Ironman Cairns 2014 - Since when was the tropical north supposed to be so cold?

You'd think that with seven ironman finishes under my belt, at only two different locations, that I'd have all the bases covered.  No surprises left, it should be nice and predictable by now and, dare I say it - boring?

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

Cairns, that tropical paradise in Far North Queensland in Australia, decided to throw us a curveball on Sunday, in the form of rain.

17 hours of it in fact.

We started in the rain.  We finished in the rain.  In between there was rain, mud, puddles.  Oh, and some more rain just for good measure.

Did I mention it rained?

OK, enough of the rain - onto the day!

I had had a pretty low key build up and, as mentioned in a previous post, this race was all about practising strategies for Kona.  The Cairns climate has been likened to Kona conditions and so keeping it in the schedule meant I could try out Coach Dave's plan to ensure I survive the lava fields in good enough shape to soak up the experience.

That message obviously didn't get through to Mother Nature.

The day before, Lisa, Mel and I rode the bikes out to Palm Cove where the swim start and T1 would be located for the first time.  (Tip for anyone reading this and thinking about doing IM or IM70.3 Cairns - don't worry about the stress of having your bike transported out to T1 at Palm Cove. It's an easy 60 minute ride on bike lanes following the main road north out of Cairns.). It was here we got our first look at the new swim course.

Of course all the marketing shots show a gorgeous palm fringed beach with crystal blue, calm water. What we actually got was murky brown surf crashing onto shore with the palm trees blowing in the wind…  Surf session anyone?

Surveying the surf … not quite like the brochures...

It didn't make for confidence, especially when even now the swim remains my biggest psychological challenge with these events.  As a result our quiet, relaxed night-before-race-day became a wonderful breeding ground for doubts and nerves to show their ugly faces and it took all my secret boxes of tricks to deal with them.  Bad thoughts!

If only I could get excited about the swim like I do the bike...

Thanks Specialized!

Anyway, race morning arrived and I had slept really well and was in a good head space to go and have a great day. Raincoats on, we walked down to the buses that would take us out to Palm Cove.  Once there I went into T1 to do the usual pre-check on Black Beauty. Garmin Edge 810 set, electrolyte drink in bottle between the aero bars, water in the bladder and fuel cell loaded with food.  And a nice surprise waiting at some of our bikes - seat covers on the Specialized bikes, from Specialized, wishing us luck.  A nice touch which brought a smile to the face.  Tyres pumped up I made my way out tof the soggy transition area to find Pete. 

While I had been mucking around in T1 he had found a dry spot for us - the Pullman Hotel was just down the road and had opened its foyer to us, and so this is where around 100 athletes gathered to stay dry and as warm as possible.

Eventually it was time to go down to the start and I was hoping like anything that the sea would have calmed down since the previous afternoon.  Thankfully it had and, while it was still pretty lumpy, it was nowhere as bad as I feared it would be.  

The pros went off and finally it was our turn - the music was pumping and I got into my happy place - dancing on the beach! Let's do this!

The gun goes off and 1600 athletes make their way into the water and out through the break.  It felt like a couple of minutes before I could start swimming properly amongst the crowds but eventually we got going.  The new course is a big rectangle and we would swim two laps, exiting at the opposite end of the rectangle to the starting point.  As with Taupo this year, I seemed to be on the receiving end of a lot of contact, although I didn't seem to get as short of breath at the beginning as I usually do.

A really interesting aspect to this swim was that I had no time on me.  Because of the different race plan, I was going to use the Garmin Edge 810 on the bike so I could watch my heart rate and cadence and then put the Garmin 910xt on for the run.  That meant I had nothing for the swim and so my usual halfway time check didn't happen.  That meant I was able to just settle in and swim, find feet and think happy thoughts.

And that I did.  There was a bit of chop out there - enough to prevent getting into a proper rhythm and enough to get tossed against other swimmers (and vice versa) but not enough to really restrict progress. Even so I was a happy camper to land on the beach (or actually "get dumped on the beach"!) and make my way up through the showers and through into transition.  There was no clock on the beach and so I didn't have a clue how long I'd been in the water however there were a good number of women in transition with me so I took that as a good sign!

I took a bit of time in transition to make sure as much sand as possible was off my feet and made my way out to Black Beauty.  So much for thinking my feet were clean though - as we walked/ran out of the tent we walked/ran straight into a muddy quagmire.  I grabbed Black Beauty and tried rolling her to the exit but the mud was so deep I ended up picking her up and carrying her the 100m to the other end of transition.

Yuk!

On the bike finally, I saw St Pete as I got going and gave him a wave.  As I rolled by he called out that I had done a 1:28 swim.  Was that good, I asked myself?  I had been so disinterested in time splits this time round that I had done none of my usual reviews of past results and so spent a couple of minutes trying to figure out if it was an OK time.  I eventually gave up on that idea and decided that anything under 90 minutes was AWESOME (haha) and left it behind with the mud in transition.

Afterall I had 6 hours on the bike to deal with…

(My official swim time was 1:28:47, almost 5 minutes faster than IM Cairns the previous year.)

I've raved about this before in previous IM Cairns race reports so I won't go on much here, other to say that normally the bike course is one of the most gorgeous and scenic in the world.  Unfortunately we missed the best of it with the rain but the bonus of the day was that the wind we have had in the previous two years managed to stay away for the bulk of the leg.

It still meant for a cold, wet ride, however, and I suffered big time.

While I passed a lot of people (non-aggressively, this was just a training ride!) in the first half of the ride, I never managed to get the legs warmed up properly and so maintaining Coach Dave's desired 95+ cadence just wasn't on the cards.  I focused instead on getting my heart rate down after the swim and then riding conservatively enough to keep it as close as possible to 135 bpm (the second part of the race plan).  I did find myself thinking though that if I let my heart rate stay higher then I would also stay a bit warmer.  So I ended up with an average heart rate of 140bpm which, in the conditions, I was pretty happy with afterwards.

