I walked through it Elise asked if I had seen Mel on course, which I hadn't.  It had been difficult to look out for her on the bike but I had expected we'd cross paths on the run.  Elise was worried as she had seen Mel on the bike but hadn't seen her running.  I had to keep going, though, but it was a worry to know that she might have pulled out.

The final time around the Mount was tough but good - most people around me by that stage were walking up the climbs and I was still running and getting past them.  About 3/4 of the way around the track for the last time the Garmin beeped at me to give me the 19km split.  2km to go and the total time was reading 5 hours 48 minutes.  In a repeat of the Ironman Cairns scenario I was calculating the time remaining.  Could I do a couple of 6 minute kilometres and get to the finish inside 6 hours?

It was a long shot but I decided I had nothing to lose and I may as well give it a shot.  If I had been conservative before this was the time to seek payback and see what I had.  What made it a bit tougher was the first of those final kilometres was still on the undulating unsealed track but I still picked up the pace where I could and very soon I was back out on the road and it was a flat run to the finish line.  Around 1km out was the final aid station and I grabbed a cup of water there and tossed it over my head without stopping (yep, didn't walk through that one!), pinned my ears back and focused on getting to the finish line.

I managed to pass a couple of people in that final stretch and I remember thinking "if anyone sprints past me now, good on them".  I don't think I had much more in me and was pretty elated to cross the finish line, pressing the stop button on the Garmin and seeing 6:00:00.  Officially I stopped the clock at 5:59:58 - talk about cutting it pretty close but that final kilometre was completed in 5 minutes 36 seconds; my fastest split for the whole distance!

Start slow and finish strong - one of Coach Dave's mantras and one I managed to follow :)

After the finish I finally found Mel and was gutted for her - after her second puncture of the day she was forced to pull out having completed around 53km on the bike leg. So disappointing for her but I know she'll be fired up to do another half distance event in the near future.

In the meantime, I savoured my reward of hot chips, gobsmacked that I had achieved 11th place in my age group and a theoretical place in the New Zealand team for the long distance world champs.  

Who would have thought this irongirl would be capable of something like that....
(St Pete certainly thought I was but it was beyond my wildest dreams!)

Port of Tauranga Half: Thelma and Louise do a Road Trip

It's the first day of 2014 and tomorrow is the beginning of a girls' weekend.

Most typical girls' weekends would involve large quantities of wine, chocolates, pedicures, manicures and facials.  Maybe a soppy movie or two, a show, shopping or other fun night out.  Exercise of any sort is a big no-no, unless it involves letting your hair down on the dance floor, and the only marathon these girls would contemplate is one involving vast numbers of shops or several hours of movies.

But this is my blog and this Irongirl doesn't do your typical girls' weekend.

No, my kind of girls' weekend involves Black Beauty, a fellow irongirl as crazy as myself and far more luggage than most airlines think is really necessary.

And that is the plan for this weekend, which is why I find myself back in New Zealand and ready for a road trip to Mt Maunganui tomorrow, with fellow crazy chick and awesome buddy Mel.  

On Saturday we complete the Port of Tauranga Half.

And then we bring out the chocolates and movie!

Ironman New Zealand 2012 - A Shorter Day

Sunday morning, 4 March 2012, 24 hours after I was supposed to have been starting Ironman #2 and I was on the shores of Lake Taupo with 1500 fellow athletes, contemplating a shortened day ahead.

We had woken at 4.00am to go through the normal breakfast and body glide routine.  Eat some toast and banana, apply body glide to all the bits that might even think about chafing during the day and think happy, focused thoughts.

The weather was still a bit iffy - the wind was blowing enough to cast doubts in my mind as to whether we would get to swim, and yesterday's storm had left a chill in the air.  However there was no point thinking or worrying about it - we needed to get down to the start area and get body marked and then rack the bike for a second time.  After I racked the bike I also had to find my transition bags and re-check those.  I needed to make sure everything in there was still needed given the shortened distance and do minor changes such as change the yellow lenses out of the sunglasses and put the dark lenses back in.

All sorted and it was back to the marquee to chill out for half an hour or so.

And chill out I did.  Literally.

