The history of Ironman racing abounds with stories of endurance, will power and sheer courage on an epic scale. The capacity of these incredible athletes to drive themselves relentlessly day after day through the pain barrier and way beyond makes them a breed apart. They redefine heroism in sport. The suffering is gratuitous, the mileage they cover Herculean, and both make a crucible in which a unique character is forged: an apparently cheerful indifference to the pain inflicted by bike, footwear and road, suffused with the transcendent desire to conquer both.

The greatest battle is not physical but psychological. The demons telling us to give up when we push ourselves to the limit can never be silenced for good. They must always be answered by the quiet the steady dignity that simply refuses to give in. Call no man brave, say the Spanish, say only that on a particular day he showed himself brave. Such strength of character radiates from every person who ever attempted to finish an Ironman (never mind race) who has shown the requisite courage not to yield, has won his dignity, day after day.

The true test of any competitors mettle is the road. How much punishment can you take? You will only find out after you hear the voice in your head saying no, no you’ve had it, any more of this battering and you’re going to weaken fatally, and yet, for some reason best left to God and guesswork, carrying on anyway. Every time that happens, into a savage headwind… on the sharp rolling hills of your weekly long run… the will-sapping hauls of the winters in the Western Cape, the experience is part of a continuum, the repeated battle against surrender.

No crowds cheer us lesser mortals up the big climbs, but the mountains are open and mountains are rarely if ever finished with you. No matter how often you climb them, you never beat them: each time you start at the bottom, from scratch. Reputation will not take you up a climb. The physical battle has always to be repeated. Through every repeat, mental strength accumulates. So make sure your tyres are correctly inflated, your shoes properly tied, because every mountain is a test.

Behind glory lies the misery of training, the slog of getting through bad days, the torment of going at less than your best and the absolute conviction that giving up is never an option. Herein lies the heroism of this beautiful sport the inner revelation that makes the Ironman athlete in particular, impervious to ordinary weakness because every long ride and long run he has ever made exposes him to that defeatist voice; he has known it, faced it and conquered the fear of it, again and again and again.

As Ironman South Africa approaches, this is a salute to the 1800 odd athletes participating in 2011.

Continue Reading →

The alarm goes off. It’s soft and gentle but today it sounds brutal and almost like an insult to the life you make hard choices to pursue. The sacrifice of getting up right now completely outweighing the urge to continue cuddling the beautiful being next to you. It takes every bit of will towards your goal that you can muster to get you out of bed and into your training gear.

As you are loading your bottles and packing that extra banana in the back pocket, you yawn loudly and wonder what you are chasing. Why are you up at 6am on a Saturday, searching for the form to get to a line in the road after 9, 10, 12, 14 hours that will make sense to your mind, as settlement for the effort you have put in. It doesn’t make any sense. You shake your head and walk out the door, reluctant.

As your shoes cleat into the pedals and you start to move, you realise for the first time in ages how smooth you are pedaling. You apply a little pressure and the bike responds, almost a part of you. You crest the first hill on the warm-up ride to meet the other Ironman wannabe’s in an aerobic state, something which wasn’t possible even 8 weeks ago. You nod to yourself. Good job. Maybe the small victories are vital.

As you roll up to the crew you mentally count the people you will struggle to keep up with today. The list used to be endless. It’s now less than a handful. You mentally make notes on where on the ride the moves will go and where you need to conserve. New things, when hanging on used to be the norm. Control.

As you roll over the first climb of the day you feel strong and realise getting out of bed this morning was a good thing. This is your last long ride. 3 weeks till race day. The peak and taper are about to commence and you have the first emotions of feeling ready for the day. As you look back over your shoulder to the others coming up the hill, you count the long rides and the journey that has been 6 months of sacrifice towards how you are going to feel for the next 3 weeks or so, when you are bursting with energy.

You realise the journey behind is much longer than the one ahead. That the expectation of the finish line is quite large right now. That you hope all answers will be found there.

Just then you realise that perhaps, you already have your answers. That the next 3 weeks are merely the time when you should be relishing having done the work, having made the choices. As you sip your drink and click the gears down, powering over the top of the hill, you realise that the journey is right now, that in this moment, you are a rapidly moving vehicle towards the rest of your life and that no line in the road will ever be big enough. That the changes you have already made are enough proof that you can do anything you ever wanted to, that nothing will ever hold you back again. That the victory is already yours.