The weather also impacted on my nutrition and that would come back to bite me later on in the evening.  Because I was taking in rain water, and was cold, I didn't get the thirst that I normally come to expect.  That meant it was extra important to remember to take in fluids and so I focused on drinking my electrolyte drink throughout the ride.  Even so, over the 180km I found I had only taken in one bottle of water and one bottle of electrolyte - and while it felt fine at the time, as you'll see at the end I've come to the conclusion that I likely didn't take in quite enough.

Solid food was the other important strategy and for the second time I dispensed completely with gels and had "real" food only in the form of handmade balls and bars of dates, nuts, cacao, coconut and chia seeds.  They sat in my fuel cell on the bike and in my back pockets, individually wrapped in glad wrap.  They were really easy to take out, unwrap and eat and the glad wrap was simple to stuff into the back pocket of my tri suit.  The only slight problem with the nutrition plan was the schedule of taking a banana at each aid station.  For the first three aid stations (60km) it worked a treat.

And then they ran out.

Yep, by the time I got half way through the course there were no bananas available to hand out to us….who mucked up that calculation?!!!!!  Guess what feedback I'll be giving IM when their post-event survey comes out…

And then as if the weather wasn't causing enough challenges I started facing my second major challenge of the day.

My gut.

As I was heading to Port Douglas for the first time I started feeling really gassy, uncomfortable and bloated.  A portaloo stop was needed … and taken.  And straight afterwards I posted my fastest average  split on the bike leg!  Time obviously well spent :)

Posting a fast bike split within the leg wasn't to be sneezed at either.  Again the rain put a dampener on the party with caution having to be taken on the descents and roundabouts.  Where normally I'd put the hammer down on descents and power through roundabouts at 100%, the rain plus my slick racing tyres meant that I was approaching these sections much more cautiously.

But that's OK - I'm supposed to be riding conservatively anyway…

And I did, and all was well until one of the last bridges heading into Cairns.  I was probably only around 5km from the end and powering along the bridge when I come to the other end and realise I'm about to plow into a huge pothole.  It was full of water and so basically invisible until I was on top of it.   I had just enough time to stand on the pedals and start hoping for the best when I crashed through it, came out the other side (still on the bike thankfully - gotta love those old mountainbike skills!) but hearing a big thud down the road behind me.  I looked down and the fuel cell had jumped out and was bouncing down the road.  A couple of micro seconds were spent deciding whether to go back for it - but I decided it was actually worth stopping for and so hauled on the brakes and ran the bike back 50m to where it and half its contents were strewn across the bike lane.  The fuel cell was in two pieces, but thankfully they were the two pieces it was manufactured as, so I was able to put them back together, slot it back onto the frame and get back on the road without too much delay.

Reading all this you're probably thinking I had a miserable ride.  Well, no, actually it was awesome!  And maybe that's what makes us so passionate about this sport.  I spent over 6 hours dealing with all these issues on the bike but rolled into T2 wet, cold, but in one piece and really happy.  Even better I had suffered no punctures and was free of any aches and pains and ready for a bit of a run.  It had been planned as a conservative ride and I felt as though it had been a good conservative effort.  Awesome!

(A 6hr 18min split for the bike was 21 minutes slower than last year but still 34 minutes faster than the year before and so, for a training day, I was more than happy with that effort.)

I gratefully handed Black Beauty over to a volunteer in T2, grabbed my run bag and headed into the change tent.  Again, spent a few extra seconds making sure my feet were dry before putting my socks and running shoes on and, again, wondered why I bothered.

As I ran out of the tent I ran straight into yet another muddy quagmire and literally had to tiptoe my way onto the run course.  Not the way I had planned to start!

The plan for the run was to again take it conservatively.  Aim to walk each aid station and run the rest.  Ultimately, though, I didn't want to hammer the legs as we need to get them recovered as soon as possible so we can start the Kona buildup.

The run course at Cairns is now a 3 lap course entirely around the Esplanade.  The first 14km (first lap) went pretty much to plan with me ticking off the kilometres and taking in electrolyte at each aid station.

All was good with the world until I started getting the same gut problems as I had on the bike.  What's going on there?!  The second lap, then (after a toilet stop) became a low point and at one pass I remember telling St Pete to settle in for a long evening.  At several points I was debating with myself whether it would be better just to walk the remaining distance.  The pros for that being it wouldn't upset my gut any further and wouldn't stress the legs so much, after all this was just a training day.  On the downside, the more I walked the colder I was getting.

And that wasn't a good thing.

At a couple of aid stations, while I was pausing to pick up lollies, people would be stopping and asking for emergency blankets.  Silver-wrapped bodies became more prevalent as the night wore on and I
really didn't want to be one of them.

I persevered through the second lap and gratefully accepted my third wristband which signified that I was on that glorious last lap.  Not too much further along I caught up to another girl in my age group and we started walking/running together.  Sandi was also a bit of an ironman veteran like me and we found ourselves chatting away as we encouraged each other through the final lap.  She was struggling with toenails and I was struggling with the cold and gut issues, but we had enough conversation in us to take our minds off things for most of that lap.

Finally we were at the final turnaround and there was just a 4km stretch left back to the finish.  How good did that feel, except 3km out and my gut decides it needs another toilet stop.  Now!  I therefore tell Sandi to carry on and that I'll try and catch her or see her at the end.

I get running again and start picking off people looking to see if I can catch Sandi.  I can sense the finish line and am feeling strong and catch her with about a kilometre to go.  For about 100m I run with her and then I feel her dropping back and before I know it she's urging me to carry on.  By this stage I'm really starting to feel the cold quite badly and so we agree to find each other at the food tent and with that I put in a bit of a burst and have a strong and happy finish across the line in 13:56:04.

(For a conservative training day, this finish time was only 2min 30sec slower than Cairns last year. My run split ended up being 5:55:23, almost 15 minutes faster than last year.  Super stoked with that!)