The temperature outside was about 5 degrees Celsius and my long pants and hoodie were struggling to keep me anywhere near warm enough.

Waiting, waiting, trying to stay warm...

By 7.00am (an hour before race start) I had had enough of sitting around playing ice block and so we headed down to the foreshore and found mum and dad.  They had driven up from Christchurch to cheer me on and this was to be their first ironman experience.  I was really pleased to have them share this with us and hoped they would enjoy it as much as we had promised!

An added bonus was the fact that they had travelled up in their camper van.  The Taupo District Council is very accommodating to self-contained campers and provides a parking area right by the lakefront where you can park up for a maximum of two nights.  No pre-booking, you just take your chances, but there were parks for about 20 vans and it was right between the swim start and the run/bike action.  They therefore had a perfect spot to base themselves for the day.

We headed down to the start area and it was looking like it was going to be a great day.  I was ready to go, in fact I was wishing we could just get on with it!  At that point I should have already finished ironman for the year and hobbled my aching muscles to the nearest cafe for a decent celebratory breakfast.

Anyway, the day was just beginning and so I said my farewells to mum, dad and St Pete and joined everyone through the swim chute down to the start line to get acclimatised to the water temperature.  The lake was a little chilly to start with, but warmer than Shelly Beach had been a few weeks ago when I did the Cole Classic (sans wetsuit!).

Finally, we were swimming.  The water was a little bit lumpy from yesterday's storm, and not quite as clear as it normally is (again, remnants of the storm). There was still a bit of wind but it really wasn't too bad. We headed out and, as always, it took me a while to get into a rhythm. However I was a pretty happy camper - not worried about the distance or anything other than getting to the first turn buoy. We got there and did the turn which leads you about 70m away from the shore before you turn again and head back to the starting end of the course. I did my first ever "swim" around the buoy, rather than "breaststroke" around it so was very pleased with myself there, and "swam" around the second buoy and headed home.

The swim seemed to be going OK. I was happy, didn't get lost, didn't seem to get too far off course and was doing calculations in my head about the time I wanted to see on the clock on the beach. The pros had started 15min ahead of us and I was aiming for a 45min swim time. So I really wanted to see 1 hour or less showing on the clock when I got out of the water.

When I hit the beach and looked it up, the clock was showing 1:05. Damn! That meant a 50min swim rather than 45min. What happened there? Bit disappointed with that, but nothing I could do about it now, onto the bike. I ran up the chute, overtaking about four people in the first 20m out of the water (they were all walking/staggering out!) to start the 400m jog up to transition. As I did so I also started pulling my wetsuit down. I've got a fab new Garmin 910XT trainer on my wrist and it takes a bit of care to get the wetsuit sleeves off so I decided to stop and walk a couple of metres while I concentrated on getting the sleeve off properly.

Next thing I hear "you're not supposed to be walking!" Jeez, talk about sprung! Look up and there's Mel S and her partner Pete, standing alongside the walkway, telling me off. OK, sleeve off, lesson learnt and I start jogging along the green carpet again and up the hill to transition.

Into the transition tent and the volunteers, as always, were amazing. Wetsuit stripped off, bag emptied out, shoes and socks on, vest and arm warmers on, number on, sunglasses on and I'm ready to go. Run out, helmet on, pick up bike and before I know it I'm off riding.

The bike is my favourite leg and this was no exception. I relished the opportunity to push a bit harder than I would have done with full IM distance and spent the 90 minutes powering out to Reporoa with a bit of a tail wind and plenty of people around to target and pass.

At Reporoa we turn around and head back into town and it was set to be a slightly longer journey - uphill overall and a noticeable headwind made its presence known. Not to worry, I settled in and had plenty of people around to play cat and mouse with.

I had a good routine with the aid stations as well, picking up a banana at all but one and taking in a gel every 15km. The one aid station I missed picking up a banana from was at the bottom of a hill and I think I might have been going slightly too fast for me to do a successful pickup ... who's bright idea was it to put an aid station at the bottom of a hill anyway? Such a waste of perfectly good free speed!!!!

