Ironman Zurich........ By a Triathlon Orphan

A huge thanks to Katie Ridley a 'Triathlon Orphan' for this account - it gives us another view of the Ironman journey.

Waking up on a sunny Thursday morning I found myself still complaining and moaning about how I really didn’t want to visit Switzerland.   From excuses like ‘it’s cold there’ to ‘they all have hairy legs’  I tried my best to make sure my parents knew that I really didn’t want to go.

Arriving at Heathrow airport where we all stayed in a bog standard hotel, we decided to meet and greet and then go out for the last minute ‘English Dinner’.   The choices were between a small little pub and an Italian.  I’m kind of glad we went to the pub, as funnily enough I was about to have my fill of Pizza in Switzerland.

Boarding the plane on Friday morning, we all met at the hotel and made sure we had our ‘lads holidays’ t-shirt which were printed with ‘IRONMAN ZURICH 2013’.    

Now I must say Dad that this was a very nice touch.   

We flew with ‘Swiss Air’, which are an airline I’ve never really heard of but there was plenty of legroom on the plane.  Us kids had to put up with a lot on those Swiss Air flights, from KP’s dodgy bum to Ritchie’s sweaty armpits.  However all that aside I enjoyed the travelling as we got free Swiss Chocolate, followed by a croissant and a free drink! We couldn’t believe it, FREE?   However the Swiss certainly made up for it once we had arrived !!!

Now you must remember, we’re in Switzerland because of the Ironman, so we had around six plus bikes in bike boxes and bags, which didn’t want to go with the flow and wanted to stay where they are. To paint a correct picture there were all the adults dragging their bikes with all the children, holding around 4 suitcases each.  

 It was a disaster.  Switzerland then threw another challenge at us - The Double Decker Train!!   Our first mission was that we had to pull all of the baggage to the door of this train.  Secondly we then had to get the baggage onto the train along with all of ‘the crew’ on.  The only way to make this work was with Nic holding the train door open with her rear end whilst trying to drag the children and luggage on too. 

Arriving at our hotel was a welcome relief.   From the point of view as a stroppy 17 year old I wasn’t looking forward to sharing a room with Dan, Maisie and Grace (however by the end of the trip I actually enjoyed it very much).   Our room had the best view, overlooking the lake and giving a picture perfect atmosphere.

After a lot of begging we finally got to go and swim in a Lido on the lake and this was the best experience of the holiday for us kids.   Now on the plane Ryan and me had fantasized about a trampoline in a lake – a bit like the one in cheaper by the dozen, and today was our lucky day. This completely made this trip 100X better (yes – we are 18 and 17 and easily pleased) and this had us entertained for hours.   

 Now I forgot to mention the weather at this time, and unlike my prediction, it was around 35 degrees.   This was great news for us kids as it meant the water was so warm in the lake, however it was nerve racking for the Iron people as it was announced to be a NON WETSUIT SWIM.  As soon as we found out, I saw the worrying look on my dad and KP’s face as they lost all belief in themselves.   But after a lot of prep talk and confidence boosting done by us kids we wished them all good luck and went to sleep for the next day was the iron man.

When we arrived at the Ironman at around 7:30 am the swimmers were already swimming (well fighting really) it looked horrendous.  After watching for a while Ryan and myself pushed in front of many Swiss people to get at the front so we could watch people come out the swim. After watching everybody stumble out of the swim I just prayed that my dad was okay.   I saw a tall man – he was lanky and had a chest that looked like a carpet of hair walk out of the swim.   I screamed ‘GO DAD YES DAD YOU DID IT’ this was followed by ‘ O - YOU’RE NOT MY DAD I’M SO SORRY’ and a strange look from a German man. 

After everyone was out of the swim I got the pleasure to watch Daniel, Grace and Maisie do their IRONKID race.   This consisted of a vicious swim and a brilliant run (well done kids!!!).

Watching the bike, it was around 38 degrees, which was way to hot for me to even sit in let alone bike in.   I admired every single person that started the Ironman and managed to either finish or get 2/3rds of the way through. The worst bit about being a spectator was seeing the horrendous state that grown men and women were in.   I’d also like to mention my mum who needs to congratulate herself for what she has achieved and not beat herself up about what she unfortunately didn’t complete.   I think with this situation you need to think about how the glass is half full not half empty, and that everybody is behind you and has supported you with the decision you made, and we’re all still so proud of you.

The run on the Ironman was where things became challenging for most people.   We had ‘The Zombie’ (Aka KP) who was there in body but scarily not in mind with him being deaf, blind, sick and very very low on energy.

