the damage done
Triathlon Training Blog, Wednesday, October 14th, 2015Off the bike at the dismount line run in towards t2. someone takes my bike from me someone else gives me my run bag. Trainers on hat on . New set of gel flasks .its busy in the change tent . Pick up a full tube of factor 50 just pour it on. Shoulders arms the lot. Come out of t2 looking like casper the ghost.Up the hill and out onto the first section down Ali i drive
Mentally i have broken the run up into 3 chunks. The first chunk is ‘in town’ run down ali i drive along the coast. Its all residential theres a lot of shade . Is undulating but not too bad. This is approximately 10 miles.
The second chunk is the crusher. The long run all the way out to the energy lab on the Queen k highway. Its exposed , featureless , long straights ,souless , the hottest part of the island. No shade.moon like landscape. Bit like running down an empty M4 .This is around 8 miles. The most soul destroying lonely 8 mile run you cant even imagine.Into the lava fields again back along the bike course basically .
The third part is the run in. Mentally i have figured this to be an ‘ easy bit’ as you are running home. You just retrace your steps from the energy lab back into town. How wrong this evaluation would turn out to be.
So, out of T2 into the 40 degree heat and start a 26 mile run that will take a very long time to forget. A very long time
Initially i feel ok. Moving ok,despite having pushed the bike a bit and not being able to run since the first week of august. Calf feels fine. Give it 10 mins and i’m into the run. Business as usual. there are plenty of people cheering everyone on as we leave town down to the far end of the beach on ALi i drive. Bit of a carnival atmosphere. People outside their houses having a fine olde time some with hose pipes watering us down in between feed stations(life support stops)
Once again the feed stops take on a specific routine. There are 26 out on the run course and i stopped and did this at every single one. From the first to the last. I darent miss one. The heat was beyond stifling. Waves of heat would heat you at times and you couldnt breath.
Feed station routine.
Into the feed station. Cup of water, cup of gatorade. Every 6 miles a salt tablet. I’d already necked another lot of paracetamol to try to keep the temp down plus ibruprofen and bromelian to try to keep the calf in check.
After your fluids its ice. It took 2 or 3 feed stops to master this one. The ice comes in small cups. So in no particular order. One cup of ice goes down the front of your shorts. The next down the back of your shorts. The third and fourth u get someone to pour into your tri vest pockets (which are right by your kidneys) Then one cup of ice in your hat then u hold ice in both your hands as u go. Thats the routine. Believe me you start looking for the next stop well before it arrives .
Just before the turn at Ali i wont say disaster struck as thats a bit strong but my calf just popped. OH NOOOoooo. I was a bit gutted and let it get to me for a spell. A mile later i went up a hill and i could almost feel it tearing as the angle of my foot changed to meet the incline. Just after this I saw Aled coming towards me. I had around 2 miles lead on him no more. We high fived. I thought that was it. I went through the what if scenario of walking the next 18 miles just to finish. If i’m being honest thats just not me. I dont think i could do it from a mental point of view. I just kept moving. Run was the only option. Again i wont say ‘pain’ but niggle or irritation ebbed and flowed in my lower left leg . But , you could argue quite correctly, how bad could it have been as i still ran 21 miles with it and got the marathon done in well under 4 hours?! Perhaps it was the fear of what could happen rather than what was happening. Morale took a dip here and i trudged on. I saw my sister as i left kona town. Smile David smile look in the camera. ‘FUCK OFF’ im dying here was my happy go lucky ironman marathon response.
Onto the run to the energy dome. Here the feed station routine had another dimension added to it. In plastic bins full of ice water were the drinks being kept cool . There were 2 or 3 of these at every stop. As it got melt the road hot on the Queen k i had had enough. So i just walked up to the ice water bin bent over it and put my arms shoulders and head in it for a good 10 seconds. This seemed to take the marshalls aback a bit. I was boarding on delirious now with the heat and i simply didnt care. being DQed would be a gift. I think their initial response was shock but they soon got into it . I put my head so forcefully into one ice bin that i hit a can of coke and split my forehead open. It didnt register at the time. I just didnt care.I was almost begging them to kill me to stop this.