After I crossed the finish line things felt great and the volunteer who walked me around to the recovery area deemed me OK to carry on and left me to have my finish photo taken and then find some food.  I walked through, got my T-Shirt and then started feeling not too flash.

This was a new experience.

I went and sat down for a few minutes and thought I'd try and walk over and collect my T1 bag.  Walked over there and had to sit down again.  I was suddenly feeling nauseous and faint, so took myself back to medical and they sat me down with an emergency blanket and some bottled water to sip on for 10 minutes.  Wow, those blankets really do keep the cold out!

After about 10 minutes I felt good enough to leave under my own steam and headed out to find a very happy St Pete and we slowly made our way back to the apartment and a very welcome hot bath!

All in all, then, a great day out, and the following pointers for next time:

• As a training day it went perfectly.  I raced conservatively and didn't feel too smashed the next day.  
• As a training day for Kona it wasn't that good - but you can't do much about the weather!
• Pack a polypro top for the run bag, even for tropical Cairns!  While the conditions were identical to my first ironman in Taupo, in 2011, there was a big difference in that this time I didn't have an additional 17kg of "insulation" to keep me warm.  Made a big difference...
• The visit to medical we've put down to my nutrition getting behind on the bike.  I possibly fell behind on the electrolytes and bananas and then didn't manage to recoup it on the run, resulting in being just a bit out of balance by the time I finished.
• The gut issues?  I've concluded that this was caused by the pasta we had at the welcome dinner.  I no longer have pasta as part of my normal diet and seem to react to it the few times I have had it over the last year or so.  Given this was the only thing I ate that was out of the ordinary, I therefore think it was just too much of a carb load for my gut to handle.  As a result I have added a very important reminder to the welcome party entry on the Kona itinerary:

STAY AWAY FROM THE PASTA!

Sydney to the Gong Ride Part III: The Ride Home

So, the fundraising had happened, the ride had been done and the costume worn.  Sarah, St Pete, Emily and I were happily lounging around the finish line in Wollongong enjoying the festivities.

But I knew it wasn't over.

My colleagues at work were eagerly awaiting the news of my return ride home and a promise was a promise.

While the entertainment in the park was really enjoyable and the weather picture perfect, I knew I shouldn't hang around too long otherwise I'd get too comfortable, the body would start realising it was tired, and I'd never get going again.  I had a monster climb to negotiate back up to Waterfall and then find my way back across Sydney proper to the Harbour Bridge and home.  And as the minutes passed the temperature was also rising.  Gale force southerlies had been predicted for the afternoon and while this meant a tail wind heading home it also meant hot winds.

An hour after rolling over the finish line, then, I was starting the Garmin again and saying goodbye to St Pete, Sarah and Emily.  They were all making their way back to the train and taking the civilised route home.

I wouldn't be.

Instead I started retracing my route north and slowly warming the legs up again.  I was in no rush.  I had all afternoon to do this - it was just a case of ticking over the kilometres.  The temperature by this stage had topped 30 degrees.  And it would stay between 30-38 degrees for the next 3 hours.  And I was still in a velvet bee costume.

Hmm, who's idea was this again?  Oh, that's right, mine….

As I was heading north there were still streams of cyclists heading towards the finish.  You could tell the heat was getting to them, as well as the distance.  Hills were being walked but the spirits were still high and this Queen Bee got plenty of smiles and cheers as she rode in the opposite direction.  At Thirroul I was definitely feeling the heat, though, and as I approached I saw a mirage in the distance.

Opposite me was the most welcome sight I had ever seen - a Juice Junkie sign.

Bergie's Fish Cafe in Thirroul was roadside and its associated juice bar, Juice Junkie opened in September this year and it's ice cold juice menu looked amazing.  Especially in 32 degrees!!!  It didn't take much self-talk to decide to stop for a break and have a watermelon concoction.

Rehydrated and with a core body temperature a couple of degrees lower I set off again, ready to take on the climb up to Waterfall.  And what a climb.  The first section, up to Stanwell Tops took me to the intersection where the cops had previously helped reattach my wings.  They were still there and it was a great excuse to stop for a couple of minutes and check the traffic management situation.  Heading right would have taken me back through the national park the way we had come down.  However the road was still closed for cyclists coming the other way and so I had no choice but to go left…a much shorter and sharper trip up to the highway…

Off I went then, and started the long grind to the top.  Part way up I spotted this great view of where I had come from and so had to take a photo for the blog….  No, it had nothing to do with needing to find a reason to stop for a couple of minutes…

Did I mention it was hot?

Anyway, I carried onwards and upwards - slowly - and shared greetings with the half dozen or so guys also making their way back.  And yes, I'm saying guys in the masculine sense.  There was a distinct lack of female company along the route and I was getting some "hard core" comments from the blokes.  But come on girls, where were you all?!!!

Finally I made it up to Pacific Highway and found myself up on the highway.  Unfortunately by the time I got there I ran into a couple of problems, the main one being my now empty drink bottle.

No, there was no leak in it - in the heat I had drunk it dry.

Yes - on the way down to Wollongong I had drunk around 3/4 of the bottle (plus the cup of coffee at Loftus Oval) over the full distance.  However the new bottle I had started out with in Wollongong was drained completely and I hadn't even completed 30km.

And by this stage the wind had got up.  This was good and bad.  Good as I was able to put my head down and make a beeline for Waterfall, the first opportunity to stop and replenish fluids.  Bad because it was a hot, dry, (did I mention hot?) wind.

To add to the challenging situation the hot, dry, wind, also decided to a strong, hot, dry, wind.  As a result, the inevitable happened and the wings took to the air and headed off down a bank.  For a split second I thought about trying to retrieve them but at the same time realised I had no way of putting them back on by myself (bit of a design flaw there….) and even less chance of carrying them the remaining 60km home.  At that point I was also far more focused on getting some more cold drink into me than trying to rescue a pair of flyaway wings.  So I put them behind me, put it down to experience (next time, leave the wings with St Pete and ride without them), put my head down and made a beeline for Waterfall.