We also had Keith R who kept drunkenly saying ‘I’m going to be an Ironman’ whilst smirking and looking like he’d just been shot.   With Chelle who couldn’t even see out her eye, and even Paul “The Terminator” Newell flagging it was not a pretty sight.   We had my Dad who decided he wanted to wear his Riverside vest as a crop top (not a pretty sight) causing a stir with some woman called Jenny telling him to carry on!!  Now my dad is a very strong runner, but when he stopped and said to me ‘’I’m struggling come and run with me “ it called for drastic action and I mean drastic action.   I climbed over the gate and started running with my dad talking to him.   Now I only thought I would be there for around 400 meters but he asked me to stay with him and I ran with him the whole way.  I ran the last 10k with my dad (furthest I’ve ever run before is 5 k !!!), in my jelly sandals, making sure that he consumed all the sugar possible as I thought he was about to pass out.   Maisie was a star and ran with her Dad too and Grace with Chelle.   I know all appreciated our help and all finished!   With around 300m to go my Dad said that he didn’t think I would able to run in with him down the finishing shoot so I stopped, not knowing that my little brother Dan the glory hunter was waiting at the finishing shoot to run in with him.  TYPICAL!!!!

For all people out there that think they know what an Ironman is you will never know until you’re in all of these amazing peoples shoes.   An Ironman isn’t just a physical challenge, you could train for years, but you have to be mentally prepared for it.   To me, all these people aren’t just Ironmen and women, they’re so much more than that, and I know all of us kids look up to and aspire to be like them, and it’s safe to say I enjoyed my holiday.

A massive massive thank you also to Nic who was my surrogate Mum for the weekend and made sure we all got to Switzerland with bikes and had a great hotel to stay in.  You are a STAR x x  

Once again well done everyone, especially my Mum !!!!

Katie  

Sprinting for B......... By Stewart Martin (Stewy)

Virgin London Sprint Triathlon – 27^th July 2013
 

While the hard core action was unfolding in Zurich there was a little known event happening in London.  Probably not a favourite of seasoned Tri’ers due to the 11,000+ entrants over 2 days but my first opportunity to race (Ok, to go from start to finish) for a charity I’m very passionate about – SCOPE.

Violins at the ready

Everyone has their motivations for taking up a sport.  Mine? To be around for our children as long as I possibly can.  Hailing from Glasgow, where the stereotypical greatest sporting challenge is a Time Trial for deep fried mars bar consumption, meant I had a disadvantaged starting point (a lover of Lard).  Key to that motivation and my passion for Scope is our eldest daughter Bethany.  B has mild Cerebral Palsy (Left-sided Hemiplegia) which means she’s mobile but has a cool set of wheels when she’s tired and wants to chill out.

Mid-life crisis

I hit 40 and rather than buying a Porsche I decided to get fit so I could stay around for a while.  (Dad – heart attack at 50, Dad’s dad – 2^nd & fatal heart attack at 70). Get the picture?  So I started walking/jogging 3K two years ago, 2 Supers and 1 sprint last year lined me up nicely for Sprints this year.  Two and a half stone lighter and having completed the 1^st NiceTri Sprint this year I was confident I could go the distance and raise money for this awesome cause.  Also thanks to Georgie @ http://www.gbsportstherapy.co.uk/I’ve been managing/nursing a couple of dodgy ankles so I knew I could at least walk round the 5k.

Back to the race

So with my background, self-deprecation and excuses for ineptitude laid out before me, I was so excited about doing this race.  I was really stoked up about the swim & bike and having tangibly progressed from “DoggyPaddle+” to “green shoots of a freestyle technique”, it’s just the swim-fitness and miles in the pool/on the bike that’s holding me back for the moment.  My plan was for a steady swim and “smash it” on the bike with an impressive Charlie Chaplin impression saved for the run.  I had plenty of time to work up my plan as I woke at 3:30am on the Saturday morning, as if someone had wafted smelling salts under my nose.  6 hours later doing what can best be described as “farting about”, having packed/re-packed then checked/re-checked my kit, we set off for London.

The Excel Centre

We arrived about 12ish, well sign-posted and well organised staff guiding us into a phenomenally large parking area next to the main centre.  A few guys were cycling around the acres of space as more cars piled in.  Opened the door from the cool air conditioning to a waft of heat, car registering 32 degrees C outside.  Ouch.  My start time was 15:50 so plenty of time to get my timing chip, rack the bike, grab some lunch and do a good reccy of the trade stands & spectator areas.

If you have never been, from the car park to the main arena the place is massive.  The bike racks took up about 4 football pitches.  This was going to be fun remembering where my bike was racked.  Checking in for the timing chip was quick and straight forward then onto the racking.  Labelled by start time, there was no numbering for each rack point so having got there early I set about creating the space I wanted.  Job done – let’s see if I still have the space when it fills up later…  Lunch, tri-shopping and viewing points checked out saw me off to don my wet suit around 15:30, reasserting the space I wanted for my bike’n’stuff.

