So where the bloody hell are you?

I landed in the Sunshine State yesterday, my home, the state with aqua clear water, clear blue skies, where women skip along the waterfront in tiny bikinis flashing their bronzed skin while men muscle up in board shorts with a surfboard under one arm and stubby in the other. I was excited. I'd been suffering in Melbourne, eagerly awaiting this time away where I could remember what it felt like to be in heat, humidity and suffering sweaty-ness.

Sigh. That would all be true if the plane diverted to Hawaii.

In the 24ish hours since landing, it has been cold, windy and has rained non-stop. Never mind, I thought, this can't bring me down! I'm on holidays! And I live in Melbourne...pfft this is nothing.

Then I remembered I'd need my wet weather gear. It's excellent I remembered this while at Cairns airport when said gear is still at home. In Melbourne.

Never mind, I've ridden in worse before. Who needs wet weather gear when its barely raining?

I get to the apartment and it's cold. I dig into my suitcase for some warm clothes, specifically a tracksuit and remember - that's at home too. In Melbourne.  Fortunately I am staying next to Cairns' answer to Chadstone so a quick 20min later and I've stocked up on some Melbourne-appropriate gear (while silently thinking this is CRAZY that I'm wearing jumpers in Cairns....anyone who doesn't believe in global warming, please, come and take a look at the tropical north these days).

Up early this morning for an easy 90min ride. I had no idea where to ride as we were told not to ride on the Captain Cook Highway until race day (and I accidentally learnt why this is so when I ended up on said highway with semis roaring past. Got it). So I rode around following bike lanes until I found a decent run along a road parallel to the Highway. It seems others have found their way to this road as I was joined by a kiwi guy for part of the way who was doing his 2nd IM after surviving (I think that's an appropriate term, given the weather on that day) Ironman New Zealand 2011. Any concerns I had about the mild rain and wind in Cairns were kept to myself.

It was during the ride that I realised my gears were not shifting properly. I couldn't get them right so I thought, never mind, there's a stack of bike shops around. I'll just pull into one near my apartment and get them to look at it.

Which I did, and they did and the gear problem was sorted quickly. The source of the gear problem, however, was a suspected worn chain which the mechanic informed me "should" last the race.

"Should" is not "will" and in my line of work is the sort of language we use when either (a) we know exactly what the right decision is but are trying to guide another person to make that decision; or (b) we are not sure what the answer is so are trying to protect ourselves by indicating that there is room for more than one possible outcome.

Either of these circumstances was not going to fly for me. "Should" had to be turned into "will" immediately. However, for this to happen, I was informed I would also need a new cassette. I'm not sure if that was a "should" get a new cassette or I "will" need a new cassette. In any event, by this stage I just wanted to get this shit sorted so I told them to do whatever needed to be done (which I suppose in mechanic terms is the equivalent to throwing your credit card behind the bar).

I didn't care if I was being taken for a ride or not; as a fellow Queenslander, generally we are an honest bunch and with 2 major races in 3 days time, their workshop booked out and people coming in and out looking for help, I don't think they were in any need of extra work taking up their day.

These guys could not have been friendlier and more helpful; I hung out in the shop for an hour (in full kit, helmet still on like a loser) and chatted away to them, their Specialized rep and had a great morning (dint in the credit card aside). Made me remember how friendly and open people up here are; down to earth and aways up for a chat. So to the guys at Pump 'N' Pedals, thank you for helping out this Melbourne girl today at the last minute.

After this little detour to my planned morning, I went down to the Esplanade to check out the race start and see how things were looking. The water was in a sorry state and I can only hope it improves by Sunday:

Transition was taking shape and that's when I started to feel excited:

But the thing that really got me buzzed was seeing the finishing line arch. I honestly cannot wait to cross that line on Sunday; the culmination of 7 solid months of training towards that one goal:

Forecast is for a max of 28 degrees, 8km/hr S, 80+% humidity and late showers. If that eventuates, it will be perfect tropical weather for a race. Fingers crossed!

Control

This is the final training weekend before 70.3 Cairns and what an absolute crapper of a forecast. Cold, wet, windy. The trifecta of training hell served up by Melbourne. But I'm not letting this get me down because I've trained through this junk for months, it's one more weekend and then I'm out. Off back to my home state, ready to take on this race that has been such a big focus (and goal) for me for so long now.

