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I Am the Master of My Fate
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Not much to say Alan, gutting to come so close to a KQ spot. You will get there, i sound like a broken record but the work done the last two years will not be wasted and you will get to Kona.
Race selection will be crucial. See you in Mont Tremblant next year
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Swim
That'll do, that'll do!
I’d been gearing up for a non-wetsuit swim all week and was annoyed with the decision to declare it wetsuit optional. I hadn’t been in the water at all, but from racing here last year, I was worried that I was going to start overheating. The rolling start really irked me also and I think it is a slight to those who are genuinely there to race. I know I shouldn’t have been wasting energy worrying about either of these things which were outside my control, but I couldn’t find the Zen like place that would allow me put them out of my mind.
Marshals were holding placards indicating estimated swim times and I nudged my way into the mass of bodies around one holding a sign reading ‘60 minutes’. There was lots of people ahead of me who I assumed were confident of swimming fast times. I wasn’t standing here for long when the race started. We were ushered across the timing mat and into the water, where I immediately started passing people who from how slow they were swimming had absolutely no business taking up the positions they did at the start. My first experience of rolling starts has taught me just to be an ignorant curmudgeon the next time I’m racing an Ironman event, and stand wherever the hell I like as it’s obviously what a lot of other people do.
I wasn’t getting thumped and bumped about anywhere near as much as last year. It made for a mostly contact free swim, but the drafting benefit of a mass start was gone. Most of the feet I did get on, were those of people who had overestimated their abilities and weren’t moving fast enough for my liking. Because of this most of the first 1,000m or so out to the first buoy were swum off my own steam.
I found someone’s feet after this and was happy with the pace they were swimming. I’m pretty sure it was a lady I was drafting and I did my best not to hit her feet too much. Not out of any sense of chivalry though I should add. She brought me to the next bouy, at which we turned and started heading back to shore. The bouys were large and well placed, it was easy sight. I was staying on the feet of my personal vanguard, and I thought she was swimming straight.
It felt like a long way back to land and when we finally did get to stand up for the Australian exit, I could look at my Garmin, which told me I had swam 2.5km in 35 minutes. I was sure this was longer than it was supposed to have been. But if I had indeed swam 2,500m in this time, I would have been more than happy.
My goggles weren’t as tight as I like and I got a chance to readjust them running in for the second loop.
One or two much faster swimmers passed me on this lap. They were swimming pretty fast, well under sub 60 pace. So wherever they placed themselves at the start, it must have been as out of position as the slower swimmers who stood well in front of the one hour placard.
It was a pretty uneventful second lap until we were a couple of hundred metres from land. I thought other swimmers were behaving rather civilly up until now, then some ignoramus decided he was going to put the hammer down and tried to swim straight over everybody else. A swimmer beside me backed off and let him through. I wasn’t prepared to put up with his bullsh!t though and as I was finishing my stroke used the opportunity to dunk his head under the water. I'm not proud of this and I don’t generally resort to such things. I’d never strike someone under any circumstances, but he didn’t give a fnck about anybody when he tried to swim straight over me and the swimmer beside me, so I was just giving him a taste of his own medicine. This took the wind out of his sales and he fell right back.
Just to make sure he wouldn’t be able to exact revenge, I put in a bit of a surge and left him even further adrift. The water was shallow enough to stand up soon after this and when I decided the majority of swimmers were stading, I did so too. It was still above my knees and I wasn’t exactly moving quickly through the water. I tried two dolphin dives, before giving up on this and wading my way into shallow water before I could start running up to T1.
I got another chance to look at my Garmin here. It read 4.1?km, which would back up my suspicions that the course was slightly long. My Garmin seems to have wiped the data from this race, so whether this was due to me not swimming straight is hard to know. But 300m would be a long way to swim off course. It could also be due to the Garmin misreading the distance, but I was happy enough that it accurately measured the bike and run.
The results on the race site has the course at 3.9km and gives me an average pace of 1:35/100m. Assuming all this is accurate, if I took this time away from overall finish time of 1:01:34, I would have completed 3.8km in just a second under the hour mark. It would be nice to have this to my name, but there’s always next year.
Despite this I was happy with the overall time I had done. I hadn’t gone hell for leather at any point and felt fresh and ready to take on the bike.