It’s a massive weight off your shoulders as you effortless cruise the flat section to the next climb for the day. You feel supple, fresh and like you could pedal this bike into the sunset. Your body is a furnace burning bright. You have arrived.

+++

With 3 weeks to go till Ironman South Africa, this is hopefully what is happening to you out there. You have made the journey, now relish the next few weeks out there. You are the inspiration, the reason and the goal. You are the line in the road which others are striving towards. Be the beacon and the light and show those around you why you made the sacrifice. Be gentle and kind and let the energy flowing through your veins run calmly, finding the quiet power inside you.

Assume nothing, pursue everything, experience now.

Continue Reading →

I am a big fan of heroes, but I am fantatical about the sports which are littered with fallen heroes. The sports I love are filled with guys like Luc van Lierde, Marco Pantani & Michael Phelps. This hurts me because I realise the sports I love reward workload and effort and these are two elements I am extremely passionate about. I am lucky enough to spend time with some of the top guys in a variety of sports and I KNOW the work that goes into being the best. Into being better than your better.

I know that at the top of each of these sports, there are 15-20 guys who can win at race at any given time of the season.

I know that they all do more or less the same workload in terms of volume. It’s much bigger than you and I care to admit. MUCH.

I have done only a few weeks in my life where my volume equaled what these guys are pushing week in, week out, month in, month out. Guys like James Cunnama, Conrad Stoltz, Stuart O’Grady, Ryan Sandes. These are people I have spent time with. They do it week in, week out. Their volumes kill me because I am not adapted to deal with it. I have zero doubt in my mind that they are doing it clean, so why the guys who give up and take the easier route.

That’s just it, the easier route.

In some sports, I think the problems are so wide spread that we end up with guys who have this outlook. That it’s not possible. I realise he is a contentious issue but I truly love this video I had up a while ago. Here is the repeat…

“Who says?”

Who says you can’t take your bike outside this weekend and ride 40km, which is more than you have ridden in the last 10 years of your life?

Who says you can’t train to run a 50km trail run at the end of the year?

Who?

Who says you are never going to be enough at anything you ever do? Who in their right minds listens to stuff like that when you have the opportunity to watch stuff like this?

How do you make the decision to say “I quit, I cannot do anymore”? Where are your heroes to reference when times get tough? Who do you reference when times get tough, to find your inspiration? What is considered “normal” for you when it comes to digging deep? Where are your heroes and what do they do? Here are some of my heroes and they are an apt description for why I choose to live this crazy life of pushing boundaries and limits and fatigue and and and…

My heroes are going far beyond what is “required”. I’m pushed by them and they make me believe that anything I want could be mine with enough time and pressure…

Where are your heroes?

Continue Reading →

We have to start a few days back from the actual race to appreciate the full extent of how crazy a weekend this was.

On Friday morning I woke at 4:20am and went to the airport, to fly to Johannesburg, the polar opposite of East London, to make a presentation to a client. Work comes first unfortunately, when you are not a professional athlete. Flight, Gautrain, 20min walk. Pitch, discuss, 20min walk, Gautrain, Flight, home at 9pm. Pack last things. To bed at 10pm. 2am scare. Very little sleep after that. 6:15am wake up, 8:45am flight to East London.

No bike in East London – SAA have left it in Cape Town. %$#^*&%%$

Off to register and collect new race gear. Race gear been completely destroyed in heat press. Resembles old chewing gum in places. **^$#$&(*&%^&

Revert to old kit. Wait for bike.

Assemble bike in the rain. No warm-up. Stiff legs. Not ideal…

Rack bike in pouring rain. Fail.

…and so went the “race preparation” and “rest phase” into the race start. Race morning presented itself as gloomy, windy and with much excitement. I woke up feeling tired but willing to hurt, which is a good thing in these environments where willingness to suffer equals reward in many cases. The excitement in the air was palpable and the fresh air was combined with nervous laughter and movement all around me. I sat quietly on the beach after failing a swim warm-up (12 degree water had me doing a dry-land warm-up instead) in the sand with my eyes closed, absorbing as much as I could and accepting the fate I was about to tempt. I knew I had to power the bike to get away from the guys I would normally run with. I knew that the deep fatigue in my body from weeks of initial prep for races in 6 weeks time would mean a slower run than normal.

I was well aware of what had to be done to get the victory today.

