Since I didn't have time to write a race report, how about this one from Caroline. But first: my picture...
So,
how was the Iron ManIron WomanIron Blonde?
by Caroline Brawner
Yes, even
blondes can do the Iron Man. The above
question was asked of me upon my entering the Fish Hoek Athletic Club on the
first Wednesday after the event. There
were actually seven of us from the Club who were courageous enough or foolhardy
enough (you choose) to attempt the 2001 Iron Man Africa in Gordons Bay on 31
March. Im pleased to report that all seven finished with quite respectable
times.
For me, it
all started when I swam the Fish Hoek Mile in December and discovered that,
after not swimming a stroke for two years and never having swum more than half
a kilometre in my life, I could actually do it. Mind you, I took twice as long as the first woman but, since
shed been a Fish Hoek nipper and therefore had gills and webbed feet, I was
impressed with my attempt. That warm,
tingly feeling that comes after successfully finishing event (or maybe it was
just the feeling come back into my frozen limbs) got me thinking that I might
actually be able to do the 3.8 kilometre swim in the Iron Man.
For those
of you who dont know, the Iron Man began as a challenge between some friends
in Hawaii. Each had participated in the
3 big (separate) island events--a 3.8 km swim, a 180 km cycle and a standard
marathon of 42.2 km--and they wanted to see if they could do all three events
back to back. What is about humans that
they just cant leave well enough alone, that they seem to always make life
more difficult than it has to be???
The Hawaii
Iron Man is the granddaddy and still the most sought-after of the dozen-plus
Iron Man triathlons that now take place around the world. South Africa entered the field last year
with about 250 participants (relay teams were permitted as well but only for
that first year) and already by the second year over 750 athletes (who
obviously should be under close psychiatric observation) participated. An astounding 40% were from overseas (See,
South Africa isnt the only country full of crazies!). Needless to say, this is the best thing to
happen to the Gordons Bay economy in years.
The reality
of entering the race hit shortly after the Christmas holidays when I suddenly
realised that I would actually have to do some training. This wasnt the usual South African
laid-back Oh, is there a marathon this weekend? thing; I had to do some
homework this time. As a member of the
former Health and Raquet Club, I made use of the Constantia pool about twice a
week as I didnt have a proper wetsuit yet.
This was another of the surprises of the Iron man: the hidden costs. Virtually everyone wears a triathlon
wetsuit. Not only do these keep you
warm but they provide buoyancy and streamlining. However, they definitely arent free. My Coral wetsuit (yes, Im blatantly advertising coz I really
like the friendly folks at Coral) cost 900 rands. But, I promise you, it was well worth it! Unfortunately, since there was a rush on
triathlon wetsuits at that time, they ran out of material and I didnt get my
suit till just a few weeks before the event.
My next
concern was the cycling. Ive always
enjoyed cycling but Ive always been slow.
Ive had this theory that the reason is because the bike usually weighs
nearly as much as me (OK, OK, about one third) but Ive come to realise that I
really am slow. Of course, training
would help and I didnt do nearly enough.
Some short rides and three long rides (including a casual Argus) werent
enough despite the fact that I borrowed a very nice, 8 kg bike with more than
the usual number of gears for road bikes.
The running
was the one thing I didnt worry about and, what with the other training, I
probably ran less than I normally would have in those two months. The Sports Science Institute asked all the
Iron Man competitors to fill out a form with all the details of their training
in the 30 days leading up to event.
They probably had a good laugh over mine: not only was it minimal but it
included 2 adventure races (I didnt describe in detail the adventure race
activity that required the 3 teammates to propel 3 inner tubes tied together
across a dam for a distance of 600 metres.)
Three days
before the Iron Man, I went to Gordons Bay for registration. I got my goodie bag then put myself into the
hands of the Sports Science Institute.
Every athlete had his/her weight taken (just after Id eaten half a
large pizza), pulse and blood pressure measured, and two vials of blood
taken. This last seemed a bit
unfairjust when I needed my blood most, they were taking it from me! They told me to shut up and go carbo-load.
