Ironman New Zealand 2016 - Sh*t Happens

First of all, a disclaimer.  If you've found this post as the result of a Google or other internet search, in a quest for a race report on Ironman New Zealand, you've come to the wrong place.  But don't worry, your search has not been a complete waste.  If you're not fussy about years, I can give you plenty of reports on this wonderful event in a special part of the world.  If that's what you want, try my race reports from 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014 or 2015.

This post, although titled Ironman New Zealand 2016, is more about the lemons life sometimes throws you and a reminder that, above all else, what happens to you is not important.  What's important is how you react to it and being thankful for the silver linings.

Because there are always silver linings.

2016 was to have been my 6th time at Ironman New Zealand, starting the homeward journey to legend status at this event (10 IMNZ finishes required), and 11th ironman overall.  However on 31 January 2016 life decided to throw me a curveball and so, as the race unfolds tomorrow in beautiful Taupo, I will be at home in Sydney, streaming it live and cheering on all my friends, while nursing a busted up leg.

Yep, shit happens.

The story starts 5 weeks ago.  I was into my final big block of training and 5km into a 120km TT ride when fate intervened.  It was early morning and, with the sun in his eyes, a driver made a split second error of judgement and failed to give way to me, making a right hand turn across the road into a driveway.  I was in aero, doing about 28kmph, watching him approach from the other direction.   As I rode I kept watching, looking for indications that he had seen me as he slowed down and pulled into the right hand turn lane.  I was in a bike lane, he was turning into a driveway and simply needed to stop for 5 seconds while I passed.  However, just as I was virtually parallel to him, he accelerated to complete the turn, by which time I had nowhere to go and no time to stop.  The front of the vehicle hit me side on, Black Beauty sliding under the vehicle as he screeched to a stop.  Thankfully I somehow unclipped from the bike and went over the bonnet, landing on the road a couple of metres away.

The pain in both my knees hit me instantly and I was stopped dead on the ground, breathing hard through the intense pain and wishing like hell the adrenaline would kick in quicker.  Almost immediately there were people around me, stopping to help, including Alice, who would stay by my side, directing the others to find blankets for me, keeping me still, talking to me and not letting me close my eyes.  As I was perched on the ground I could see Black Beauty on her side, under the wheels of the SUV, and I was immediately thankful for the first silver lining of the day.

Much as I loved her, I was so glad it was Black Beauty under there rather than me.

A quick phone call to Pete was in order, giving him the news that no triathlete's or cyclist's partner wants to hear, that I had been hit by a car.  As I lay on the ground, looking at Black Beauty still under the car, I promised my saint that I was "OK", (well, OK enough to speak rationally to him and convince him that he didn't need to try and get out to the accident scene - made more difficult given I had taken the car), and this brought about the second and third silver linings of the day.

Yes, my face was fine (not smashed up) and not much in the way of gravel rash, including none on the hands for this non-glove wearer when TT riding. My knees definitely took the fall on this one!

The phone, that had been in the FuelCell on the bike, came through completely unscathed.  Big ups to its LifeProof case!

It was established early on that I had a significant laceration to my left knee but everyone was also concerned about any spinal injuries or concussion. And so when the ambulance arrived it was all about pain relief (which also helped the shaking I was doing now that the shock had set in) and putting me into a neck brace and onto a spinal board for the trip to hospital.

Drugs had kicked in - getting bored with the phone!

Once in hospital I had a full assessment - x-rays to check for broken bones and spinal damage and neurological tests to check for concussion.  By this stage Alice had gone and found the car and brought it and the wrecked bike to the hospital, and found Pete, who had also made his way to the hospital.  She had gone above and beyond that day and I will always be grateful to her and the others who stopped to help a fellow cyclist by the side of the road.

Alice is racing Ironman New Zealand tomorrow - her first ironman and hopefully the first of many!

After all the tests came back it looked like the main concern was the laceration to the knee.  So the ED Registrar stitched me up and sent me home with scripts for painkillers and instructions to see my GP on Tuesday for a follow up and to check they hadn't missed anything....hmmm...if only they knew what they missed!  But no matter, more silver linings were all we could think of at the time.

No broken bones, no concussion.

Before ...

...and after. The Registrar's handy work.

At that point and for the next 24 hours my spirits were pretty high.  Yes, the next morning I literally knew what it felt like "to be hit by a bus", as the bruising started making itself felt - everywhere.  But there was still 5 weeks to IMNZ and if the stitched knee was the only thing I needed to worry about then there was every chance I could still make the start line - even if it was minus the final solid set of training.  And even though it was unlikely Black Beauty would be travelling anywhere soon, I already had the alternative worked out.  My trusty Avanti, who had seen me through my first couple of years of ironman, could easily be set up again to make the trip.

IM #11 was not yet derailed.

By the time I went to my GP on Tuesday, though, a small red flag was waving.  My right knee, which had been virtually ignored by the hospital, was giving me grief big time.  While I could walk on it, any twisting caused intense pain and a feeling that it would give way.  Something wasn't right and my GP immediately sent me off for an MRI.  She knew what I was up against - she had already felt it necessary to tell me to stay out of the pool until the stitches were out!  And while I waited until the end of the week for the results to come through I was crossing my fingers that the results would simply show a bad wrenching of the knee that we could intensively rehab over the coming weeks.  That optimism was buoyed by the fact that walking did seem to improve slightly over the next few days - surely that meant it was getting better?

