Embrunman 2011 - The road to hell and back

I am not sure how to start this race report.
Everything probably started in May this year when, 3 weeks before Ironman China was due to take place, WTC (World Triathlon Corporation, owner of the Ironman rights) decided to pull the plug on that race for obscure reasons. Needless to say, that decision came as a huge disappointment so close to the event and after several months of hard training. The way WTC handled the cancellation was just appalling. But it was also a blessing in disguise as the prospect of racing in China was not the most attractive one and the race had all the ingredients of a shamble.

So I decided to carry on training to enter the Embrunman in August, a race that I had wanted to do for many years. Not many people know about the Embrunman but to me it is one of the most mythical triathlons, born 28 years ago. Over the years it has gained a reputation as one of the toughest long distance triathlons on the planet and in recent years has managed to attract some big names with a €100,000prize money. Don’t mention to anyone in Embrun that this is an Ironman. Whilst the distances are similar (3.8 km swim/ 188 km bike- instead of 180 km on IM/ 42.2 km run) the spirit is totally different. No big Marketing partners, no big publicity stunts. The organisation is handled the old way. You can sign up up to a week before the race, withdraw your race pack in a room hardly bigger than a French café and just pray for the best.
Don’t ask who is the official drink & nutrition partner because the energy drink is home made and instead of energy bars you get lovely tomatoes with salt, peeled potaoes, home made cakes and dry fruits. As for the drafting rule, don’t expect complicated WTC style drafting rule, there is only one rule: “if you draft you are a looser and you don’t belong here”.

You love it or hate it but if you come all the way to Embrun you can only love it. There is also a very friendly atmosphere. But what really sealed Embrunman’s reputation is the climbing: Total ascent is 5,000m on the bike, and 400m on the run.

I won’t spend too long on the months of preparation that preceded the race. I went through ups and downs but I have become more disciplined with my training with a bit of help from some pros. Attending some triathlon camps has been a far better investment than my pointy helmet (Thanks Nicole for organising!). Over the past few months I strived to up my swimming training (from 2 to 4 sessions a week) as well as my running as it is the key to a good long distance triathlon. Of course Singapore is not the best place in the world to train for some serious hills ….

I landed in Milan early morning on Friday 12th August, dreading that the Italians would lose my bike and my car hire booking . But when it gets to the important things in life e.g. biking the Italians deliver 110%. My bike was hand delivered with care and love by a baggage handler (whom I suspected to be a cyclist himself), and the car hire could not be any faster and better service. The300 km drive from Milan to Embrun was quite scenic especially after Turin. I went through the “Col de Montgenevre” at 1,850 m before starting my descent towards Briançon and then Embrun. That was a little taster for the Embrunman bike course.

I had two days in Embrun before the race; my parents came from Nice to support me. Due to the late booking and the shortage of accommodation, we booked ourselves in a youth hostel in a small town near Embrun. This was quite an experience, the youth hostel was deserted by youths but it was the ideal place to meet quirky characters. The hostel had a sign saying “FULLY BOOKED” at the door but it happened to be only about 30% full. When I asked Bernard, the hostel Manager, why he did not remove the sign he said something along the lines of “I don’t like to have too many people here, it’s cosier as it is”. As a result we had a 8 bed dormitory for the three of us with all the amenities you would expect at that price point, cold water showers a short walk away, table football, cold water showers and also table football. Did I mention we also had access to cold water showers (included in the price) and table football?

I spent the weekend with my parents trying to relax. My father is an expert at building up the morale with statements such as “How come everybody is 10 kg lighter than you here?” “ Your wet suit is way too small!”. “This road is so bad you would be lucky NOT to have a puncture”. And the usual “If it’s too hard just give up”. Of course my parents know me. Giving up is not part of my vocabulary! My main concern was a mechanical failure. There is no assistance on the race so I was ready to handle the worst: I could have survived 3 punctures, two chain breakages, spokes breaking, etc. and in insight I carried too much gear with me but you are never too prepared.

So here we are Monday 15th August, the day I have been waiting for all my life. Well, this seems a bit of an exaggeration but I can tell you that when I woke up at 3:50 a.m. I was more tensed and stressed than I have been for a long time. I was in the bike park with 1h15 to spare which is great to relax a bit and talk to a few competitors.
At 6 a.m. precisely the start signal went off and 950+ athletes ran to the water. The particularity of the Embrunman is that the start is given over ½ h before sunrise and it is therefore still pretty much total darkness.
The buoys have red lights attached to them and orientation is a bit tricky on the first lap. I tried to take a good start towards the front of the pack but within a couple of minutes I realised that something was wrong. I just could not swim, and could not get into any rhythm. My heart rate had gone sky high, and I found myself hyperventilating. I fell suffocating in my wet suit and for a minute I was thinking about pulling down the zip in my the back, not a good idea. For a few seconds, I saw myself withdrawing from the race, looking anxiously for a support boat whilst being swam over by a couple of hundreds fellow competitors. Not a good way to start a race!
I let some fresh water in my wet suit by pulling the collar, tried to take a few good breaths to regain control. After a few seconds, I was feeling better and managed to swim. It was a very scary experience. I enjoy open water swimming and I am normally fairly confident with it but this experience, 100 meter from the shore in a quiet lake, will make me more humble. I was feeling angry with myself to have succumbed to a kind of panic and not being able to better control my breathing. The lack of visual references made it very stressful. It was like being in a washing machine in the dark.
It was time to make up for the lost time. Probably due to the adrenaline discharge I suffered I was now feeling totally relaxed and swam well on the first lap. On the second lap I upped the pace, swimming right alongside the line between the buoys and turning the buoys really close. I finally emerged from the water in 58 minutes. I enjoyed this swim, apart from the first 5 minutes. After a relatively fast transition (by my slow standards – I am renown for my slow transition times!), I was on the bike. The road was flat for about 100 m and then straight into the first climb of the day. A 600m altitude gain over about 12 km was awaiting us with the most scenic views over the Serre-Ponçon lake.