At the registration,
they had given us all sorts of coloured plastic bags and numbers. The night before the race was spent putting
numbers on the bike, the wetsuit, the swim cap, on the back of the cycling
outfit and on the front of the running vest.
At the start, I got numbers written on my arms and legs plus I wore a
champion chip velcrod around my ankle.
There may have been other problems during the Iron Man but mistaken
identities wouldnt be one of them!
The plastic
bags all had my race number on them. The
red one was for the bike leg, the blue for the run leg, the yellow was the
special needs bag for the run leg, the green was the special needs bag for the
bike leg and the white was the finish bagor something like that. The idea behind all this confusion was that
when we came running out of the water, wed yell our race number and some
lackey would produce the appropriate bag.
Wed dash into the male or female tent (there was a female who ran into
the male tent!) and change into the cycling kit in the bag; same for the cycle
to run transition. The special needs
bags were optional and would be waiting at the cycle and run turn-around
points.
One of the
nice things about the Iron Man is its civilised start time: 7 AM. This has a lot to do with the fact that the
first event is swimming and it really helps if you can see the buoys (more on
that later). Unfortunately, the calm
sunny weather all the week before the Iron Man had given way to southeaster
winds during the night. Now, coming
from Fish Hoek, I not only expected a southeaster after 6 calm days but I
reckoned I would not be unnerved by a little Cape breeze like some of the
foreign participants. However, I was
surprised throughout the day by how many directions a southeast wind can blow
from over on the other side of False Bay.
The first surprise was that the start was delayed by 15 minutes because
the buoys had been blown out of placefurther out to sea. Yes, the southeaster blows down from Sir
Lowrys Pass and out into the bay!
The start
was a water start meaning we didnt run into the water en masse but rather
swam a hundred metres out into the water.
The professionals (versus us age group competitors) were positioned in
the front. We could tell because of the
colour of their swim capsred for men, white for women as opposed to our blue
and yellow. (I wondered about the
number of gays in the race as I saw several men in yellow caps???)
Anyway, 7
AM came and went while we were bobbing around in the water like so much shark
bait. People began to grumble and teeth
began to chatter, especially amongst those with sleeveless wetsuits. Word spread about the buoys having moved but
so did complaints that someone should have noticed this problem before 7
AM. About 7:15 the gun fired and we
were off. I swam well, thinking the
waves werent half bad, until I reached the second turn (it was a triangle
course) and suddenly met the wind head on.
Even though I have excellent vision, the foggy goggles, the rising sun
in my eyes and the waves creating considerable crests and troughs made it very
difficult to see the very distantly placed buoys. Apparently I wasnt the only one with this problem and it became
evident that following the people in front of me was not a great strategy; it
was a case of the blind following the blind.
Eventually a surfski came over and told us to Go left but I still
couldnt spot the buoy. He came back a
few minutes later and repeated the instructions. Eventually I spotted a buoy but it was the second oneI never did
see the first one and wonder just how much time I wasted swimming zigzags. I later asked why the front competitors
dont have trouble finding their way and learned they have a lead boat. Must be nice.
After 1
hour and 19 minutes I got vertical againnot without some difficultyand dashed
toward the showers and female tent. I
had read that there would be wetsuit peelers to assist our transition but I had
assumed these would be in the appropriate tent, not out in the open. This presented a problem as I had decided to
save time by not wearing a costume under my wetsuit. I was barely out of the water when a big burly guy approached me
and started to pull down my wetsuit. I
jumped back and said I didnt have a costume on but hed been given his instructions
and said he was supposed to peel my wetsuit for me. Not wanting to create an international incident for all the media
there, I held onto my wetsuit and dashed for the female tent before my peeler
got too insistent.