 

Oops

The next 20 minutes were a bit of a blur but suffice to say having got my wetsuit on I wandered over to the swim brief sweating buckets to find a wave disappearing down the stairs to the dock.  Ok, wait for the next group of swim hats to be distributed and it was then I noticed the huge clock clearly telling me that I’d missed my slot. 

This meant a number of things:

• 1)      I’m a muppet
• 2)      My patient wife Carolyn wouldn’t have a Scooby doo where/when I was at any point during the race
• 3)      I had just added 20 minutes to any recorded time
• 4)      I was now going to cook for another 20 minutes in my wetsuit until 16:10
• 5)      I then remembered that this wave was the biggest of the day

Muppet!

On the back of that I lost a little focus but by the time the Ogi Ogi Ogis from the Welsh guy doing the brief had done their trick, the adrenalin was up and I was ready to go.

The Dock & swim – 21:03

As I jumped in my first thought was ‘just how deep is this?’ but it was heaven.  Starting to cool down I headed over to the right about 4 deep so I’d be close to the turns.  While I didn’t expect to be up at the front there was no point in increasing the distance I had to swim, I’m crap after all.  Horn went off and I was straight into a rhythm, determined to do as little breast stroke as possible over the 750m.  It was like the M25 on a bank holiday and you might say well that is really bad but I didn’t do any breast stroke so it was peachy!  I was held up and executed a few moves from the Hong Kong book of Kung Fu but my confidence was buzzing as I went round mid pack at varying rates of freestyle and ultimately joined the masses, like a queue for a Soup kitchen during the Great Depression, to exit the water.  1 second faster than the NiceTri Sprint 1 this year – how awesome am I?

T1 – 5:17

How far?  Up the ramp from the dock there were lots of volunteers handing out clear plastic bags for wetsuits.  I love my suit and quickly eased out of it and into the bag. I can understand the bags as the transition area has a smooth floor so would have been lethal with too much water about.  However I thought I’d skipped the bike leg and onto the run by the time I got back to my bike – had to be about 500m.  As I approached my bike I couldn’t wait to get my Scope shirt on and wear it with pride.

The Bike – 47:51

From the mount I tried to push as hard as I could, the run was an afterthought.  I’m not called Captain Slow for nothing but found myself flying (gradually passing) most people on the flat & down-hills thanks to my Token Tri bars (Cheers Lloydy!).  However on the slightest incline I ended up spinning up in my lowest gear with all those riders overtaking me again.  Big front ring though – one didn’t touch one’s granny gear!  So no real massive “smashing”.  I was trying to conserve my bottle for the second lap but knew I was massively dehydrated, feeling like my mouth was dryer than a camel’s arse.  Reaching the dismount my mind was blank thinking it was a shame I hadn’t seen Carolyn and our close friends and I suddenly realised I needed to get off the bike.  Usual plan is to get out of shoes and leave them on the bike but I ended up loosening shoes and unclipping.  So there I was feeling like wearing flip flops or clogs on a slippery floor as I hobbled into T2.

T2 – 3:33

Not so bad given the distance after I’d removed my bike shoes and carried them the last 200m.  Next time I’ll either have two bottles on the bike or make sure I’ve something else to drink in transition.  I left T2 with two things on my mind – where’s the nearest water station and don’t let my ankle give.

The Run – 33:26

I knew before the race that I was going to take it easy as I didn’t want to aggravate my ankle (MTFU I hear you say) but most important was to get round and secure the phenomenal sponsorship that friends & family had donated.  In the end it didn’t matter as I was cattle trucked in that heat.  Coming down from the Excel Centre I was approaching the Charity tents.  With my name in black marker on my Scope shirt they all cheered me on and as I hi-fived them all I couldn’t help but well up but I was running faster for about 20m before settling back into my jog.  I was in bits but this was for Bethany.  I jogged to the water station about 1.5K in and grabbed a couple of cups of water one side and then rounding the turning point grabbed another couple.  Grind it out, this is for Bethany, as I felt my lips sticking to my teeth like an impression of Jim Carrey smiling.  I stopped thinking at that point got my head down and focused on completing the first lap, looking forward to seeing if I could catch a glimpse of Carolyn and for the next run past the Scope tent.

No sign of Carolyn, lap 2, past the Scope tent, hi-fives and 20m of “running”.  More water at the water station turn and heading for home.  As I was closing on the Excel for the last time I was doing a fast walk as another guy with a Scope shirt grabbed my shoulder & said lets finish together.  Blubbing like I’d just seen Archie Gemmill score against Holland in the 1978 World Cup (or comparable to what happened to Bambi’s mummy) I started running – ankle’s fine.  We rounded the final bend into the home straight and tried to gee up the crowd “Come on, this is for Scope”.  Then my competitiveness kicked in with 2 guys not too far in front (yeah – save your efforts for the last 50m rather than the previous 25.7K!!!).  Sprinting for the line my next thought was sod the medal where’s the water?  I took 4 bottles from a volunteer and then let him stick the medal over my head.

