How do you get to be called "The Padre"?

I suddenly woke from my hypoglycaemic fatigue haze when a wide eyed man in a red tri suit slapped me on my shoulder in T2 and shouted "Lets go run!"....

Six days after I rode the Argus in Cape Town, I sat down for the Ironman South Africa race briefing in Port Elizabeth (PE). Paul Wolf, race director, tried to sound as confident as possible when nervous foreigners were grilling him about the measures that would be taken if the wind remained East (it was pumping for 2 days solid now) and the blue-bottles were still there the next day. The sea was a washing machine, filled with the dreaded stinging creatures, those of us who grew up in PE know all too well.

Paul's response was that the canoeists have adrenaline on board if you happened to be allergic, and there would be some pots of vaseline available at the start for your face, hands and feet...and he added "don't worry, the wind will swing tonight - PE never has 3 consecutive days of East..". I could see they were not convinced and knowing him from my UPE days, it was clear he was worried that the next day would bring a repeat of what happened in NZ a few weeks ago. But then I checked the barometer that morning before leaving for the briefing, and it had dropped quite a bit...in fact a hell of a lot and that meant one thing only - Paul was going to get his West he needed to have a full IM race...it was just a question of how much of it was coming...

Well that question was answered at 4am the next morning when I got up. I had been listening to the wind for a while, but when my parents plastic patio furniture set made it way past the bathroom window, the alarm bells started ringing..

I went through my usual routine and just after 5am headed for Hobie beach. To say I was not nervous would be a partial lie (you won't believe me anyway - all IM virgins are packed with 90% nerves and 10% carbs), but somehow having had a race the weekend before helped and that feeling of nausea you often get pre-race was thankfully not there.

The 90min at the start went quickly. Checked my tyre pressure and succeeded in breaking off the value of my back tyre inside the pump...change it in the dark under pressure?...why? ...there is no valve left to deflate so why would it deflate on the ride? ..No way so I just put the cap back on and went to the change tent. 180km with a broken valve...not a good start.

The Swim
When we lined up the sea "looked flat". Thank you West. We were supposed to watch for the smoke from a ship's cannon which would signal the start, but I missed all that and started running because everyone else was running...I knew the 1st 300m to turn 1 would be chaos...and it was. But no worse than the London Tri. What was different was that the sea was far from flat. A strange chop & current combo made finding a rhythm for technically poor swimmers like myself impossible. Esp. against the wind after the far turn. I re-entered the surf to start lap 2 on 39min...5min slower than what I was hoping for but it was congested and the conditions rough. Next lap would be better I'm physically feeling good. Not to be..it was worse...I seemed to be swimming in an S-shape and found guiding harder than on lap 1. Came out in 1:21 and by the time I reached the clock after the run on the beach and stripping the wetsuit under the showers it was 1:23. So a poor swim and onto the bike with the broken back tyre valve.

The Bike
Now it was pissing with rain. I got my cycle bag and headed for the tent. The tent was packed I had to share a chair. So at least I'm not the only one who had a poor swim. I struggled a bit to get my co-ords in T1, had to re-pin my number to the race belt and eventually left with my socks in my hand. Slipped these on quickly when I got to my bike (racked under what was the Argentinean flag before the gale West got hold of it) and off I went. Mounted in what I got as 1:29 so a T1 of more than 6min; poor again and my sub 12h target time looked in danger without the race even starting yet really.

The rain was persistent and the wind gale - I knew the 1st half of each 60km loop was pretty much uphill all be it gradual, but more importantly, directly into the wind. I "settled" on the bike, started eating and drinking and just generally felt happy to have survived the swim. I was steadily passing people and everyone was struggling with the conditions. After an eternity I reach the turn and the wind was on my back. Time to put the hammer down and make up time. At one stage I was doing 54km/h on Marine Drive. Just before that I caught Keith Buhr who had a better swim than me. I could see he was feeling the effects of struggling with a chest infection for weeks leading up to the race. But Keith is an IM twice over. He knows how to fight. We said a few words and I went on.

First lap I split at 1:53. Not bad I thought these conditions border on brutal. Next lap much of the same. It was a draft fest and at one stage I had a SA Pro lady on my wheel for the best part of 5km. I dropped her after the turn and she passed me much later again on the 2nd lap of the run. I won't mention who she is but I was a little annoyed.