My world came crashing down, though, that next visit when my GP's first words were "it's not good unfortunately".  While I hadn't broken any bones I had instead managed to tear or partially tear three of the four ligaments in my knee.  The ACL (anterior cruciate ligament) was gone, the PCL (posterior cruciate ligament) was partially torn and the MCL (medial collateral ligament, the ligament that runs down the inside of the knee) was torn.

There was no way around it - Ironman New Zealand was out.

An immediate referral to a surgeon was the next step and while the tissue box took a hammering the next couple of days I immediately looked to take something positive out of the situation.  I didn't know much about ligament injuries but knew that ACL tears tend to require surgery and a pretty significant rehab time.  The ligament can't just be sutured together, rather it needs to be reconstructed, commonly via a transplant from the hamstring.  However more than just the ACL was involved here and I really didn't know what to think, but needed to take some positive action in the meantime. And that first focus was sorting out my ironman entry.

Thanks to a new initiative being piloted by Ironman Asia Pacific, I was able to transfer my New Zealand entry fee to Ironman Western Australia  in December and so this became my new focus.  My surgeon didn't yet know it but he would have a deadline and I would do everything I could to be able to get to the start line.

15 days after the accident I was sitting in Dr Robert Molnar's rooms while he and his intern pored over the MRI scans and examined the state of both my knees.  The verdict was a bitter pill to swallow.  I had definitely made a mess of my right knee and he was able to confirm the original report of full tears to the ACL and MCL and a partial tear to the PCL.  In fact he wasn't sure how I was managing to walk on the leg at all.  I guess my fitness and strength were carrying me through.  Even worse, was his caution about Ironman Western Australia.

"I don't know if 10 months is going to be long enough to get you ready to run the marathon" is not something this irongirl was interested in hearing.  "What if I walk it?" was my response.  "I don't care if I get to the start of the marathon and have to walk most of it - I just need this goal to be able to focus on."  Hmm, determined, much?!

Not only this, though, there was his view about the MCL repair.  Apparently there is a window of about 2 weeks in order to successfully repair it.  And here we were, 2 weeks and 1 day post-accident.  With no time on our side, he disappeared out the room to see what could be done.  5 minutes (and a couple of tissues) later his nurse comes in, exclaiming that "this must be important, he normally wouldn't do this".  Schedules had been pushed aside and I was booked into surgery 48 hours later for a multi-ligament knee reconstruction.

Whoa - wasn't expecting that.

The next couple of days were chaotic.  It would be fair to say that no one was accustomed to planning for surgery this quickly outside an emergency department, including the driver's insurance company who were supposedly paying for this.  While they complained about not having enough time to approve the claim, and refused to do so in time, we resigned ourselves to having the surgery delayed a week. However Dr Molnar wasn't keen on delaying and after much mucking around I was finally wheeled into surgery, as planned, on Wednesday evening, 17 February - 17 days post-accident.

Day 1 post-surgery - the only way now is up.

So here I now am, just over 2 weeks after surgery - an operation that required 3 hours under the knife to fix what was apparently quite a mess in there.  I have a leg brace I call Boris that is my constant companion until the end of this month and several months of rehab in front of me in order to regain mobility and strength in my right leg and then the fitness and endurance that I am currently losing slowly but surely.

I haven't been able to take part in Ironman New Zealand this year and that was the most upsetting news to deal with (even more than the accident itself).  But once I came through the surgery all of that disappointment left me and my mindset switched.  My whole focus is, and can only be, on recovery and rehabilitation and successfully getting myself back to the ironman start line, whether it be Western Australia in December or New Zealand next March (Dr Molnar's preference for me).

And while there are plenty of lemons in this story and plenty of reasons for tears, the silver linings far outweigh them all.  Besides those I've already listed above:

• It didn't happen just before Kona.  My once in a lifetime Kona dream didn't get derailed and so even if the worst case scenario happens, and I end up not completing another ironman, my Kona finish will always be with me, as will all 10 ironman finishes.  That is far from being a likely scenario at the moment though.
• The driver admitted liability straight away.  Yes he made a mistake, but he stayed around after the accident and admitted liability to the cops at the outset.  We've been in touch since and he's apologised profusely, which is never easy to do, and so I feel no bitterness towards him.
• The driver was fully insured.  His motor vehicle insurance should replace the bike and his compulsory third party insurance is covering my medical costs.  Imagine if he had been driving an unregistered, uninsured car.
• I'm still here to tell the story.   It could have been much, much worse and this, by far, is the most important silver lining.

Ultimately this should simply be a small hiccup along my ironman journey.  A journey that is far from dull and never predictable.  And for that I am truly grateful.

Yes, shit happens to all of us.  But part of the trick to getting through this life happy is rolling with the punches and getting back up again.  Whether it's looking for the positives, or learning from the experience, it's all about how you choose to react to the shit that gets thrown at you.

And whether it be in December this year or March next year, I plan to deal with this shit by doing everything I can to race again.

Ironman Western Australia 2015 - A milestone is reached.

"Sorry D - There's no technique happening here."

This was my silent message to coach as I swam, or was that bashed, my way through what was supposed to be an idyllic swim around the historic Busselton Jetty in the 2015 edition of  Ironman Western Australia.  My 10th ironman and you'd think by now I had experienced it all.

As if.

