The weather on the days before the race were somewhat ominous - very windy and cold. I swam a couple of times in the lake but it was both cold and rough, so I didn't spend a lot of time because I didn't want to get intimidated by something I had no control over ... but the water was very intimidating, and I was very apprehensive. I was a little ambivalent as to what I hoped for: a rough day would give me a competitive advantage over less strong swimmers, but I would exit more tired, whereas a calm day would level the playing field but leave me with more energy for the bike & swim. The day of the race was calm and sunny - if it can be sunny at 5:30 in the morning. While the race itself was well organized, it was poorly designed as the swim start was from a beach that was maybe 10 meters wide - and which had to accommodate about 2,500 swimmers. The race organizers were calling the swimmers back from their "warm-up" swims while I and many hundreds of others were still lined up on the pathway trying to find a way onto the beach.
The pros had started at 6:25, and it was a two lap course where you needed to exit the water after the first lap, run through an arch with a timing mat and then back into the water for the second lap. The pros would swim the course in fifty-plus minutes, so they were well on their second lap when the gun went off. There was the usual melee of pushing and shoving, kicking and generally flailing around trying to find some clear water. It was bloody cold - I'm told the water temperature was around 50F - or about 10C. I saw a lot of folks being pulled away as the cold got to them. But I found my rhythm early and some clear water, and found that I was quite a lot faster than those around me so started to weave my way through the mass of bodies. It was an anti-clockwise rectangle and I almost missed the first turn, then there was another quick left and straight to the end of the first lap. As I got out of the water I heard the announcer say "thirty two minutes" which was amazingly fast for me. At that moment I had dreams of completing the swim in under 60 minutes which would be very distinctive. Well, "he who the gods wish to destroy, they first make complacent" and I was halfway into the second outbound leg when I got cramp in both calves. I kept my cool, focused on the catch and pull, and tried to relax my legs to make the cramp go away. However, I hadn't realized that the cramp had made me take an abrupt 90 degree right turn, so by the time I got relaxed and could check on my surroundings, I was about 200 meters off course. Cussing I turned around and swam back to the pack which I had overtaken on the first lap. So rather than swim a sub-60, I swam a 1:28. I was very disappointed largely because I was capable of much more on the day.
I got into my cycling gear and set out on the bike leg. The course was as hilly as any I'd ever seen, but I was keeping up a good speed without exerting myself. I've learned that it's a long day and there's no need to push it. I would have been happy with a 6:30 bike, which means an average speed of just under 30 kph. On the outbound part of the first lap I was averaging about 34 kph and feeling strong. But at the second big hill I felt my right achilles spasm and that was effectively the end of the day for me. I shifted the emphasis onto my left leg because the right ankle hurt, so by the second lap not only was my left hip a bit wonky but my back was hurting too. At the turnaround on the second lap I went through the cones and got the marshals to hold my bike while I got on the ground to do some "cobra stretches" in an attempt to get my vertebral discs back into place ... the next thing is there's an ambulance alongside with the EMTs asking "Do you need medical assistance, sir?" I explained about my back and they looked somewhat sceptical but I got back on the bike to hit more hills. So the less said about the ride the better.
At T2 I briefly considered abandoning the race but I had about eight hours to power-walk the 42 km run ... so I thought "screw it" and set off to walk it. I tried to run every so often but ankle, hips and back were so off kilter that I knew I was doing more harm than good, so just kept marching the two-loop course just focusing on keeping my core tight and not hunching over, which is what my body wanted to do. As I couldn't run uphill (achilles) or downhill (back) I simply ran the flats - of which there were few !! Gethyn met me on the first lap and we had time for a quick smooch before I got back to marching. I kept a track of the time as I went through the mile-markers. To begin with I thought I could be across the line before 11 pm, then as I slowed, my ETA gradually got later. I could feel my socks ruckling and the blisters building on my right foot, but knew that a) I couldn't bend down to straighten them, and b) if I sat down to do the job I would never get up again, so I just left them. On the final 6 mile leg home I felt the blisters burst and my right foot just got soggier from then on. Finally I could hear the noise of the finish chute and I knew that I would make it to the line. As I got closer, so the number of spectators gradually increased and everyone was being very encouraging. As I limped to the line I was met by Julie Dibbens who came out to push me to the end, and I tried to explain that my right foot was just too mushy to run. The noise and the shouting was amazing - and I could hear the announcer calling my name so I started to run the final hundred meters, and the crazy noise just got crazier. I made it down the chute, high fiving and slapping hands as I went. Thank god for the catchers.
So ... I made it through the finish process, met Gethyn, by-passed the medical tent and the food. I got into some warm clothes and thankfully one of the guests at the B&B had already collected my bike and bags and they were back in our room. So we stumbled home where a bunch of guests were waiting up for me. I had some pizza and a beer ... then a brief massage and clawed my way up the stairs to bed.
And thus the day endeth. It was both exhilarating and disappointing, I was proud to have pushed through but also somewhat ashamed of not being race-ready for a gruelling day.
Tim
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