The first two hours on the bike went well; I had good feelings and stocked up some energy for the rest of the day. I noticed that I could reasonably handle climbs up to 4% in slope. However over 4% the laws of gravity take over and dragging my 85 kg up the hills is becoming a real challenge. Maybe my father was right after all…Around km60, we went up some amazing gorges for about 20 km, and then the real action started with the Col D’Izoard, a 14 km climb on an average 8% slope all the way to 2,361 meters. My legs started to suffer badly, but my ego suffered even more. At first, I started counting how many competitors passed me but after a few kilometres I gave up. I reckon I lost about 30 places on that climb. In the last two or three kilometres fortunately the positions seem to stabilize and I carried on at my moderate pace on a 39*27 gearing. – avoiding to get into the “red”. Finally the summit was in sight. It was a warm 18 degrees at the top which meant that I did not need any extra clothes for the descent. In the descent, I managed to catch up a few riders, especially on some flatter sections – yes pushing on the pedals can help in the descent.
After 1,200 meters of vertical drop we reached the small mountain town of Briançon, visited so many times by the Tour de France. Briançon lies at 1,200 meters in altitude, Embrun at 800m so in my mind the road ahead was going to be fast and easy. Unfortunately this is one of the sections of the course I did not recce before the race and I could not be any farther from reality. Yes the road was eventually going down but after many hills between 900 and 1200 meters.
Views between Briançon and Embrun..

One of my fellow riders came to my level and told me “the wall is coming”. I looked at him anxiously asking “what wall are you talking about?”. “Well 1.5 km on a 12% slope, be aware the first 400 meters are at 14%” he replied. Someone obviously had done his homework. That was probably my lowest point of the race. I remembered what my fellow Banana Prata Club member Arnaud (who did the Embrunman twice) and also my friend Kona James told me “take it easy, the real race will start after 150km”. I looked at my Garmin: 143 km done, 45 km to go. These last 45 km were really long. It took me almost an hour to regain some stamina. I drank and ate a lot, these sandwiches and slices of “saucisson” were yummy. Thanks Mum! As I started to feel better, it was time to face the last difficulty of the bike course. Another 400 meters climb over Embrun on a windy single track road. This last loop is nicknamed “The Beast” needless to explain why. And the final 5km descent is tricky.
Finally after about 7h30 on the bike, I was back in the transition area. My toes were totally numb, fortunately one physio offered to massage my toes whilst I was getting ready for the run. Nice!

The first two kilometres on the run are a crucial indicator of form. The good news was that I could still run, the bad news was I was slow. Nevertheless, I applied the old survival strategy to run slowly between aid stations and walk through every aid stations for about 50 meters. I must admit that I suffered a lot and I had to dig really deep to keep running. Fortunately the local supporters were amazing and I loved the water stations with all natural products: potatoes, bananas, tomatoes, orange and apple cuts. That was my slowest Marathon ever in 4h40 minutes. All the hard work training for a faster Marathon did not pay off. There was just not enough fuel left in the tank and I probably underestimated the effect of a tough bike leg.

I crossed the line after 13h24, in 232th position. About 800 of the 900+ starters finished within the 17.5 h time limit. I was a good 30 minutes slower than what I had wished but having given pretty much everything I had, I had no regrets. I was incredibly happy to have completed this amazing race.
This video from a fellow triathlete should give you a good overview of what is the Embrunman.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3GR4tyMs8k4

I also attach a few pictures taken around Embrun (sorry no race pictures yet!):

Final Thoughts:

A week on, my legs still remember every climb. This race left me totally empty, physically but also mentally. Yes, it was the road to hell and back but ultimately a fantastic adventure. You don’t need millions to organise a nice race, but having the Alps as your playground will help. Ultimately we are all fuelled not by Gatorate or 100plus but by a much more powerful and long lasting fuel called passion. Thanks Embrunman! I shall be back…maybe.
Richard

Saturday 4th June, what a ride!

