Sorry sorry sorry ! Away for a week – no access to Internet, but time to write this not-so-short recollection of how I spent some 4 hours and 33 minutes of my life on the streets of Frankfurt last month.
A bit of tin for all the work
A four lap circuit around the ‘Main’ river in downtown Frankfurt. Each lap resembling a ‘H’ as we started in the middle and proceeded to each of the four extremities … confused? See here! So each lap had us along the river side, and crossing over two bridges – the terrain varied from pathway to cursed cobblestones. They didn’t bother me too much on the bike, but man they helped turn the screw on the run.
Time per lap – Position in age group
58.46 - 310th
1:09.29 - 380
1:14.03 - 344
1:11.26 - 292 , aha an improvement
At time of writing this report I still don’t have any HR details for the run – as mentioned in earlier postings the day before the race itself I experienced some operational problems with the Garmin, and so ended up doing the run leg with a Polar HRM and strap, having done the bike leg with a Garmin HRM and strap. Having the Polar allowed me to keep an eye on my heart rate, and to be aware of the various kilometre splits along the way. (Each KM was marked). I had originally hoped to run according to a pre-determined ‘pace’ which was slower than what I was used to in training .. but god loves an optimist. And now I know better …the hard way ;-(
So off the bike, quick change and off I go … just outside the main start area – no more than 200 m down the road, I meet with the WAGS – Sandra, Leyla and Susan. All cheers and good luck. At this stage I am feeling much better than I thought I would to be honest – as mentioned earlier I hadn’t pushed the bike too much – fear? caution? prudence?
A quick hello, and a quick potty-stop and we’re off on the ironman shuffle for some 42 kilometres.
Ready to run 42k
At different stages in the run, I’d remember to try to focus on good technique – quick light feet, head up, body somewhat erect and all that jazz … however it must be said that a lot of things go through your head when running for over 4 hours. Perhaps the difference between me as a ‘back of pack’ athlete, and the really good guys are their ability to really focus on what they are doing .. at times I was thinking about the run, other times I was congratulating myself on getting this far, then I might switch to the guy/girl in front of me particularly if I was passing them a couple of times and they then re-passing me; even “work” came into my stream of consciousness from time to time; family of course came into focus … but never once did I feel I couldn’t do this – no, this was the one place in the world that I wanted to be at that particular time.
The first lap went well, just under the hour per lap which was my initial pre-race target and considering that this included WAG and ‘wee’ stop, I thought I was going great and was looking forward to cranking it up a wee bit in later laps.
[As far as I can remember…] I was taking on water at all food stations, but not Gels as per my pre-race plan. … even now I don’t really know why to be honest, other than the flavour of gels available at the first couple of stations weren’t what i had had before so skipped them. Instead i had sections of orange and one or two crackers. Again away from the heat of battle, on mature recollection, I’d have to question what was going through my head at the time – oranges and crackers? Why ? Now I don’t think they particularly negatively effected me, however all advice prior to the race was to stick to what you know and what your body is used to … why on earth would I start eating things which rarely eat at the best of times?
Into the second lap, and I get the bright idea to try to tag behind a particular chap who was a lap ahead of me, but didn’t seem to be running way faster than me. I thought it would be a good idea to let him drag me along for a wee while – it worked in training as my training partners invariably would help push me that little bit faster & longer. To me the trick was to find the right chap – not too fast and not too slow. In hindsight this is NOT a good idea, stick to your own pace and either learn to concentrate properly or do something to keep you on track, but don’t worry about others runners and what they might or might not be doing. I stayed with this guy for some 2-3 water stations and then I was cooked …about half way around the second lap (so we’re some 14-15kms in to the run, some 125 miles into the day itself) is where I encountered my trouble – big trouble.
Both legs began to take turns to cramp, both above and below the knees. One attack of cramp can be an unpleasant experience, but when you’ve just got over an attack in the other leg, or a different muscle “spasming” (is there such a word?) in the same leg, then it’s tough physically and mentally when its breaking out all over your body – well its yours in name only – it seems to have a mind of its own completely.
So although my HR was fine (even quite low) I was unable to move any way quickly as I could feel the legs cramping at any opportunity. I could also feel a pain behind my right knee – not bad enough to stop me, but certainly would slow me down and i wouldn’t start a race with it the way it was. Every part, particularly from the waist down was beginning to complain. The small ups-and-downs as we went from river bank running to the bridges didn’t help in anyway at all, nor the small sections of cobblestone which made life a misery! I really struggled for I’d say the guts of a full lap – mid lap 2 through to mid lap 3!