Post-race – 1:51:09

3 litres of water in about 15 minutes and it was time to mount the podium for the money shot.

I’d love to race for Scope again but you’ve no real chance of being competitive or aiming for a PB in a race which is that busy.  Wave after wave overlapping throughout the day, ridiculous transition times due to the size of the venue and queues longer than the Harrods sale just to exit the Dock.  Ideal for a first time experience given the Celebs, charitable nature and safety in numbers but having done a few tri’s even I would have liked to have been a bit more assertive & competitive.

Can’t wait for NiceTri Sprint 2 in September!

While this account might seem like War and Peace for a Sprint race, after the epic efforts of our IronMen & Women over the same weekend, I hope in some way it might help/entertain the lesser mortals within the club or anyone who’s thinking of getting into Triathlon.  Everyone starts somewhere and our great club truly is open to all abilities, shapes & sizes.  I am in awe and inspired by our Ironpeeps but this “Fat boy on the run” is working towards it.

ISN’T THIS SUCH A GREAT SPORT!?!?!?

Stewy.

50 Shades of Pain ...... By Duncan Bush

Ironman Zurich 28th July 2013.

Ok, so let’s just rewind a bit first to last autumn/winter 2012 sitting in the club house nonchalantly chatting about doing an Ironman over the usual 3 or 4 beers!
The conversation was jumping around with the usual bravado of “yeah you have to do one once in your lifetime” and “it’s the ultimate triathlon” to “which one......Ironman or Iron distance”, then without much warning KP announces that he’s just entered the IM in Zurich. *BANG* there goes the bravado gun and he’s off, so without much ado I also entered there and then on my phone and the Zurich IM snowball gathered serious momentum, before we knew it and without much clarity of the epic’ness IM is many of us were signed up.

 So we’re now all sitting there smugly awaiting the kudos of our potential IM status, clinking glasses and chatting IM tattoos only to realise this is all irrelevant until you complete the damn thing, then it started to hit home....yes a 2.4m swim; “that’ll be all right, wet suits help you float and the cut of is 2:20hrs”, bike 112 miles, “yeah I’ve ridden 80 miles once, how much further can it be” and a marathon, “easy run’em before...simples!”...the one thing we all avoided acknowledging though was the fact you have to do them one after the other, nonetheless ignorance was bliss.

So now let’s fast forward....albeit after 670 hours of training that consisted of 487,531 Calories being burned, 110 miles of swimming, 7,182 miles of cycling and 1,572 miles of running I now hoped I was ready for 10-11 hours of racing, as well being able to cope with the guaranteed 50 shades of pain!

SO….here it starts:

Thursday evening and we’re bombing down to Heathrow for the night with an early Friday flight to catch, all there, KP and his entourage, Ritchie’s, Rid’s and Newel with their gangs and Luce and I. It started as usual, find a crummy pub, not dissimilar to the Gash and fuel up with the biggest, dirtiest and cheapest dinner, not to mention MORE beers. Weirdly it seemed we were on holiday, hardly giving a thought to the impending race; again ignorance!

Fortunately Rids had Ironman Zurich T-Shirts made up for all of us in order to make sure we didn’t forget why we were there, this didn’t go unnoticed either by a very fit and healthy looking dood in the pub with the “M Dot” tattoo on his calf (bastard!). So picture is, we’re all eating crap with chips and anything battered, all a bit leery after 3 beers and he says “best of luck lads in Zurich, I’m just off on holiday now as I’ve just completed my second IM Austria, wasn’t a great time, however you lot look really fit so you’ll smash it”, I’m thinking is he talking to us, and has he seen Keith Ritchie has the T-Shirt on too…..perhaps he thinks he’s part of the support crew?

Friday morning and we’re off to the airport, I get lost coming out the hotel despite being next to the terminal and decided to have a little trundle up and down the M4 for a laugh….wasn’t stressed at all WAS I…where’s the f#####g airport!

Next the luggage marathon begins, jezzzz, how much luggage!

We land safely in Switzerland and again the luggage marathon begins again, albeit this time it just got much harder, 8 bike boxes, 15 suitcases and hand luggage, a train with 3 foot of stairs to negotiate and doors that decide to shut every 3 seconds, the fun we had!

Next arrive at the hotel, next to the train station….(Nic P- Great planning here!), that was also fun, however we were pro’s now when it came to luggage movements.

It took longer than anticipated to get their (odd that) and the IM briefing was to kick off in 20 mins….20 mins down the road. Being the “serious one” I was elected to go to the briefing which I duly did.

I arrived at the briefing 15 mins late and was overwhelmed by the size of the whole thing, as well the number of athletes, supporters and family all milling around and then it started…. 

