The View from my Bicycle [COLUMN + GRAPHS + VASBYT RACE REPORT + IRONMAN RESULTS]

I'm not going to lie to you. After the half Ironman (now a MONTH ago - jeepers) I really didn't have a reason or an incentive to train. In 4 weeks I cycled 4 times. It's actually even shakier than that. A week after the half Ironman I did a tough 72km (on the Cyclelab route). After that I did just 2 spin sessions (something I never do) and a tough cycle race in the Free State. Take away the spin sessions and the race and I only went out and did a proper training session once. In 4 weeks. That's lousy.

But I can explain. See I'd achieved a longish term goal I'd set probably in December 2008. That was to go under 5 hours in the half Ironman. In the same week as that race it also dawned on me that the Ironman wasn't going to happen. Firstly because I felt I didn't want to deplete my bank balance by a hundred million dollars (and a few million extra for a late entry) and secondly because, with about 5-6 weeks to the Ironman I hadn't run more than 18km. The half Ironman proved at after 14km my legs cracked.

So it was a humility and reality check pulling out of the Ironman, but at the same time, left me without direction. I looked through the Nedbank running race diary and went online but couldn't find any imminent challenges or races. Ja, the Kremetart, but not a good reason to keep myself on the ball. Then there was a week of crap weather and I started letting it slip.

So I went into Vasbyt thinking I might do okay, especially after a decent ride in the Free State two weeks into 'retirement'. Surely I'd have some residual fitness left for VASBYT?

Short answer?

No.

Not after 75km. In fact I had a great race until 75km. The start was ridiculous. You do a horseshoe turn, a sharp u-turn - where you go down a narrow road, very tight run and then up a steep uphill.

After last year's race I was wise to the fact that the guys use the first 300 metres to break away, and they tried it again this year. Since there is no neutral zone it is easy to slip off the front because on the narrow tar trip that exits the starting ground if you have someone slow in front of you you can't get around them.

So I lost the 20 chancers who took off in the first go, but our group was good. Initially about half a dozen of us, we later sucked up a strong girls bunch, of which maybe 3 or 4 stayed with us. We also later sucked up a bunch of tandems.

I had looked at last year's stats and thought improving on those stats would be a snip. 33.7km/h average - bah. 154 average heart rate - must have been unfit. Plus I knew the course conditions, and knew about the initial tricks and climbs and the hard final 30km.

The graph below is from last year's VASBYT. Notice the high heart rate and steep climbs in the first third and the long steady climbs in the last third. Notice also how my heart rate falls off at the end (a sign of lack of fitness).


Cut to this year. Below is the first third again (after that my HRM only intermittently picked up speed and distance, but picked up heart rate and the graph is still fairly useful).
Notice the average heart rate is 153, maximum only 163 (last year 174). My legs were a bit stale from one of those few training sessions in the last 4 weeks - a spin session followed by a run. Look at the average for the first hour or so - 38km/h. Compared to the previous year: almost identical.



This is what I wrote last year:

On the very first hill I felt cold and tight and stiff, and the guys pulled away right away. A group of us chased them, but they slowly drifted away. Then at about 20km or so, if not sooner, two teams - guys in orange and guys in red, white and black - all with deep rims, all in good shape - cruised by us at high speed. I jumped on, and so did another guy in a white Eskom shirt. We motored. For a short while we all took turns working together - this is the beauty of cycling. It looked and felt like a team time trial, and those rims all parting the wind like blades.

Riding in this group I realised how hard the first bunch were going - the bunch that pulled away on the first climb. We sucked in the ladies bunch, and kept right on going. I think we only caught the bunch we'd lost in the 1st km at 50km - this was with very strong riders.

Last year we had the luxury of some very strong guys who basically shepherded us back to the leading group. So a lot of the speed and time was based on the work of others. This year, I did a lot of the work in our group, especially right in the beginning, and on a couple of climbs, flats and downhills. Also, we had a strong crosswind for a lot of the mid-downhill section where we left 2 thirds of our group behind. What was good was that I felt strong on the climbs despite essentially not doing any climbing for a month. VASBYT doesn't really climb a lot as Gauteng based roads go, but 690m is still not to be sniffed at. And a lot of that is right at the bitter end. Look at the graph below and notice how the green line starts to emerge in the last third.


It was about two thirds of the way up the biggest mother of a hill, that I suddenly ran out of steam. I mean I had been setting the pace and been busy right up front and then wham, I suddenly felt I couldn't keep up. Even slip streaming didn't help. I needed the hill to quit and there was still a long way to go. That's where I left the bunch and started limping home. Around about 70-75km. You go over a hill and then there's another monster. About five times I heard myself saying through gritted teeth YISSUS!