This was our first time to "Busso" and I was excited to be sharing the week with St Pete and the rest of the crew from Team Evolve in Christchurch - Greg, Marie and of course Coach Dave.  We had flown in the weekend before and spent an idyllic 7 days exploring the region and putting the final touches on our prep for the race (a.k.a. drinking lots of coffee, doing the odd swim, bike and run, and generally putting our feet up!).

St Pete had been tracking the weather forecast for race day and it looked a bit wet but it was something I wasn't interested in focusing on. After all, you can't control the uncontrollable and you've just got to deal with the conditions handed to you.  And hey, this is Western Australia in December - practically the middle of summer!  Plus we'd had beautiful weather all week - what could go wrong?

Our race director, however, wasn't so blasé. 

At the welcome dinner we had an update from him and it's never good when they start talking about contingency plans for the swim!  30-40kmph SW winds were forecast (plus rain) and so we were shown the alternative swim course should it be too rough to let us go around the jetty.  This course would be a triangle to the north of the jetty, using the structure to shelter us.  And if it was too bad to swim then they would cancel the swim leg and we'd be doing a bike/run only.  The only thing to do then was trust in the swim course director - they would make the call at sunrise and place the buoys accordingly.

Race morning: 3.00am alarm and I lie awake listening to the downpour outside.  Drat, we're in for a bit of a wet day by the sounds of things...

Undeterred though, we all head down and it's heartening to have the rain stopped by the time we get into transition to do final checks on our bikes.  At sunrise the buoys go out on the course and it doesn't look too bad out there.  The original course around the jetty is set up and by 5.30am we are wetsuited up, saying our final goodbyes to supporters and heading down to the water.  

The swim course at Busso has to be the easiest to navigate on the ironman circuit.  The jetty itself is 1.8km long (its claim to fame is as the longest wooden piled jetty in the Southern Hemisphere) and so you literally swim around it, keeping it on your left all the way.  With a slight right hand bend in it as well, all we had to do was stand on the beach and line up the far end of the jetty, swim towards it and then go around the two turn buoys, each located about 50m out from the end of it, 200m apart.

The start gun went off and we had the usual mass start chaos while we all found our space and settled into actual swimming.  After around 400m I was in a happy spot - I had found some feet to follow and had stopped needing to elbow and generally push people off me.  Despite the recent rain and generally grey day the water was still crystal clear and would be all the way round and so it was cool to look at the ocean floor below and spot the fish life, including a stingray as we swam.

As we headed out it started getting noticeably rougher, but nothing too concerning.  The swell was coming from the south (left hand side) and I had to start changing my breathing to one side. Surprisingly, though, if I breathed away from the swell I was invariably getting a mouthful of water and so I actually ended up breathing towards the swell. (I think what was happening is that I was able to better time my breaths for the top of a wave by turning towards it, whereas when I turned away I invariably ended up not timing it so well, because I couldn't see the wave coming, and so would end up getting a mouthful of water).

We made good progress to the end of the jetty - despite the waves it was easy sighting and once we got to the end we finally saw the first purple turn buoy.  At that point everyone converged again and I lost the feet I was following, however that would be the least of my worries.

As I turned around the buoy and started heading towards the second turn buoy it was like I had suddenly turned into a raging storm.  The wind was coming straight at us, the waves were coming straight at us and sea spray was being blown off the tops of the waves.  It would have been an impressive sight if I didn't have to swim through it!  

Undeterred however, I carried on.  There were swim caps around me and that provided plenty of reassurance that I was doing OK.  At the second turn buoy, and over half way, I took my first glance at my watch - 42 minutes.  Wicked - on track for sub 1:30 and I was more than happy with that.

Except the wind gods had other ideas.

Heading back down the south side of the jetty We got to experience the full effects of the sou'wester coming through and I suddenly realised how much shelter the jetty had been providing us on the other side!  Heading home became a bash fest as I tried to go with the swell and chop as much as possible while maintaining some semblance of forward motion.  All technique went out the window (sorry coach!) and one-sided breathing continued to be the order of the day, except this time I had to switch to the sheltered side to breathe.  There was no way I could get away with trying to breathe towards the wind - it was blowing water straight into my face that side.  Following feet also became a challenge. I'd latch onto a pair and then they'd suddenly disappear as they or I got swept in a different direction by the turbulent waters.  In the end it took 8 minutes longer to do the shorter return leg and I finally got out of the water at 1:32.  Middle of my age group though and, considering the conditions, I was super happy with it.

At the awards dinner the following evening the swim course director would describe the swim leg as the toughest in the 12 years of this race and 47 people would either pull out or not make the intermediate swim cut off (at the end of the jetty).

Epic.

Out of T1 then and it was time to take on the bike course.  2 laps of flat roads and I had coach's words ringing in my ears.

Be patient.

The winds were still up and so I knew we would be in for challenging conditions - and I wasn't disappointed.  What I hadn't counted on, though, was how tired my shoulders would be from the swim.  They had taken a hammering and they had no problems telling me so as soon as I started settling into aero.  The first 10km out of town, though, was a good time to let things settle down, stay patient, and get some calories in.  We had a tailwind going out and so I made the most of it and posted a good split without going too mad.

The design of the course is such that there are a stack of out and back sections and all pretty much in line with the day's winds.  So I had the reassurance of knowing that if things were going hard one way I'd be able to recover a bit as soon as we started going the other way.  Being a flat course also had its benefits (and downsides).  No hills to contend with (yippee), but no respite from being down in aero either.  That was OK though - I had trained for it and was surprised at the number of people I would see up on the bars, obviously needing to give their backs a bit of a break.

