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”