Waterfall is a suburb on the outskirts of Sydney, known mainly as an access point for the Royal National Park and host to a stop on the train line to Wollongong.  With the exception of the train station there's nothing there (visible from the highway running through it), except a fish and chip shop - Legendary Fish & Chips.  And that's where I stopped next.

This day deserves a Coke

The plan was to buy an ice cold drink there and maybe a Powerade or similar to refill the bottle with.  As I pulled up on the side of the road and got off my bike there was another cyclist already sitting outside at one of the tables having a drink.  After expressing his amazement of me riding back to Sydney in a bee costume he said "take your water bottle inside - they're doing free water refills".

Bonus!

In I went, water bottle in hand and grabbed a 600ml bottle of coke from the fridge to buy.  Sure enough, the guy at the counter not only filled my bottle with water but topped it up with shaved ice as well.  It was such a great thing for them to do - if you are ever passing through Waterfall, make sure you give these guys some love and stop in for some fish and chips at Legendary Fish & Chips.  You can't miss them, they're right opposite the train station on the main highway.

The temperature wasn't getting any cooler and so after I'd downed the coke I jumped on the bike and carried on north along the Princes Highway towards Sydney.  Waterfall is the highest point in the Royal National Park and so it was essentially a downhill run from here to the northern border of the Park and the outskirts of suburban Sydney proper.  I say essentially as it was along this stretch that I had my first argument with the Garmin Edge, which decided I needed to leave the highway and take a left turn for no apparent reason.  I did well at ignoring its entreaties for a while - after all I had a decent bike lane to sit in and I knew I was heading in the right direction.  It finally caught me at a weak moment, though, and I foolishly decided that maybe it knew a route that I didn't know and, after all, why buy the thing if I couldn't trust it's obviously superior route-finding abilities.

Ha, how stupid was I?  One kilometre after taking said left turn I ended up in a dead end street requiring a retracing of route back to the Princes Highway and a vow to stay true to my gut forever more…

Before long I was out of the Park and heading through Gymea, Miranda, Taren Point and over the bridge to Sans Souci.  The temperatures were still incredibly hot and by this time I was dreaming of ice cream and I was sure there was a mobile ice cream van at the car park at Ramsgate Beach.

Unlike the Garmin Edge, my gut didn't lie and I rolled into that carpark determined to sit down for five minutes and devour a soft serve cone.  Which I did.  In the howling wind.  And 38 degrees.  It tasted REALLY great!

Ice cream time!

 The next section of this epic ride was also going to be the most difficult - navigationally.  I now had to find my way across Sydney and navigate my way through the heaviest traffic and this is where I had to put my trust in the Garmin.  This part of the ride is the reason why I take the train to Miranda when I'm riding in the southern suburbs as riding through the centre of the city just isn't bike-friendly when you're on your own.  

Previous hesitations aside I set off and let myself be guided.  Slowly and surely I made my way north and things seemed to be going OK with views of the Sydney Tower providing a reassuring point to "sight" against and ensure I wasn't being led astray by my little maps wizard.  The route took me through Petersham, Liechhardt, Lilyfield and Rozelle, which seemed a bit further out to the west than I had anticipated, however I figured we'd take a turn soon and start going east towards the CBD and harbour bridge.

At Rozelle I came to a T-Intersection and the Garmin confidently says "turn left".  I'm stopped at the lights and look at the intersection and see the helpful bike route signs.  The signs provide two options.  Head left to Parramatta.  Head right to the City.

Hmm.  The Garmin wants me to go to Parramatta?  Who is it kidding?

I was getting pretty tired by this stage - the heat and wind (and almost getting run over by a bus) had combined to take it out of me but, despite the fatigue, I still had sufficient common sense on board to realise that I did not want to be heading towards Parramatta.

I therefore decided to part ways with the Garmin (directionally-speaking) and, much to its disgust, I took the right hand turn onto Victoria Road and shortly thereafter over Anzac Bridge.  At this point I also figured out what my little buddy's problem was.  And this is important for any Garmin Edge owners in Sydney….

The route finding on the Garmin navigation maps for Sydney do not know how to direct bikes across the Sydney Harbour Bridge.

That's right.  I had encountered it on my first few rides with the Edge but figured it was something I was doing wrong.  However, no, it doesn't recognise the bike lane that goes across the bridge and so it was going to try and direct me towards Parramatta and cross the river further west and bring me home on the northern side of the river via Lane Cove and North Sydney.  Probably an additional 20km which, in the weather conditions, I wasn't in the least bit interested in entertaining.

All that didn't matter by this stage, though and the sight below was a very welcome one - the steps at the northern end of the Sydney Harbour Bridge and my finish point.  As I was taking this photo, St Pete had been tracking my progress, knew I was almost home and was walking down to meet me.  

Another very welcome sight!

Finished!

So I did it.  The Sydney to Gong ride and back home again and a smidgeon under 180km.  Pretty happy with that.

In the days and months since I've had plenty of time to reflect on the experience and think about anything I'd do differently next time.

• Would I do the Gong Ride again?  Absolutely.  It was such a fun day out.  Fantastic atmosphere and stunning route, so scenic.  And for anyone outside Sydney, this is definitely worth a trip over for the weekend.
• Would I do the Gong Ride in a costume again? Absolutely.  It was a great way to add some fun to the day, not only for myself, but for the other riders as well.
• Would I do the return ride home again?  Yes, although I'd probably be more flexible with my intentions and planning.  It would have been great to have stayed longer in Wollongong and enjoy the park festivities at the finish line.  As it was St Pete came down on the train but only spent about an hour there before I was turning around and heading north again.  Next time it would be good to make his journey down more worthwhile.  Also, if it is that hot again I'd like the flexibility to cancel the ride home and save it for a cooler day.
• Would I do the return ride home in a costume again?  Probably not.  This is the only thing I'd change next time.  Especially given the conditions, but in any case, there was no real purpose and nothing to be gained from wearing the costume home again.  Being later in the day the wind had got up causing me to lose the wings and the elevated temperatures meant I just ended up overheating for the bulk of the ride, which could have been largely alleviated by not wearing velvet! Next time I'll change back into regular riding gear for the return ride home … unless someone donates a significant sum of money to the cause!

