wow. a race report and status update at
last. i am just going to jump right back
in.
status update. training for Ironman New
Zealand and currently about two weeks away from race day. training has been average. running sucks and there hasn’t been much of
it but swimming has been excellent and biking okay. i would think i am around 75% fitness wise
and that will have to do. crossing the
finish line is the only goal and i will stop at nothing to make this
happen. currently pretty tired of just
training, eat, sleep etc you know the fucking routine. cooper doesn’t know who I am and the cat
never gave a shit anyway.
race report for bunbury. it is no longer called the Olympic distance
but the standard distance. who knew. I
did this race last year and loved the course.
Fresh, challenging and new.
I drive down Saturday in my new car which is
just awesome by the way. Total fuel
saver and my bike fits perfectly. Felt
like absolute crap and was meant to go for a 3 hour ride before hand but was just
too tired and shitty. drop cooper off at
the dog holiday camp where he decides to urinate in the office. bad cooper. that cost me a block of
chocolate. pack the car up and I am
away.
thought I had picked the best location for my
overnight stay however the room turned out to have a really bad stinky odour
that no amount of spray or open window could remove. So still feeling like shit and feeling a
little stressed I head out to pick up my race packet and grab some nandos for
dinner. Upon my return they relocate me
to another room which is great but really not
what I needed. Manage to lie down for a
bit and then I have a shower and get everything organised as I will have to
pack up the car in the morning before heading off to the race. which is located five minutes away – bonus. somehow I manage to get a reasonable night of
sleep.
arrive on course with plenty of time to spare
and get a perfect parking spot. love a good parkign spot. rack the
bike and get organised. usual porter
potty visit and then a catch up with brett and floss. Head over to the other racks and find pip
setting up her bike. then it is back
over to the waiting area to get our wet suits on, great fun chatting more with everyone and
listen to the race briefing. which it
seems I did not do very well.
down to the water for a quick dip and pee in
the wetsuit to warm things up. touch
base with pip again and as usual we are the last wave. finally the race begins and I am at the back
but not for very long. with my new and assisted
ability to not feel anxious at the start I swim through the pack. I had a fucking great swim. I hit all the buoys spot on. I maintained a
decent pace. I got the odd draft and no
one got in my way. I felt the swim was
longer than 1500m and brett confirms he swam at least 1650. So my time of 29.55 was bloody good. consistent swim training has paid off. but
this is where the good fun ended and the shit day began.
as usual my transitions are just crap and I
need to quit complaining and do something about it. I had a bit of trouble getting the wetsuit
off but not bad and I was heading out pretty quick when I get called back because
no race belt. Fuck. I was pretty certain it said in the race
brief email that you did not have to wear it on the bike. and then I was fairly confident a race
official was walking around transition saying you did not have to wear it. but as it turns out you did and maybe I was
thinking of the nz athlete guide and maybe the race official was saying we did
have to wear it. and just for good
measure the race director did mention it in the race brief. Rookie mistake and too many long course
events for me. I hate wearing them. So back I go and grab it and head back to the
mount line where a junior just about cleans me up racing out of his transition
exit. I say slow down buddy and then the
mother has a go at me saying that the junior elites have right of way and we
need to give them a clear path. That is
a new fucking rule I have never heard of.
I explain that we are all equal but she is adamant. I get on my bike and now I am really no longer
having fun.
heading out it is bloody windy and my legs have
only partially come to the party. I feel
like I am at the very back of the field.
which is strange since I had a good swim and although we were the last
wave I should not be this alone. I don’t
see anyone I know while on the bike. in
my age group I was fourth in the swim and then dropped to fifth on the
bike. I had one idiot guy who was
drafting and then passing to only drop back again a few times. This was amazingly annoying and disturbingly
dangerous when he did it going through a roundabout. I find my lack of speed on the bike very depressing and frustrating but I have no one to blame and the
fatigue in my legs could be a factor but it still frustrates me. all the feel good vibes from my previous
weeks 180k in 6:20 fade. coming back felt good as the wind was with you and I made
the most of it. On the second lap I got
to see just how few people were behind me and it did my head in. started feeling very sorry for myself.
At this point I am debating whether I will even
run or not. I have gotten good at
justifying quitting. I start making
plans as to how far I will run before I quit.
I get back to transition and my gear is all over the place. fucks sake. was this me when I grabbed my race belt or
has my neighbour been a bit hasty - again.
I sit down to put my socks on and I take my
fucking time. No point rushing when I am
going to quit. Once I am ready I walk out onto the run course. I am now being a rebel. After a few hundred metres I start to run
although we really we should call it what it is. A jog or a shuffle even. I am fucking jogging.
So I jog off and once I am out of sight I have
to walk. My head space is very bad. One old guy sitting by his caravan tells me
that I am still doing better than him and he has a point but I am still feeling
sorry for myself. I forget that when
feeling shit at the start you can come good.
people running past make encouraging comments that just really fuck me
off. I run for the most part. On one of my little walk moments a girl who
is trying to be nice and encourage the triathlon spirit grabs my hand and says
run with me. we can do it. we are running at the same pace. This pisses
me off no end but I am very nice and explain to her that I am just having a bad
day and need to be left alone. She
heads off and I start to have a little cry and hyperventilate moment when I
think how embarrassed my dad (who is sitting on his cloud watching) would be at
my lack of guts and determination. So
finally I get my shit together and start to jog at a decent pace. I jog past the girl who said we could run
together and leave her in my wake. I
don’t give any words of encouragement on my way past. I know people mean well and sometimes I love
the encouragement but mostly only when I am feeling good. I cheer other people on but I tend not to
when I can see that they are in the giant pain cave. I love it when people tell me I look great
when I feel like shit. We are all
different creatures when we are head fucked and in a bad place.
I run across the finish line and pip is there
to cheer me on. It feels fantastic. It was quite a lonely finish line last year
but this year it had atmosphere and pip!
I grab my favourite drink which after being introduced to oak protein
plus last year at this race I have added it to my standard recovery nutrition ever since.
I talk about the mental and physical journey I
have been on. A shit load can happen in
three hours. We grab a quick massage
before moving on for presentations. Pip
has a great result coming second in her age group. I am in the next age group up for old women
and I think I managed to not come last.
So not exactly a fun day for me but it was
still a great event. I am loving being
back doing these shorter races and I think my frustration just stems from not
being able to be competitive. my
favourite bike leg is not as good as it once was and my running is just
disgraceful. There is no one to blame
but me and getting the motivation back to train seriously has taken a very,
very long time and a great deal of hard work.
But there is an end in sight and doing shorter races is going to help
this along.
ironman new zealand is next and I will finish
at any cost. then the standard distance
at mullaloo followed by the 70.3 at busselton.
after new zealand I am going to make running and transitions a focus. A real
focus. I have complained about my running
for years but I have never really done anything about it. Repeating the same shit over without making
changes is insanity.