The last 10km of the IMNZ bike course is always my favourite - downhill - and today was no exception. Even better than last year, it was dry as well, so there was no holding back as we came back into Taupo. So much so that about 5km out my contact lens appeared to get blown out. I thought I felt it dislodge and had a couple of attempts at pushing it back into place but wasn't about to sacrifice any speed in this final section so pushed on with 3/4 vision and the hope that I could resolve it in transition.

Into transition and again loved the work of the volunteers. I sat down and had my bike shoes and socks taken off for me and new socks put on and running shoes put on as well. That left me free to take off my helmet, vest and arm warmers and put on my running cap and rearrange my race number to my front.

And just like that I was ready to head out on the final leg. Just before I left the tent, though, I spotted a medic and so took the opportunity to ask her to check my eye for a stray lens. No conclusive answer on that - after a bit of pushing my eyeball around she couldn't tell if it was in or out. Never mind, if I have to, I'll run without it.

Are we there yet?

So with good vision in one eye and average vision in the other eye I started running. As usual the first 5km was tough but I expected that and so knew I just had to get through it. The course had been changed to a 2 lapper, so around 5.5km each way, out and back.

The plan was to only walk the aid stations and I sort of achieved that. OK, I didn't totally achieve that... But I did finish up with a 2:31 half marathon time which isn't too bad for me. During the run I had some great company - Jacky (Ironjack) was out there yelling me on and Mel S also lounged in a deck chair alongside the run course (and she gave me a hard time for walking for 10m to transition, jeez!).

Loudest of all were St Pete and Mum and Dad, who had also scattered themselves along the course with the inflated bananas, cowbell and pullout signs. They certainly had a busy time once I started running and, given it's my least favourite leg, it was the best time to have some loud and raucous company!

One of the really cool things about the out and back course is that you had plenty of company in the form of other runners and I guess it's a reflection of my improvement that even on my last lap there were still people around - I wasn't running on my own. And heading back on my last lap I couldn't help but look across at the people still heading out, usually with two arm bands on (signifying that they were on their last lap as well), but occasionally I'd see someone with only one arm band on, which gave me a great confidence boost.

Six hours and 44 minutes after setting out that morning I headed down the finish chute, absolutely shattered but also really happy to be getting to the end.

One of the only times, I'm sure, that I'll finish Ironman in the daylight!!!!!!

Lake Wanaka Half: It's Just a Training Day

There are a few YouTube videos doing the rounds at the moment that really strike a chord with me, and probably every other triathlete around.  "Sh*t Triathletes Say" is a compilation of common phrases we are probably guilty of saying and which, to a "normal" person, probably sounds off this planet.  As an example, this video is one of my particular favourites:

As I watched it for the first time I realised that I was sounding exactly like this when discussion turned to me doing the half iron individual event at the Lake Wanaka Half last month.  I would try to lower everyone else's expectations of it (and my own) by qualifying my entry with the comment: "It's just a training day for IMNZ".  

Riiight...(I can now hear people thinking!)

So why would I qualify it at all (and therefore join the realms of triathletes talking sh*t worldwide)?

Quite simply, I didn't know what to expect and didn't want to take on any more pressure than I had already been experiencing over the past year.  

Entering the Lake Wanaka Half was a bit of an evolution.  In April last year it started out as an idea to enter a team in the full distance and I was keen to do the bike leg as a training day for Ironman - I know, another "sh*t triathletes say" moment.  By the time St Pete and I were leaving for Sydney, however, the idea had moved on from a team entry to me entering the half as an individual and using it as part of my build up to Taupo.

It seemed like a fabulous idea at the time - a great excuse to go back and catch up with the Christchurch crew and an opportunity to try out this course that I had heard such good things about.

So I entered.  And there was no turning back. 

And then I entered the most challenging period of my training so far - adjusting to new city, new job, new country, new geography, new climate.  You name it, it had changed and I couldn't even begin to contemplate how it would affect my ultimate goal of ironman, let alone the half at Wanaka.

Coach Dave was a star - if he was worried about all my niggles, concerns and doubts, reports of missed sessions or sessions that weren't going to plan, he didn't let on.  And probably just as well!  