Until next year - Bzzzz :)

Sydney to the Gong Ride Part II - The Ride

So the costume was ready and fundraising complete.  All I had to do now was enjoy the day out and do the ride.

Oh, and ride home again.  But that's for the next instalment….

The morning arrived and by 5.00am we were outside our apartment block meeting Sarah and daughter Emily.  Sarah is a bootcamp buddy and tends to respond to my madcap ideas better than most!  We had done the Rebel Run with her the weekend before and she was keen to dust the cobwebs off her bike and join me on the ride.  Try as I might, though, she was less keen to join me on the return trip!

But that's OK, we were out to have some fun, enjoy the atmosphere, and then meet St Pete and Emily at the other end - they would head to Wollongong and hopefully arrive in time to see us finish.

So onto the train, in the dark, and onto St Peters Railway Station.  The start area of the ride was conveniently located at Sydney Park, directly opposite the station, so really well set up for people to take public transport and leave their cars at home.

At the start line

We had been given slightly different start times.  The first start time was 6.00am, however Sarah's was 6.15am and I was 6.30am.  Given the ride was untimed we figured though it wouldn't be a problem if we started together and so the aim was to go with the 6.15am group.  As it happened we turned up at the park, had a brief wander around to get our bearings and then saw people starting to line up in the start chute and so headed over to join them.  What we didn't realise at the time was that we would actually end up going with the first group.

Queen Bee is ready to go … bzzzz...

Being untimed, it really didn't matter.  Plus, despite being told several times during the start line briefing that "this is not a race", all these early guys were looking way too serious, and so this Queen Bee figured they could do with a bit of fun up the front!

Sometime after 6.00am the gun finally went off and we were on our way.  Down Princes Highway, through Tempe and then heading east to Brighton-Le-Sands and Ramsgate Beach.

This part of the route was all about getting warmed up.  The weather was starting out well - no wind and clear skies - it was going to be a stunner of a day.  Despite this not being a race, some groups were already obviously keen to hammer it and we happily let them go.

At Ramsgate Beach we passed the first water stop but didn't bother stopping for it.  It was early in the ride and we were rolling along well.  Over the bridge to Taren Point, through Miranda and Kirrawee and we were finally leaving the metropolis and reaching the start of the Royal National Park, the scenic part of the ride.

At the 30km mark we reached the morning tea stop, at Loftus Oval.  Yes, morning tea!  I told you this was a fun ride…..!

Muffins, tea, coffee and a water station to refill bottles were all laid on for the riders.  A festival atmosphere was around with music playing through outdoor speakers inside big wheelie bins throughout the field.  The muffins were devoured, closely followed by a nice hot cup of coffee, and it was good to provide some entertainment for the volunteers.  They were all in great spirits and loved having a Queen Bee turn up for some food.  I even had a couple of people stop to take my photo.  Bzzz.

Sarah arriving at Otford Lookout

Refuelled, we got back on the bikes and cruised along the highway to Waterfall where we were due to make a left turn off the highway and enter the National Park proper.  This was also the point of our first major descent and we were stopped at the top of the hill to wait for an escort who would drive down ahead of us.

As always, these drops were highlights for me and I'm sure a few people did a double-take at having a bee literally fly past them going down the hill.  I was getting plenty of positive comments from people as they went past or I went past them, although the funniest remark came from one guy who mistook the wings for another creature.  "Hey, I'm pushing too hard, I'm seeing fairies!", he yelled up ahead to his riding partners as he went past me.  Couldn't help thinking that he'd feel a right fairy if he let me pass him later on…bzzzz.

This section of the road through the national park was stunning.  Great road conditions, stunning bush to ride through and we undulated our way out the other end to the Otford Lookout where we had our first amazing views out over the ocean and first glimpse of the Ocean Road Bridge.

This provided another excuse for a brief stop for photos and to check out the views.  Did I mention it was stunning?

Otford Lookout

After leaving Otford Lookout we continued our way south along the coastline to Stanwell Tops and the start of our second major descent where we had to pause again to wait for another escort.  At this point the wind started getting up and, as we headed around the corner to start rollin downhill, a huge gust of wind came up and my wing popped off the back on one side.

Crap.

I stopped by the side of the road and tried in vain to pop it back on, but my contortionist efforts with my arms wasn't happening.  By this stage Sarah had disappeared down the hill and had no idea that I had stopped.  There was nothing else for it but to run the 50m back up the hill to where the cops were managing the intersection and ask one of them to help this bee in distress.  I headed up the hill but found myself on the opposite side of the road to them.  Inbetween us were thousands of cyclists streaming past and so I had to wait for what seemed like an eternity for a gap to appear so I could get across.  Where did all these riders come from?!!!

Wing finally reattached I got going again and stormed down the hill, on a mission to try and catch Sarah again.  At the bottom of the hill we ride through Coalcliff and then get to ride over the Great Ocean Bridge, a section of the road that is built out over the ocean and appears in many tourist magazine shots.  Just after the bridge I finally caught Sarah - she had no idea what had happened and was starting to get worried as an ambulance had just gone past.  But I wasn't in it and thankfully rolled up just in time for her to not panic completely!

Soon after we came together again we reached Scarborough and a welcome fruit stop.  This time fruit and oranges were on offer, as well as another opportunity to fill water bottles.

