Ironman New Zealand 2024

Let’s start this off with a huge thank you to those who have helped me over the last 5 years. It has been one hell of a roller coaster but on the 2nd of March I finally put together my most complete race yet. Granted it’s not my fastest and I am yet to put down a super fast time. But regarding conditions and how everything played out I am super happy.

The build up to the race as usual hadn’t been straightforward. Spending the 3 month build up basing myself just outside Wanaka, NZ meant there would be about 5 very bumpy roads I would get familiar with. This along with a couple of weeks work and 2 weeks of feeling very under the weather I struggled to get any big rides and runs in. Swimming on the other hand had been my best build yet. I was feeling and swimming great, a massive thanks to FitterNZ for that one.

Coming out of challenge Wanaka with a 2nd gave me confidence but also meant I had to have a good amount of recovery before the Ironman. Collecting Jaxon, my training buddy for the last few weeks from the airport gave me a huge boost in moral and meant I went into the last few weeks loving my training again.

Right then, let’s get on with the race…

Race day started with a 4:30am alarm from Jaxon (thanks mate) and a bowl of porridge forced down. Manon dropped us off at transition and I sorted my nutrition out for the bike. Then walked down to the lake to face off to the Haka. A personal favourite thing from the Ironman New Zealand race. Coming from a rugby background it gets the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.

It’s game time.

200m swim out to the deep water start and fighting for a bit of space in the water.

BANG!

50 hard strokes to get clear water from the start. It seems everyone had this idea. Fighting people who can’t swim straight and getting feet in my face was part of it but very frustrating. But with the Jaws theme tune in my head I went on the hunt. Swinging my arms into the choppiest water I have swam in threw me out of rythme and I came to accept the sub 1 hour swim wasn’t going to happen. I was content with this.

There are so many positives from this swim.

I was racing and not surviving the swim, I was fighting for position and felt I could swim through the pack.

I came out the water battered and bruised from a lot of fights but happy. Then Manon shouted ‘11th, 10mins to the front’.

Flying through transition grabbing my empty bike bag. Wetsuit ripped off, did the most spectacular flying mount and got myself to 7th out of T1.

Up the hill and onto the bike. Time to get back into the race. The power felt easy, I was pushing around 220w for the data nerds. Slightly too hard, but I wanted to be in 5th at half way.

Bang, pssssssssttttt
Shit shit shit

I hit a pot hole at around 60kph and it ‘burped’ my rear tire. Loosing 50psi. I had a flat rear. We all know that’s never a good thing.

I don’t carry repair kit. I didn’t even consider stopping.

1. My race would be over waiting for a mechanic

2. I stopped last year, I’m not stopping again!

I carried on with about 30psi remaining in my rear tire and kept everything to feel. I started to loose a few places and struggled to hold on to people cycling past but I wasn’t to worried. I kept to plan and ended up cycling 5 hours 10 mins. Exactly what I said I’d cycle. At 90km I had biked myself to 5th and the second lap I dropped back to 7th.

Considering my sheer hatred towards the bike over the past 4 weeks, I quite enjoyed the bike.

T2 is where the race began.

Coming off my bike I launched it towards a volunteer who caught it looking completely bemused (sorry!). I then used all the aero capabilities of my helmet as I ran head first into the changing tent and just about catching up with my feet as I landed quite hard onto one of the chairs.

‘How’s it going boys?’ I remarked.

Not one person acknowledged me.

‘Cheer up lads you paid for this’

In the meantime I was chucking my socks and shoes on and ended up flying out the tent before anyone else.

I love running.

I was bouncing, each stride felt easy. I checked my pace and slowed down. It’s a marathon not a sprint after all. Manon started giving me splits telling me what I needed to get to the front. I stuck to my guns and ran my race.

The patient one.

I ran upside and past a few female pros, chatting far too much crap but enjoying every step. Every aid station came and went.

I had a system.

Coke in my mouth, water on my face, gel in my pocket and gel in my mouth.

This worked great until lap 2 which ended up with: Coke in my face, water on the person next to me, gel on the floor and a banana in my suit.

Sticky and confused I carried on.

Cam Brown Handing me coke and water.

Coming into my 3rd lap I found a rather excited Manon waving at me and screaming keep going you can catch the next 2 people!

Manon then notified me there was a guy 3mins behind running at a pace to catch me in the final 2k.

It’s now or never. I decided to dig in and lift the pace. The next 10k that followed was my fastest 10k of the run. I put everything into it knowing that I was being caught.

At km 27 I passed 5th and then quickly caught 4th. Putting me in contention for a Kona slot.

Lap 3 turn around I got my aid station wrong again, this time throwing electrolytes at a volunteer and picking up 2 gels I would end up carrying for the next 10k’s.

Km 32 could not come soon enough. I was looking around to see if I could see a 25-29 year old bounding in my direction – I couldn’t. But how could I be sure?

I was running scared.

I was quite literally running for what I had been after for 5 years. I was not letting it slip through my fingers.

For the last time I turned to go for my last lap. I realised I had been crying for the last 2 km my face was screwed up I had nothing left in me yet I had 1 more lap to go.

Down the hill for the last time I let my legs go to try and use any momentum I could at the bottom.

At this point I should apologise to the poor guy walking past the yacht club. The crowds here had been great and I had been doing my usual geeing up of the crowd.

This time, for the last time I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted at the top of my voice ‘COME ONNNNNN’.

The guy walking probably went deaf and looked very pissed off with me.

The yacht club cheered and the DJ gave me a shout out…. ‘the mullet guy’. Close enough I thought.

Turning around to run back home for the last time was one hell of a relief.

Running home now, not quite a podium but damn well my best put together race.

I kissed Manon as I went down the line and fell into some volunteers arms who took me back over to her.

I had done it. In 9 hours 48 mins. I had redeemed myself.

The belief came back.
The desire was there.
The fire was lit.

I was off to Kona, Hawaii.
The Ironman World Championship.

5 years of work all summed up in one race.

Patience.

Thank you again to each and every person who has helped me along this journey.