Wel’comeeeeeeeeee to I R O N M A N Zurich boomed out of the PA and everyone starts clapping and whooping like they’ve just won the bloody lottery, I meagrely slapped my thigh as not wanting to look too out of place, as well maintain the cool factor. I grabbed my pen and started jotting down a few bits…which consisted firstly after the hype of, “it’s a non-wetsuit swim”…shit the bed the room went quiet, then the announcer says the weather is also going to be of the scale, no worries someone said it’s hot now, then the announcer says “and today is nothing to what it’s going to be like on Sunday!”…the other chap soon shut up…ha-ha I thought, nob…then thought, actually I’m the nob, what am I doing here, no wet suits, +40oC forecast!

Couldn’t be arsed to hang around for the full briefing on the run, was almost irrelevant as it was now survival…run ha…walk they mean! Got back to the hotel and was met immediately with a beer, I then started to real of my notes, pretty much in the same order, as well the same silence came over the bar balcony, albeit this time the silence was marred by the tight gulping of beer.

Friday night is BIG meal night and early to bed, we all hit a local pizza joint in Thawill, nothing special, I fuelled up on a 12” Calzone and an additional meal of Pasta Cannelloni washed down with a few cokes…then we got the bill, or should I say the national debt cheque for Portugal, £20 odd for an Iceland Pizza and coke was almost a fiver….Swiss robbing bastards!

Anyway, back to the hotel and hit the sack, read for a bit in order to induce one last night of positive sleep….closed eyes, started drift…..NON WET SUIT SWIM, roll over, sigh, get comfy….NON WET SUIT SWIM, lay on back, sip water, think positive thoughts and wonder if meditation works….NON WET SUIT SWIM….you get the gist, this pretty much went on ALL night through to the early hours.

Saturday morning I get up just before 6am and grab my bike for a final hours spin, 20 min easy spinning and 6 x 30 sec hard efforts and easy home. Weirdly everything started to feel great, just exercising after traveling was a reward and the roads where super slick! Arrived back at the hotel, dump bike and a quick 20 min easy run….hello legs!

After the usual morning, midday faf’ing we all headed off to transition, another debacle of trying to register and rack bikes, along with leaving bike and run bags in the changing areas as NOTHING could be left on your bike except nutrition and bottles, no helmets, no race belts, no glasses…nothing! Panic again, have I packed everything?!

Strolled back to the hotel and had a final supper before heading off to bed and writing a few words of wisdom on Lucy’s arm, albeit I was clearly nervous as a bought of dyslexia overcomes me and prevents me writing anything compliant.….felt more like we were going to war that competing!

Weirdly hit the sack and slept like a log, now how does that work?

Sunday its 4am and an I’m on the alarm before it’s even gone off, a wee bit of Rudimental “I’m not Givin’in” blasts away. I’m up and smothering factor 50 onto every square inch of skin, then attempt
a full on cage fight with clothes as they stick trying to get on! Anyway I digress, down to breakfast in the hotel and about 20 other competitors are down their looking quite happy and relaxed, I then spot Keith and Chelle and instantly feel better! A small bowl of cereal, double espresso and a roll and I’m done, literately…£18 done, Swiss robbing bastards again!! Back to the room, grab my street bag and we’re off to the station to catch the Ironman train!

We gingerly enter transition and start the epic task of trying to locate bikes under the wash of yellow poweraid bags. Once found we all start checking and pumping tyres, loading our nutrition and bottles.

Quick catch up with the guys and I stroll down to the swim start, then back to the porta potty, back to the swim start, back to the porta potty and so forth.

At this point the start didn’t look too overwhelming, so I ducked under the tape and went for a quick swim to the first buoy. Bashed out a couple of 25 meter sprints died and limped back to the shore, shit I missed my wet suit.

I eagerly wandered up and down the swim start, left to right, all in all it was about 100 meters with the course running clockwise; do I start on the left, right, middle front or back! I knew it would be a pretty physical start so decided to take the more aggressive line and start right, albeit a couple of rows back.

Pro’s go off and they’ve got 5 minutes on us, 4 mins in and honestly they still look a stone’s throw away and the first turning buoy appears to be Calais on clear day from Dover!

SWIM 1:26:20 – Official 2.4 miles (Garmin 2.7 miles) non wet suit.

5, 4 , 3, 2, 1 and we’re off, shit!.....slight panic followed by a gentle shuffle into the water as the bottle neck starts, eventually find a bit of water I feel I can actually go horizontal on and we’re off!

Usually I like to go of hard, die and recover but not a chance. At first I thought “hey this isn’t so bad”, I kept out of trouble, changed lines and looked for a good draft, didn’t last long though as the two in front started to converge with me being the GBR filling, they then promptly stopped as the guy in front of them went breath stroke and next thing I know I’ve got 20 guys swimming over the back of me, shit this is scary now!....OK OK OK…calm it Bush, keep spinning the arms, kick like Bruce Lee and push on HARD! Of all the pool training I did having the extra gear was a life saver, seriously!