I was hoping to go under a time of 3:03 which was what I thought I needed to do. At 70km it looked like it was in the bag, but a few kilometres later I was hanging on for dear life. What made it all worse was I, for some crazy reason, hadn't had a single gu or energy gel. Instead I'd bought a roll of glucose sweets and had been eating 2 or 3 of these at the time the whole way. Unusually also I was riding with no GU2O since my girlfriend had thrown away the container (despite there being one last scoop left). So when I finished I was starry eyed with hypoglycemia. despite my worsening symptoms my sleep and fatigue numbed brain worked on the psychology that it wasn't worth 'wasting' a R15 sachet with 5km to go. Smart eh?

Since my Heart rate Monitor was on the blink, erratically picking up distance and speed probably due to a direct hit on icky bit of crumbling and convoluted tar, I asked passers-by how far. Amazingly everyone said something different. 37km to go/15km to go/5 -10km to go/20km to go. At the finish a guy told me we'd crossed the line at 3:00. We started in the same bunch apparently, but I later checked and my start time was 7:01. It was now 10:05. I tasted the bitterness of defeat. Despite the exertions of last year, fatso me from last year had cycled faster than leaner (and supposedly meaner) me. During the writing of this column it turns out that actually I'd been mistaken. I didn't do a 3:03. I did a 3:04:45 with a lot of help from a strong group that escorted us. This year, we were that strong group. And I'd done a 3:04 - virtually an identical time.

I do take comfort that I rode far more decently than last year.

When I reached 60km I said to the Eskom dude that I was fast approaching my endurance limit - that in the next few km I'd have to start gritting my teeth. Even I didn't have any idea how true that was. If you'd been watching from above in a helicopter it must have looked quite interesting, if not funny. I'd cruise down on the downhills ahead of the pack (this is the original spoedvark bunch fortified with the time-trial team) and so build momentum up the drags, which I was finding to be getting tougher and tougher. Then on the drags almost all the guys would slowly drift by me, but by the time we reached the top, I'd be at the back, but still in touch.

I don't know how many times it happened, but it happened a lot. I realised once again just how much heavier I am than these guys. I mean there's no way it's just a question of being more aero on the downhills.

At about 70km I just couldn't stay in touch, and then I went backwards badly, and quickly. Up until then my average was about 36km/h.

In the bar afterwards one of the guys I rode with said they had finished in 2:48. I told him I only had legs for about 70km, and that I'd fallen off on that long savage climb. I'd like to come to VASBYT with more sleep next year and legs for the FULL EVENT. Third time lucky.

Ironman

'I'm relieved, happy and extremely tired'

Two new champions were crowned at the fifth running of the Ironman South Africa in Port Elizabeth on Sunday when rookie Marino Vanhoenacker of Belgium and Lucie Zelenkova of the Czech Republic won the respective men's and women's titles.

Vanhoenacker, a veteran at 32 of nine Ironman races and with this his fifth victory, broke the course record of eight hours 18 minutes 23 seconds set last year by Briton Stephen Bayliss, with a new best time of 8:17:32.

I wonder what happened to Tissink?

1.19pm

Raynard Tissink is still not speaking to anybody about why he pulled out of the race, although organisers believe it is due to heat exhaustion. A number of professional athletes are walking because of the heat.

SA homeboy Raynard Tissink has withdrawn and taken off his number after stopping at an aid station.

After three races where he was unable to defend his 2005 title, Tissink, who was in third position after Brad Storm and Marino Vanhoenacker, has officially withdrawn from the race after stopping at an aid station. It is not clear what the problem was, but it was reported that he was drinking Coke.

Read about my Half Ironman 2009 here.
Read about my Ironman in 2006 here.

About a week or ago, maybe a week and a half Alex reminded me that this weekend was VASBYT. While my weight has dipped below 80kg for the first time in a LONG time, I left my training volumes too late for the Ironman. I only hit double figures in January, although I had a great 16 hour week in Feb, and tapered nicely after that. I was very happy with how quickly my body improved in strength as I started losing weight - in swimming, running and with some nice results, in cycling. The problem you can see is the low mileage of the last 3 weeks. In fact this week I would have done only 4 hours were it not for the 4 hours I did on Saturday (3 hours of racing plus running and swimming an hour. So I'd like to pick those numbers up.


I do take heart that these numbers (above) while not fantastic are still way up, at least double from same time last year (below).



In 2008 I was averaging a paltry and pathetic 4:11 a week. This year it's up to 8:38 average with the current week slightly above that. I mean to keep it this way. The week ahead I'd like to get to 10 and try to keep it there (at an average of 10 hours a week).

