Ironman Western Australia
6 months since Ironman Bolton, I had traveled to the other side of the world to seek redemption. 1 month prior to the race, I had been in Perth adapting to the heat and finishing off my build. Some huge bike rides had been ticked off, along with some pretty long runs too. I finished off the build and went into a hard taper that freshened me up perfectly prior to the race. The excitement really started to build when I arrived in Busselton – checking in and collecting my number is a little ritual I love.
The morning of the race came, and after a pretty good night’s sleep considering my pre-race nerves, it was game time. We drove the 15 mins into Busselton where I dropped off my bike nutrition. This is always a weird moment for me… coming from horse racing, we would always turn up with every piece of tack imaginable, and much to my mother’s frustration, I always forgot something. This caused me to stand in front of my bike with a half empty bag, stressing about what I had forgotten. After 10 mins I decided all was well and I went to put my wetsuit on and have a warm-up swim.
The Swim – As usual I flew out of the gates like a Spartan charging into war, hit the water, and off I went heading towards South Africa… all be it for only 300m, as I then took a left turn to swim along the coast. To me, the swim felt solid; I thought I was going at a good pace, and even when I went for the second lap, I thought I was pushing the pace even more. But.. I wasn’t. There is no way I can really console myself to be honest; yes, there might have been a current, but I was very disappointed to see that I was 9 mins slower than what I thought I was capable of. But there was no time to dwell, it was time to claw some time back.
The Bike – From the moment I set off, I knew it was going to be a fast ride. For the first time ever, I didn’t muck up my mount on to the bike, and the shoes went on nicely with no problems. My nutrition was all still on the bike. Game Time.
From the start, I reminded myself to hurry slowly… although the hurry was more prominent, thinking I was at least 8 mins behind where I wanted to be, and this meant that the chimp on my shoulder came to say hello. Due to the nature of the flat and straight course, apart from the odd U turn and a dead kangaroo, there isn’t much to say about it. Flying up beside a fellow 25-29 age grouper I sung another one bits the dust’ I got a smile back and off I went. The whole ride actually went perfectly to plan, if a little faster than planned. I took on my nutrition to the letter and had no setbacks at all.
The Run – Into the pits of hell. Knowing you are heading out for a marathon, you always try to contain yourself to start with… this did not happen. I headed out of transition like a bat out of hell and headed to the first turn around. Cue Danger Zone screaming out of some speakers, shivers flew down my spine… ‘right in too the danger zooooooonnnnneeee’ – I smiled, I felt good.
The run was a total of 4 laps up and down the coast with the middle section packed with support, where the mullet came out to jeer the crowd up every time I went through. At the halfway mark on the loop, there was a trance DJ throwing banger after banger. The energy was fierce, and it fueled me like revenge fueled Captain Hook. The first lap was ticked off, and with @noelmulkey ahead of me, I had my target and I was focused, reminding him at each turn around that I was coming for him. With this I heard mutterings of ‘and another one bits the dust’ it can’t be I thought as my previous cockiness had come back to bit, when the guy I passed on the bike came past me smiling on the run.
The third lap started with @tom saying ‘this is where you show me how hard you are’, I’ll show you I thought. I kept pace until the final 10k and the chimp on my should came out to play. After running with @melbtri for quite a bit, I went for one final push to home. The final turn around came, and I saw I had closed the gap to Noel to about 36 seconds. Now I really have to push. This lasted until km 40 where the wheels fell off, the engine started smoking, and it all went to pot. I physically couldn’t make my legs run any faster than a limp jog, but I knew I was going to make it home. The final time through the crowds was epic, cheers, screams and pure pleasure filled my senses as I turned down the finish shoot, relieved I will in fact survive to do another one.
9 hours 40 minutes 17 seconds, a personal best by 17 minutes. Ecstatic.
Thank you so much to everyone who has helped me get here and enabled me to do this trip.