Thankfully the end came in bright sunshine (but no less wind) and boy was I glad to get off the bike. My watch said 5:42 as I eased off slightly on the last lap to up the cadence and revive the legs for the marathon (in vain I may add but I tried because the book said I should). Enter T2 and sat down. My lower back was stiff after the swim (I only breathe left) and 5:40 odd later on tribars grinding into the wind, I could not put my running shoes on - well I could not reach my feet. Luckily 2 nice volunteers helped me and then this lunatic slapped my shoulder and shouted "lets go run!".

The Run
Keeto. He came to SA claiming he started his training too late and just wanted a holiday before the final 2 months of prep for IM Lanzarote. We all knew though after he ran us to pieces in the HIM training day 3 weeks ago, that he was in 10x better shape than any of us. Now he was waiting impatiently for me to start the marathon with him. After 180km on a bike I was pretty much ready to do anything else but bike. Even try run 42km. But 42km with this running machine. No way. I kept up (well more like he hung back) for the 1st 3km to 1st aid station. But I knew there is no way I could hang on for 42 and if he kept going he had a good chance of going sub 11h. That was not my target. So finally he left me and it was me and the remaining 39km. Three times through the grounds of my old university. The support all day had been awesome but it was exceptional on the run. Remember the weather was f'king foul and these people had no reason to be there. They were not trying to prove some insane point like the rest of us and no-one was going to give them a medal and a certificate and photos they could bore uninterested people with for years to come. But they stayed and clapped and shouted our names for hours on end. First lap I ran all the way bar a 30 sec pee stop. 1:14 split heading for a 3:45 marathon if I kept it up and sub 11. Ha ha ha. That soon changed to a 1:26 for 2nd lap and Keeto had put 2km on me.

As Coach Troy says in his series of Spinervals DVDs - "It's The Whole Truth".

I did not walk except for the 2 aid stations at each far turn, but my general pace was just slowing and my stride getting shorter. Keeto was storming and looking strong. I knew he was going to break 11 comfortably. I also passed Keith going the other way looking a lot better than he did on the bike. He looked like he was gaining on me with each lap. Good for him. I was fighting my own demons. We all were.

Starting lap 3 I decided I needed a new target. Even if I walked half the lap I was going to break 12h, so that seemed a bit soft. So 11:30 new target. On the slight rise to UPE I almost had no legs left, yet I somehow could keep running into the wind. I knew with 5.2km to go I had 26min to break 11:30. So no walking in last 5km and a decent running pace. In the end this felt quite comfortable and in hindsight I could/should have pushed a little harder earlier.

With 400m to go Sanet held out Annabel for me - all 15kg and 17months of wriggling baby monster. 4min to go for 11:30. I ran the 1st 50m with her on my right hip and entered the finishing shute. My lower back said "no my boy, not today; please spread the weight evenly and we see what we can do".

350m to go I put her on my neck, legs astride and manage to run another 200m odd, before walking in. I could see the clock and we were safe. Amazing how these petty things - 11:28 vs 11:31 - matter to us. Anyway we got there. All over. "You're an Ironman".

The noise the yank anouncer made scared Annabel and she wanted to get off my neck in a hurry. Lower back said "keep weight spread even" so not an option. A volunteer spotted the dilemma luckily and took her off me. Mommy in the meantime had made her way to the finish and we had a nice reunion and photos with my parents and some friends. A great day in hard conditions. Marathon time I split at 4:11. Not great but today anything goes.

Went to the recovery tent, got changed (with help in the shoe dept.) and started feeding. Eventually I was too lazy to go fill my plate and just stood at the pizza and watermelon tables. 15 cokes later I started looking for Keeto (he was having a massage so I failed to find him). As I sat down again, in walked a ghost in a space blanket. Keith Buhr. From being down and out on the bike he somehow squeezed a 3:53 marathon in, to break 12h. Absolutely amazing stuff ! He asked how I felt, and 15 cokes, half a watermelon and 3 pizzas later with 30min of recovery I said I was OK. He looked like he was about to fall asleep/pass out so I got him some pizza and 2 cokes. He consumed those and then ordered more! Again I fetched, he consumed, said he was going for a massage and got up and left!

Two local mates of mine finished in 12:23 and 12:44 and once I met & congratulated them, I started the mission of getting my bags, finding my bike and then searching for my car.

Two down, one to go. Easter weekend. Two Oceans. In between 4 weeks of recovery, some fishing and some scuba. Maybe the odd run...

Cheers from Africa
Eugene