I finished the first half of the bike in 3 hours 6 minutes.  A pretty good time for the conditions and it would normally set me up nicely for a strong finish.  In the end I lost an additional 9 minutes on the second lap, and rolled into T2 with a bike split of 6:21.  I had stayed strong and steady and so wasn't unhappy with where things were at that point, but glad to have just the run left to do and 8 hours 5 minutes elapsed so far in what had been tough conditions.

As I walked out of T2 to start the run I saw St Pete and gave him a quick hug and high five as I went past, relaying my relief at getting through so far.  

Little did we know but that broad smile of mine was about to disappear down a big black hole for the next six and a half hours.

The run leg is a 4 lap out and back course along the Busselton waterfront.  Flat terrain and plenty of opportunities for crowd support all along the way.  My plan was to take it steady, start out easy and settle into a good rhythm that I could maintain to the end.  Ideally I would only be walking through the aid stations and running the rest of the distance.

At just over 8 hours I knew my "A" goal of a sub-13 hour finish was going to be touch and go.  My best IM marathons had been 5:19-5:31 but they were on undulating/hilly courses (NZ and Kona).  My fresh marathon PB is 4:28 and so on a good day it was theoretically possible on this flat course.  I was determined not to stress about it though - focus on getting into a steady rhythm and just take it one aid station at a time and see how it plays out.

Unfortunately, though, it wasn't to be and the wheels started falling off pretty dramatically from the start.

I didn't panic initially - I knew that I always took a good 5km to get going properly and so during the first lap I stayed patient and did a bit of walking, a bit of running, took in watermelon and Endura at the aid stations to keep the hydration up, and waited to come right.

And waited.

And waited.

By the time I got onto my second lap I pretty much knew the day was over.  I was walking more than I was running and getting frustrated with my inability to get going.  At the end of the second lap I took a couple of minutes on the sidelines to regroup with St Pete (a first) and then got going again.  During the third lap I could also feel that my stomach was starting to shut down and so tried to be a bit more selective about the nutrition I took on board.  Less of the watermelon, less water, less Endura - the wind was also pretty chilly in places and with me walking more than I was running I didn't want to fall into the trap of over hydration alongside a lower sweat rate.

At the beginning of the 4th and final lap St Pete suggested I try some cola at the next aid station and so I duly took a sip....and instantly regretted it.

A wave of nausea washed over me and next thing I was bent over by the side of the course wanting desperately to throw up, but not able to.  (Another first!)  After a couple of minutes I got going again but it must have been painful for St Pete to watch - I was not in a happy place at all and, for the first time ever, was questioning the continuation of my ironman career. Yep, it was that bad.

Despite my doldrums though, there was never any question of giving up.  I had time and managed to summons the energy to run the last 500m to the finish, crossing the line in 14:34:59.

For this event we had decided to try out a new initiative offered by Ironman, their VIP Finish Line Experience.  For this, Pete got to wait for me behind the finish line and present me with my medal and towel.  Given the day I had just been through I couldn't think of a more welcome sight to have when I crossed that finish line - in fact he was more important to me at that point than the day's women's pro winner, Sarah Piampiano, who was also standing there handing out medals to finishers!

So, Ironman #10 done, and the sea conditions, nausea and run ensured a completely different experience to the previous 9.  Who would have thought that possible???

Do I know what happened out there (apart from having a shocking run)?  No.  But that is one of the joys of the sport - the endless quest to solve the mysteries and never knowing what's going to get thrown at you next.  The next few days will be spent reflecting and analysing parts of the race with Coach Dave and trying to piece together the vital missing element(s).  Whether it was the prep, the saltwater/sea conditions, the nutrition or some other as yet unidentified issue, the analyst in me won't rest until I come up with some  semi-logical explanation.

And then we'll be working at putting that particular issue to rest so that it has less chance of impacting my next race - Ironman New Zealand 2016.  

Yep, I still have a sub-13 hour finish in my sights and the desire to never do another ironman didn't last long!  Plus there's definitely unfinished business with Busso...

Ironman New Zealand 2015 - Set to be Another Unique Adventure

Well this is it - 1 sleep to go and we'll be back on the start line of another fantastic Ironman New Zealand adventure.

And despite this being IM #9 for me, this one will be no carbon copy of any before.  

Recovery Post-Kona - The Longest Ever?

This tweet popped up on my feed about three weeks ago and what a welcome sight it was!  

I knew that I would need to take time to recover from Kona ... and three ironmans in one year ... 

But I didn't expect to still be actively managing my fatigue levels into January.  

Kona 2014 - Reflections on the Race of a Lifetime

It's good to be back home. Rested and now finally in my off-season, I've had a chance to gather my thoughts, spend some quality time with St Pete and reflect on Kona and the experience it was.

Finishing Kona was more than just finishing another ironman.  Or finishing ironman #8.  The lasting memory is that it feels like I have come of age as a triathlete.

Kona 2014 - Ironman World Championships Race Report

The day was finally here.

Seven months ago Mike Reilly had called out my name in the Ironman New Zealand Loyalty Lottery Draw, giving me the amazing opportunity to race in Kona, at the Ironman World Championships.

This was a dream come true, and around 4 years earlier than originally planned.  As a regular age-grouper with no particular athletic talent, apart from a passion for cycling and the ability to tough it out for hours on end, I had been working towards a Kona legacy lottery slot.  That, however, was now out the window (you are ineligible for the legacy lottery if you have raced Kona before) and I couldn't be happier.