Today my brother did the Ironman in a credible 1:01 swim, a 5:51 bike and a 4:15 run for an overall time of just under 11:07. Nively done CJ. I'd like to be able to compete with that next year. I've run at 3:51 marathon, but would still need to do a lot of work. Would be nice to go a 10:45 or even just under 11. So that's my early goal for 2010, but first there is the half Ironman in East London in January, the half Ironman here in early March next year, this year's duathlon season and then next year's triathlon season. I will probably go for a good time in the OFM. 94.7 is a bit iffy. Hated it last year so will see how I feel closer to the time.

VASBYT was a good race in the sense that it was a warning - relax much more dude and all your hard work is going to slip out the door. Want that to happen? No. But then I have been running a lot, and still want to channel a lot of my training that way. I realise though that I need to keep cycling in the picture, and through winter that's easier said than done. What I need to do, and you is take heed from the picture below. Good luck.

The Adventure is Today

Recollections of an Ironman Triathlon

The day is dawning. I can feel it. It is still dark out there. It is surprisingly quiet for all the shadows and bags and equipment moving lightly in the gloom. It is the proverbial deep breath before the plunge.

It is a great day to have. There were some great days leading up to this one. But now that the day is here, the day of the race, every moment seems to absorb itself. The past slips away and can’t be remembered, and the future retreats closer and closer until all there is is now. I see my hands, I feel my toes. I breathe. Here I am, and who do I think I am?

What creature am I, on this day in the year 2004, to come here with my machine, my neoprene, to race almost 1000 others like me? This day is about living the answer to that question. If you do this race, you do not have to read books on the subject. But for those who will never do an Ironman, here are some words.

Please understand that words to a blind person can never do justice to what sunshine is, or to a paralyzed person, what the flow of water is like around one’s legs, or to someone who is afraid – setting a challenge and setting about meeting it. These are magical things that words can convey, words themselves seem then to be adored, when the lesson is to take the words, throw them away, and find the courage to be all these and other things yourself, in your own deeds. The words that flow from there are yours.

So I write hoping that instead of producing voyeurism, I can inspire, induce action, induce doing. Induce you being you while you witness me being me.
It begins today.

You forget the training. You begin to fear the size of the thing you are approaching. You fret. This jumpiness can be explained in part because you are in peak physical condition, training has been scaled down from dizzy peaks, and your body is buzzing, glowing with energy. It is impossible to not spill energy over the brim, not to overflow sometimes at the sight of other athletes, or a particularly steep hill on the bike course.

I am sharing this experience with you, this experience of being human, of having an understanding of what it is like to live, to be alive, and to be engaged and functioning throughout a fine day on this planet, I am sharing this because I know many do not know.

I know many are lost, and alone and afraid. Many are sleeping, and dying. Many have been caught up in addictions and destructive patterns of behavior. I was. But now I am powerful beyond words. I hope to ring a church bell over the ocean. I hope to stir the waves, to reach you where you lie, some beautiful shipwrecks on the ocean floor. Arise. This is a call to fill your sails with the wind and the sun and the moon.

I look out of the window of my hotel. The nuclear fire swells yellow and purple against the clouds on the horizon. I see my bicycle gleaming. The silver chain has been polished. It sparkles magically at me. And before me, the sea begins to swim with stars. It is time to head down to the transition area with the other athletes. Come with me, and I will show you what the beginning of an Ironman is.

My red machine gleams as light before sunshine kisses us.
A gentle brush with the misty hand of the morning and the hairs of my arms prick up. I shiver, and anticipate the chill of the ocean, the suffocating heat of the run. This glimpse leaves me drunk and sleepy at once. I stand on the steps of the hotel.
How did it come to this?

It is like asking the sea how it happened. You see the sea, vast, immense, and blue. Do the rivers feed the sea, or does the sea, somehow, feed the rivers and become itself? It is this prolonged presence with oneself on a road, over a mountain that you begin to discover that the sea does not begin or end at the beach. It snakes up mountains and flies into the air and circles back in whirls of vapor and wind. It is all a wheel with spokes, spinning everything. In far-flung places with clear air, we see the Milky Rim arcing off the edge of our starry spoke.

In the same way every moment seems to have inevitably curled, pushed, and edged me towards this one. Did I have to conjure up energy? Sometimes. Once it becomes a habit, you swim with the tide, sometimes faster, sometimes treading water. But moving. Moving with a purpose, towards a goal.
The goal is here. Not some time or place in the future, but Now. The world suddenly seems irretrievably large, and glowing.

Now look at what you can live, and then leap in to it.

Dizzy

There is a big whirlwind in my head...
Isn't there a song that goes, "I'm so diz zee..?" Or is it "You're so..."