So I went at it full steam.

Around the first buoy with an ice cream headache and a member of a small pack of 6 who had gotten away. Awesome. I stuck my head down and sat feet for as long as possible until I lose them feet going around the 2nd buoy and back into the current. It’s choppy and windy and I am being thrown all over the place. I accept and make the best of it as I still have clear water to hopefully, all my biggest rivals.

Onto land and the scramble begins. Wetsuit off, run run run… find your bag, get all the gear out, wetsuit legs off and run out to find your bike. Hop onto bike and get shoes in…

GO INTO SHOES, FEET!!!

I head off and am struggling with my shoes, getting 2 out of 3 straps on each shoe fastened and decide it’s good enough for now, having fretted and lost enough time already. As per agreement with coach, we want to hammer the bike and test the legs there. I hear there is about 550m of climbing on the way out and the hills start almost immediately. By 5km I am in 2nd overall and I can see the superstar swimmer ahead of me, about 90 seconds up the road. I am content with how I am riding and settle in riding the hills well and managing to open gaps on everyone behind me slowly and steadily. At 30km I catch the last link to the lead in the age group race and hope the guy will help me a little at least. We hit 45km and I had done enough asking for help with no result, so made the decision to put my head down and ride home as hard as I could without destroying my legs. 800m of climbing had already happened and I was sure there was at least 200m on the way back.

I turned at 1h30 and knew that I could make it home in under an hour if the weather held. By holding I mean that it kept raining softly and consistently and that the wind would stay around 30km/h and not be too gusty. It was nasty out there already, dressed in white lycra and riding skinny tires with a pointy helmet. We are a strange lot, us triathletes.

But the weather was having none of my plans in it’s own mind. The rain became torrential, the wind gusty and I was out the aerobars quite a bit coming home, even having to hop a few potholes on the way back. 62min later and some seriously scary moments later, I had pedaled my way into T2 first with my superstar swimmer on my tail. Next time, let’s work together and instead of putting 2min into the field, let’s make it 5min??

A quick transition and I was onto the running route. I had been running 3:45 per kilometer quite easily in training and was looking forward to running the same sort of speed for the run. I had almost completely forgotten my crazy build up to the race until I hit the 5km mark and my body just shut down on me. I was well hydrated, full of calories and ready to rumble but the latent fatigue and stress was hating me. My heart rate dropped and my pace settled to a far less accommodating pace, considering I was being chased by a pack of fast runners.

I held through the first lap and managed to hold until about 13km when my good friend Marcel Roos passed me like a freight train. I had no answer, no matter how badly I wanted to go with him. I was in a world of pain and my legs felt like lead. I let him go with quite a bit of disappointment, but such is life, no? These things happen. 1km down the road I ran past an old mate and he picked up his pace to run the next 2km with me, helping me lift my pace a little again and stay focused on the task that lay ahead. I was still 2nd overall in the amateur race and reminded myself of that.

I made the last turn at 16.5km and saw that I had around 2min on a charging youngster and thought to myself… “stuff you kid, this old man is going to make sure you don’t catch him”. I closed my eyes and bombed down Bunkers Hill and managed to hold him to the finish line. This may sound strange to you but the race was over very quickly and almost disappointingly so.

I had a fun day out, suffered the elements, fought myself and come up just short of the overall win. Sure, my run was slow, about 8min slower than I had planned on running, but the reasons for it were easy to understand. I smiled as I walked the finish chute and thanked the crowds for coming out, despite the weather. A content settled over me that it had been a massive weekend already and that this was a very satisfactory day considering.

A special thanks to everyone who made the weekend possible. To sponsors Fairbairn Private Bank, Axis House, Garmin, BoE, Velocity Sports Lab, Ceepo, Puma, Whaspgel – many thanks. I was kitted to the nines out there, despite the kit issues. I am blessed to have you as a part of my life.

To all the warriors who fought out there. I heard 200 punctures out on the bike route. I heard 10 people had hypothermia on the swim. I saw many a hobble on the run. You are all warriors for choosing to race in the worst conditions ever. You humble me with your ability to keep going, despite the chips being down. You give me inspiration and you are the reason we all keep racing.

I salute you. Pics to follow shortly….