To be honest it pretty much stayed like this the whole way round the first lap, didn’t bother with sighting too much as it was pointless, was like being in the middle lane of the motorway with 18 wheelers all around, couldn’t go anywhere! It did start to ease a little coming toward the half-way point, but not for long. The Australian island seemed like a great idea in principle; however in reality it just funnelled everyone into a much smaller space and the last 25 meters was horrendous! Unfortunately I got pushed wide of the run ramp and simply couldn’t get out, albeit eventually clambered up the side and started the run over the island, had a quick glance at the watch hoping to see 30-35 mins and the thing says 42! WHAT the hell!!!! So I’m running over the carpets and there’s a one foot square of non-carpet, just ply wood, I hit it and start Scooby Doo’ing, great what luck, luckily momentum spared me being dumped unceremonially on my arse although did nothing for
the heart rate! Second lap and I’m right back in it, fighting for space, looking for a draft and wishing for the end.

To cut a long swim short (I wish) I eventually exited the water on 1:26 following some tasty calf cramps, probably from the Bruce Lee’s, nonetheless holly cow that’s slow!

Transition 1 - 2:56 and uneventful

Hit the mat and ran into transition, I’d always planned on making good in T1 through preparation.

1. Find bag
2. Sit on bench and open bag
3. Grab slice of malt loaf from within helmet and chomp
4. Helmet on, buckle - check
5. Grab left sock (well powdered) and slip on, same with right
6. Slip into shoes, Velcro up and attach race belt
7. Run and find bike….easier said than done with still over 1,700 bikes racked
8. Grab bike and run like hell
9. Mount bike and go for it!

Bike Official 112 miles (Garmin 116.8) 5,331 feet of climbing max temp 41.8oC / 5:24:42 – 20.8mph av.

I’m off, at first you spend a few mins trying to register speed, other bikes and course, still a bit goggle eyed from the swim I guess.

The first 30k’s are sweet, I’m not pushing but I’m feeling “on song” and things are feeling good, speedo is registering a smooth 26-29mph on the flat…ok slight decline with wind behind, nonetheless it felt great and eased me into the bike.

Eventually we turn right of the lake road and start a couple of gentle rolling climbs, again all is good and I keep just supping on my bottle and eating the odd morsel of Mule Bar.

To be fair time passes pretty quick at first, although as the road starts to pitch up and the heat hot’s up you start to feel a little less invincible. The road is pretty steep now, granny ring engaged and I’m trying to keep a smooth pedal as I pass the sign “THE BEAST”, I wink at the sign and say in my best ironman voice “so you’re the infamous beast then”…....what a twat!

All in all it wasn’t so bad, yes it was a long and in places steep but certainly manageable. Eventually you crest and have a brief rest bite as the road flattens, hit the aid stations like a pro, discarding old bottles and grabbing what you can, water at first to throw over yourself and electrolyte drinks to replace the sweat.

Now, after reading the literature IM Zurich is known for the Beast and Heart Break Hill, so why the hell am I now cooking on a 5-10% gradient that seems to go on for EVER baking in the sauna they call Zurich?!....where the hell did this hill come from?! I stayed positive and just spun it out, I cannot tell you the relief at the top, although this was topped a little by “shit I’ve got to do both of them again and I haven’t even reached Heartbreak Hill” To be fair though the view from up there was spectacular, the lake, scenery and vineyards where ore inspiring.

So when you’re up you have to come down and boy did we come down, straight as you like and fast…..50.1mph fast but bumpy, even more so when the side winds tickled my front wheel and I was riding a 900 front….ek, was a bit hairy for a moment, however you could really make some time up here as it favoured the brave, or stupid!

Eventually we came back into town and made our way back out to the north, off the main road and started a twisty uphill onto the Heart Break Hill. You could hear the announcer at the top and I couldn’t wait to get a little closer, however the pre-hill was taking its toll.

Once I hit the bottom of HBH the noise and spectators just lifts you up and over, at some points the road is narrowed down to a single bike width, AMAZING!

Before you know it you’re off over the top without so much being out of breath, it was more like an escalator than a hill climb!

Then we’re off again, second lap, just another couple of hours and the marathon looms.

Second laps was pretty much the same (no shit!), however I knew I was getting tired as the fidgets started to set in, sitting up, stretching legs and neck out and cooking even more than ever, crumbs this was really hot now.

By now eating was also impossible, everything I put in was being rejected immediately, luckily I had a made a last minute decision to carry some gels on my cross bar which were palatable, along with some water and energy drink. I kept cooling with water over my back and legs and again just kept enough pain in my legs and feet to help me forget about the remaining distance.