The
transition was a real pleasurenever before have I had someone to help dress
me. My personal assistant (a woman this
time although I later heard that there were women helping in the male tent and
many men were not amused) dumped out the contents of my plastic bag, grabbed
the towel and helped dry me off, held my cycling shorts as I got into them and
tried to help me put on my shoes and socks but we discovered this is an
activity best done one foot at a time.
While I was putting on my gloves, she smeared sunscreen over my arms, legs
and face. As I ran out of the tent,
putting on my dark glasses and helmet, she called Good luck and cleaned up
the mess Id left behind. I could get
used to this personal assistant stuff!
Once on the
bike, I cycled through the small but enthusiastic crowd and toward
Kleinmond. The wind was still moderate
for my first loop and I enjoyed the stunning views along the route. Someone I met on the second loop said hed
seen a whale (it was too soon for him to be hallucinating despite it being very
much the wrong season for whales). By
the time I reached Kleinmond, virtually everyone I knew who was racing had
passed me so I was pretty certain I would not set a cycling speed record. While it was drizzling from Bettys Bay to
Kleinmond all day, it was sunny between Rooi Els and Gordons Bay but we were
very fortunate in having quite moderate temperatures.
The front
riders passed me (on their second lap) soon after Id made my first turn at
Kleinmond. My cycle was sooo slow that,
by my second loop, the only people I had for company were those who were having
mechanical problems, were seriously overweight (I later saw that one get into a
rescue vehicle) and the friendly Brit who told me he had done his training in
minus 8 degree weather. Now thats dedication! In general, my ride was pleasant and there
were no hills that could compete with Ou Kaapse Weg; it was just unbelievably
long! My bum got very sore on the first
loop but must have gone numb by the second one. It was still painful to sit in a chair two days later!
There were
three negatives on my second loop: the running out of supplies at the water
tables, the wind and the traffic. The
first was due to poor planning and I was not impressed that the second sponsor,
Energade, underestimated both the cycle and the run legs. As to more solid refreshment, after nearly
dying of starvation during last years Comrades after believing what people
told me about so much food being available (no, I didnt try running up to the
closest skottle braai and asking for a vegetarian patty), I had learned my
lesson and carried a bag of goodies on my bike. Still, by about 2 pm I was feeling the distinct need for solid
food and was thinking it was hopeless as I hadnt seen a bread roll, except
half eaten ones on the ground, for several hours. Then a miracle occurred:
as I passed the next water table, virtually empty except for water, a
guy held out a cheese and tomato sandwich.
Im certain theres a place in Heaven waiting for that man. I dont think Ive ever enjoyed a simple
cheese and tomato sarmi so much in my life!
By about
midday, it was evident that Weatherman Pete had been severely wrong in his
prediction of a 35 kph southeaster. It
was a long, hard battle to get back to Kleinmond the second time but at least
it was a breeze coming back. Except
that bay between Rooi Els and Gordons Bay.
I dont know its name but I will always remember it as Hell. So, for the first time in my life I finally
have a nice light bike and here I am wishing like anything that I had my good
solid, stable mountain bike. The winds
in this section had no rhyme or reason, whipping down hills, around corners,
coming from the left and the right, from in front and behind. On several occasions, it pushed me from
behind faster than I could pedal then all of a sudden it would push me back
with the same force so that it was all I could do to keep moving forward at a
crawl. But the worst was the
crosswinds. I tried to cycle along the
line in the middle of the road so that I had maximum room when the wind would
suddenly shove me left or right. The
problem with this strategy was that, since the front riders had long since
finished their cycle leg, the road had been opened again and whole lines of
cars would go by me. They were polite
and didnt hoot but they would subtly try to herd me back over to the side of
the road where I should be. Safe and
secure in their solid cars, they were clueless that I was battling just to stay
upright and was scared to death that Id be blown off the road. This section was about 5 kilometres long
but, to me, it was the longest part of the race. I later heard that one woman had been blown off her bike and over
the retaining wallshe was in hospital.