Or more scared.

The training through winter had been tough - especially the swimming.  Normally my focused training finishes in June with Ironman Cairns and I haven't tended to do much swimming over the winter months.  I couldn't get away with that this year though.  Outdoor pools in Sydney are heated for winter training but, with my reduced body fat for insulation, long sets had me suffering big time in the relative cold. Those challenges and the length of my extended training season overall this year had me more than a little nervy by the time I reached taper and at times questioning my ability to get the job done in respectable fashion.

The nerves vanished, however, as soon as we touched down in Kona.

I was in a happy place mentally and it was almost as if I had arrived where I belonged.  Coach Dave saw us at the airport, took one look at me and pronounced me ready.  And I knew he was right.  I had one goal and that was to finish.  No time expectations.  No placing expectations.

I was simply going to get out there, experience the race of a lifetime in the birthplace of ironman and get the job done.

The evening before race day, walking along Ali'i Drive, I commented to Coach Dave that there must surely be something wrong.  I had no real pre-race nerves, no butterflies in my stomach or other typical nervous symptoms.  Instead I felt calm, confident (even still a little excited) and ready to go.  I just hoped that this wasn't me being too blasé and over confident as that was surely a recipe for disaster. Nerves are a natural and common feeling leading into the start and show that you are giving the race the respect it deserves. Dave reminded me, though, that I had been meticulous and thorough in my planning and had checked everything off since we had arrived in Kona.  From his perspective, then, I was in the best place possible and as a coach he couldn't be happier about my preparation.

With those wise words then there was nothing left to do but get a good night's sleep and be ready for a long, tough day.

Saturday, 11 October 2014.  

Race Day.  

The alarm went off at 4.00am and St Pete started getting my scrambled eggs cooked while I got ready.  Breakfast done we strolled down to the pier and met up with Coach Dave and dad at dad's hotel.  Downtown Kona had meanwhile transformed into a hive of activity and people were everywhere.  Somewhere we had to find body marking and drop off my special foods bags.  These would be taken to midway points on the bike and run and we could put any food or drink we might want to have at those points.  In my bike special foods I had put three chiller packs in with a bottle of my sports drink and a container with a couple of wrapped cheese and cracker combos - some extra fat and savoury taste to contrast the sweet foods I had already loaded on the bike.  In the run special foods bag I had just put a couple of date bars in, in the unlikely event I was hanging out for some real food.  Really unlikely but best to be prepared!

Amongst the throngs of people we tried to figure out where to go and this part of the day ended up being the only aspect that could be faulted in the ironman organizational machine.  For first time Kona athletes there was no clear signage, maps or instruction provided showing where to go.  Somehow we managed to find ourselves at the wrong end of the body marking then weighing process.  I got directions to find the right spot to go to but in the process completely missed passing or seeing the vans taking in the special food bags.

I therefore went through body marking (it seems we can't be trusted to apply our own race numbers to our arms properly, unlike at IM New Zealand and IM Cairns, and so must stand in lengthy queues on race morning to first get our race number tattoo and then queue again to have it applied), weigh in and finally went through to the transition area to sort out the bike.  Prior to going through to transition I had said my farewells to St Pete and Dad as at race briefing we were told we couldn't then go back out.  It turned out that wasn't the case but I wasn't to know that at the time.  Tyres pumped up, Garmin 810 locked in and drinks loaded I headed out to the athletes' coralling area, still with my special foods bags and no idea where to drop them off.

After asking a number of volunteers and getting no useful response I finally found someone who was able to tell me that those bags were actually supposed to be handed in at the trucks situated prior to body marking.

Sigh.

Thankfully Coach Dave was with me - he had been able to come in by virtue of the media pass he held and so took my bags off me, said his goodbyes and disappeared back to the parking lot to drop them off.

That whole exercise, then, was pretty shambolic and had the potential to be unnecessarily stressful.  I wasn't too fazed by it all though - still in my happy place and just after Dave left the starting cannon went off, indicating the start of the pro men's field.  That signalled time for me to get my swim skin on and hand in my final gear bag.  A quick dip in the water and I was ready.

The race this year was started in four waves - the pro men went off first at 6.30 am, followed by the pro women, age group men and lastly the age group women would start at 7.00am.  We age group women were held on the pier to let the age group men all get out to the start line and then once they started we were able to get in and swim the 100m or so to the start.  

It was an amazing feeling to be floating in the water waiting for the starting cannon.  Here I was at the world champs, about to have the day of my life.

Boom.

And we were off.  600 or so women - the largest ever women's field and the highest percentage ever at Kona.  I started stroking, nice and easily, looking to get into a steady rhythm early on and find someone's feet to draft off.  Typically the start of an ironman swim is a bit of a bash fest and I have sometimes had to focus on not hyperventilating or getting too physically stressed at the outset.  No problems this time around.  While there were plenty of girls around me I didn't have anyone trying to swim over the top of me and didn't have to defend my position in the water.  I was feeling pretty calm and relaxed then and was able to get into a steady pace straight away.

There was a fair bit of swell out there and so things were a bit lumpy and we got thrown around a bit.  I managed to stay in close proximity to feet virtually all the way out to the Body Glove boat, which marked the turnaround point, and also managed to entertain myself with fish gazing as we went along - always a welcome distraction!

