(Update August 2013 - Pics added, click any one for a slide show)
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Pre-race nutrition |
Pronounced “rote” by the locals, “wroff”
by the Brits, Roth, a small town in Bavaria is host to one of the most iconic
ironman-distance races in the world.
It’s big, with 3000+ competitors; it’s
popular, selling out a year ago in 45 mins; it’s a spectacle, with awesome organization
and razzmatazz; plus it’s fast - world records are held here.
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Dawn in T1 |
My A-race for 2013, my third
ironman-distance race, and the plan was to break the 10-hour mark.
First the ugly. We recced on Friday,
driving one lap of the bike course. This got me excited – rolling terrain
through farmland and forest, tarmac smooth as marble. A few sharp turns in some
of the villages, a few climbs, but nothing to worry about.
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Calm before the storm |
Except one thing: at 45k & 130k, three
hairpin bends on a fast descent. Straw bales strapped to the metal barriers
scream CAUTION. Lap 1, I’m approaching the first, sharp and down to the left, I
move right to turn as wide as possible, I’ve scrubbed my speed.
Just before I initiate, a big guy hurtles
past me, brakes hard, tries to turn but back wheel locks, releases brakes,
straightens ups and slams into the straw bales. Over the handlebars, over the
barrier and into oblivion.
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Crowds gathering on the far side |
Meanwhile, my only safe option is to
complete the turn correctly. Looking back over my left shoulder, the next two
riders are pulling over.
This all happens in a few adrenaline-fuelled
heartbeats and gravity is pulling me forward; I carry on. Moments later I feel
guilty for not stopping & going back. I hope he’s ok, I suspect not.
Now for the bad. My A-plan was swim steady,
1:05, then on the bike, target an average power of 180W to yield a 5:15 split
with enough in the tank for a 3:30 marathon. Add 5 mins for transitions, target
time ~9:55. If things go well/really well then maybe 5-10 min faster run to
give a fantasy time of 9:50 and a now-you’re-taking-the-piss
time of 9:45.
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Good views from up there! |
Jacky’s encouragement at the bike-mount
line told me that the swim and T1 had gone to plan. Meanwhile however, my
Garmin 510 bike computer has gone to sleep; no worries just switch it back on.
Ok, but it’s not giving me any power data – bugger. Fiddle with it for a couple
of mins, no joy.
No worries; because I’ve had the odd power-Garmin
hiccup in training, I planned for this. Evoke plan B and pace by heart rate,
which has worked well in the past; target upper zone 2 with a cap of 155 bpm on
the hills. But I’m not getting any heart rate data either. BAD Garmin!!
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Swim well underway |
After a few minutes pressing buttons I
decide that (a) this is dangerous and (b) I’m wasting time and mental energy.
So, I evoke a C-plan: “feel and feed, feel and feed”, i.e. pace
my effort based on feel and just make sure I take nutrition bang on schedule,
forget about everything else.
The trouble with "feel" is that when you’re
tapered and in race mode, going fast feels easy, at least it did for the first
lap: average speed ~36kph – that’s on course for a 5 hr split – far too fast.
Indeed, at ~100k it got tough; after that a lot of mental focus was required to
keep the pace up and the energy bars down. End of lap 2, average speed dropped
to below 35kph.
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Swim exit |
Due to stop-starting my Garmin I didn’t
have an accurate time but clearly inside 5:15. However, having overcooked the
bike, I was suffering and staring down the barrel of a “melt-down-marathon”. I’d blown it, dejection as I ride into T2!
But, ironman-distance is nothing if not an
emotional roller coaster; dealing with highs and lows is part and parcel. So,
never mind, press on.
Smoothly through T2, I’m on the run. Jacky again
shouts encouragement. Start off very easy but what to do? THINK! Can I salvage
this? And here comes the good; I look at my watch and hatch a new plan. It’s
about 1:20 pm. My wave started at 7:05-ish, so the original sub-10 plan meant I
needed to be on the run by 1:30. I’ve got a nice buffer, use it wisely. THINK!
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The bike! |
The A-plan was to build to 4:45k/min pace
and hold for as long as possible, then start walking aid stations in the final
third as the inevitable suffering began. The backup was designed for oppressive
heat; revise pace to 4:50-4:55, walk aid stations sooner. Both should deliver a
sub-3:30. Overcooking the bike meant that either could end in disaster: the
C-plan on the bike necessitated a C-plan for the run.
I elected to deliberately walk the aid
stations from the start, something I’ve never done before. Walking 20-30m every
couple of km allowed me to lower my heart rate, stuff cold sponges in my tri-shirt
& shorts and drink plenty of cold fluid to cool the engine. Hopefully this
would allow me to recover from the bike.
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Pushing hard on the bike |
This wasn’t capitulation, I wasn’t taking
it easy; in between aid stations I focused hard and I ran strong, keeping form
and regularly looking at my more trusty Garmin 310 to keep my moving pace close
to 4:45 min per k. But the deliberate & frequent walk-breaks broke up both
the physical and metal effort, much like an interval session.
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Start of the finish chute |
And the strategy seemed to be working;
10-15k in and I was feeling much better, I’d had a few energy gels, fluids were
going down easily, not too much sloshing about, a quick pee stop told me I was
hydrated. By the half way point I started to minimize the walking, grabbing
sponges on the move and stopping only seconds for a mouthful of coke.
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Home! |
As I approached the 29 km marker I felt
awesome so put the hammer down. This doesn’t necessarily mean I got faster, but
by increasing perceived exertion I aimed to maintain pace or at least slow any
decay.
With 5 k to go I was hurting real bad, calves
could pop any moment. But I stayed relaxed: “You’re deep into an ironman, of course it hurts”. Plus, I took
satisfaction from beating my local competition. Early on, my
walk-the-aid-station approach, meant I was overtaken quite a bit – an unusual experience
;-)
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Bag collection |
Between stations, I’d catch up, then as I
cooled and refueled, they’d get a lead on me. But not by then end; in the last
10k they were walking and/or slowing dramatically – I left them all behind. Apart
from relay runners, I remember only 1 guy that I didn’t re-take.
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The result |
And finally, the finish chute appears,
Jacky is there again, cheering me on. No idea of the time, well under 10, did I
see a 9:46:xx on the screen, or maybe that was someone else? I’m destroyed, I
don’t care, shuffle through the finisher’s area, an emotional moment by myself,
find somewhere to sit, head bowed, mind blank, don’t move for ages.
Finally muster the energy to move into the finisher
tent, massage tables full, see bank of computers with race results, type in
1168 – click Stephen Taylor – 9:41:25 – un-frickin'-believable!
Just goes to show; sometimes things work
out for the better when they don’t go quite to plan.
Official splits: Swim (1:04:57), T1 (2:54),
Bike (5:07:15), T2 (2:02), Run (3:24:20).