This final section of the ride follows the coastline south, through Wombarra, Coledale, Austinmer and Thirroul before starting to use cycle ways and arriving at the northern outskirts of Wollongong and finish at Stuart Park.

As we started to see various industrial areas we also started to get distance indicators from the volunteers on the side of the road.  At one point we were told we had 15km to go and I looked at the Garmin to find that we had only done 62km.  Hmm.  If we were going to complete 90km then this was going to be a bit short.  But, don't worry, I thought, maybe their distances are a bit out.

On the outskirts of Wollongong and we go past another volunteer on a corner shouting out "only 5km to go".  Another check of the Garmin and it's reading 77km.  Definitely short.  Even more importantly, I was conscious that we might get in too early for St Pete and Emily to see us finish.  A quick stop and phone call to them confirmed that would be the case, but we were given the green light to carry on and not worry about it.  So we did, and soon after rolled over the finish line with high fives and about 3 hours 30min ride time under our belts.

Sydney to the Gong Ride: DONE!

About 20 minutes later St Pete and Emily found us, lounging on the grass eating our lunch, enjoying the atmosphere and the sense of achievement of making it to Wollongong in one piece.

What a great day it was.  Oh wait, it wasn't over.  Did someone say ride home? 

MS Sydney to the Gong Ride Part I - The Fundraising Virgin...

Well the party is almost over.

It's Sunday evening and tomorrow I officially become a triathlete again ... training begins for the 2014 Ironman season.

It's been a fun off-season. I've done some different things to make training seem worthwhile and successfully managed to not gain any weight....BONUS!

The highlight of the last few months though ended up being the last thing on the agenda, and that was last weekend's MS Sydney to the Gong ride. Before I tell you all about it, though, let me just say: if you are in the Sydney region, or can make it to the Sydney region, and you can ride a bike, then you should add this event to your bucket list (or even your regular schedule of events).  It's a really well organised ride with 10,000 participants, well supported and an amazingly scenic route on good quality roads and bike paths.

It's also a fundraiser for Multiple Sclerosis Australia and this was a new experience for me as an individual.  I had been in teams before that had fundraising targets to achieve, but never tried this sort of thing solo.  It was a ride I was keen to do, however, and the minimum $250 to raise seemed almost achievable for this fundraising virgin.  Given the distance of the ride could be seen as not necessarily a huge challenge for this irongirl, I thought I'd make things interesting by upping the challenge for myself if the donors came to the party and threw sufficient dollars my way (well, MS Australia's way to be exact!)

So I put it out there: If I raised $500 I would double the ride distance, doing the Gong ride and then riding back home.  If I raised $1,000 then I'd do the double distance in a crazy costume.  I figured $500 might be on the cards but anticipated a less than 50% chance of having to do it in a costume.

Ha - how wrong was I?!!!

The fundraising started out well - a shout out on Facebook and an initial email around work saw the total head to $400 and then sit there until a week out from the ride.  I was really happy with that - I had achieved the minimum $250 and figured I might just get to $500 if I was lucky.  But the options were open and I was in two minds about doing the return trip anyway.  If I didn't get the $500, no pressure, I could come home on the train.  And if the weather was bad I could definitely come home on the train and not feel guilty!  Or, if it was a nice day then the return trip would make the day a decent training ride.

I therefore felt really relaxed about either option.

A week out, however, saw a major change.  Suzie and Rodina, two work colleagues, remembered to get together and make a joint donation on the website and then decided to also appoint themselves my personal marketing team.  Great move on their part - I'm just the athlete, after all…!  Anyway, on the Tuesday before the ride they sent out a follow-up email around work on my behalf urging people to sponsor me.  The total by then was $465 and so I did another spruik on Facebook at the same time.

And over the next 24 hours the website went slightly crazy.

Maybe it was the timing, but donations started coming in and by the end of Wednesday my donations were sitting at $860 and I was suddenly contemplating not only the double distance ride, but doing it also in a costume.  Only problem was, I hadn't given a costume any more thought since the first week after registering for the ride, when I first set the challenge.

A quick discussion with St Pete on Wednesday night and I was starting to check out costume websites and consider options.  Thursday morning came around and a decision had to be made.  Would I get to $1,000?  Chances suddenly seemed high.  OK, let's commit to this.

A Queen Bee costume had been found on a site that offered overnight delivery and it looked like it would work well over the top of bike pants.  Costume was duly ordered and just as well - by the end of Thursday my donations had surpassed $1,000….wow.

The comments and support coming in from people was both humbling and exciting.  This was like doing my first ironman all over again and I knew I didn't want to let anyone down now.

All I had to do was get out there and do a good ride and have some fun with it.  Time wasn't important - just look the part and do the distance.  Let's do this!

…to be continued...

Childhood Memories

This weekend has been a time of reliving childhood memories.

Winter has arrived in Sydney and, with it, icy cold temperatures and rain.   OK, it's not snowing like it has been in old hometown Christchurch, but it does feel like those antarctic winds have come straight across the Tasman courtesy of Aotearoa.

As a result Coach Dave's suggestion that I do an easy 30 minute run on Saturday and a social 60 minute ride today (plus a swim or two) were set to be more challenging than usual.  I had great plans and when a work colleague mentioned on Friday night that she was running over to our side of the city on Saturday I immediately roped her into the idea of tacking on an additional 30 minutes onto her run.  She could run to our place and then we'd do a social 30 minutes back across the bridge with her.

Perfect.

Until Saturday morning dawned and, with it, an antarctic chill and black skies.  By 7.00am St Pete and I had been unceremoniously dumped as running partners in favour of the warm and dry gym.

Undaunted, we headed out ready to enjoy the fresh air and whatever weather Mother Nature decided to throw at us.