So the hills were still there, however somehow they’d been notched up a little, clearly my mind was also starting to fry as I couldn’t remember what came first, the beast or the railway hill climb (now renamed the BITCH). I was on a hill at the time thinking this through and concluded that I was indeed now on the BITCH and only had the Beast to deal with…WRONG!

Second time up the BITCH was my low, not only was it now over 40oC and seriously hot I was out of water, out of energy and resorting to covering myself in isotonic drink to try and stay cool (boy is that stuff is sticky!), nonetheless SMILE and keep thinking positive I thought, as well look around for people struggling more, it’s funny how it fuels you!

Eventually we’re back riding down the superfast hill, this time in my mind I didn’t dare hit the previous speeds however that was soon seen right as my hands were so sweaty I didn’t dare take them of the bars to reach for the brake, again another 50mph ticked up, albeit this time I was properly crapping it!

Back in to town for the last time and I’ve managed a much needed quick chomp on a SIS bar and from nowhere my legs are back and I’m caning it through the streets toward Heart Break Hill for the last time.

Second time round and it was less full, but still just as buoyant and easy! I grab a bottle of coke from the aid station as this was my pre-determined second lap treat and took a quick swig….OMG it was amazing and a brief moment of joy. I stuffed it into by saddle bottle rack as I negotiated the quick sweep back down from HBH…..clonk, bollocks my Coke has just jumped out of the cage and is now kicking my arse down the hill, gutted!
Never fear, push hard now and spin up to 90/100 on the bike and into transition.

Transition 2 - 4:07 and no shame

Into T2, rack bike and hobble to tent and I mean hobble, my feet are on fire and the pain from my metatarsals is unbearable, how the hell am I going to run now!

So I grab my run bag and strip of down to my birthday suit, peanut out, or what resembled a peanut after that ride and I’m slipping shorts up, vest on, cap and pulling on shoes, albeit with less haste compared to when I left! Last half litre of water tipped on head and I’m ready to exit.

Run 3:48:08 – 26.2miles Marathon (Garmin 26.52 miles) and still stupidly hot!

So here I am, this is my strength, this is where I make my Ironman and what…..I can’t run, seriously I CANNOT RUN my feet are unbearably sore and I’m almost ready to throw in the time towel and settle for a walk finish.

I hobble, walk and hop toward the urinal at the end of T2 and am pleased I can still piss whilst contemplating my race; I had heard many stories about kidney’s shutting down in hot races and didn’t want this to be me!

Weirdly pissing was a huge relief and gave me great encouragement, I thought all was going ok comparatively, just needed to find my feet, smile and think positive.

I hobbled out of the urinal and decided despite the pain I’d at least give the run my best shot, it had happened a little before in long ride/brick sessions, albeit never this bad. I knew I should at least try to run it out, I could see the spectators mouthing “poor bastard he’s fucked” which really helped….NOT, mind you they all love a car crash I guess.

Within half a mile it was starting to ease, pace was low though and running style was similar to old man Wale’y, I saw the penalty box looming and hoped they’d come out and wave me in for a 6 minute stop start but alas I had done nothing wrong, gutted again!

The first lap was pretty unimpressive, within a few miles of covering myself in cups of water it started to dawn on me running constantly wasn’t going to happen and I started to power walk a few of the aid stations. It pretty much went, sponges, cup of water over face, body, legs, swig, swig electrolyte drink, eat a prune, apricot, orange slice, spit out pips (entertaining), swig more water and break back into what some would call a run!

Half way round the out and back 10.5k laps you run down a steep hill, jeeeez my quads are now also filled with glass and I’m trying to slow myself down to ease the pain, round the corner and you’re into the park and you collect the first lap arm band whilst enviously gazing at the 3 and 4 lap band boxes. Another mile or so and a few more run walk aid station stops you come out over a small bridge and onto the final out and back of the lap along the water front. Here was really hot, gravel tracks that you could feel the heat through the soles of shoes on and lots of random things to negotiate around. I came across a Red Bull aid station which everyone was running past, however I knew I had struggled with nutrition and had to get some serious energy in, however I hate Red Bull, still do, but oddly it was palatable that day and probably saved my race!

Eventually you’re heading back now toward the finish area to start lap 2, you know like everyone else you just want to turn up the finishing shoot and it all be over, but you just have to keep plodding!

Second lap wasn’t so bad, pace was bleeding off close to 7-8mpm and with aid station walks 8:30’s. Here I hit the low, pain, fatigue, boredom……everything comes at once you’re just pulling on anything to focus positively away from it all. Just as I was having my moment, and I’m not ashamed to say it little weep I see Luce coming the other way on her bike shouting “I LOVE YOU!”….Oh my god how much did that mean and inspire me to push on and shake myself out of the malaise I was in. I tried to say something back but just a low pitch gravel now exited from my vocal chords.