Saturday 4th June 2011, my first 400 km ride

As some of you may know, Ironman China was cancelled 2 ½ weeks before it was due to take place on Sunday 29th May. Of course this came as a huge disappointment after months of hard training and I was looking forward to try my best in China. After a “downhill” period during which Helen kept telling me “it is only a triathlon”, I fought back and took the decision to enter the Embrunman on August 15th. The Embrunman is close in distance to an Ironman (the bike leg is a bit longer) but it is a big challenge with the hilliest bike leg of any long distance triathlon: 5,000 meters of cumulative climbing culminating with the Col d’Izoard at 2,361 meters. Check-it out on http://www.embrunman.com/ . In the meantime, I needed another challenge to keep the mind and the body focused. Late May, I got an email about 300km/ 400km rides taking place the following Saturday. The longest distance I rode previously was 230 km and that was a while ago so after a few beers on a Friday night it seems perfectly natural to sign up for a 400 km.

The 300/ 400 km rides are organised by the Audax which is an association of Long Distance Riders from France, proudly represented in Singapore by my friend and fellow citizen Jean-Francois Torrelle, one of the most passionate cyclists I have ever met. http://audaxsingapore.com/

The day started will a “Changi loop (87 km)” leaving our usual meeting point in Singapore (“Longhouse”) at 1 a.m. after 2 hours sleep. Then breaksfast, met the rest of the group at 4 a.m. and set off for a long day around 4:30 a.m.
We were 12 in total (8 guys doing the 400 km “brevet” and 4 on the 300 km). After the customs clearance, we set our tyres on Malaysian soil. The first part of the ride in Malaysia is not really nice, dodging traffic and potholes on a busy highway in the dark. Fortunately we had so many rear lights that we could be seen a mile away. Some of the guys in the group set a good pace. This was probably the lowest point of the ride as far as I am concerned. We were only 120 km in the ride, it was pitch black and I was struggling to stay awake on the bike.
Rapidly the group split into 2. The most experienced riders thought that the pace was just a bit too fast to ride the distance comfortably and they were probably right. Nevertheless, I decided to stay with the faster group but I kindly asked the guys to slow down the pace a little, which did not really happen. Probably too much excitement to hit some near empty roads. I was thinking to myself “some legs are going to hurt badly this afternoon”. The pace was quite variable with is not really good for long distance efforts.
We stopped for our first lunch around 10 a.m., a full hour ahead of schedule with an average speed around 31.5 km/h after about 200 km.

After lunch, I started to feel good. The tireness of the morning was gone, the legs were good and the Pratas were succulent, although they did not do Banana Pratas, what a shame! Our American friends went for the adventurous food option: Mac Donald's.

We then started a long stretch of 90 kilometers rolling gently in palm plantations. To break the monotony of this long stretch of road, each of us pulled the group for 1 kilometre. We had a break mid-way and one guy, Eric, decided to wait for the slower group (they must have been 1 hour behind by that time). The temperature recorded on my Garmin was steadily going up: 36, 37 and at one stage it went up to 38C. But we were lucky as there was a few clouds in the sky. The faces started to be tensed. I upped the pace a little bit to test the group (sorry I cannot help being competitive). As we reached Kota Tinggi, 1 guy (Dave) was not looking too good and his buddy Jeff waited for him. They carried on at a slower pace. Jeff is an impressive guy, really strong.
We were now down to 4: Alan Grant, the recent winner of the Tour of Thailand in his age group who can talk like a real Scott, Gilles Daumas a seasoned Ironman and excellent cyclist born in the French Alps (so prone to excitement whenever the road goes up) who says about 1 word per hour, Matt Kinch (a new Anza member freshly arrived from Oz and former racer) doing the 300 km and me doing the 400 km.

The last part of the ride in Malaysia is hilly. You would think that we were all dreading the hills at that stage. When we struggled to find the hilly route I suggested that we could cut straight to Kulai. Alan and Gilles gave me a funny look saying something “what?! We are not going to miss the best part of the ride!?”. At that stage, I realised that I was riding with seriously insane buddies but they are my friends and I am probably as bad as they are.
Alan and Gilles who are natural climbers pushed the pace through the Kulai hills but I was not going to give up and I think they may have had a surprise when they looked back. Oh Yeah baby I am not going to drop your wheel!

I managed to drag my 84 kilos and my heavy Bianchi up the hills, but after a few hard pushes, they got me. We were just crazy pushing through some hills like if we were racing each other (and I think we were). And surprisingly the legs were not hurting as much as I thought they would but my heart rate was quite fast so Matt and I decided to take it easy and let the two crazy lads contest the King of the Mountains trophy.
We stopped for a few minutes as Matt punctured. Then time for a final water stop before the cruise back to the lovely town of Johor Bahru. Matt who was looking strong throughout the ride started to shiver and his heart rate went into over-drive. He sat down, or actually lied down along the road, waited and by then two our two American friends turned up so he joined them for a nice ride back home. So down to Alan, Gilles and I for the final quick stretch down to JB rolling nicely at about 37 km/h.