The other problem was the fear of dehydration . I simply felt i had to drink at every feed station. The side effect of this, as clearly i dont have enough to deal with with heat stroke ,heat exhaustion , torn soleus, pepsi cola wound to the head(other cola drinks are available) , was a constant nagging stitch. You are constantly full of fluids. Sloshing around in there. The fluid intake is a very fine balancing act and i was definitely going to risk too much than too little. The fun we were all having.
I finally made it to the turn at the energy lab. I hadnt checked this out before hand . As i left the Queen k i thought its only a mile down and a mile back. It wasnt . Thats what the brochure said but it simply wasnt. It wasnt even a country mile down there. It felt like 10.it was 10 end of story. it stretched out into the shimmering haze of blast furnace heat as far as the eye could see. At this point as far as the eye could see could be measured in metres. All focus had gone and the ability to lift my head up. I just didnt want to see. I trudged ,hopped, shuffled,crawled along.
As i turned towards home 9 miles to go back down the same god forsaken stretch of road i started to focus on the runners coming towards me. I was looking for Aled. I simply didnt want to be beaten by him. He is an excellent athlete and, as i have said before its not if he beats me its when.I just didnt want it to be today , not here.
I saw him far too soon. He had taken half my lead over him back. In my mind he was positively bounding towards me, skipping as light and free as a lamb in springtime. Happy with everything and every one in the world. I couldve cried, screaming would require too much energy. I think i caught a sob in my throat.Something gave as The guy running next to me looked at me sideways and moved away. The moment francos world fell apart on a lonely bit of dust on a volcanic rock.
I had to have a word. I wasnt beaten yet. SHIT THE BED. I’ve got to find something from somewhere.
From somewhere. it came . No way not today or die trying. this was beyond digging deep as that is a conscious act. this was something more. primal. I will never forget those last 9 miles .never. try as i might.I actually felt bits of me slowly dying as the days efforts started to take over my body. like a blackness creeping slowly through my soul .soon it would envelop me. The unadulterated suffering. It was all a blur that lasted for infinity . Every bone jarring step felt like a tear ,anxiety . Tears of fears .The fear of losing was greater than any physical pain i was now feeling. ON ON ON. I didnt look back not once. I couldnt handle what the reality i may see would hold. I felt he was on me. I poured it on. Everything i had and more , i was nearly crying in pain. Never before have i had to do this,never. I started pulling people back. Athletes that had passed me miles ago were being caught and dropped. And still i pushed on.
the miles ticked by. Then 2 miles to go. i couldnt take any more. I had come to the part of the course known as the Iron wall. The last climb up to the turn off the queen k before the final run down hill to town and the finish.
I stopped running. The world stood still. My own lungs gasping for air screamed deafening in my ears i had no more. So this is how it feels to fail.this is how it ends. I stared up this half mile hill and stared it may as well have been everest.i couldnt go on.no more. my race was done
Then another triathlete in one sentence turned it all around. in the heat of the war when the battle had reached its zenith .When all seemed lost. A selfless act. I never got his number. i didnt ask his name. But will never forget him. He was young which made it ,perhaps more poignant .
He said ‘this is known as the Iron Wall’ ‘The last part that can crush the last of your spirit’ He put his hand on my shoulder looked me in the eye (which was no small feat as they were twisting and contorting and rotating willy nilly in their sockets and simply said, ‘u can do this, u are nearly home!’
He moved on. i stood there for a second then two and watched the world passing me by,it had starting moving again.i needed to move.
i watched him in a pain all his own slowly ascend the wall and i began to follow. one foot was placed gingerly in front of the other like a babys first steps, unsure, wobbly then the other , a walk became a shuffle,became a jog and i followed this man up the Iron wall. It was …… a moment. I felt i owed this man everything. Everything good about human endeavor had been played out in those few precious seconds. When a few selfless words/acts of a stranger made someone believe again.Believe.
Its the only reason we race. Moments like these. When someone sees you cant make it on your own and simply puts their own needs aside and helps get you through your darkest hour. It was …..an amazing thing to happen.
I reached the top .I’d never felt more alive (relatively speaking)Downhill to the finish.1 mile I passed my new best mate and said ‘so long sucker’ and romped it home. I was, all jokes aside , more than spent. I remember nothing of the finishing chute, its not even a blur.I needed to be carried from the line. beyond tears beyond emotion .Nothing left to give. nothing.
but
i was smiling on the inside
(as they readied the ambulance)
10 hours 16 mins
It was indeed, ‘quite a day at the races’