And so I relived a favourite childhood memory - biking home from school in the rain.  Kawerau, the small town in the Bay of Plenty where I grew up, is set in a valley that gives it a sub-tropical climate and tropical-style downpours.  My mode of transport to school, then, was by bike and if it was raining I would always try and get mum or dad to drop me off to school in the car.  Coming home, however, didn't bother me.  Strange though it may sound it was always an immensely fun experience to bike home in a downpour, getting completely drenched, knowing you could then thaw out in a nice hot shower at home.

So while we ran in the wet and cold I just kept thinking of my school experiences and the nice hot shower I was going to get when I got home!

Today provided a similar experience.  Again I had set up a buddy to join me for a social 60 minute ride to Manly for a coffee and was really looking forward to getting out on the bike without the pressure of a training plan.  The weather forecast last night, however, was looking pretty grim and, in fact, worse than what had been predicted for Saturday morning.  And on the bike I admit I am a bit more conservative when it comes to braving the Sydney traffic and slick road surface in the wet.  So a joint decision was made last night to abandon and try another day.

That was all good, until this morning.  I got up, looked out the windows and saw that, while it was wet outside, it wasn't raining....hmm.  The rain radar was consulted while breakfast was being eaten and before you know it this irongirl was hatching a plan.

I would ride to Manly (hopefully dodging the heavy rain that was heading towards us from the west - thanks again NZ!) while St Pete travelled to Manly by ferry with a change of clothes for me.  We would meet up there, I could get changed, and then we could enjoy a leisurely coffee together before taking the ferry back home.

Perfect.  And, even better, St Pete thought it was a pretty good idea too!

So, off I went.

Manly, slightly drenched...

Up to North Sydney, down Military Road and over Spit Bridge.  Up to this point the roads were wet and the sky was black. But, it wasn't raining and I was enjoying the unpressured ride.  Over Spit Bridge, climb up the other side to Seaforth and, as I get to the top, the skies opened up.

Within 10 seconds I was completely drenched.

And I mean drenched.  It rained as it only can in Sydney - it was like riding under a waterfall, and I loved every second of it!  Within seconds I was reliving my childhood memory again of riding home from school and thinking about that hot shower at the end of it all.

By the time I got to Manly it had virtually stopped raining again and within a couple of minutes St Pete had arrived and I was able to put on some dry clothes and get warm.

St Pete brings the coffee

Despite the wintery weather it was a great morning to spend out at Manly.  With coffee in one hand and home baking in the other, we sat by the beach watching the surfers test themselves in the waves.  Hydrated and fed we then took the bike for a walk around to Shelly Beach (for once, completely deserted except for one person laying out dive gear) and up to the lookout where we watched for whales and saw plenty of whale spouts and one breach!

Then it was time for a leisurely walk back to the ferry terminal and home for that hot shower of my childhood memories.

The Avanti on the ferry - ready for her easy trip home.

All up, a great way to spend a Sunday morning in the off-season and a reminder to all...don't let the bad weather put a stop to your activity.  You can't control the weather and, if you're doing an event, you have to be prepared for all conditions.  So you may as well practice in those conditions.

So get out there - dress accordingly and look for the positive in every experience.  It will only make you better!

Cobras, Crunches and Grunts

Ouch.

I got up yesterday morning and everything hurt.  Muscles in my arms, shoulders and legs were all aching.  Muscles I hadn't been acquainted with in a long time.  It felt like I had just done an ironman. Except I did that almost four weeks ago.  So it was pretty safe to say that ironman wasn't to blame, and I knew the culprit.

Bootcamp.

On Friday morning I had headed down to Bradfield Park to have a trial run with the team at Ultimate Bootcamp.  They run 60 minute intense sessions designed to improve strength, endurance, fitness and mobility.  With my plans to mix things up a bit over winter, then, it seemed like it could be a good way of doing some core work and getting a good dose of DOMS.

Richie was our softly-spoken trainer with a heart of steel.  There was no yelling, no chiding.  However there was no way any of us were getting off the hook, just because it was dark, wet and cold.  After a light warmup and stretch under the bridge we jogged down the hill to the end of Lavender Bay, and a small grassed area.  It was a lovely spot to watch the sunrise from, with a view across to the CBD.  But of course we weren't going to get a chance for any of that, because the grassed area was in a very special spot.

At the base of a nice grunty hill.

First up, a run up said hill, just to check it out.  Back at the bottom we were on the ground doing 50 crunches, 50 cobras and 50 one armed rows (with a stretch band).  There are various ways of doing cobras - our version involved lying prone, with arms stretched out in front and then swinging them out and back until hands touch the hips.  Great for the upper arms, shoulders and back.

After that little set we got to run up the hill again.  And then it was back into another 50 crunches, 50 cobras, 50 one-armed rows and 50 squats.  By then the cobras were starting to get a bit tougher.  After running up the hill a third time we repeated all the above and added 50 grunts.  Yes, grunts.  Basically a half-burpee.

And my new least favourite exercise.

Of course we weren't finished there.  It was another run up the hill and then back down and a repeat of all the above.  All up, in the space of 60 minutes, I did 200 crunches, 200 cobras, 200 one-armed rows, 150 squats and 100 grunts.   Plus four hill repeats.

I N S A N E

But, despite the DOMS, it felt great and I can tell it's going to be a really valuable session to do over the coming three months.  Only one question remains: two times per week or three...

The Holiday is Over

Image by pierre pouliquin via Flickr

So I've had about 7 weeks off serious training and have spent that time being pretty much a complete sloth.  There's been the odd swim session, an occasional run, an infrequent bike ride and a couple of aquajogging sessions.  When I look at my log it averages around 2 hours per week of exercise - basically nothing!

I did confirm a very important characteristic about myself, though.  If the coach doesn't prescribe it, it doesn't get done.  It seems that I need to have an actual program, with tasks I can schedule in my diary and tick off.  If it's not important enough to schedule then it obviously doesn't matter if it doesn't get done - well that seems to be how my brain works...