Continue Reading →

It’s right there, you can taste it after the long road filled with mega sacrifice, filled with moments of your significant other giving you “the look” and feeling like the personification of this video. Finally, there is it. You have earned this, you have demanded that it come throughout the day, willed yourself through thick and thin and truly gone above and beyond just to get here. Now give it to me! You want to be filled over the brim and explode into a happiness that lasts for years.

And then it’s over and you`re left with this sinking feeling that you have been cheated out of something. The line, it wasn’t big enough. It didn’t “fill” you. It left you feeling like you did it all for nothing, that what’s left of your life makes no sense at all. You walk like a man beaten by a thousand bamboo rods, your mind cannot focus on anything but this sinking sensation that LIFE has given you lemons when you asked for pork belly.

I have been there. I have seen the ugly inside of the pit of your stomach which is raging like an itchy scab on your elbow. I stepped back from racing for a very long time before I discovered that indeed there were much bigger moments out there within this beautiful journey that we undertake. Moments where I never feel short changed. There are no lines in the road and no plan set out in these moments. I have no expectation that I will feel fulfilled in these moments. All I have is the expectancy of being filled to the brim with life, leaving me hungry for more. It’s the best hunger in the world, one I never tire of and one that its best served on a road in the middle of nowhere with the sun in my neck and my gearing in the big ring. It looks something like this…

It’s where the joy lives, it’s where it breathes and manifests the positive attributes of what we do into every piece of the puzzle that puts together the perfect picture of the life you are struggling for. It’s where you will find the answers that elude you in your manic life. It’s where you will discover the truest, rawest version of yourself. It’s where there is no grey, only colors so radiant that they fill your eyes to the brim with tears of love for the amazing gift you were given at birth to be able to move in the direction you choose. That by the simple action of moving your body forward, you are paying homage to the most special ability of all, the choice to affect. To choose your direction, to make the decision to move your entire being in the direction which you want to. It’s where it all starts.

Choices. Thanks dad. Thanks for telling me over and over and over again that it’s all about choices. Sometimes, it’s the simplest choice that affects so much. So move with economy and make your choices count. Don’t count on a line in the road. Instead, count on yourself.

Continue Reading →

I know I know…….. I just love this clip. I use it often.

There is just something about this week. I am excited like I was about to do a full Ironman. Maybe it’s because I haven’t done nearly as much work as would have gone into the prep for a full Ironman. Maybe that element of doubt is there, that element of being unsure how it’s going to go down on race day. This is a relatively short race for me. A new set of competitors. People who can run fast after a bike ride which is not nearly as taxing as the ride at Ironman.

My specialty is going relatively fast for a very extended period of time. But I am throwing that to the wind and going to see what the day brings. I am going out there to represent the warrior poet and delve into the depths of the hurt locker to come out with the best result that I can possibly produce on the day. Am I willing to hurt myself? Of course I am. I am not going to the race to see how easily I can finish. I want to know how fast I can get there and that requires a special kind of effort. One which requires much pain.

Why on earth would I do such a thing? We already have those answers, don’t we…

So if I look calm to you, I am not. I am excited, I am ready to hurt, I am ready to suffer. I am ready to take it to the outer limits and fight you for that place at the finish line. If I look like I am coasting out there, I am not. I am hurting more than you can imagine. I am taking all the pain in and attempting to transfer it to forward movement. If you want to see the release, where all the pain gets exploded into the world, you better get to the finishline ahead of me. I release when I hit that carpet. So should you. Let it ALL hang out. Who cares if the tears come. Who cares if you come 1652nd. RELEASE IT………..

Lose yourself in that moment. You have EARNED it.

The limits exist only in your mind…

Continue Reading →

So in 10 days we will all be lining up in our waves in Buffalo City with the hopes of completing a Half Ironman race in top condition without injury, incident or suffering, to finish ahead of our scheduled times in perfect weather with amazing people, flat water, no wind on the bike and loads of shade on the run, right?

Right?

Thought so. Let’s get to grips with the following things you can accept already…

1. You will suffer. It’s a Half Ironman. A 1.9km rough water swim, a 90km super tough bike and a 21.2km run with 2 big hills in it. It’s safe to say you`ll suffer. Accept it. Feel it and relish it and put it away in that sweet spot where it cannot hurt you. Do. It. Now.

2. You will doubt yourself. The bike course in East London is made to doubt yourself. You will be too slow on the way out… accept it! Many of you will wonder if you are going to make the cut off time on the bike… JUST KEEP PEDALING!!