During one particular Skype session he asked me how I thought training was going.  After what seemed like an eternal silence I realised I couldn't answer him.  I had no benchmarks to base this year's training against last year's.  I was running and biking in heat, humidity and hills - three things I hadn't experienced in Christchurch and traditionally didn't deal well with.  I had reached the point where I was going to be just happy to make the start line at Taupo, let alone have any sort of attempt at a 13 hour finish.

There's a bike in there somewhere...

But I kept telling myself that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger and so with St Pete's encouragement (and continued cooking, cleaning and caring!) I found myself packing up the bike and preparing to head back to New Zealand for 

"it's just a training day in preparation for my A race".....

Lake Wanaka Half: Race Report

So, the day had arrived.  This year, just six weeks out from Ironman New Zealand, I was going to take on Lake Wanaka Half, the half iron distance. And, unlike my training program last year, the goal was to complete the whole thing. Last year Coach Dave advised me not to finish the run so as to not trash the legs (and that half iron distance was 5 months before ironman!).  This year I had the green light to do the whole thing, confident that I could recover in time for my "A" race in March.

How times have changed...

The goals for the day were to have a good solid swim, coming out of the water feeling happy (mental disposition is so important!).  Then go hard on the bike (I know no different) before doing a steady run focusing on staying comfortable to the end so as to conserve the legs.  At the same time I'd be practising my nutrition strategy and making sure it was dialled in properly for Ironman.

I was feeling relaxed and calm and, despite the waves on the lake, was feeling no trepidation about the swim.  How different from my first ironman swim a year ago.

Swim: I was really happy with it.  It was pretty rough and I was closely surrounded by girls all the way to the first turn but I wasn't concerned about the proximity of others or the occasional touch with hands or feet while swimming.  The wind was such that I went to breathing on my left side only up to the first buoy and so by the time I got to the first turn my right arm and shoulder were feeling a bit tired from the extra work on that side.  It was also pretty gnarly punching through the waves heading out so breathing every stroke was also preferable!

Once we got past the first turn I was able to go back to bilateral breathing and felt a lot more balanced. Heading to the second and third turn buoys were fine but coming back along the beach was tough,  only because I couldn't see a thing.  The sun was in our eyes and I couldn't get any bearings.  It was a case of following the splashing ahead and hoping it was heading in the right direction. At one point I had to ask a girl beside me where the buoy was and she pointed it out - it was only about 50m away but I could barely see it!

What went well: my confidence - no major stressing over the distance or conditions. I've definitely got my psychological demons sorted.

What would I change for next time:probably not a lot. I would have liked to have got a better time, but I guess the conditions played a part in that.  I stopped the clock at 45:50 and 15th (out of 19) in my age group.

All in all came out of the water happy and relaxed.  Goal achieved!

Bike: The conditions were good, with not much wind until the last 20km.  The course is quite hilly and so quite a bit more difficult than the Lake Hood course which was totally flat.  It is also hillier than the Taupo Ironman course and so I was really happy with the way I coped on the climbs.

I passed heaps of people, including lots of people on the climbs - which would have been unheard of 12 months ago.  I got into a good rhythm, pushed the pace and kept cadence high (at least I think I did!).

Nutrition went to plan - I had a gel at the start of the bike and then at the start of each drop zone I had another gel. At each aid station I also took half a banana and at two aid stations I took a pump bottle and topped up my front bottle with water.  All up then I had 6 gels, 3 whole bananas and half a bottle of electrolyte.  I had a 7th gel in T2.

What would I change for next time: again, probably not a lot. The aim was to have a good solid ride and practice my nutrition and I achieved both goals.  I would have liked to have got closer to 3 hours, however given the terrain it was probably a solid effort. 

My bike split was 5th fastest in my age group so I'm a lot more confident that my Sydney training has had a positive spinoff.  Goals achieved!

Stunning day for a bike ride - loving it!

Run: The aim was to not push the run so as to not kill the legs before Taupo.  I started out slowly and the first 5km was pretty hard.  I couldn't get into a rhythm and was just hating it.

After that, though, and especially along the river track I came right and really enjoyed the next 10km.  I found a steady rhythm and maintained that until the hill in Gunn St. I walked up that, as planned, and came to the drink station at the top looking for a gel. It was a water station only, however, and I noticed I started to fade not long after that.  