Once we got back to Singapore the adreline kicked in (again!) and we started sprinting up Mandai (our usual cycling route). The two crazy Frenchmen and the outgoing Scott were back in Singapore. I looked at my GPS and I was nearing 400 km. I must confess that a thought quickly crossed my mind. Could I do another Changi loop and complete 500 km by midnight? But at that stage I had enough. I still had a bit of fuel left in the legs (not much) but my back, my arms and my wrists were starting to hurt badly.
Back to LongHouse to collect the final stamp of the day (to validate our "brevet"), quick beer to rehydrate, then back home after 411 km at 30.6 km/h in time for dinner. Over 10,000 calories burnt, 10 liters+ drank, 3 breakfasts, 2 lunches and 2,000 meters of climbing. 14 hours on the saddle! I went to bed pretty early on that night, actually I think I fell asleep before the kids.
What a day! Thanks Jean-Francois for the organisation. And Thanks to all my fellow riders. The memories will last forever.

PS: all riders made it back to Singapore without incidents in small groups at various paces. Saw Matt and Gilles this week, they have already recovered from the ride, they were flying up South Buena Vista on a fast Kranji ride.

Here is the ride (only the Malaysian part):

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/90007479

A few pictures here

And a few videos

Ironman Western Australia 2010

Ironman Western Australia (Busselton) race report, 5th December 2010

The seasoned Ironmen told me that the most difficult part of an Ironman was to be on the starting line. It is only after a few months training at insane morning hours, narrowly avoiding half a a dozen of collisions (mostly with Singapore taxis), straining ankle, muscles , spending 1/2h negotiating your luggage allowance with a supervisor at Singapore Airlines (the same one that tried to charge me 20 kg excess a few months ago and still has no clue about how the luggage allowance is calculated for sports equipment) and waking up at 3 a.m. on morning race that you fully appreciate what they mean. Yes, training for an Ironman is hard work - probably harder than the race itself.

It helps if you are slightly unsociable, a bit selfish (or some would say” focused”), don’t need much sleep, if your wife or partner does not mind you waking up in the middle of the night to check out your tyre pressure and setting up your alarm at 4 a.m. on Saturdays. Yes, it does help if you are a total nutter and if your social life revolves around your bike, your GPS and a bunch of like-minded friends.

It took me many years to enter my first Ironman but this stuff has been flowing in my veins for a long time. When I was 7 years old, I loved to hang from tree branches 3 meters off the ground, and counted how long I could hang on before the inevitable fall. Then I loved to time how fast I could get to school running and biking. One of my best gifts was to get a stopwatch when I was 10. I guess this was the beginning of my search for performance. 31 years later, I am a MAMIL (Middle Age Man in Lycra) competing against other MAMILS. And I still cannot live without a stopwatch.

My first Ironman (Western Australia 2009) a year ago was a bit of a nightmare. I had to dig deep to finish under 12h. This was a lesson of humility. I learnt a lot from it, especially about nutrition and, later on, completed Ironman France in 11h33 in June 2010. It almost fell easy in comparison but I was on my homeground. Then again I learnt a thing or two, or rather 50 different things, especially the fact that if you want to do well in an Ironman you need to put the hours in and train smartly. So from 12 hours weekly training in the first part of the year, I stepped up the training to 14 hours on average, with a couple of crash weeks at 20h. I also started putting more thoughts as to how I should train. 14 hours a week seems a lot but, compared with some, I feel like a part-timer. Most importantly, I trained with a bunch of guys who are absolutely fanatical about triathlon. I mean all my friends from the BPTC (Banana Prata Triathlon Club), and a few other guys. I was lucky enough to train with some of the best age groupers in Singapore, Arnaud, Ziggy, Stephen Pennell, Stephen Duerden, Gregoire Sauve, Jamie Meyer, John McCann to name just a few. And I owe a lot to Ziggy and Arno for infusing me with the fighting spirit that I have lacked on some previous races. The eve of the Ironman we had a bit of motivational speech. Ziggy told me “stop racing with your handbrake on, it is your third Ironman it is time to push yourself harder”. Some average performances earlier on in the year such Desaru ½ M dented my confidence. In retrospect, it was a blessing in disguise. When I came back from Desaru I thought “right, it is time you do something about your running”. On the other hand, I felt really good on the bike. The Tour of Bintan cycling race in October went well and the BPTC jerseys were often seen at the front of the bunch. So “Mixed feelings” is probably the best way to describe how I apprehended IMWA. It is a fine balance: over-confidence can lead to disappointment; lack of confidence is a recipe for failure.
So here we are Sunday 5th December, the alarm went off at 3 a.m. in the Banana Prata House. Unlike my first 2 Ironman, I fell quite relaxed. With 4 .5 hours sleep I can consider that I had a good night sleep. It is amazing how some days you just wake up and feel OK even after 4 hours sleep. Well, this was one of these days. It is really cold outside at least by Singaporean standards.
When we reached the transition area, around 4:30 a.m., I feel like a pilot going through his check list: tyre pressure: check, gels: check, goggles, check. As usual there is a long queue at the toilet, and the first mission of the day is completed (Ironman trick: race “light” but always carry you toilet paper with you before the start). Everything went very quickly, I met my friends from the BPTC, stroke a pose, and then here I am alone on this beach with 1,400 other “penguins” in their wetsuits looking at this massive peer (1.8 km long) that we have to negotiate. It is 5:20 a.m., I still feel good almost looking forward to 11h of pain.