I went around the turnaround point with a couple of other girls and we started heading back to the pier together.  I ended up in the middle and we formed a single line working our way back to shore.  The girl I was following was going a little bit slower than I was able to do and every so often I'd be hitting her foot with my hand (and every so often the girl behind me would hit my feet also).  But I was feeling comfortable and decided it was more important to conserve my energy for the bike and run, and so elected to let her drag me back to the shore.  I did try a couple of times to go wide and see if I would be better to go past. However both times I ended up back on her feet as there was no one else in close proximity I could find to latch onto (probably left that run a bit too late!).

I came out of the water feeling really good - hadn't expended much energy at all and was still feeling good and fresh for the bike.  The time was 1:49:48, about 10 minutes slower than I had anticipated, however the after-race consensus seems to be that swim times were generally slower as a result of the swell.  

Ultimately though I was out of the water and so a happy camper!

I headed through the showers, grabbed my bag and ran into the changing tent.  There one of the amazing volunteers helped me out of my swim skin but in the process also pulled off my timing chip.  Because it had been safety-pinned (as recommended so we didn't risk losing it in the water) I lost about a minute while she struggled to slide it back up over my foot - but that's OK, this wasn't about getting an awesome time!

Bike shoes and sunglasses on, I ran out of the tent, got sunscreen slathered all over me by more awesome volunteers and then did the long run around the outside of the pier to where Black Beauty was waiting for me in the racks.

Helmet on and we were away, ready to face whatever the lava fields and Madame Pele had in store for us.

Before we reached the lava fields on the Queen K Highway though, there were a couple of shortish loops through town.  The first one headed to the north of town, up to the Queen K and then back down Palani Rd, a reasonably short but sharp hill which had been declared a no passing zone.  At the bottom was a 90 degree corner (called "hot corner") where we headed south along the Kuakini Highway, a gradual but consistent 3km climb back up to the Queen K again.  At that intersection we did a U-turn and came back down Kuakini to hot corner, this time taking a right and heading up Palani Rd.

Coming down Kuakini was fantastic - an exhilarating downhill and I made the most of it.  Big chainring, this is what I live for!  As I came up to hot corner I knew to drop down quickly into the little chainring and bottom gear for an easy spin up Palani.  Rounding the corner I looked up and saw St Pete on the island in the middle, looking out for me with camera at the ready.  There was a big crowd there as well and an announcer calling our names through so the atmosphere was fantastic.  I gave Pete (and the crowd) a happy fist pump and proceeded to spin my way up Palani.

At the top of Palani we turned left onto the Queen K and this is where the real work would begin.

The first stretch went really well.  I was in a good rhythm, good cadence and heart rate well under control.  It was warm but nothing I couldn't cope with and the winds hadn't arrived.

To get through the bike I had one plan to focus on.  Nutrition, Hydration, Body Temperature.  At every aid station I maintained the same routine: grab bottle of iced water.  Top up water on bike then tip the rest of the bottle all over me, making sure I drenched my helmet, head, neck, shoulders and front. If bananas were on offer then I would pick one up also and have that.  At 15min intervals my Garmin would beep and that was my cue to have a date bar or some dehydrated banana.  And in between all that I would sip on my electrolyte bottle and more water.

That would be the routine for 180km.  

At the 48km mark the wind started.  And started big time.  Madame Pele made her presence known and it was like she had saved her best for us!  We started getting headwinds that also gusted into side winds and people were hanging onto their handlebars for dear life.  At about this time we started to see the leading male pros coming back from Hawi and they would have been enjoying the tailwind that we were now battling to get through.

From the 48km mark through to Hawi (at around 100km) it was a case of keeping the bike upright and just hanging in there.  All through this I managed to stay down on my aero bars.  Others around me were up on their handlebars/top of their drops but I figured I was better to stay low and out of the wind as much as possible and I think it paid off for me in the long run.  Staying down, although freaky at times, also made me a little bit more stable as it lowered my centre of gravity if I got blown around.  All those hours of TT riding was paying off as I feel almost as confident controlling the bike on the aeros as I do on top of the drops.

After 4 hours of riding I finally completed the ride north and arrived in Hawi for the turnaround.  Unbelievably the headwind had added the best part of an hour to my bike split so far - surely I would benefit from some tailwind to go with the initial descent back to the Queen K...

Unfortunately it was not to be.

I had been warned about the tendency of the wind to turn and turn it did.

I stopped at the special needs station at Hawi and picked up my cheese snacks and swapped over my electrolyte bottle.  Scoffing one of the cheese snacks I put the other in my back pocket to have later and carried on, looking forward to getting some speed up on the downhill back to Kawaihai.

This section was another blast, like the stretch on Kuakini Highway at the beginning, but faster, longer and more fun!  It also kept me on my toes as I was still being caught by crosswinds which, at 60kmph, can throw you across the road pretty quickly if you don't have your wits about you.  I was in my big chainring, largest gear, trying to gain as much time as possible but balance that against staying upright. At times I'd have to freewheel and stand on the pedals but just hover millimeters off the seat so that my centre of gravity stayed down by the pedals but my body was still in as aero position as possible.

At Kawaihai we turned right back onto the Queen K and the long stretch through the lava fields back to Kona.  Along here the crosswinds continued to play havoc and it also seemed as though the wind had indeed turned and was still predominantly against me rather than with me.

There was nothing else to do, then, but keep my head down, keep my cadence high and stay on top of my nutrition, body temperature and hydration.

At one point I saw a road sign saying "Kona 31".  Great, I thought, just over an hour to go.  The next second I was cursing - of course it was 31 miles, so closer to 50km and 2 hours of riding!

