Lanzarote
Ironman 2012 – “where normal limits do not apply”
On Saturday 19th May Gareth
& I completed Lanzarote Ironman.
I’ll let him tell his story but here’s mine. You might want to get a cuppa as there’s
nothing short about an Ironman story!
It starts in March 2011 when I went out
with a group from ATHelite and the EKRC and was destroyed on the bike - all
week I was getting left behind as I couldn’t keep up. So I decided to challenge myself and take on
Lanzarote Ironman which has the reputation of being the toughest Ironman in the
world (excluding Hawaii) due to the heat, the strong winds and the 7,500 feet
of climbing and ascending on the bike.
In March this year I travelled to Lanzarote
to train with Gareth, Graeme & Dawn for a week and the wind was extremely
dangerous. It turns out this week’s reconnaissance
helped me more than I realised at the time.
Gareth & I arrived 5 days before the
event to acclimatise as all training had been done in winter gear – the
temperature was 41 degrees! We did light
training, mainly swimming in the sea and a couple of short bike rides and runs
and it felt like being professional athletes.
Plenty of rest and food was important and by race day I couldn’t wait to
get started. The tension built as I
stood with 1,600 athletes all rubbered up ready to run into the sea when the
gun went off while “Eye of the tiger” blared out of the speakers at 7am – how
appropriate, it was a bit of a punch up!
The key was finding some space and relaxing
– you were lucky if you got 30 seconds before someone joined you and the fight
continued. I made sure I did a pee on
entering the water and one before leaving as it saves you time not going to a
portaloo. Swimming has never been my strength but I have worked hard at it for
over 2 years so when I came out in 1 hr 13 minutes I felt great as though it a
mere warm up.
Getting through transition took time as it
was massive. My spare tools fell out my
back pocket and delayed me when eventually I had to leave them behind – lesson
learned, I had never tried them in my race suit and the pocket just wouldn’t
hold them. Then my Garmin gave me
problems – no surprise there. One idiot
in front of my fell off trying to get into his shoes,which were already on his
pedals on his bike when he should just have been building up some speed first.
I had studied the bike course and Gareth
and I had driven round it a few days earlier working out when to eat – you
don’t want to be taking a bite of an energy bar when going down hill at
40mph! The use of an aero bottle meant I
could keep my hands on the handle bars.
Gen has said she wanted me to race the bike course which was against my
instinct because I thought it would cause me a problem on the marathon. But her programme was designed to make me do that
so I followed her instruction.
Hydration and nutrition in such a hot place
was essential and I drank like it was a free bar and ate like I was on an all
inclusive holiday! Ignore either of
those and you’re dead. On the Mirador
del Rio the feed station was 10 metres from the top of the hill so in order not
to stop or fall off I only managed to get one bottle of water. This leaked everywhere as I tried to fill by
aero bottle so now I had a serious problem as the next stop was 25 miles away
with no water. I’d pay for the damage
later.
My fear about the descents and the
potential for “speed wobbles” had been sorted in March and I flew down the
hills to make up time. There are a few
poor road surfaces out there and numerous riders were getting punctures but I
had changed my tyres and inner tubes to take account of the conditions and it
worked. I was amazed when I go off the
bike that I had no pain in my legs – my calves are prone to tightening up but
wearing calf guards seemed to have worked.
I had managed it in 6hrs 56 minutes which to me was unbelievable
considering the course and how I had died on the same hills 15 months before.
Then to the marathon which was a 19.65km
lap out to the airport and back with 2 shorter 11.27km laps. Running has been my strength and this was the
part I was looking forward to except I knew I was dehydrated from the bike and
needed to rehydrate myself quickly if that was possible. My feeding plan with gels went out the window
as did the not “walking through the feed station” for the first 10km as I
needed to get water on board or I was in danger of passing out. After sorting my Garmin, again, I saw my time
was slower than I was expecting and this plus the heat started to wear me
down. At feed stations I was drinking 2
full cups of water, pouring another over my head if there was no ice, stuffing
4 sponges down my top and eating a gel.
Before the 1st turn point I saw Gareth and I had all but
given up on the race – just get me to the finish was all I was interested in.
With this type of race they bring you back
to the finish and then you turn away again for the next lap. Seeing people being cheered in while you know
you have another 2 laps to go is tough but Rule 5 and get on with it. The pain was now starting in my quads and my
feet didn’t feel too good either. I was
in a dark place and just wanted to get this bloody race over and done with,
assuming I wasn’t going to wake up in the medics tent. Gareth was still ahead of me but I had
noticed I had made up some ground so I made a decision to try and catch him –
time for a “super gel” with caffeine. I
also needed a pee which was a good sign but I didn’t want to stop and waste
valuable time so when pouring water over myself I had a sneaky pee! Yuk I know but it must have saved at least 2
minutes and it was so much fun I did it again on the final lap as well – I was
averaging 3 drinks at every station.
With my stomach feeling dodgy I stopped the
gels and switched to coke (the drink!) around half way which is earlier than
normal. But I had to get the sugar in to
keep going. I then caught up with Gareth
who was suffering and offered to run the last 12 km with him but he graciously
told me to go on.
The last 1km was unbelievable as the crowd
were going mental as you come down the finish and when you cross the line you
get the chance to hold the finished tape over your head and have a photo taken
– just like the winning pro! The
organiser greets everyone individually and he said to me “you’re smiling now” –
too true I couldn’t wipe the grin from my face.
It was over an hour before I even looked at
my marathon time of 4 hrs and 8 minutes – the time didn’t seem important, I’d
finished (12 hrs 35 mins and 44 secs). I had wanted a sub 4 hours but in Ironman
something always goes wrong and you have to adapt. Perhaps racing the bike course was a mistake
but not in my view as that was my biggest improvement over the last 2
years. I adapted on the run and didn’t
end up in the medics tent which was like a scene from MASH with everyone hooked
up to IV drips. My calves felt fine
although my physio had prepared me for the pain – those calf guards really
worked.
A few closing thoughts. There were special athletes there on wheel
chairs etc and I passed one climbing a hill, on a normal road bike, with one
leg! The oldest athlete was 76 and he made it under the cut off of 17 hours –
unbelievable. It’s amazing what we can
achieve if we put our minds to it. The
Ironman event is important but the journey getting you to the event is what you
should enjoy as not everyone makes it to the start line or the finish
line. I’ve loved it and completing it
with Gareth was very special. Thanks to
Gen for her coaching which was superb and I wouldn’t have managed it without
her and to Colin for his support. My
wife Fiona and the kids have put up with a lot over the last 8 months so a big
thanks goes to them for the disruption to family life.
As for you guys on Facebook, what can I
say? When I was in the depths of despair
on the marathon I thought about you every time I went over a timing mat. I knew/hoped you’d be watching and didn’t
want to let you down. When I came back
and saw the response on Facebook I was quiet emotional to see how you were
reacting during the event. You’ve
supported me through my training and you were there for me on the day – thank
you as this one meant a lot for me. It
was dedicating it in memory of my friend Neil Sutherland who died last year
from cancer having completed the Stirling Novice Triathlon. Another
unbelievable achievement.
So now it’s your turn. Have a great season.