My 6th & last Ironman race:
I finished in around 9h50m, which is
by far a very disappointing and yet a successful event. Why the use of antonyms?
This year has been a strange year,
full of running PBs mixed up with my lack of motivation to swim & cycle.
Targets:
I went onto the race with no
particular target or stress in mind but I knew that if I was able to control
the bike segment, I should cross the line between 9h30m and 9h39m … this decoded
my plan B in around my PB (9h47m) and subsequently plan C turned into a sub 10h
finish.
Weight:
In terms of weight management, I had
done my homework and kept it under control for the past few months… but the day
of the race I weighted 1 kilo less than my last month’s average, making it the
lowest weight I’ve ever weighted (72kgs).
I celebrated it thinking; “there it
goes another kilo less to carry around”… little I knew this would probably be the
cause of my failure later on in the day.
Success or failure:
It was a very successful race taking
into account the little training done on my swim & bike this year compared
to previous IM races (50% & 20% less respectively) … but most importantly it
was a very successful race for the mental battle I went through during the
final 2hrs+ of the race just to cross the finish line. I really thought I wasn’t
going to finish it this year and I am very glad I didn’t throw the towel.
Said that, I must confess that I
still have a very sour feeling about this year’s edition. I was quite disappointed to see that I hadn’t
even got to turn this race into a PB but most importantly I was incredibly disappointed
at myself for not having run a proper marathon after all the huge training done
this year vs my 2014 plan (about 60% more and faster).
I had controlled my race pace and
nutrition to the best of my knowledge and I left my body and mind 100% ready
for this year’s strongest discipline by far (the run). I even had to keep reminding
myself to run slower the first few kms while holding off the pace.
Swim: (3.8kms - 58min)
My swim felt incredibly easy. I had
to keep telling myself that I was racing in order to pick up my pace again … I
got so easily distracted staring at little fishes swimming underneath me and
the wee dunes the waves were drawing in the sand.
Bike:
On the bike I was also very
conservative as I knew I had definitely not put enough training hours this
year. I controlled a very similar race pace to my previous IM race (35.5kms/h)
but when the wind picked up on the 2nd lap & 3rd lap my
average speed reduced to 34.2km/h… (with the same power output). Quite happy
with it.
Drafting ... or should I say cheating directly?
Drafting ... or should I say cheating directly?
Once again the drafting in this race
drove me bananas. I ended shouting to a few cyclists riding in pelotons.
I was going into this race thinking “Ernest,
there will be a lot of drafting here, let it go, let them cheat if they like. Do
your own race” … but when you race as hard as you can and get passed by big
groups of cheaters, I must admit it gets quite hard to control oneself.
Eventually, I started calling them
dickheads and I got some sort of an inexplicable relief that kept me distracted
during the 2nd and 3rd lap.
Just to throw a few numbers there so
you can see the huge level of cheating on the bike:
- My overall place on the swim was:
157th.
- My overall place on the bike was:
648th.
- My run overall place was 165th.
Run: (42.2km - 3h31m)
The above numbers explain why on the
first lap of my run I felt I was overtaking hundreds of runners…. Fat, old, etc.…
I was overtaking cheaters and not athletes so there wasn’t any particular pride
on doing so but I must admit it felt good to put most of these people back to
where they belonged; behind me!
In-around what I thought it was the
19th km (My Garmin suggests it happened around the 17th
km) I collapsed to the ground not knowing why I fell off… did I trip over? Has
anyone pushed me? Have I stepped on a hole? ... I re-gained my form and continued to walk/jog
and eventually run to the nearest aid station where I was able to fuel again.
After a few thoughts I started to
realize that I must have fainted due to de-hydration, so I continued racing but
this time more of aware of my body’s needs. Soon enough I started to struggle
to even keep running more than a few mins in a row at a decent pace so I took
the Run-walk approach; run 800m-900m and walk the rest, obviously walking every
single aid station from then on too.
I also made sure I fuelled twice on
each aid station and ate jelly beans in between them. I even kept a bottle of
water with me most of the time to avoid another pathetic show.
My head kept telling me stop and
throw the towel but I couldn’t. I have quit important races before due to
injuries and I know how bad it feels days, weeks and months to come so this
kept my motivation to keep moving forward…
“I’m not quitting my last Ironman!
Not this year!” seemed to be the most recurring thoughts … but I’m not going to
lie, there were a whole bunch of other thoughts that went like “This is an
absolute non-sense!” “Ironman is stupid, you are stupid! Everyone around me are
stupid!” “Why are we doing this for?” “Feck this shit!” “Just stop!” “Walk home
and never come back to this stupid race again!” “This is the most boring run
course ever!” “Where the hell is the next km mark?” “Have all the sudden
changed the km signs into bloody miles?” “Why does my Garmin say I’ve only run
350m if I have checked it ages ago and it said 190m?”
At that stage, there were no more
Plans A, B or Cs on my head… the aim was to get to the end of each km so that I
could get closer to home and cross the line once and for all.
I must say that crossing the line
was very uplifting as I knew I had managed to win the mental battle but I was
(and still I am) very disappointed and angry at myself for the very slow
marathon time due to a silly nutrition mistake.
The run was by far the strongest of
my disciplines this year and having it run 15mins slower than I had planned it
was (and still is) really hard to swallow. I know it’s silly but I guess that’s
part of who I am.
Nutrition:
I thought I had eaten and drank well
throughout the race but it turned out I had lost about 4kgs (on top of the one
I had lost the previous day).
After crossing the line, I picked
the medal with my hand as if I wanted to throw it to the nearest bin (obviously,
I didn’t) and I didn’t stop walking until I was inside the emergency tent… … They couldn’t do much as I was still walking
so they fed me and made me drink a good bit… It was a long full hour with cold shivers and dizziness
(not in the emergency tent anymore) but eventually I recovered somehow and I headed
home.
Club mates:
Having seen my club mates on the
field made the race a more enjoyable and interesting event… At every turn on
the bike course Peter Williams and I
were hitting very similar spots so I knew we both were doing what we were
supposed to be doing.
If I’m honest I thought I would’ve
seen more club mates in the run and I was sort of counting on encouraging each
other as we passed along … but reality hit us as 20 people, mixed up with
another 3,000 athletes, easily fade away... … in the event that I would cross a club
mate's path, we would both of us be that tired that we couldn’t even cheer each other most
of the times.
I actually have been meaning to
apologize to my good friend (and my 1st Tri-mentor), Pearse Fahy for not only NOT
encouraging him as I passed him but for also demoralizing him as I was saying
something along these lines “oh F**k! This stuff is so hard. I don’t know about
you but I feel terrible!” … then he overtook me a couple of minutes later and
even though he didn’t say much (he must have been lost in his own mental battle)
he touched my shoulder meaning “Come on, lad! Keep moving!, You can do it!” …
and this is what you’re supposed to do! And not what I did.
Results:
Overall, it wasn’t as bad as I make
it look with all my commentary above. Even though I didn’t achieve a Personal
Best this time, I certainly got quite close to it… and numbers suggest that I
actually had raced harder as I finished higher up in the ranks compared to my
last year’s competition.
I have just learned (as I’m writing
these lines) that I was the 2nd Irish man home out of 353 Irish
Triathletes. This is something more valuable than any of the stuff I have
written above and now I can easily say that I am very happy that I had actually
pushed my limits to cross the finish line one more time.
My God, my strength, my child:
This, like any race I do, is solely
inspired and dedicated to my lovely boy Killian O’Neill and his amazing parents
who I will always hold in my heart, thoughts and prayers.
PS: I love
the republican Catalan flag on the background.
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