On lap 2, when it was starting to hurt I was telling myself to (just) get to where Sandra and the girls were located; once I would get there I would allow myself a ‘rest’ … but in the meantime I would try to keep walking and shuffling along. People along the way are doing their best to lift my spirits – well not me alone of course; but all the athletes have their first name (and nationality printed prominently enough to read off their race number (bar Oran of course who didn’t quite know his family name from this first name!) So its great to hear shouts from strangers “come on Rodney”, and I’m sure its equivalent in German. The volunteers at the aid stations are saying … ‘hi Rodney, have some water’; ‘have some bananas,’ whatever …even the doctors got in on the act – as I’m descending the path down from the second bridge towards the end of the second lap so its downhill and cobblestones I’m not in good shape and I’m glad that there’s no wife or mother around to see me … “hey Rodney – how are you doing? Do you want some help?” comes from the medical tent as I pass by at a fierce rate of knots (probably 1 or 2 tops). No way José ! There’s no way I’m letting Doctor Goebbels or whoever he is get his mitts on me – the only person who is going to say I’ve had enough is me. So I actually speed up away from the medical tent for all of 25 metres, and around the bend I’m back into cramp mode. I get to the end of the second lap ready for some ‘TLC’, but ‘WTF’ – there’s no sign of my beloved??? O man – its getting better – I’m on my own – where could they be, and me in my hour of need. I must admit to a dose of feeling rather sorry for myself at this stage … even take the drastic step of stopping to do some actual stretching.
And then I feel I had my moment of inspiration – from somewhere somehow I get the idea to take on SALT. During the first lap I was wondering to myself “why are they offering salt”? Each and every aid station had a great range of ‘stuff’ to hand over – coke, red bull, water, ice, gels, bananas and salt. Good old sodium chloride if I remember my chemistry. Flash!!! In a moment of divine inspiration it strikes me as to why they have them available … for cramping stupid! I began to take in sachets of salt – initially ‘raw’ and washed down by water, and then after a bit of inspired McGyver-like thinking I mixed it in the water before drinking. Some coke usually then to take the salty taste away … and in 3-4 kms i felt much better. Not exactly fresh, but way way better than before. In previous adventures (Letape 07 and Letape06) I had encountered some training sessions where I had cramp attacks, thankfully nothing in the actual races themselves, but I had read somewhere that a lack of salt amongst other things caused cramp. On the bike I had taken on board 2 Nuun tablets, but in hindsight this was really only able to sufficient to get me to the end of the bike, and didn’t take into account the replenishment I would need to run a marathon.
Even now, I don’t know for sure whether this was the real solution to my problems or perhaps it was a placebo and that it was just a not-so-funny phase that I was going though. The well known ‘wall’ that marathon runners hit around 20 miles – no I’m taking my symptoms as something different – for me, the body (lungs, heart, arms, head ..) were all relatively okay, it was just the legs who were rebelling against the cause big time. I don’t think that I ran out of energy (read food), more a case of not having the right salt balances in my body. So as I’m progressing into the 3rd lap I’m feeling better; the prospect of cramping is receding. Whilst I’m still only hitting 6:30 – 7 minutes kilometres, that’s way better than the 7-8-8:30 that I was doing some way back the road.
Half way around the third lap I can see L. (nominally of the 3dtri club, but for the week he had been an honorary Pulser) ahead of me. I’m up high on the path beside the main road running one way (slowly) and he’s down below at the river bank running the other way … I had passed him when he was really struggling on lap 1 … funny the first thing I thought was that somehow he’s cheated. He’s got the same number of ‘bands’ on as me – how could he be ahead of me? For the next 5-10 minutes I’m working this out in my head, and eventually come to the conclusion that he passed me be it an aid station or during my session of stretching. I’m not wearing any Pulse gear so he wouldn’t have necessarily recognised or greeted me. In lap one he was really struggling, now he’s going great –this acts as a spur as at this time I’m hoping that my troubles in the main are behind me.
Further on in the third lap, I think I can see two of my club mates ahead of me. Again like with L, they are on the way back whilst I’m on the way out to the turn-around point. I’m guessing they are some 1-1.5 clicks (KM) ahead of me, but between seeing how well L had recovered and how well I seem to be recovering the prospect of catching or even trying to catch my buddies helps me big time. I now have renewed focus, I’m not just going to get around this course – I’m going to give it some “sox” for a wee while. Please don’t consider that what happened next was that there a great surge in acceleration a lá the likes of Sebastian Coe (who?) in his hey-day; or that there was a graceful spring-like step to me – no I doubt there was any noticeable difference to my stride or ‘gimp’. Instead it was more a mental thing – less water stations, less thinking about life, the universe and all that jazz. I’ve spent 6 odd months of my life in preparation for this day, so lets not leave it with regrets …
End of lap 3
Sandra and co are at their designated spot at the end of the third lap (hurray!); Sandra runs/walks with me for maybe a hundred metres and tells me how great I am – she says I’m doing brilliantly and all that, I don’t really remember. It was super to have her there at that time, a real tonic and further confirmation of my good spirits. It was really from this point on that I actually started to enjoy my run. I now knew for certain that I was going to finish my Ironman – I was getting stronger, whilst others around me were struggling, and I’m on my last lap. So I’m actually able to thank some of the marshals and supporters who had been there for me on the previous laps. Their support was great all day, so it was good to be able to give them something back other than the shrug or smile which is what they would have got in the good old bad times.