3. There will be wind and more hills on the way back. It has happened every single year. Prepare for it. It’s not ALL downhill on the way home.

Right, now that we have that cleared, here are some vital tips to making it through the day.

1. Have a plan. Make sure you have a plan. Eat at designated times, drink enough fluid and make sure you do NOT overcook the first 20km on the bike.

2. Stick to the plan, stoopid!

3. Bodyglide goes a long way on race day where the swim is in a salty ocean. I go with the N.A.N principle, that would be Neck, Armpits, Nether regions….

4. Ask for sunscreen before the bike and before the run. Sun burn = poor performance. Would be useless to train for 6 months and throw it out the window because you couldn’t spend 10 seconds getting properly protected. Ask a volunteer, they rock and will do almost anything you ask them to do.

5. Have fun! Connect with the people on the way. Put a bubble around those who are negative and share energy with those who are positive.

6. On the hills on the bike, to kill time, count 50 right leg pedal strokes, then 50 left leg pedal strokes. Eases the mind a little.

7. Wash yourself at the last aid station. By now you are a mixture of sunscreen, Bodyglide, Coke, gel, dust, sand, grit & spit. You are NOT pretty. Your finish line photo and your family will be happier if you just give yourself a quick rinse.

Those are some small tips to make your day easier. I am going to use all of them, considering I have never raced this particular race and am going in with a humble mix of brave and stupid. Should be a cracker. If I do not acknowledge you on the run, its simply because I am suffering so badly that I can’t remember my own name.

Continue Reading →

You`re on the start line, sitting still, looking at your heart rate monitor. It reads 134. You are supposed to max out at 158 today. What the…

It’s the adrenaline, the anticipation of the rush you are about to feel. You check your goggles one more time for fog. You look up at the sky an.. BANG! off goes the gun and you are in a flailing of arms, legs, feet, fists, heads and white water. There is foam everywhere and you are in survival mode. What race? All you want is to get through the first 100m. You find some water that isn’t filled with bubbles and stretch your stroke just a little. It feels good. The taper seems to have worked. You look around for some feet to sit on. Back into bubbles, but control this time.

Oh shoot, you are in an Ironman. All the preparation, all the sacrifice, all those hours that took forever and here you are. It suddenly dawns on you that you are here, that by getting to the start, you are 99% of the way there. You breathe a little easier and realise you are already halfway through the first lap. The feet you have are slowing and you attempt to move around but there is only clear water ahead of those feet. You look behind. 30 people are sitting your feet and you pat yourself on the back for those extra swim sets.

You judge it to be 10m to the next pack, so when you hit the beach you run hard to cross the gap and make it as you hit the water. Settle in onto the feet again. STOKE!! Lap 2 goes by so quickly you almost forget to kick a little more before hitting the beach. You high five a spectator as you run up the stairs to Transition, because YOU ARE AWESOME.

You thank the volunteers for helping you dress for the bike and hop onto your bike, the music and crowds are just a treat. Your first few pedal strokes are so easy. You feel so good. You know this will eventually go away, but you hammer a little, just because, in the first few kilometers. You settle your heart rate around 10km and aim to hit the zone. People are flying by, but your coach said this would happen. You hang tight, obey the rules and eat son! Up and over the drag you are on your way back to the coast and before you know it, that fresh air off the water is with you and the wind slightly at your back. Some of those early pace hitters are starting to fade already and you feel a-ma-zing! Lap 1 is done, right on time.

Lap 2 feels super, until about 110km. Eat boy! Eat! Focus! You find your rhythm as you come back into town, the crowds and the noise are a motivation and you bottle the energy in your thumbs and stare at them for the entire lap 3, holding focus. Before you can blink you are off the bike. The legs are not happy about the change of position. The back is stiff. You run barefoot back to the tent and it stings. You beg for sunscreen and help with your socks. Volunteers rule! Socks, shoes, cap, gels, tablets, water, what did you forget? Ahhh, there is your trusty arm band. Don’t forget it. Karma.

You hit the first aid station and need to pee. Eish. It feels like a world record in time but its a short stop. Breathe. Coke! Water! Arms up! Repeat. 40km to go. This is what it’s all about. This is make or break, this first lap. Hold BACK boy! It feels effortless. You high five a kid so hard he almost falls over. He loves it. He runs with you for 200m then fades. I AM AWESOME.