Time: 1:01:34
Race Time: 01:01:34
T1
After exiting the water and crossing the timing mat, the plan was to get in and out as quickly as possible. This isn’t exactly how it worked out, but I don’t really know where I wasted the time. I chose to wear cycling shoes and didn’t fancy trying to get my feet into them on the fly. So I had them in my bag and put them on in the changing tent. It was a long transition and running in cleats was not the fastest way to get out of transition. I was on my way to my bike when someone told me I’d forgotten my number. I’d left it on my bike, but I wasn’t thinking and my immediate reaction was to think ‘Oh f*ck!’, I turned around and started running back to get my number from my bag. I realised where it was soon enough and turned around to tell the busy body do-gooder to mind his ‘own f*cking business’, but he was well gone and I put it out of my mind.
Time: 00:04:59
Race Time: 01:06:33
Cycle
Riding Through Alcudia - Champs Elysees-esque
I’m of the opinion that any triathlon race comes down to the run and if you can’t run well, then it’s game over. But it’s on the bike where you are going to make the biggest gains, so I wanted to put in a decent split. I knew I was going to have to push to make up ground, but I wasn’t sure how well I was going to run either and I didn’t want to be starting the marathon on jaded legs.
For this reason I chose to ride conservatively. Looking back it’s possible I chose to ride too conservatively and even allowing for my poor descent later in the race, I judge I left anything between 5-8 minutes out on the bike course. It’s probable going 5-8 minutes quicker would have ended up costing me on the run though. This was only my third ironman and I’m still a novice. It’s possible only by racing another few, will I find out if my approach to the bike was sensible.
Once out on the road, it was much easier pass than it was last year. I could see far less evidence of drafting as well. Both of these were due to the rolling start they had in place for the swim, but I was fairly certain the people challenging for the top 6 in my age group were well up the road.
There was still a long way to go, so I wasn’t going to panic about this. I kept passing people and it wasn’t until about an hour into the race that people seemed to be bothered by me going by. There were a couple of people whose pride seemed to be hurt by me passing them. They overtook me a couple of times, only to drop off the pace, whereby I’d pass them again.
One Spaniard was infuriating me in how he was cycling, he’d pass and immediately and very noticeably slow down. I passed once and told him to either hurry up or stop overtaking me. He didn’t seem to care and this back and forth continued for about for about 20km, at which point I though ‘Fnck this!’ and surged to get away.
From here I got back to Alcudia being able to cycle at an effort that I wasn’t being forced into holding. Cyclists came together here and I fell into a pacing line. One French guy, named Frederic, seemed determined to lead out. He had the cut of a strong cyclist, so I gladly let him lead and was content to fall back and let him set the pace. There were five cyclists in this pace line and when the leading French guy was pulled away, I moved up from fourth to second and closed the gap that had opened up.
About 20km later, it was just me and the Frederic left from the ad-hoc pace line that had formed. He was getting out of his saddle more than I thought necessary and it looked like he was tiring. I moved ahead of him after we passed through the town of Pollença, just before an ascent of 500+m. He was bigger than me and I thought this would be the last I’d see of him.
When the hill came I dropped down to my small ring and spun an east gear up the hill. I stopped passing people and it occurred to me that perhaps I should be pushing harder. There was a sizeable group ahead of me, that I knew I could have caught had I just been willing to work for it. I stuck with my guns though and kept pedalling at an easy effort. I passed one or two early on, but it wasn’t long before people started to pass me, including the French guy, Frederic, I thought I’d dropped for good earlier.
An Irish guy came up beside me at one point and I did something I very rarely do in a race and exchanged pleasantries with him. After a small bit of chit chat he went ahead of me. I knew the guy personally and while he’s a strong athlete, I felt he really shouldn’t be beating me up a climb. I increased me effort slightly and got to the summit before him.
I’d saved a lot of energy climbing in the manner I did, but looking back I think I should have kept hammering it and recovered on the descent. The energy saved allowed me concentrate better though and although I knew that some very fast fast hairpin bends were ahead of me, at least I was approaching them fully switched on.
I’d told the Irish guy I met on the climb that I was a sh!t descender and he told me later this made him determined to pass me as early as possible coming off the mountain, which as it turned out was soon enough. A la Samson and Delilah seemingly, never admit your weaknesses.
Anyway, he wasn’t the only one who passed me and I tried not to get too demoralised by how bad a descender I was in comparison to everyone who went by. I was sitting on the brakes way more than was necessary and I spent too much time looking over my shoulder, slowing to allow others to pass safely. I think next time, I’ll just let them worry about getting round me. As with the start of the swim, it pays to be a selfish f*cker and not to worry about anybody else’s race.