I felt pretty despondent today. I am intellectually eager to be working, but practically that is just not on the cards. I feel extremely weak.
Slept all day today. Not sure how much of this gnawing empty-headedness is from nurofen, and how much is from the bug that's doing the rounds. I suppose I have the same thing someone else I spoke to has...who said they were sick for 2 weeks. 4 days to go.
Throat is less sore today, which I guess is something.

I'm feeling very glum. I feel like I left South Africa, triumphant and strong, and everything seems to have come undone by pushing myself back to this gray, sterile place. In fact it isn;t gray and sterile - spring and all the associated colors are unfolding. Nonetheless, the life I had, the glimpse of goodness I had back in South Africa is like a kaleidoscope, and here feels like a stained glass window at best.

I think it is unrealistic to think about things in broadstrokes now, or make plans, because I am ill, and frustrated. Really frustrated since the energy that went into the last week was a lot, a lot of it was just pouring out because if you're sick and you continue as normal, you start depleting resources...and now I am feeling quite exhausted.

Although I have 2 fairly decent job offers waiting for me, I honestly feel so confused and delirious I actually think the best thing is to make the first priority just to get back to a state of health. I can't imagine that it will take much longer than 1 or 2 or 3 more days.

More packages (books) have arrived from Amazon, so will busy myself with those.
I've had thought of going to Himachi (India) which borders on Tibet, or Angola, or simply return home. I would probably never act on impulses like that. It's just a state that I am in, and I'm really wanting to escape from it, get away from it.

I believe I just need to be patient, and clear my mind, and let nature take her course with me. Obviously, if I'm sick, I'm doing something wrong, and continuing to push, and insist on what I want isn't helping.

I read an interesting article on News24 about the headmaster of Grey College and the coach of the First Rugby team, going onto the field after a match and basically insulting and shouting at the referee. (Grey lost to Maritzburg 15-13).

It's interesting to read because I went to that school, and both those men were there when I was there, and you look at a guy like Hansie Cronje (who was Volsteedt's prodigy, in a way), and you wonder if these guys don't have a screw loose. If the power and prestige from sport basically has driven these guys, well, not nuts, but made them into partial lunatics. I don't think it bodes well for those guys at school who are not obsessed with rugby, and might have their own challenges and dreams, which the school just will not notice or care about given their fixation with winning rugby and cricket matches.
It's like being at a school that is collectively suffering from a chemical imbalance, and that's not healthy. It's possible that this was happening when I was at school, and it's still true today.
It's a very subtle thing, so it's hard to be certain about, but where there's smoke, there's often something really going on, and this article is possibly a symptom of that.
Just a thought. Part of the story is copied below, from News24:

Moments after Maritzburg College scored a shock 15-13 win over Bloemfontein's Grey College, Test referee Michael Katzenellenbogen was walking off the field when he was confronted by Grey College headmaster Johan Volsteedt and head coach Dries van der Wal.

"I was still on the field when he (Volsteedt) said he was very disappointed with the penalty count," said Katzenellenbogen on Tuesday.

"I explained to him that I don't keep a tally of the penalty count while I'm reffing, to which he replied that it was 25-6 in Maritzburg's favour.

'Came here with a mission'

"He then said the result was totally unacceptable.

"The Grey coach then accosted me and said: 'I know who you are, it's clear to me that you came here with a mission, you're a Super 12 ref's arse?'"

Katzenellenbogen has officiated in three Test matches.

"I said to them that once they had seen a video they were welcome to contact me with any complaints, but I have not heard from them," he said.

A review of the match video revealed a penalty count of 11-8 in Maritzburg College's favour.

"I am in the process of reporting them both to the Midlands Rugby Referees' Society," said Katzenellenbogen, who has just returned to refereeing after a year's sabbatical.

"If a headmaster in a suit can accost a referee on the field, what sort of example is that for schoolboys and rugby public?

"There is so much hype at schoolboy level and people forget the players are still boys.

"But there is such huge expectation to perform being placed on these boys.

"The pressure is being heaped on them by certain teachers, old boys and parents."

Volsteedt told News24 it was not his style to insult players or referees.

Van der Wal declined to comment.

Two weeks ago, Pietermaritzburg referee Llewellyn Muller was assaulted by the parent of a Westville Boys' High School 1st XV player on the same field after Maritzburg College won a nailbiter 16-13.

Incensed about incident

Andrew Nicholson, president of the MRRS, said on Tuesday that the lack of safety for referees and touch judges at school matches was reaching crisis point.

"An increasing number of spectators, teachers and coaches are becoming more and more confrontational, accosting referees both on the field and in the changeroom."

Nicholson was incensed at the Katzenellenbogen incident.

"What do these people want? Michael is a Test match referee. This is a school game for goodness sake."

(For the full story click on the title of this post)