Best part of the course

The last 5km was a bit of a grind but I also didn't want to push it and kill my legs off.  So I focused on a steady pace, approx 7min kilometres seemed the most achievable IM pace to aim for. I took a gel and water at every aid station (where available!) and that seemed OK.   So I had 6 gels in total on the run, in hindsight possibly a fraction light.

What would I do differently next time: I think I would try and carry a small stash of lollies for emergencies between aid stations. At IM I'll try and push the pace a bit more, especially once I get through the first 5km - aim for 7min kilometres (which would give me a sub 5hr marathon time).



Overall, though, I was happy with the run.  That split was 2:40:52 and 14th in my age group. It was an undulating course and again I think the Sydney training helped.  I've definitely improved.  Goals achieved!

I crossed the finish line feeling pretty stuffed but not completely trashed and feeling very satisfied with what had turned out to be a good solid training day. Preparation leading in was good - three days prior on a low fibre diet meant no GI issues and I weighed the same at start and finish, so fluid balance must have been spot on. 

My transitions went well - I was 5th and 9th fastest in my age group out of T1 and T2 respectively so well in the top half of the field for that aspect which I was also happy with.

Recovery was also good - I went and stood in Lake Wanaka for about 15 mins afterwards and then spent the next 36 hours in my 2XU compression leggings and seem to have bounced back reasonably well.  

Great day out and fantastic confidence boost for Taupo - bring it on!

South Island Half Ironman; or - It's Just a Training Day, Part 2

I can't do this.

Yes you can, just put your head down and do steady strokes. Don't think about the distance.

Shit, that looks like a long way over there. I feel sick. I should eat something, but ... Shit, that looks like a long way over there. Shit. Shit. Shit.

It was a grey, chilly Saturday morning at Lake Hood. I was standing at the edge of the lake looking across at the orange buoys and, in particular, the one in the far distance. In just over an hour I would be in the water starting my training day, which also happened to be the South Island Half Ironman.

1.9km of swimming lay ahead of me and the location of the buoys was freaking me out.

I had been a little bit tense that morning because, even though it was just a training day, I had managed to load plenty of expectations onto myself. There was going to be a lot going on and to think about afterwards but ultimately it would be invaluable in testing strategies for ironman.

Because ironman is not the day to be trying out anything new.

The plan for the day, then, was to do a good swim, practice a smooth transition to the bike, a good steady bike leg, practice a smooth transition to the run and then complete one lap (of three) of the run course before pulling out.

The expectations on top of that were plenty. In the swim I wanted to see some improvement in my time from last year, to show for the hours I had spent in the pool over winter. That wasn't going to be so easy, though, when my mind wasn't completely cured of its swim demons. In the bike leg I had also added the expectation of a faster time, especially as my bike was now sporting a pair of Fast Forward F6C carbon fibre deep-rimmed aero wheels. Scotty at Scotty Brown's had very generously agreed to let me trial them for the event and had promised they would be so fast, and I would like them so much, that I would wet myself (and then buy them!). So, obviously I was keen to see exactly how much of a difference they would make.

But before I got onto the bike I had to get through this blasted swim.

Wetsuit on and one of Coach Dave's gems of advice was to get into the water extra early and have a bit of a warm up. It would help settle the nerves and I could check out the best spots to sight off from water level. So I did this and, just as I was getting into the water, a speedboat idles past, heading out into the lake with two huge yellow buoys on the back. Within a couple of minutes the boat had dropped off the buoys, placing them in position on the course - in a spot much, much, closer than the permanent fixed orange buoys I had been freaking out about just 20 minutes earlier.

Duh, what was I worried about? I can do that!

Before you know it the gun's going off and we're away.  I wait a little for a bit of clear space and then start swimming.  All through the swim leg I periodically stop and breaststroke to get my bearings again (definitely need more practice at sighting while swimming!) but the most encouraging thing all the while is that I'm not hyperventilating and I'm not at the back of the field.  There are actually people behind me.

On the outward leg of the second lap we almost have white caps on the lake with a good stiff southerly in our faces, which also results in the odd gobful of water when you least expect it.  After commiserating with a bloke who was breaststroking alongside me and looking much less comfortable I decided I had done enough stuffing around and put my head down and went past him.