5:45 a.m., Busselton jetty: this is it, months of training are coming to an end. As Mark Allen used to said “this is harvest time” even if am a small farmer. 3.8 km swim, a nice warm-up for the rest of the day. I feel relaxed in the swim, almost too relaxed. There is sufficient space around me not to have to fight with the other competitors. What a great change from Nice Ironman and its 2,600 competitors in a third of the area. The lap out is fast, but as soon as the veer around the buoy half-way, we can feel the current. I increased my stroke rate a bit to keep moving. After a while, I had a quick glance at the watch: 50 minutes. The beach seems really close, maybe 500 meters away. I am thinking “cool, I should reach the beach in 10 minutes”. But, as always, distances at sea are very misleading, and I finished in 1h04. Ziggy is on my hills, a mere 30 seconds behind. Slow transition (as always- something I definitely need to work on) then I hoped on the bike with my arm coolers firmly in place. It is a bit chilly out there so there are arm warmers today. Biking is my favourite part. All BPTC members tend to be strong cyclists and with 12,000 km+ of training in the first 10 months of the years we are all used to spending many hours on the saddle. I tried not be carried away – my aim is to do around 5h30. I know the wind will pick up and I tried to complete the first two laps at a reasonable pace, and eased up on the last one, eating, drinking, and getting the legs ready for the run. Actually, I am not feeling that hungry. On the third lap, I am only 400 meters away from the “special needs bag” (a bag you prepare with your food to be handed over on the bike course) when I started thinking “should I stop or not?”. I feel I have enough energy to complete the third lap without refuelling but I decided to take it easy and forced myself to eat these yummy cheese sandwiches prepared the night before.

I completed the bike leg (180 km) in 5h29, a few seconds ahead of my intended pace. So far, so good. I can afford the luxury of a slow transition (again!) changing my socks, rubbing vaseline between my toes, and visiting the toilet.
Then came the run (42.1 km), and the second saying of the day from 18 times Ironman Stephen Duerden “it is only 30 km into the run that you will know if you are really having a good day”. Well, it is only where you actually are 30 km into an Ironman’s run leg that you fully appreciate the significance of this quote. The first 30 kilometers of the run went uneventfully. I feel easy and the long training runs in MacRitchie seem to pay off . I reached the half-way mark after 1h45 minutes feeling fresh. The crowd is fantastic and with so many people cheering I am having goose bumps. I am feeling really strong in my head – After 25 km, I am thinking “Come on only 17km to go, almost there!”. My friend Ned passed me a few kilometres ago but is still in sight. Ziggy and Greg are behind. Arnaud who had an absolutely cracking swim and bike leg (4h49, the same pace than some pros!) is a full loop ahead of me. At km 28, I am thinking “now nothing can stop me”. I know it seems a bit over-confident but when you have trained so much for a single day event you need to think positive. My body however starts telling me a different story. Mind versus body! Ultimately, I have to slow down for the next 4 or 5 kilometres as I am unable to sustain the pace. I just try to keep steady around 6min/ km, eating, drinking and rebuilding some strength for the last few kilometers. This seems to work. By kilometre 35 I am feeling good again, just to see that the lead I had on Greg had vanished, he is just 2 minutes behind now. Then everything went quickly. Greg passed me only 1.5 km from the finishline and went on to complete his first Ironman in 10h34 (3h36 on the run). What a performance! I am glad to finish in 10h35. As for Arnaud he had such a cracking day (9h42).
All the other guys did well. I am so proud and happy for all.

Conclusion:

Ironman is addictive. The sense of achievement when reaching the finishing line outweighs all the hours of pain in training. It does not matter if it’s your first or 20th Ironman and if you finished in 9h or 14h. Reaching this finishing line is such a great feeling.
It is demanding but interesting as you have to explore your limits and learn more about training.
So what’s the next stop? I feel remotivated and would like to do better next time. Maybe aim for 10h.
I told you. I am a typical MAMIL….

Nice Ironman - 27th June 2010

Outskirts of Nice, Sunday 27th June 2010. 3:30 a.m.

The alarm just went off. I have been awake for the last 2 hours which means I probably had less than 3 hours sleep. As soon as I got up, I realised that I was not in a great shape. My stomach is hurting but I am not sure if it is down to the carbo loading from last night or just the apprehension of the day ahead. In just over 3 hours, I will be on the starting line of the French Ironman held in Nice.
Having lived in Nice for many years, this triathlon has a particular significance for me. I dreamt about doing it for years and today the dream is about to become reality. After a solid breakfast at 4 a.m., my father gave me a lift to the starting line (about 10 km away) with the usual encouragement that a father can have for his son e.g. “if it’s too hard, just come back home after the bike”, “are you sure you really want to do that”, “have you checked the brakes on your bike”, “ Don’t forget to stop for lunch, you won’t digest well on the bike”. The drive through Nice at that time of the night seems unreal: prostitutes, drug dealers and Ironmen to be form a strange combination.