Coach Dave had been really relaxed about my training over this recovery period, but he probably wasn't anticipating I'd be quite as relaxed as I was!  However I did suggest that it was time he gave me an actual programme to follow again, as I did recognise that I was starting to go slightly stir-crazy - and he has.

I've also had about 7 weeks without stepping on the scales, so the start of training also meant the dreaded weigh-in.  Thankfully it wasn't as dire as I had expected.  A couple of kilos have found their way back to me but I'm confident they won't be around for too long, and I expect with my more aggressive training schedule this year there will be a few more kilos being kicked into touch, which can't be a bad thing if I'm going to succeed in slicing 2 hours off my 2011 debut IM time.

Another signal to indicate the "start" of the season is the reappearance of the wind trainer in the lounge.  The road bike is back upstairs (in its own bedroom!), only venturing out now for Sunday group rides (on fine days) and the wind trainer is set up in front of the TV ready for week night and wet Sunday sessions.

310 days to Ironman New Zealand 2012 - here I come!

Underestimating my Abilities

Another weekend, another milestone.  Coach Dave's training programmes come through innocently enough, but I've come to expect the devil to be lurking in the deep dark depths of the detail.

Take the session he sent through for my Sunday ride - it went something like this:  "...find Hackthorne Rd and go up, turn into MacMillan Drive, down Dyers (Pass Rd) x6".

At first I just saw the first bit - the bit that said I had to climb Hackthorne Rd, go into MacMillan and then shoot down Dyers Pass Rd.  Just as my brain was digesting this relatively unwelcome bit of news I then spotted the tiny postscript.  x6.  Yikes.

Yes, I know I had swatted the seagull with my ascent of Gebbies Pass a few weeks ago, but it was obviously still flying around, just out of reach, ready to swoop back at the tiniest sign of hesitation. 

I had never biked up Hackthorne Rd before.  Had no idea what the gradient would be like, let alone do it 6 times!  I had biked Dyers Pass Rd - on the mountainbike, with much lower gearing. With the marathon clinic we regularly run up Hackthorne.  Well, some people run up it - I tend to walk up it, and so the gradient looms large (and steep) in my imagination!

I was so convinced I would struggle to do the whole six reps I sought out Dave's advice as to the priorities.  i.e. do I just do as many climbs as I can and then do the rest of the ride or do I do as many as I can, go away and do a stretch on the flat and come back and try again?  The message that came back was clear - make sure I do the six!  There were a couple of options - break it up into two sets of 3 reps or three sets of 2 reps, heading away for a spin inbetween.  "Don't walk up the hill", Dave said, "if it gets too hard head back down, regroup, and try again".  He finished off with a final gem of advice; "And don't forget, you are an ironman!"  As if I could forget!

Sunday dawned fine and clear.  No, wait, it actually dawned wet, cold and cloudy.  As I walked out the door and got on the bike I realised that, typically, this would be a wind trainer day.  There was a steady drizzle and conditions that would normally see me flicking through the DVD collection for the morning's entertainment while spinning in the comfort of the lounge.  But hills awaited and, with an epic weekend coming up (more about that in future posts), there was no point putting it off for a fine day.  Do the hill reps, I thought, and if it's still miserable I can at least call it a day then.

So bravely I headed down to Hackthorne and faced my first challenge.  The first part of the climb started OK - a long, straight climb that seems to go forever, but doesn't.  It flattens out for a brief moment and then the road heads to the right and climbs again and just around the corner it's a welcome sight to see the signpost for MacMillan Drive.  Turn left and keep climbing for another 100m.  Initially I thought (hoped!) that I had finished climbing for that set, but no.  After a small downhill and sharp left hand bend there was another short, sharp climb before another drop and gentle rise to Dyers Pass Rd.  That is the final climb and it is all the way down Dyers Pass to the bottom and along the bottom of the hill to do it all again.

Coming down Dyers Pass was pretty interesting - drizzle made the road conditions slippery and so hands were on the drops AND making full use of the brakes the whole way down.  In fact coming down required just as much concentration as going up!  Just as well there wasn't much traffic about - especially at the roundabout at the bottom of the hill.  Despite going very slowly, the final corner off Dyers Pass is particularly steep for about 2 metres.  Fine in a car, hairy on a bike...

Amazingly enough I completed the six reps without too much drama.  Well it probably wasn't the prettiest and it definitely wasn't fast.  But I did it and, in doing so, totally underestimated my abilities.

I am an Ironman!

Well, I will be soon.  :)

Add Another Layer...

Image via Wikipedia

Triathlon is a summer sport - and that goes for ironman as well.  Nothing makes a triathlete happier than heading out for a swim, bike or run on a gorgeous summer's day.  Training for ironman, however, is more than a summer season project.  Most athletes will start training for ironman seriously 8 or 9 months out and many of us (me included) will be training consistently for almost a year.

And that means only one thing.  There is no getting away from training in winter.

Don't get me wrong.  We're not having to wade through snow and ice like some fellow athletes in the northern hemisphere.  A frost and occasional bad patch of weather in Christchurch is generally the worst that needs to be contended with.  But even so, winter brings its own challenges, and challenges for the team management in particular...

Tonight I was tasked with a 60 minute spin on the wind trainer and then a 20 minute run off the bike.  Spending an hour on the wind trainer is great in the winter...for me...  I don't have to contend with the dark, cold, wind, rain or ice.  There's no concerns about punctures, drivers running me off the road or animals running onto the road.  Instead I get to spin while watching the news or whatever else might be on TV at that particular time.

For St Pete, though, it means freezing his bits off.  You see, with the wind trainer in the lounge there's no way I want to be going hard out in a room with the heater on.  No, I'm looking for as much cool air as possible and so Pete walks around and opens all the windows and doors so there is something approaching an equilibrium between the 4 degrees outside and 14 degrees inside.  Then he goes and adds another layer or five until such time as I stop and he can turn the heating on.

The sacrifices he makes for my comfort...what more could you ask for in your team manager and chief cheerleader?