Because I'm not competitive at all ... yeah right.

46 minutes 42 seconds after the start I haul myself out of the water and feel good enough to run the short distance into transition and to my waiting bike.  Behind me I can hear Pete call out that I had a PB and, indeed, I had taken 6 minutes off my swim time from last year.  However that was the least of my concerns at that particular time.

Game Face On

The adrenaline was pumping and so my only interest was stripping off my wetsuit, goggles and swim cap, whipping on my helmet, putting on my sunglasses, clipping on my belt, putting on my socks and then bike shoes.  A little more than a minute later I've taken the bike off the rack and am running towards the transition exit.  At the same time another woman pulled her bike off the rack and was also making her way to the exit.  I was feeling so good I ran past her and jumped on the bike and took off like a woman possessed, registering a T1 time of 1 minute 45 seconds.

I'm not competitive at all ... yeah right.

As I'm heading out on the bike I look down at the bike computer and make a surprising discovery.  My heartrate is 174 beats per minute.  Significantly higher than my intended heartrate for the bike, which I had planned to have in the vicinity of 145-147.  Damn, better try and drop it down a bit, at least get it back below 160 which is the top limit of my training zone.  13 minutes later it finally drops sufficiently for my bike computer to stop incessantly beeping at me.

The bike course was a 3 lap out and back route of 15km each way.  The advantage of an out and back course is that you generally get hammered and helped by the wind equally each way.  And it certainly was the case this time around.  On the outward leg we fought our way into a strong southerly, which was on our backs for the inward leg.  Throughout the bike I concentrated on keeping my heartrate within the training zone and keeping the cadence relatively high.  On top of this was maximising the time spent on my aero bars and making sure I ate and drank regularly.

There wasn't much time, then, to actually switch off and get into any sort of riding "zone".  I had a steady stream of "stuff" to think about - cadence, position, heartrate, food, drink.  And then there'd be someone up ahead of me to focus on and pass.

Because I'm not competitive at all ... yeah right.

The day was cold and drizzly and so I didn't really warm up properly.  I also started to get the dreaded tingling finger at the start of the third lap.  However 3 hours and 11 minutes later I rolled into transition.  Faster than the previous year by a minute but the improvement would have been greater given the weather conditions and the fact that the course actually measured 91.8km rather than 90km (almost 2km longer than last year's event).  Those wheels seemed to do their job.

I spent a leisurely amount of time in T2, racking the bike, taking off helmet and changing shoes.  However I wasn't worried as my day was now over.  The important stuff was done and now I just had a 7km run do around the lake.

I started running and for about a kilometre all was good.  Then the course headed off the tarmac and started a 4km stretch off road around the back of the lake.  And it was not fun.  My head had finished for the day and a little voice that sounded awfully like Dave's was on my shoulder saying "just do 100m of the run if you want and then stop".

Why on earth did he have to give me that out?!

I plodded on, mostly walking around the back of the lake but not really caring, and thinking about various options.  I could stop, turn around and walk back.  I could finish the lap but skip the extra kilometre down the cul-de-sac just before the end of the lap.  Or I could stop being so pathetic and just do the whole lap as planned.

By the time I got back onto the tarseal I was starting to feel better and ended up completing the full lap, albeit in a very slow time of around 55 minutes.  That was fine, though, and I stopped running and handed in my timing chip.

All in all, then, it was a really successful day and plenty was learnt from it.

I was stoked with my swim.  Still slow but a definite improvement on last year and on target for a 1 hour 30 minute ironman swim (which I'd be really happy to achieve).

The first transition went perfectly and I was feeling really good there.

The bike was great, despite the conditions.  I didn't improve the time hugely but it does seem that the course was almost 2km longer than it should have been.  Also, the winds were stronger than last year and it was colder, so I expended a reasonable amount of energy staying warm and keeping the bike in a straight line.  That, and the fact that I was pushing my cadence pretty hard, contributed to me holding the aerobars in a death grip for a good portion of the ride - something I don't normally do.  As a result I ended up with a numb/tingly finger.  Something to remember for ironman - light hands on the aero bars and remember to move the hands and fingers around more.