So it is 5.45 a.m. and I have now entered the bike park looking frantically for my beloved Bianchi amongst 2600 other bikes. I start the usual routine, loading the bike with water bottles, food and pumping up the tyres. 8 kg of pressure in the rear tyre. Perfect. Let us move to the front tyre, 2 kg, 3 kg, 3.5 kg and no more air seems to get in. I remove the pump and to my horror the little piston that let the air going the valve has broken.
Time to think about plan B. Should I change the tube, or start queing for the toilet? Only 20 minutes left before the bike park closes, the choice is quickly made. A good toilet break is more important than an underinflated tyre at least at that time of the day. I look for a bike mechanics that could help change the tube whilst I am swimming but there is no one around. Actually I did not see any bike mechanics at all. Wished Colin from Bike Haus would be there.
It is time to exit the bike park and hope for the best. Will my tyre be totally flat by the time I come back from the swim? Just going done the steps to the beach takes about 15 minutes because there are so many competitors. By the time I reach the beach, I have less than 5 minutes to warm up, adjust my wetsuit, and I start to feel seriously stressed. Not a good start. I just jump in the area marked “less than 1h02” (the expected swim time). I look around, there are so many people on such a small beach, it’s incredible. In the distance there are many buoys (about 10 in total, some to veer left some to veer right) and no one seems to know which one to aim for. Well, let us just go with the flow.

Finally at exactly 7 a.m. the start is given. It takes me less than a minute to realise that it is going to be a very messy swim. Trying to swim on someone’s back is not easy. Someone’s tickling my toes, how rude! Then first elbow in the face ouch, it’s painful. Let us keep focused things will get better. But with so many swimmers in such a small space, 2 laps and many buoys to negotiate, it is getting worse. I am doing some defensive swimming. Then came a terrible blow from nowhere, someone just kicked my head. And I am starting to think “Why am I doing that?”. Why did I pay 420 Euros to be kicked all over whereas I could get a better treatment in one of Glasgow’s back alleys for nothing? After 1h11 minutes, the boxing game is over.
Time to get changed and find my bike. Surprisingly the front wheel is still inflated. I am half relieved. 180 km of cycling now, and almost 2000 m of climbing. The stomach pain is over. I start to feel better. It is a gorgeous day, as most summer days in Nice, the sky has this intense blue that made so many painters love Nice. “La Cote d’Azur” deserves its name more than ever today. Today is the first day of the rest of my life. I am loving it!

The first hour on the bike went well. 30 km on the clock and 400 m of climbing. Then after about 45 km, we start the big climb of the day. About 1000m of climbing non stop over 26 km. 4%slope on average with a couple of steeper sections at 6-7%. My average speed dropped to about 26 kmh at the top of the “Col de l’Ecre” at 1120m. I took a few seconds to stop, get my “special needs bag” and empty it in my pockets so no plastic bags will pollute such a beautiful place. Quick check on the front tyre: a bit soft but still holding. Time to have a quick lunch on the bike. A few memories sprang back to my mind. I have gone through these roads so many times. It seems like yesterday although it was more than 20 years ago.The next 40 km are up and down, and it is difficult to find a regular pace. After 120 km, we reach the village of Coursegoules at about 1000 m in altitude and from there it is all going downhill. At least 40 km of gentle descent in very scenic country side, followed by 20 km of flat section with a bit head facing wind. You can view some pictures from the bike course that I took during my reccies by clicking here:
I take advantage of this last 1.5 hour on the bike to eat regularly, drink and really start to enjoy the day. If there was not a Marathon to complete that would be a very pleasant day.
Here is the ride in details click here:
(the Garmin GPS is not that accurate in the mountains but the ride was really 180 km, believe me!)
So that’s the bike section completed in just under 6 hours and a big relief that my front tyre did not deflate. Some may have thought that I had a bit too much sun, but as soon as I reached the bike park I pated my Bianchi Bike on the saddle for another mission accomplished.

After a slow transition (as always I like to take my time), time to endure the last challenge of the day. 4 laps of 10.5 km running along the “Promenade des Anglais”. Surprisingly, I feel quite fresh and surprised myself after completing the first lap in about 56 minutes. The second lap is a bit slower but still feeling good. I am worried however I will go through a “low” as I experienced in Busselton. I decide to slow down slightly in the third lap to eat, drink and gear myself mentally for another 20 km. Some kind of mental break. The highlight of the race was to see my two sons (3 & 5) that came to support me. High 5s for the whole family. It is amazing how distances take a different meaning during an Ironman. 15 km to run seem like nothing, just 1.5 laps. My morale is at his best and I can now speed up a little. Such a beautiful view. I start thinking about dinner, I quite fancy some artichokes tonight. After 4h09, the run is over. Here is how the run went:

Finally after 11h33 the race is over. Here are the detailed results here:

Epilogue:

Nice is a great race venue but the overall organisation was disappointing, so far from the Australian standards. The race course is great for up to 1,500 athletes but accepting 2,600 entries is sheer madness especially with such a narrow swim course. Finishing the race was a strange feeling. Of course I was glad it was over but, in a kind of masochistic way, almost disappointed I did not suffer more. I remember my first Ironman in Busselton I struggled so much to keep going in the last 20 km.
I guess one of the key factors was the the temperature (10 degrees cooler than in Western Australia last year), the familiarity with the course, and more importantly the fuelling strategy. I kept eating and drinking all the way.
Next big event will be Ironman Western Australia in December this year. I will be back with a revenge, and I just can’t wait!