All through that time my mind was fully entertained.  If I wasn't thinking about food and water I would be assessing my progress, running a physical stocktake in my mind and occasionally checking out the scenery.  In between those times I also had another distraction in the form of the song "Freaks" by Timmy Trumpet + Savage running on repeat inside my head.  We had been using it as our wake up alarm song each morning since our arrival in Kona and so now, on the bike, when my mind started getting quiet, the base and the tweeters would make those speakers go to war...  

I can think of worse things to have playing in my head while going to war on the Queen K!

7 hours and 21 minutes after leaving T1 I rolled into T2.  This was a good hour longer than I had anticipated, however given I had seen one girl lying on the side of the road with her bike in the ditch and had subsequently heard other reports of people getting blown off their bikes, I was well happy to have made it back in one piece and had only one thing on my mind.

The bike was later described by those with long term Kona experience as being the toughest for wind in many, many years.  But all I was thinking about now was heading out for a little run.

I was feeling good and despite the extended time out there wasn't overly tired. I had remained conservative on the bike, remained patient and didn't let the slow time get me down.  After all this was still Kona and I was on the final leg of completing this amazing event!

After changing shoes, changing headwear and putting on my race number and the Garmin 910 I jogged out to start the run course, high fiving St Pete and dad along the way.

Dad gets a high-five as I start the run

The run headed up to hot corner then took a right turn along Kuakini Highway before dropping back down to Ali'i Drive. From there we would head south along Ali'i Drive for approx 8km before turning back and retracing our steps to hot corner.  At hot corner it would be a right hand turn up Palani Road and then left onto the Queen K.  Out on the Queen K we would run north towards the airport but turn left just short of the airport and head into the Energy Lab where we would head down towards the ocean and then hang a right to the far end turnaround point.  At the turnaround point we would retrace our steps back up to the Queen K, right onto Palani, down the hill, left at hot corner before dropping back down to Ali'i Drive.  At Ali'i Drive we would turn right for the final 1km glory stretch to the finish chute and permanent glory!

My plan for this leg was all about running from aid station to aid station, staying cool and not aggravating my stomach.  At this point solid food was out and I would be aiming to take in liquids only. To stay cool the plan was to put ice inside my cap at each aid station and I had also received a tip about putting ice in the two back pockets of my Tri suit - this location keeps your kidneys cool, which also helps with keeping my thermoregulation under control.

I started out nice and slow, as per the plan, and simply focused on trying to get into a good rhythm and make it to the first aid station (they were stationed every mile along the course).  I wasn't feeling too bad, however having a climb to do to get to hot corner is never my favorite thing to do in the first kilometre of a run!  In hindsight it also took me a little while to get my core body temperature down, which couldn't and didn't happen until I had passed the first aid station and loaded up with ice.

At around the 5km mark though I started to come right.  I was making steady progress, not feeling too hot and running around 7min per kilometre.  I was happy with that pace and thought if I could stay around there for the duration I'd be doing really well.

The only thing giving me a bit of grief since the start of the run were my quads.  They were giving me some sharp feedback with every step but I was used to worse (thinking back to their extreme complaints in my first marathon) so I was able to pretty much ignore that discomfort.

Finally we were heading up Palani Rd towards the Queen K and while I walked up (yes, most people did and for me it was a "coach-sanctioned" walk!) I put my mind towards the next section of the run.  The Queen K would be pretty lonely as not many spectators get out there, it was getting dark but this was the business end of the day and I was going to do this.

Not that it was getting any easier!

My legs were still complaining and so as I reached the halfway mark I gave myself a little pep talk.  Checking my progress I had taken about 2 hours 40 minutes to do 21km and if I could maintain the goal of only walking the aid stations then I could PB the marathon.  I couldn't remember completing an ironman marathon in under 6 hours and here I was on target for a split time of 5 hours something. 

So much for not having any time expectations, but at this point it was the motivation I needed.  

The other internal conversation I was having was about backing myself.  Come on, I was thinking, the faster you run, the quicker this is over and done with.  I knew I had it in me to maintain a higher intensity and so I had a go at picking up the pace with the only goal of keeping it up only until the next aid station.

By this time it was pitch black out there.  The aid stations were like brightly lit beacons in the distance and you could just make out the white line on the side of the road and the glow sticks of the runners around me.  The orange road cones were pretty much invisible until you were about a metre away from them and so it became a task in itself to trust your footstep in the dark and look out for road cones and other runners.

At each aid station I would walk and put another batch of ice in my cap and in my pockets then take in a sip of water, electrolyte, cola and/or the warm chicken broth that came out after it got dark.  And at some aid stations I took a sip of all four drink options!  As it got dark I wondered if I still needed the ice and so elected not to refill the cap. That, however turned out to be not such a good idea and by the time I got to the next aid station I was hanging out for more ice.  

I didn't make that mistake again!

There was one exception made to the no food rule when I came across an aid station in the energy lab which was serving cups of grapes.  They looked great and I took a cup only to inadvertently tip them all out on the ground 10m later while refilling my cap with ice.  Totally gutted, I turned to look back at the aid station with thoughts of going back for more, but decided against it - the turnaround was not far ahead and I could get some on my way back.  

And I did.  

And they were a great pick me up to start the journey back to the finish.  It's the simple things that count!