Even better though, in my age group I was third fastest in T1 and third fastest in the bike leg.

Not that I'm competitive at all ... yeah right.

Auckland Marathon - But I'm on the Sidelines

One of my favorite events over the last few years has been the Auckland Marathon.  Well, the half marathon to be precise.  It's a scenic course that starts on the north shore in Devonport, winds its way over rolling terrain through the northern suburbs before providing a unique opportunity to run over the Auckland Harbour Bridge and finish almost in the heart of the CBD, at Victoria Park.

The event is becoming ever more popular and entries sold out in record time this year.  St Pete entered the full marathon and, instead of entering the half marathon for what would have been the fourth time, I was detailed to be support crew.

The reason for that is that, with just over 4 months to go to ironman, Coach Dave decided running a half marathon at this stage in the year would not be a good idea.  The logic behind this was similar to his instruction that I not complete the half ironman at Lake Hood next month. Basically the problem is with the recovery time from running those distances, which could compromise the quality of the rest of training at a time when I am starting to do some big distances on the bike and in the pool.

So I played support crew and Pete had a great day.  And it definitely felt good to see that two of our top ironmen, Jo Lawn and Terenzo Bozzone, were also on the sidelines for the event.  They were probably recovering from Kona but, I didn't mind, I was in good company!

It's Just a Training Day...

How innocently those five words were spoken, back in March.

We were sitting outside with Dave, my soon-to-be-ironman coach, talking about my goals for ironman and the sorts of things I could expect in the build-up.  The south island half ironman at Lake Hood, Ashburton, which had been such an achievement for me last year, was now being described by Dave as, "just a training day".  That certainly put some perspective on things.  Something that was such a big deal first time round was now being well and truly put into its place in the overall scheme of things.

However Dave wasn't finished.  Last week he reduced the significance of Lake Hood even more with the comment.....

(wait for it...)

"don't worry about finishing it"

What?

That's right, Dave doesn't care if I finish the half ironman.

After staring gape-mouthed at him for what seemed like an eternity, I returned my jaw to it's correct position and he tried to explain.  And it goes something like this...

The goal is ironman.  Everything else I am doing is only of importance in relation to its ability to prepare me to finish ironman.  The half ironman at Lake Hood is therefore simply an opportunity to practice a race day - do a good swim, practice a smooth transition from swim to bike, do a good bike leg and then another smooth transition from bike to run.  As far as the run is concerned, that is the leg that is really hard on your body and takes the longest to recover from.  It's the discipline that will tip you over the edge, so to speak.  So I can choose to do only one lap (of three) of the run and then pull out if I want.  I could even choose to do only 100m of the run and then stop - Dave wouldn't care.  What is important is that I don't want to be spending too much time recovering from that event as it could compromise the overall training regime in the remaining 15 weeks before Taupo.

Sounds perfectly fine in theory.  But let's just think about that for a little bit, and think about the psyche of a person that is going to complete ironman.

A successful ironman lives by hundreds of mantras that all focus on one premise:  DON'T QUIT.  My physical ability to complete ironman is overshadowed by my mental ability to get to the finish line, no matter the pain or the time it takes to get me there.  It's one of my strengths in climbing my particular ironman mountain.  A favourite saying for many who undertake endurance events like this is "pain is temporary, quitting is forever."  The whole idea of entering an event, then, and NOT finishing it seems like a complete psychological cop-out, at a time when mental toughness is one of the defining characteristics of success.

You might not be surprised, then, that I've been struggling with this suggestion!

Somehow I've got to get my head around the idea of starting the half ironman with the intention of NOT finishing.  I have to refocus my goals for the event.  Instead of aiming to finish in a better time than last year, I should be aiming to produce better splits for the swim and bike legs and achieve trouble-free transitions.  Hmm, again, easier said than done!

Thankfully it appears I'm not alone with this mental dilemma.  I relayed this to one who has many ironman friends and, after he stopped laughing, Stephen confirmed that he has many mates whose coaches go mad at them because, despite their best intentions, they haven't been able to pull out of the half ironman early into the run.

It just goes to show that the force of mind over matter is obviously a strong one, and it's one I'm going to have to do some serious work on over the coming few months...