Singapore Aviva 70.3 (1/2 Ironman) 21st March 2010

Good French wines get better with age!
I am not sure if it applies to French men as well. Last year I completed the Singapore half-Ironman in 5h22, this year in 5h09. Extra training, experience, luck or reverse aging process? I let you decide:.
I was aiming to break the 5 hour mark which is a big landmark for an aging amateur triathlete but it was just too hot and I had a slow run. OK no more excuses, I was just not good enough.
A friend of mine sent me this article recently:

How true! The 40-44 age group is incredibly competitive with many of us going through a mid-life crisis that involves abusing your body like if you were 19.
The 40-44 category was the most popular in Singapore with 300 competitors in that category alone - I finished 15th in the category so there is some margin for progress and almost 4 years left.
The challenge is not to train longer hours but improve on the quality of training. That what I profess to my triathlon buddies so now has come the time to lead by example.
My next race will be a 5 stage- bike race in Thailand (750 km in total) early May (The “Tour of Thailand”). The undulating terrain in Thailand will provide an ideal training ground for Nice Ironman at the end of June.
Completing Nice Ironman in a reasonable time will be my main goal this year. It will be very special to race on these roads so much ridden when I grew up in Nice and took up cycling as my main sport.

All the Best and “Vive le Sport”

Ironman Western Australia - Sat. 5th Dec. 09 – Race report

Where shall I start? Let us rewind the clock back to the 1985-1990 period (showing my age!). At that time I was living and studying in Nice in the South of France. I had a passion for cycling and the quiet roads in the back-country behind Nice offered the most fantastic playground imaginable. During the school holidays, I loved to cycle through all the remote villages meeting eccentric locals and tourists. There was not a day without ten stories to tell at the dinner table, embellished by a vivid imagination and the occasional sun stroke.
Every year, Nice hosted the International Long Distance Triathlon (about 2/3 of an Ironman). At that time I had one idol that I loved watching climbing effortlessly those beautiful roads: Mark Allen . Triathlon was still a new sport and I entered a few short distance races with the assurance of finishing in the top 10 as there was so few competitors and even fewer spectators. My dream was to tackle the long distances. Then I moved up North to study, work, and later moved to London. Cycling was not so easy so running became my main sport and newly found passion. But, the images of Mark Allen were firmly anchored at the back of my mind.

Let us fast forward to December 08, this is supposed to be a race report not an autobiography.!
Freshly arrived in Singapore, I discovered the joys of running around Mac Ritchie reservoir and met a few MR25 members: Mika, Christina Ledig, JJ, Michael Craig to name but a few. Mika and Christina were just coming back from Ironman Western Australia. Listening to their stories, it took me about 15 seconds to decide that Ironman Western Australia would be the ideal way to enter the fascinating world of Ironman and achieve my long term dream. They introduced me to MR25, ANZA Cycling, JoyRiders and I met many friends which made my training much easier. Getting back into road cycling after all those years was tough. Struggling at the back of the bunch is never a good feeling. The first few rides finished alone were incredibly frustrating and humiliating and my vintage 1987 Peugeot did not help matters.

I felt like a total beginner. So I swapped for a Bianchi model, trained harder spending many hours doing the “Kranji loop” and “Changi loop” with my friends from JR and ANZA. After a few months of training and a few mid-distance races, I felt ready. I should rather say “readier”. Or as ready as I could.
Time to travel to Busselton, about 200 km South of Perth for the event. After 2 days of light training, carbo loading, checking bike, registration, re-checking bike, and other joys of pre-racing, came the D day.
Saturday 5th December 2009 was a very special day indeed. Needless to say, I was incredibly nervous. More than for any other race. I had breakfast at 4 a.m. with Kim, a very friendly South African chap I met at the B&B. When he started calling his wife “Richard” and called me “Rodney”, I realised that I was not the only nervous one. This made me feel slightly better. Actually, I think the 1500 competitors or so were incredibly nervous. So many hours of training. One of my old bosses kept saying before any customer presentation “there is no room for failure today”. This sentence was stuck in my mind today.
So how did that go?:


At 6:15 a.m. precisely, the starting horn was given and took me by surprise. I knew it was imminent, but it went off a good minute or two before I expected. A quick tap to start the stopwatch and off I went.
The 3.8 km swim is nice: you swim out along the West side of Busselton Jetty, which extends 1800m into the sea, back along the East side and then parallel to the shore for a short while to get to the swim exit. I decided to swim a bit wider, staying well cleared of the jetty, to avoid being knocked around too much. I hate these triathlons starts with 1500 swimmers in an area hardly bigger than an Olympic size swimming pool. The leg out was quite fast and I really enjoyed looking the sea bottom (and spotted a few jelly fishes). There's a definite feeling that you're out in the open ocean at the turnaround, with quite a bit of swell and the land an awfully long way away. Coming back I started to really relax breathing every 4 strokes, sometimes every 3. The field was thinning and I decided to move closer to the jetty. Later I realise it was a mistake as the most direct route was heading slightly away from the jetty. Well, no big deal, maybe I lost a couple of minutes there but I had plenty of space to enjoy.
I completed the swim course in 1h06 which was OK without feeling too tired. Wetsuit off, bike jersey on, smeared with sunscreen by a helpful volunteer and off I went for 180 km on the bike.