You head into the university. It’s warmer, with no people. The dead zone. You find your power song and hummmmmmmmm it loudly in your head. Where is the damn aid station?

There is it. Focus. Arms high.

Coke! Water! Gel! Water!

Tailwiiiiind!! Round the corner and lap 1 is almost done. Wow! The drone of the crowds rise and your pace a little faster as the pain seems to vanish under the cheers and the applause and the admiration for you being such a warrior. For making the commitment, for your willingness to be better than yourself. It’s 18km and the next turn and you are smashing it now. Feeling better than you ever have. You are so in the zone and your pace is so dialed you don’t even have to look at your heart rate monitor anymore. Your smile says it all.

You cruise through the back section of the loop with more confidence this time, knowing the crowd reward at the end of lap 2. You head out on lap 3 and with 10km to go, you feel mega tired for the first time. They have either switched to coke light or you are missing something. Fatigue is creeping and your head feels a little fuzzy.

Hold it together. Just like in training. Come on, boy! Focus! One step in front of the other. This is now really hurting. 8km to go and into the university. What is this hill? Was is here on lap 1 or lap 2? Sheeshkebab! You walk for the first time. You make the choice to laugh at yourself instead of cry. I AM HUMAN.

When the hill flattens, you find your stride again. Just make it to the aid station. Baby steps. COOOKE!! COOOKE!!

The long downhill to the last turn on your most epic day ever seems quiet and your reflection begins long before you hit the finish line. The noise is distant and you wake to the emotions you have been hiding for so long. You swell up and let a tear loose. Your stride begins to grow and your pain disappears. You feel euphoric and you head back to the noise with a returned smile.

You stop at your supporters area and thank everyone. They yell at you to keep going. You oblige.

You hit the carpet.

There are 2000 cheering and a huge sound system blaring.

You hear nothing. It’s dead quiet. You feel numb. I AM AWESOME. You raise your hands, cross the line and life returns. The beautiful day is over. Bring it back…

Continue Reading →

Race pictures to follow, but wanted to get a report out quickly before I head off for the 3 day trip it takes to get home from here. Yesterday was Xterra in Maui, the World Championships. I was hunting for a good day, a bit of a miracle, as my legs were pretty shattered from Kona, just 14 days prior. I had never trained straight after an Ironman and it proved to be hard and I felt the fatigue all week.

I had a bit of a nightmare the day before, as I replaced my chain as a precaution and once I did that, it turned out that other problems existed. I had to replace the cassette as well as the chainrings. Not a major issue on its own, but it turned out there were no chainrings on the entire Island. Crap!

In the end, I had to buy a new chainset at last minute, being the last guy to get his bike out of the shop. 6pm. Bit of a stress and quite a bit of walking around, which was not great.

Race morning arrived and I was excited to give it everything I had. I had heard great things about the race and was keen to give it a big go. I was still in the hunt for the overall Double title, if the two guys I was racing had a bad day or a mechanical, after the mishaps of Kona.

We had Hawaiian Warriors send us off with a traditional dance and before I knew it the gun went off and we were in the water, a mad thrashing of arms, legs and really, all bodyparts. Far rougher than the Ironman swim, I got punched in the head and kicked in the nose before the first buoy and decided to chill off the back of the pack as I saw I was quite near the front and knew the day was a long one. I survived the swim as best as I could and was out the water in a respectable time.

Loved the fact that my Forerunner was able to include swim, bike, run & transitions into the equation smoothly. Out onto the bike and man, the course was brutal. I was going well for the first 5km or so, the intensity was great and I felt great. The slow puncture (in my hip flexors) was next to arrive and was debilitating and I had really expected to feel flat at times, but this was totally not what I expected. My heart rate dropped by 8 beats and my hip flexors were super tight, without the power I have become accustomed to on the bike. The thing I had spent all year working on was now my biggest enemy. I was super on the flat parts, but everytime the road went up I went backwards. I was unstable out the saddle, something which made me laugh. My Fretten will tell you I love powering over the little hills, but yesterday I was hopeless, looking for a smaller gear and unable to get out the saddle at times, my hips were so tired.

The ride was super technical and the Morewood Zula was amazing on the technical stuff. I was loving the downhill stuff, slippery as all hell. The new tires were superb and the bike handled so well. Made up some places on the downhill but the Double title was gone, Thomas came by with a smile and I salute him for the effort he made yesterday.