The turnaround in the energy lab was a real highlight.  I was in good spirits and still maintaining a good pace in between aid stations.  At 30km, rather than "hit the wall" as can be common at that point my mindset was "OK, just another 12km to go, we can do this".  My quads were still complaining but they hadn't got any worse and, in fact by this stage, it was less painful if I ran a little bit faster and the worst part was actually starting to run again after walking the aid station!

Heading up the last hill to the turn onto Palani and I was still feeling good - I might not have been running fast but I was feeling strong and totally focused on finishing.  The turn onto Palani was one of the best feelings, although it didn't last long!  It was literally all downhill from here and only around 2km to go.  However running down was really sore on the quads.  But I kept my mind on the finish and didn't let up. Turning into hot corner and then coming down to Ali'i Drive the crowds were back again and you could feel their energy. I was almost home and as I turned onto Ali'i I was able to imagine what the race winners were feeling.  

That last kilometre, the glory run, was very cool and I didn't slow down.  As I reached the start of the finish chute I started looking for St Pete and dad as they were going to have the NZ and silver fern flags for me to run in with.  The crowds were so thick, though, it was difficult to make anyone out and I remember thinking that I hoped I would find them before I reached the finish ramp - I wasn't about to stop to look for them!

About 50m from the end I saw it.

Dad was holding the silver fern flag out in the finish chute and St Pete was standing next to him.  He had the NZ flag but I didn't see it.  Instead I grabbed the silver fern flag, held it behind me with both hands in the air and did the most joyful and energetic 50m run to the finish as Mike Reilly called me over the line.

Ironman World Championships in Kona - DONE!

Kona 2014 - Day 7 Update

Tuesday of ironman week and this would turn out to be one of the busiest days of our trip so far.  I haven't been too successful with getting some down time but wasn't stressing out too much about that just yet.

The day started out with a ride with the IMTalk taper camp crew out to the airport.  I had ridden the last 50km of the bike course back into town along the Queen K but this was an opportunity to ride the first 25km or so, which took us on a couple of loops through town before climbing Palani Rd and turning onto the Queen K.  The route would follow the highway all the way north to Hawi before turning back and returning to Kona.

Today, however we were just going as far as the airport and it was a good opportunity to check out the loops in town. 

At the airport our groupetto turned back to town and I let them carry on as I had other things to do.  Yes, virtually out in the middle of nowhere I had an appointment with a writer from Triathlon and Multisport magazine who was wanting to interview me for their Kona special.  They were looking for Aussie residents and so I was naturally happy to oblige.  We were to meet out at the Energy Lab and so I stopped there to wait.

While I was waiting I got chatting to three guys who had ridden out to the Energy Lab and were taking their photos at the entrance.  They had each done one or more ironmans themselves, although never raced in Kona, and had flown in from Alabama to volunteer for the weekend.  After establishing that their flight across actually took longer than our flight from Sydney I was even more impressed by their dedication to the cause, and told them so.  That a bunch of triathletes would travel that distance simply to volunteer is a credit to the triathlon community as a whole and yet another reason why I love this sport so much.

Interview done I headed back to the condo and St Pete and I walked down to get me registered.  This was a well oiled machine, with plenty of volunteers interested only in making any stressed athlete's day that much better.  Nothing was a problem and all went smoothly until I discovered I needed St Pete's US phone number and he hadn't been allowed to come into registration with me (to cut down on congestion I guess).  I had to go out a couple of times to try and find him (3rd time lucky) but it was sorted out pretty easily and everyone was relaxed and, it seemed, living in the land of Disney...  The lady who guided me to the registration desk was wearing a large padded Mickey Mouse glove (seriously!) and I couldn't help asking her if I had arrived in Disneyland.

Ah well, this is America after all...

Registration done and it was time to check out the expo, which had just opened.  Unfortunately the temperature was soaring and so it was more of a sprint rather than a wander around.  With little shelter around we tended to skip any booths that didn't immediately catch our attention or offer food or drink to sample!  We did, however, make good use of the limited time, scoring some free yurbuds, getting 3 pairs of goggles for the price of 2 and picking up a Kona 2014 limited edition bikini from Betty Designs.

By that stage it was time for the highlight of the day.  Dad was due to touch down in Kona and Dave had gone to pick him up and take him to his hotel, right by the finish line.  We therefore grabbed a bite to eat and went and sat in the relative cool of the hotel foyer to wait for him.

The day, however, was far from over!  After the excitement of seeing dad it was time to head to the Team Kiwi afternoon tea.  This has been a longstanding tradition arranged by Ironman New Zealand and they use this as an opportunity to present T-Shirts to the team which we could then wear in the Parade of Nations that evening.

First of all, though, we're talks by kiwi pros Gina Crawford, Bevan Docherty and Terenzo Bozzone and it was great to have th opportunity to talk to them afterwards and get a couple of photos taken.  Such a groupie!  We also had a team photo done and everyone was in great spirits. Proud to have made it to the island and looking forward to representing New Zealand on Saturday.

Our final event for the day was the Parade of Nations and this was a very cool experience.  We lined up in our teams in the carpark of the King Kam Hotel and then paraded down Ali'i Drive while thousands of supporters lined the streets and cheered us on.

Now I know what the Commonwealth and Olympic teams feel like - a great atmosphere and it was very humbling to be a part of ... little ol' me, given the opportunity to represent my country, is something I never thought I'd be doing a few years ago.

So, a pretty long day and severely lacking in downtime. But that's OK, things will slow down over the next couple of days so it's all good.