I came off the mountain still on my bike and in one piece. There was just one village to pass through that was a technical challenge for me at least, before it was safe to let rip once more. It was after about 140km that I started passing people again. The numbers I was passing though were far less than earlier in the race. I came out onto a highway just short of 150km. We were cycling up to a turnaround point and I was able to see those ahead of me on the opposite side of the road.
There was quiet a few of them and they were holding a good pace line. I was on my own and I was going to have a hard job to latch on. The turnaround couldn’t come soon enough and when it did, it didn’t lift my spirits, as I was facing into a strong headwind and was a good few minutes down on the cyclists up ahead. I did my best to hold an aero position whilst still putting the power down, but it was a wide open road and the wind was energy sapping. With nobody coming into view, it was hard to stay motivated.
A few cyclist had been dropped and I’d made up a few places when we got to the village of Muro. (Latin for ‘wall’, which I think isn’t just a coincidence.) We turned left and faced into a very short, but steep incline. I’d remember this from last year and was ready for it, dropping down to my small ring in advance the climb. Others were caught out though and I passed two or three on this ‘wall’. I was out of the headwind and on a nice, straight, fast downhill stretch, after cresting the hill.
This road brought us into the town of Sa Pobla, where we turned right onto a road and back into a headwind. It was a lot more sheltered than the open highway we had been on earlier, so it wasn’t as much of a factor. I passed the 170km sign soon after and did a time check. There was no way I was on for a sub 5 hour bike, which given the bigger picture didn’t matter a fup. But still it would have been nice to say I manged it and it was a rough goal of mine starting the day.
I was suprised then when we arrived back in Port d’Alcúdia shortly afterwards. The finish line had to be approaching very soon and I thought there was no way I had cycled anything close to 10km since passing the 170km sign. I saw afterwards that my Garmin recorded the course as being only 175.5km, other guys I was chatting to afterwards said the same. I was delighted coming off the bike to have finished this leg in under 5 hours, but it’s not a legitimate sub 5 hour split, so it’s nothing to be proud of.
I was happy with how my fueling strategy worked. After the first hour, the plan was to take a gel every 20 minutes and a salt tablet every hour. I drank to thirst and when I was running low on water, I’d replace that and when I was running low on isotonic drink, I’d replace that. I never ran out of fluids, but I sometimes forgot to take a gel or salt tablet. I had to take bars at some of the aid stations instead of gels, but none of this ended up costing me and I finished the bike feeling well fueled and still with quite a bit in the tank.
Time: 04:58:23
Race Time: 06:04:56
T2
It would have been awkward to get my feet out of the cycling shoes I was wearing, so I stayed clipped in and cycled right up the dismount line. After racking my bike, I bent down to take off my shoes and started the long run up to the rack where my run bag was hanging. After 5 hours on the bike, I felt extremely heavy legged and I didn’t know how I was going to get through the marathon doing anything other than an awkward shuffle.
After grabbing my bag with a bit of help from a marshal, I shuffled into the changing tents and sat down. As I was wearing a top that covered my shoulders, I didn’t have any need for the sun scream that was on offer. The Irish guy who had left me behind on the descent was changing on the bench opposite and we exchanged a few short words before he left to start the run. He confirmed he was in my AG, but he assured me I didn’t need to worry about him, as he felt I was bound to run faster than him. He hadn’t seen my plod from my bike to the tent, so I wasn’t so sure about this. I put on my shoes, stuck on a visor, took off my glasses, put them back on again, left on my cycling gloves (as I planned to shove ice cubes down them at the aid stations) and took off out of the tent. My legs felt a lot better after this and I was more optimistic about the marathon as I crossed the timing mat to transition in what I think was a respectable time of 3 minutes and 10 seconds.
Time: 00:03:10
Race Time: 06:08:06
Run
V for Victory
- Or at least what I thought had been a successful race
I’d taken two gels, a Nurofen tablet and a tube of Vaseline out onto the run course. I felt a slight twinge in my left calf 60km into the cycle and had brought a Nurofen with me for such an eventuality. Unfortunately it had fallen out of the pocket in which it was stashed, and I finished the cycle with the ever present worry that I was going to be stopped dead in my tracks at some point.