Onto the run with the new Puma Haraka cross country flats, nursing toenails on the verge of falling out and wondering how I was going to lift my feet with them tired hips. True to form, the first km was flat and I was motoring. Then it went uphill for about 4km and I died, having to walk the steep stuff a few times with a soft chuckle to myself. When it was flat I could motor, but the hills were abysmal and the effort to lift my feet was excruciating, the hip flexors crying for relief. I caught 3 guys in my age group but it was in the end, not enough.

The beach was fun and the spooky forest was amazing. I cheered and jumped across the finish line with a big smile, happy that it was over. 4th and 80 odd seconds short of the podium on a day when I was really not myself is a big achievement for me and I was super happy with that awful tinge of “what could have been” but really, super happy to also have finished 2nd amateur in the world for the Double to Tommy, who has won it before and had raced 22 Ironmans and 6 Xterra Maui races.

Congrats to Conrad for winning his 4th title and to Mikey Keith for domination of the 15-19 category. He passed me on the bike like I was having a picnic at the lowest of my times, but his form picked me up and gave me a bit of vooma for the rest of the ride. The kid has a bright future indeed.

To all who dominated to the afterparty with myself and the joyous South Africans, thank you. Those who came along for the mass skinny dip, fantastic. I am awaiting the photo from Dan on the Koi I caught with my bare hands to share with you and hope nobody is sharing photos from the large gathering in the hot tubs on any social network. It was such a laugh, ALL night long, until the sun came out this morning.

Will get the pictures and the Garmin info up ASAP when I am back on my pc and have the pictures from official race photographers.

Until then, I wish you an amazing week ahead. Go out there and find something that gives you the joy a child experiences when he falls head over heels madly in love with his newest toy. Divulge in its amazepeguinballerness and squeeze every millimeter of joy out of it.

Continue Reading →

What a week that has gone by. Thought to drop an array of thoughts, facts and figures before its out. Below is first up, the run of Ironman. 3:24 for a slightly long run, but if you click through you will see the moving time is 3:13 and you should be able to see the short and long potty stops. 11 minutes of lost time, but that was what it was. I am still proud to have run a 3:13 ex potty stops with a seriously bloated stomach and hyponatremia. I am excited to see what I could run on a great day now. I am thinking under 3:05 on a good day.

…then I spent the week hobbling around with bad, oozing toes, which have subsided and I have now been for 2 short runs and all seems to be ok. Have ridden and swum every day until today, which has been interesting in its own, training the week after Ironman. Tough, but the legs did come back.

The afterparty was great. Yes, the skinny dipping tradition continued. Thanks to the Specialized crew who were part of the madness and respect to driving the crazies around the island looking for stuff to do at 3am.

Today we went exploring and man, this island is amazing. In 7 hours we did sunshine, clouds, rain, lava rock, lunar landscape, tropical rainforest, pine forest, Scotland landscape, true KZN style areas, flowing Karoo outbacks, dry desert, and the beach. Crazy, but here on Big Island you get 13 of the worlds 14 climates, all on 1 island. It varied from 10 degrees celcius to 35 as well. Crazy.

It, by the way, is not possible to jump over a waterfall, as witnessed in this awesome picture. Them Puma’s are bright and have had so many compliments about them. Another impossible thing is to summons whales from the highway, desperate as I tried…

What there is here though, is ALOT of climbing on the bike. Check this for a ride, which we did on the Zula’s this week…

1300m climbing in 30 odd kilometers. It was so beautiful up above the clouds. We are going back there tomorrow. Excited. Got some new tires which are the bizniz and thanks to Dan for that. It’s been a joy to hang out with him as well after the interview we did a week or so ago, which was actually done way before I left.

Having TheHousemate here has been easy too. He has left the world of financial business at home and has trained up a storm. He is going to suprise himself next weekend in Maui, when we are racing this. Have met Tommy, who has won the Double (Ironman + Xterra combined time) and he is about 7 minutes up on me. Really too bad I had a bad day out at Ironman, because its doubtful I will put 7 minutes into him at Xterra, but I am going out there leaving nothing on the course, going ALL IN, just a hairs breath short of full retard to make it happen. I am looking forward to being on the fabled course and all it has to offer.

That’s really it for this week. Been a great, eventful, busy one. Going to watch Jackass 3D tonight for some light entertainment. Should be amazing. Chat on Monday…

Continue Reading →