I also heard of another woman who had been blown off her bike
twice. No man I spoke to seemed to be
particularly bothered by this phenomenontypical!
I was
ecstatic that I finished the cycle leg an hour before the cut-off time but was
a little dispirited when, not half a kilometre from the transition point, I
heard the loud speaker very excitedly announcing the arrival of the first
womanhaving finished her marathon run before Id even gotten off the
bike! The good news was that Id
finally gotten to my sport and, having done such a slow (though not easy)
cycle, I still had energy left. This
was in major contrast to many of the runners.
I heard complaints about the wind which, by now, was gusting up to 100
kilometres an hour but otherwise very little chit chat. Facial expressions were decidedly
determined. By my second loop along the
Strand, it was like the walking wounded returning from battle. I motored along at a steady pace although I
have to admit my steps were the small strides of tired legs. Much of the run route was either straight into
the wind or with it directly behind.
The latter was not as pleasant as one might think because our tired legs
couldnt take full advantage of it. I
often felt like a rag doll being picked up and thrown aroundI was not in
control of my movements. The headwinds
were sometimes so strong that it simply felt like Ollie Le Roux had his hands
on your shoulders and was trying to push you backwards. The most disagreeable aspect of the wind was
the sand and road grit that was constantly blown into our faces and
mouths. When a gust would do this
unexpectedly with 100 km force, it made a poke in the eye with a sharp stick
seem a pleasant alternative.
I felt
reasonably strong during the run and I cheerily greeted friends I hadnt seen
since theyd long since passed me on the cycle leg. Once again, I had food and squeezies with me and what a
difference that made as the water tables were seriously low on everything. By my second loop, whole water tables had
packed up as they had nothing left. I
also knew Id be finishing in the dark and had taken a long sleeved Cape Storm
top tied around my waist. Others,
especially walkers, suffered in the wind and evening chill. The organisers actually drove along the
route handing out t-shirts; a few people were wrapped in black plastic
bags. There was a stunning sunset but I
dont think many of the people still running appreciated it. It was such a sorry lot that I joked with or
gave words of encouragement to all the women, many of whom had passed me on the
cycle but now I was passing them (plus
an awful lot of men!)
I finished
in 14:29:55 which meant sometime after 9:30 PM. There were volunteers at the end who put my medal on me and took
my arm to lead me to the medical tent.
They weighed me; I think Id only lost a kg but it was hard to tell
since the last time I was weighed was in my wetsuit. Then I was laid on a stretcher with all the other finishers
(*MASH* without the blood) with the tent flapping like it was trying to take
off. They took my blood pressure and
pulse and one vial of blood. In
exchange for this last, I was given Energade although I heard earlier finishers
were offered proper food (which was actually left overs from the dinner brought
for the volunteers). Having cooled
down, I nearly froze on the walk on the 50 metre walk to the tent with the
plastic bags. I put on warm gear,
hoisted the other bags and trundled off into the dark night.
A bit
anticlimactic but there were few well wishers left as it was cold and blowing a
gale. Still, some of my best memories
of the race were the enthusiastic volunteers in all stages of the race, right
up till the end, providing encouragement despite the fact that they were
probably as nearly exhausted as the athletes.
A few running friends from Fish Hoek and other clubs showed up for a few
hours and cheered us on but most had given up by nightfall. I have to admit the Iron Man is not much of
a spectator sport; you only see people at the transition point so I especially
appreciated the support.
The next
morning most of the competitors showed up for prize giving--probably because it
included a free buffet breakfast containing those foods the racers had avoided
during months of rigorous training. The
age group winners were given automatic placement in the Hawaii Iron Man but not
any money to help get there. Sadly,
most of the southern African winners had to decline but all the Europeans and
Americans jumped at the opportunity. I predict
well be seeing an even higher percentage of overseas competitors next year.
We all
poured over the race photos that were sale, exchanged war stories and then
hobbled off back to our regular lives--with thoughts of coming back next year
after promising to do more training next time!