Anyhow back to the 4th and final lap, and I’ve not seen my club mates again and so I’m assuming it wasn’t them at all or perhaps they have kicked on themselves – good for them. Still it didn’t matter I had my ‘mojo’ and I was going to finish my Ironman strongly – negative split how are you! Then with about 5-6 km to go, just over half a lap to go I can see D. He sees me too and shouts something like are you on your last lap too … thankfully I am! He’s perhaps 200m tops ahead of me, but seems to be struggling and so I soon catch up with him. We walk together for a wee while, run for a small bit but he wants me to go on and not have him hold me up.
As we’re shuffling along we come across two largish ladies who I hadn’t noticed so far in my laps … I’m reading the slogan they both have on their T-shirts, and it takes a couple of seconds for it to sink in my slightly out-of-focus brain. … “No finish – No sex”. Fair play to them, it brought the biggest smile to my face for the last 11 odd hours. Alas I wasn’t able to come up with any of my legendary witty repartee, and could only manage some basic response to acknowledge them and insist I was doing my best. Something along the lines that I will return but it would probably be quite a long time before I would be back was answered by yes they would wait. We gave them a noticeable burst of acceleration before once again resuming the ironman shuffle, albeit with spirits well lifted.
We’ve another 4-5 clicks to go, so there’s not a case to stay with D and come home together. I’m looking at my watch and thinking that maybe I can break 12 hours. I’m not sure if the watch is accurate, if its ahead of time or behind – or even did we actually start on time? But its another motivator to keep me going. I’m now only using every second Water station – the last 2 or 3 clicks are almost a pleasure, there’s no stopping me – I’m passing a lot of walkers now. Some with 4 laps done and are on their way to the finish line like me, but many others with 3, 2 and some with only 1 lap done – god help them they have a long evening/night ahead of them.
Anyhow I’m finishing – I’m going to be an IronMan. Those early mornings in the winter to get to the pool; those long Sundays with the Ironman chain gang – this is what I was doing it for … this is it ! Into the finish chute, great crowds cheering etc. The group of Wives & Girlfriends are somewhat surprised to see that I’m home next but I see them and big waves etc. I don’t remember much of the last 50 yards in the chute – don’t remember hearing my name called out – nothing/nada/zilch – perhaps a pity, but it was over the line -> job done!!
Finish chute
I wasn’t too tired at the end of it to be honest – I seemed to recover quickly once over the line. A number of the lads went for a Drip at the end of it. Some of them definitely needed it – others took it as a precaution. For me, I didn’t feel too bad at all – which probably means that actually I didn’t give it my complete all – but that’s easy to say now. In the run there was the problem of push too hard and go into cramp mode, or go too easy and take forever. It was tough particularly for the rough 45+ mins of cramping before the Salt.
Home for 11.53 and I have to be happy with that … with obvious grounds to improve on all three sections.
I get over the line and Sandra’s there beside me … she’s crying her eyes out, and I must admit I did share a little tear (or two) with her. Be it relief, be it happiness, be it perhaps just a release on the self imposed pressure that I had put myself under … I had taken on the challenge of an ironman and in my mind I had accomplished something that would not be considered normal behaviour. Some 99.9% of the population wouldn’t even consider such an event, and I had come through in a way better time than I had anticipated.
I didn’t see the others coming in as I was in the Athletes Village, but I was out in time to see Big Mark coming home. Man did he enjoy the last 20-30 metres coming up to the finish line, with a super-sized smile on his face and his arms out as if to say yes its mine all mine!
Marky Mark comes home
Seeing all the finishers coming in and getting their cheers from the crowd was a great experience. Chrissie Wellington the women’s race winner is back and she’s cheering people home, Mark gets his finisher’s medal from her. I would only guess that the crowds actually get better as the night draws on, and as far as I know the last person home gets the second biggest cheer of the day (after the winner), but I can’t hang around. The WAGS are anxious for road, they too have had a shocking long day and we need to get our bikes and gear home.
Thanks to the vagaries of the Frankfurt one way system and their taxi driver’s reluctance to take a bike on board, I end up cycling home – no cleats, just runners. But I might as well have been flying home, there was only a little discomfort and pain … I was numbed by the overall success of the day – I hadn’t drowned, I hadn’t had any mechanical problems and I got through a marathon at first time of asking with an extended warm-up of some 114 miles (8 hours). Nothing major had gone wrong on me, plenty wrong the day before but that was then. All my team mates had got home successfully – all with stories to tell of what happened to them, but each with their own successes and other areas for improvement.
8 August 2008 at 9:10 pm |
One word – Brilliant…!!!