From then on things did get better, I remained positive despite everything as we were ALL suffering and we were ALL here out of choice!

Lap 2 and 3 were pretty much the same, lots of water, wet feet and lots of ice in my cap, as well I enjoyed eating the ice too, anything to stay cool. Usual stop at the Red Bull stand and grab what you can from the aid stations.

I started to come across the rest of the lads now, they looked like death, however once we all saw each other you can see everyone putting on the race face, well apart from KP who just continued to look like death throughout the whole race! Nonetheless the words of encouragement from the boys was so uplifting, KP even waited for me on small underpass and told me to smash it or something to that vain I think…..actually he could have said something else like “you arsehole” but it didn’t matter, I knew if I could keep pushing on the sub 11 hour target might be on despite everything being against us with the non-wet suit swim and outrageous heat.

I came round the final turn point on lap three and the rumblings started, I had been waiting for this. The choice was now to be made…do you stop and relieve yourself or push on……time was ticking after all?

I decided it was too much to continue with the hormonal elephant in my belly and thought next porta potty that I’d let her out. Approached first porta potty, ahhh great unlocked, open door and some dood was letting his own animal out….DAMN! Second porta potty, locked, DOUBLE DAMN! I knew the course pretty well by now and knew the next loos were another mile or so away, nonetheless bashed on!

Eventually I reach the next batch of porta potty’s, by now my belly is distended like an underfed Ethiopian and I’m cradling it like I’m an obsessive mother to be in my third trimester. First door…locked AGHHHHH this can’t be happening!, second door, bang, open and it’s free!!! Whoooooohooo, now I have won the lottery!

Back out and a few kilos lighter I pass the finish area for the last time and start my fourth and final lap. I’m feeling good now and know the sub 11hr is a possibility, I could even back off to 10:30mpm and I would do it, however I knew nothing was in the bag and if the wheels did come of (as they were all around me) even 10:30’s would be a tall order. I kept my pace in check, anything under 9mpm was a bonus and was another minute in the bank I thought, plus now the run course was pretty full with 1st and 2nd Lappers and I was on my last, running faster, much faster which helped spur me on even more. Coming into the woods again and seeing the final band station was like
graduation, you knew all around you people collecting 1st and 2nd bands were stupidly envious but that just fuelled me again.

I was on the final out and back now by the lake and I ran passed Lucy in the opposite direction, I remember shouting “I think I can do this….sub 11 is on”, I was almost laughing deliriously at the thought which shortly turned into another weep as she shouted back “you CAN do it Dunc”.

I turned the final corner and knew I only had a couple of miles to go, I had dreamed of this moment more than any other in training and let rip with the pace. I knew I had plenty of pace in the tank but had held back a little trying to avoid the dreaded blowing up, but now was throwing caution to the wind and opened her up to full gas of 8mpm!!....woooooo, felt like I was back running sub sixes again!

Less than a mile from the finish I managed to catch Lucy, give her bum a slap and shout something rude, that moment will live with me forever as without her being out there suffering along with me, but all the same she was smiling continuously the strength you find from within simply would have not been found.

So here I am, running down the finish shoot on my own, they line it with sprightly girls doing pom pom dances which is a bit weird when you’re hanging out your arse and smelling like a road kill badger, but even so the moment is tremendous, hands in the air I looked up and the moment sunk in…again another weep....yes yes I know.

DUNCAN BUSH…..YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!

Shortly after crossing the line it all starts to sink in, not just the achievement but every limb double checks with your body if it would be ok to stop now and.....then it does!

I eventually came out of the finishing tunnel in daze, not knowing where to go or what to do, fortunately Nic Pritchard was on her way to information and by pure coincident saw me, bless! Thanks for the HUG Nic; was so needed after that!!!

I finished in 10 hours, 46 minutes and 13 seconds, well under my goal of 10:59:59, and considering everything I want to do it again…..but faster next time, I’m now clearly under the IM curse!

After a couple of days reflecting and writing this blog I now realise lots, as well appreciated the effort needed to get through it, more so the amazing achievements and support of my fellow IM companions.

• KP – The Zombie
• Newel - The Terminator
• Ritchie – The OX
• Rids - The Crab,
• Chelle – (CJ) Calamity Jane
• Lucy – Smiley Miley

Thank you to you all, as well special mention to the support crew, Nic, Lesley, Katie, Massie, Grace, Dan, Ryan and Lilly, without you lot god knows what would have happened…..especially to Zombie?!

Finally my advice to anyone is not about nutrition, training (although that does really help!), equipment or diet but is to stay positive throughout, just smile it has an amazing effect on your outlook and prepare for the worst and deal with it AS IT WILL GO WRONG that I guarantee you!

Dunc