The 180 km bike course is three laps of an absolutely pan flat course with a section following the coast followed by a section shaped like an inverted “T”. Having experienced three long rides (170km+) in the 2 months preceding the race (you may have heard of the “Double Changi Banana Prata” loop) I knew that 31kmh was my cruising speed. I got carried away a bit in the first lap. Going onto lap two the wind was starting to pick up and, Murphy’s law predicts, most sections of the road were exposed to either head wind or cross wind, rarely tail wind. I tried to follow the advice of eating very regularly (at least twice an hour): bananas, cookies, etc. The powergels did not agree with my stomach very well (which I knew before) and after the third one it was time to use my secret weapon. I briefly stopped at a water station to collect my “special needs” bag that I prepared the night before: grapes and nuts for starter, ham, salami and cheese sandwiches for my main course and a chocolate and muesli bar for pudding. Served with plenty of 100Plus. Not exactly your typical Ironman nutrition plan but I enjoyed a proper lunch and you know how important that is to a Frenchman! I did miss however my banana prata that was the highlight of training in Singapore.
However, I did a major mistake. I did not feel hungry in the third lap and stopped eating. I was actually feeling quite well in the third lap but by now the wind was slowing everybody down. Finished the bike course in 5h54.

Short stop to pick-up my lunch bag half-way through the bike course!


I reached the transition area and decided to take a bit more time (10 minutes exactly) to get ready for the final run (42 km). Changed top, socks, covered myself in Vaseline and suncream as the temperature was soon going to reach 37 degrees, put my running race belt on, cleaned my sunnies, etc.
Mentally I was getting geared for a 4h Marathon. It took me 3 or 4 km to admit that my objective was unrealistic and even 4h30 target would be hard to achieve. I had to segment the remaining 39 km in many different parts to keep some motivation. 39 km seems a long way to go but 3 times 13 km sounds much easier! Especially with a water station every 2 km with plenty of ice, water, Hi5, oranges, water melons and Powergel. Did I say gel? No Thanks, not my cup of tea. I walked through every water station and forced myself to run (slowly though) in between stations. The second of the three laps was one of my hardest running moments ever (as you can see from the increasing minutes/ km pace below). I had no more energy left, a real scorcher afternoon (37 degrees), my legs were starting to cramp, and I just wanted to walk. I thought that things could only get worse but surprisingly after sucking more oranges, and cooling myself down with ice cubes, I started the last lap with more energy and a renewed motivation. The torture was going to end soon! I kept dreaming about a nice bath, a fresh beer, ice cream and then coming from nowhere a guy shouted in my ears “Keep going we are under 12”. He introduced himself as Tony from San Francisco. I kept looking anxiously at my Garmin watch doing some mental calculations (very hard thing to do at that stage) and I replied “Keep going Tony we are gonna make it under 12!”.

Then came the finish line. Every single race I did in the past 20 years, I would sprint the last 200 or 300 meters. So I started to sprint but I couldn’t. I was cramped up. I finished the 42km in a slow 4h35 bringing the total time to 11h54. Thanks for the lift Tony!

After the race, I caught up with my two B&B mates from Sydney for a full race debrief over a tomato juice (lack of planning or superstition: forgot to stack-up the fridge with beer) . The spirits were high!
Then on my way back to Perth, some more cramps reminded me of the dangers of Ironman. Terrible cramps in my cheeks due to excess smiling! After the highs came the post-Ironman race lows and a strange feeling. No 4.15 a.m. wake-up this week, no Kranji loops or track work. Plenty of time to thing about Xmas shopping and the 2010 season.
I signed up for Ironman Nice (27th June 2010) and I am debating whether or not I should enter Langkawi. “Pocket Rocket” Mika and other seasoned triathletes warned me: Ironman can be addictive...
So what did I learn from this day?:
- When things are bad, they can get better. I had two low points half-way through the bike and run courses but things eventually got better.
- Nutrition: everybody warned me that a good nutrition plan was key to success. I would love to find a nutrition plan not involving gels! Not eating enough during the last 5 hours was a mistake.
- Swim: A straight line between two points is always the shortest route!
- Cycling: maybe after all I should invest in this expensive set of wheels! I somehow felt undergeared. Having said that, a disc wheel does not look pretty being riden at 25 or even 30 kmh!
- Running: I had unrealistic targets, and did not put enough quality work in the preparation. Running used to be my forte but I relied too much on past performance. More hill work and track work would have helped!
- Mental: it is easier to swallow an elephant in small pieces. The segmentation strategy worked well and my GPS watch was my best friend to set targets every 2 or 3 km on the run. You cannot always rely on Tony from San Francisco!
__________________________________________________________________________________
The end (or the beginning of a new passion)
Richard