Luckily it never turned painful though and it didn’t slow me down. Just to be sure though, I necked the Nurofen straightaway and washed it down the with one of the Iso-gels, which allowed me run straight through the first aid station.
My plan was to keep the first few kilometres steady (the entire first half in fact), and if I could manage to get to the half way point in less than 90 minutes, I’d have a better idea if sub 3 was a realistic aim. I wasn’t prepared to flog myself in pursuit of a time and adopted the mantra ‘Slow and steady wins the race’.
I largely tried to run off feel and thankfully I was very comfortably running sub 4:15/km pace for the first three kilometres. I’d my Garmin displayed to show what I thought was ‘Average Pace’ for the current kilometre split, but when the third peculiar time flashed at the end of KM 3, I realised it was displaying average pace for the overall run.
I switched it to the average pace I wanted to see and found I had to push a little bit harder than I had been to run at sub 3 pace. This was no big deal though. I told myself I was running an Ironman marathon and asked myself did I really expect it to be easy.
The kilometres steadily went by and I stuck with my fueling strategy of a gel every 20 minutes. The Nurofen I had taken earlier did a good job in keeping an inflamed Achilles at bay. I was passing people at a steady rate and bar one of the pros who flew by me and some overly enthusiastic age groupers on their first lap (who I soon overtook again), nobody else passed.
I figured not too many people would be running as well as me and I was surely making up ground on others in my AG. As the run went on, more and more people joined the course. The route and aid stations got more and more congested, but I kept moving as best I could trying to forgive the morons who for no apparent reason would veer off a straight line and cut in front of me.
I was just taking the run one kilometre at a time and by and large, they seemed to roll by quickly enough. After reaching the half way point, I switched from gels to Coke and this gave me a new lease of life. There was an extra spring in my step and with Coke being far easier to absorb than the gels, my stomach settled.
My tactic of putting ice cubes into my gloves was working and I never felt like I was overheating on the run. It’s definitely something I’ll do again, I just need to figure out a quicker way of getting them into the gloves. The tube of Vaseline I carried proved very useful and it was liberally applied to my nether regions whenever needed.
I approached the final aid station and with only 3km to go, wondered did I really need to stop. In the end I though ‘Feck it, what’s the worse that could happen?’ I slowed down to grab one final slug of Coke and some ice and after this took off relieved that my day was nearlly over.
As my Garmin signalled the end of the 40th kilometre, I contemplated putting the hammer down and pushing for the line from here. I didn’t though and the same idea entered my head when I finished the penultimate kilometre. I couldn’t muster the enthusiasm here either and just kept going at the effort I’d been holding all along.
It wasn’t going to be sub 3, but I was on for a good time and I told myself, wherever I finished in my AG, I had raced well, I hadn’t needed to slow down too drastically, the injury problems I had over the last few weeks hadn’t resurfaced, I got through the bike without any mechanical problems, or without coming a cropper. It was a good day and if it wasn’t good enough, then so be it.
I approached the turn off for the finish line and dumped the tube of Vaseline. I took off my cycling gloves and shoved them down the back of my shorts, as I thought they’d look ridiculous in my finishing photo. I picked up the pace one final time and crossed the line with a 3:04:17 marathon for a total finish time of 09:12:23
Time: 03:04:17
Overall Race Time: 09:12:230 -
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RacoonQueen wrote: »That's the finish line pose that all the best people pull Zico.
Fingers not fully extended, it was a bit half hearted. I wasn't sure if I had anything to be celebrating to be honest.0 -
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Really, really nice report, zico....and quite informative too!! (note to self: don't f*ck with zico during a race!)
A few questions pop into my head looking at your photos -
1) Did your goggles ever fog? I see you had an opportunity to fiddle with them at your Australian dismount (or whatever you called it), but did fog ever cause you any issue?
2) What kind of helmet did you wear...and what kind of shorts are those you had on while on the bike? They are long...and it looks like you wore those on the run too? Not much leg showing there with your compression socks too!!!
3) How many bottles of water/drink did you carry on the bike? I see your aero bottle...and one in the cage. Was that it? Or did you carry another? I'm trying to decide on 2 or 3 bottles on my day...and it's the weight of them that is making me consider only 2.
4) Good lord!! Clean shaven zico looks like he's only 12 years old!!! Did you have to show proof of age at the race???
P.S. Well done, and congratulations once again!0 -
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