When I arrived the room was buzzing with these incredibly fit giant like guys talking about the latest Ironman they had done and future ones they were planning. Now I had heard about this event and it was most definitely something I never EVER wanted to do. I had done six marathons but the thought of an Ironman was ridiculous, an insane undertaking reserved exclusively for the mentally unstable.

And yet here were these guys Keeto, Robby Ricc, Eugene 'the Padre' talking about the race like it was common place. Dav Lombard the rookie had entered one in his first season and was fishing for advice. I listened in, awestruck - I thought a marathon was a big thing - these guys thought a marathon was a fitting dessert to a swim starter and a bike main course. And slowly, without me even realising it, the seeds of insanity were sown.

It took another 9 months and plenty of talk before I came round to the concept of actually entering an Ironman event, and even then I could only contemplate a flat course. I was horrified to learn that many IM courses are not flat and indeed some are positively mountainous. IM Western Australia, flatter than a cane toad roadkill, was more my cup of tea, and the timing was perfect with 12 months to go. I booked my place and my flight. The journey had begun.

This is the point where I skip a big chunk. I won't labour over the training schedule or build up, except to say I invested in a 5 month program with Mark Allen Online - definitely challenging, but one that did me no end of good on race day. I was fortunate to have a good build up with no injuries - I changed my diet, I started doing weights, I drank less, I slept more. Fear fuelled my preparation and I got to Australia desperate to race, still unsure if I would be able to eventually cross the finish line and be able to say 'I am an Ironman'. But first there was a visit to a local school.

Busselton Jetty

Australia
IMWA is held in Busselton, a small beautiful and relatively sleepy town, until IM week that is, when 1000 athletes descend on the streets: the place jumps with nervous tension and the percentage of men with shaved legs increases dramatically. The town gets fully involved with countless supporters and volunteers. Part of the event is an Adopt an Athlete program where local classes will associate with an overseas competitor to get a better understanding of the event and promote sport and health in general. My Year 3 class at Geographe Primary were a joy to talk to and treated me like a rockstar, even asking for my autograph! Kids are pretty straight to the point too: Why are you doing Ironman? Are you doing more? How fast are you? Yes, good questions - next!

In Busselton we had a great house, with 3 couples, 3 kids, 3 guys and our favourite supporter, Kerry. In our group myself, Robby Ricc, Steve Small, Dave Jones and Brett Fouche were competing - Paolo Lencioni was also in the race but would be staying in his own accommodation. After a few days we were all dialled in to the Oz timezone more or less, and now it was just a case of resting up and keeping everything sharp for race day. Steve had some tough luck though and developed a cold literally a couple of days before the race - he thought about withdrawing, but decided he'd wait til race day to see how he felt.

L-R: Dave, Steve, Me, Brett, Robby and future Kona champion Jakie Moto

The 3AM alarm went and we starting fuelling up for the big day. I had had a poor night's sleep, my heart pounding like a freight train, and the best I could do was sit up and read trash fiction to calm my frayed nerves. I was well rested from the previous days though and I knew this night would have little effect. Steve was still feeling off but decided to start the race at least. In the dark we loaded the cars and headed for the start and our final prep. I read somewhere 70% of IM is getting to the start line - now just 140.6 miles separated us from that and a coveted finisher's medal.

The Swim
The first leg of IMWA is a sea swim along the 1.8k Busselton jetty, around some bouys and then back along the other side. Very simple and very easy for sighting. Since there is only 1 turn, congestion is kept to a minimum. I had had concerns about soaring temperatures - the weekend before had been 35C and winds had been buffeting the coast in the days leading up to the event - I needn't have worried: come race day the seas were calm, barely a whisper of wind and forecast temperatures of low 20s with cloud cover. We couldn't have asked for more.

The starter's horn blew and the 'washing machine' of 1000 swimmers thrashing for position went into a spin cycle. There were 4 corrals based on time and this seemed to reduce a lot of the mayhem I had been warned about - I got into a rhythm and settled in. A couple of elbows to the face, but nothing serious and much less than London triathlon for example. The swim just seemed so smooth and I had to repeatedly tell myself to hold back and not burn myself at this early stage.

I tried to pick up a draft several times but this wasn't so easy - the swell, gentle though it was, did push people about and I felt that I had to put in more effort to stay aligned with the feet in front. I could concentrate on my stroke better without the constant need for readjustment.

Robby aka Biggles exits the swim

As we approached the beach I upped my kick slightly to get some blood flow to the legs and before I knew it I was scrambling up the ramp and through the first bunch of spectators. I was very happy with the 63 minutes on the clock - quicker than I expected but without undue effort expended. I pressed the wrong button on my new HRM though and rather than the lap timer I got the stop button, only realising this much later. This meant I was to be unsure of my overall time throughout the race.

The Bike
A straightforward transition and I was on the road. It was still a little cold, so I was glad to put in some work to warm up. The course is 3 laps on very flat and smooth surfaced roads. Some sections can be quite exposed to the wind, but at this stage of the day it was very calm. My goal was a sub 6, but a sub 5:30 would be ideal. This meant averaging 32.5 kmph so I dialled into 33 and was happy to note that the effort wasn't excessive.

Robby had given me some good advice before the race - find a comfortable gear and then shift down 1 - that way you can ensure you're not pushing too hard. The temptation is to start gunning it because you feel so fresh having tapered for a couple of weeks, but I had bonked so many times in training that I had a healthy respect for the distance. Plus there's the small matter of a marathon later in the day.

Earlier in the week, Steve and I had gone to listen to a talk by Jason Shortis, the previous year's winner who had put in an awesome 2:44 run to close down his rivals and take the title. He talked about his pacing strategy:

I had to laugh - everything I have read says pacing is paramount - I was in no way tempted to try and emulate a hardcore pro like Shortis. I shifted down a gear and settled in.

The bike has 3 main turnarounds where you can guage your relative position and I could soon see that Robby was about 5 mins ahead. I wasn't tempted to pick up the pace - I was happy to stay in contact and too large an increase or decrease in the gap would have set off alarm bells. At about this stage, Paulo came flying by - he was to post a 5:04 bike that day and had decided on a Shortis like do or die strategy. He knew that he risked detonating on the run, but was willing to give it a go in a bid for a sub 10.

On the second lap I had started to find my rhythm and began to up the pace, picking off the odd competitor here and there. I was closing slowly on Robby and had the gap down to about 1 minute. In the week in Oz, I had just about adjusted to the 9 hour time difference but I hadn't managed to get my bowels in sync - now it became evident that a bit of less than light relief was going to be required. Somewhat streamlined and the gap back to 5 minutes, I resumed the chase.

On the final lap the wind began to pick up and the pace dropped off. With about 40ks left I caught up with Robby - very sportingly he said it was OK for me to carry on and 'Take his slot' (his Kona slot that is). The fact that we were both about an hour down on the sharp end of our age group didn't seem to faze either of us. At the end of the bike I was definitely ready to get out of the saddle. Due to my stop watch debacle earlier I didn't know my exact split but I reckoned I was pretty close to the 5:30 goal (the official bike and run splits include T1 and T2 respectively so it's difficult to guage your exact times).

The Run
Out on my feet I felt relatively fresh and was looking forward to this, my strength discipline. My goal was to try and rattle off 5 min per km and post a sub 3:30 - very ambitious but training had gone well and I thought the only way to find out just how well was to give it a go. The first few kilometers went quickly - too quick in fact. I was posting sub 9:30 for the 2k splits and struggling to slow down. I decided that the pace felt comfortable enough for me to stick to it so long as I wasn't pushing.

Shortis did actually give some sound advice on aid stations - he said he alternated the stations spaced every 2k as follows:

1. Gel and water
2. Carb drink and water
3. Coke

This gives you something to focus on and take your mind off what's happening to your body. I tried this and another trick from Gordo Byrn - holding an ice cube in the palm of each hand. This had a double benefit: it cools you down and also by the time the cubes have melted you are practically at the next aid stop. Although I hadn't trained with it, I had read about the magical qualities of flat coke in the ironman and can testify to its restorative powers.

Predictably the times started to slip on the second lap - this is the wasteland zone - that point where you're really beginning to tire but are still a long way from the finish. With the out and back loops it was great to see the other guys out on the course. Also big thanks to our support crew Kerry, Nats, Belinda and Jeff - their shouts of encouragement really made a difference at this tough part of the day.

As I came past the second lap finish, I heard the announcer shouting home a competitor for a sub 9. So I needed 14ks in 90 minutes for a sub 10:30 - by this stage I knew the sub 3:30 marathon split was not happening but I was determined to give it everything. About 32ks in I passed Paulo, who was suffering from the harsh pace he had set himself earlier in the day. "Go Howard, you can do a sub 10!" he shouted at me, and indeed for a minute I picked up the pace, until I realized he was a little off in his calculations - still, I was happy for the encouragement.

With about 7ks left a runner started to come past me - up til now I had for the most part been overtaking people and those coming by me were usually a lap ahead (for example the top 3 ladies who I got to cheer on prior to their finish). But this was the last lap - anyone catching at this stage was in my ballpark. I decided I would try to hang on to his pace for as long as possible and it seemed like I could just about manage it. After 3k he looked over to me: "Mate, you doing really well." Surprised, I immediately replied "So are you!". "Yeah but I'm doing the team event" he countered. At this stage the smallest thing can pick you up or drop you down, and suddenly I had no real motivation to keep up - my pacemaker was 'just' doing the marathon and I'm sorry to say my fighting spirit took a temporary hit. This just goes to show how big the mental aspect of ironman is - the team player forged ahead.

Despite this, I was close to the finish now and all that was required was to dig deep and keep moving. The remaining few Ks were a blur and I had to focus hard, and then finally the finishing chute approached and the culmination of many months was palpably close. I can truly say that crossing the line was unlike any other experience - anyone who has been there knows the feeling, although I wouldn't for the life of me know how to describe it - all I can say is, it is very very good and will stay with you long after the event itself.

Jakie's recovery strategy in action

My final marathon time was 3:37 and my total time was 10:16:54 (but hey - nobody counts the seconds right? It's a 10:16). This was better than my dream time of 10:30. Everything had clicked into place - a strong 5 month training program without injury, a relaxed taper, perfect weather conditions and a flat flat course which I paced well. All of us did PBs except Steve who had come down with a cold before the race but soldiered on through regardless. Robby was hard on my heels with a 10:28 - a great performance considering he has a family and had had much less opportunity to train than I had.

A couple of interesting facts from the awards ceremony: one guy had done in excess of 60 ironmen, another fool had broken the record by doing IMWA as his 15th IM of the year, and check out 72 year old Yutaka Kojima who came home in an incredible 13:29! And the youngest male age group that I beat? The 55-60 category, 20 years my senior. Next stop Boston marathon and then IM Switzerland in July.

See you on the roads!
Howard