A lot of people have been asking me how I'm feeling about racing; am I nervous/excited/stressed/anxious. Am I worried about what could happen with flats, nutrition or heat. An equal number of people (admittedly most from work) stare at me like I've actually lost my mind when I explain what the race entails and simply ask various forms of "why on earth are you putting yourself through THAT?"

I've blogged and thought about these questions before......why people do Ironman, half ironman, triathlon....but oddly for me the answer (for myself) came out of the blue.

I'm not nervous. I'm not stressed. I'm strangely calm. And it's because, for the first time in what I think my adult life, I am putting myself into a situation where the mind is willing, the training's been done but there are absolutely no guarantees that the hard work will translate into a good result. And this is bizarrely compelling to me.

For me, I've gone about my life often with clear goals in mind and a very focused vision and method as to how those goals will be achieved. Largely this entailed hard work, sacrifice, dedication and a relentlessness that comes from wanting something badly. Professionally, this attitude has paid dues and I have always been a firm believer that you need to work hard to have any opportunity of achieving or controlling the outcome you want.

And its really that word. Control. There are many areas in life that we can control, and equally there are those that we can't. I think many people like to invest heavily in the areas that are capable of being controlled because then you're guaranteed the outcome you'd like...and a life that is well within your comfort zone. It's less attractive (at times) to leave things up to fate, luck or any other process to determine a life path.

I'm honest about the fact that the last 10 years of my life has been heavily focused on my job, building a career and being dedicated to investing in this aspect of my life. This process, and the outcome, is so significantly in my control that the investment almost (and I stress, almost) guarantees the result.

For me, there is a thrill in making that investment, working really hard....but then losing some of that control in the moment of truth. This race, the process of working towards a half ironman, has allowed me to explore this side of myself; the part that is only capable of being partially controlled. The rest - well, that's up to my body and how pleasant it decides to be on race day (as well as a multitude of other variables that, you guessed it, are out of my control).

Call it a calculated gamble with the odds on my side. But come race day, the thing I am most excited about is seeing just which way these cards are dealt.

It's nearly time

So....here we are. 10 training days left and 16 days until I race in my first half ironman. 2 years and 3 months since the day I decided that I'd race a half, after watching and Ironman and thinking "pfftt can't be that hard" (umm...right) I'll be floating around with a bunch of other crazies at 6:45am in a mass start in Cairns.

How am I feeling. Well, pretty good. Training's picked up and has gone really well. Unfortunately work has hit a manic patch so there's been a run of long, stressful days which hasn't been ideal but work always takes priority so have fitted sessions around the hours most of the time. My running's strong, bike is solid and my swim - it's fine. I think swimming is one of those disciplines where you could always do more, but the return on investment isn't as pronounced (for me anyway) then the time I could spend running.

I've started some heat work this week, which has been a bit of a shock to the system but in a good way. I'm a big fan of doing things to help build race confidence and this is one piece of training that will definitely help in this area. I have a bit of a mental block about racing in hot climates; I had a really rough race last year in Noosa for a bunch of reasons (only one really being heat) and I think it's scarred me a little bit. Anything that helps to distance that experience from front of mind is a good thing.

A couple of weeks ago, I picked up my race suit (all about the outfit! ) from XOSIZE here in Victoria. Given the warm climate, I decided to hunt down a light coloured suit and fortunately Rocket Science Sport makes are terrific 20BPM race suit in white and red in a super stylish design. I snapped that gem up and have given it a run during a couple of mag trainer heat sessions to test it out. I have to say, it is terrific. I have never been able to find a tri suit that I could legitimately say is comfortable; the chamois was either useless and made the ride uncomfortable, the stitching rubbed in the wrong spots, it cut under my arms or in other bad spots. But so far, I can't fault this suit. And the chamois is great - big tick for me (if you're keen to pick up this suit, or any other products from XOSIZE, they've got a great online shop and use the code 'XOSIZE' for 10% off) 

I've got a solid weekend ahead of me - big run, bike bike and some more heat sessions.  I'm really getting buzzed about the whole experience. I can't believe the opportunity to race is nearly here and I feel so lucky that my cards have been dealt this way and I get to experience my first half ironman in Cairns - it feels oddly right to race in my home state, like somehow the journey has brought me full circle. And having my parents there means so much to me; I don't get to see them often and I'm so happy they'll have the chance to see me race, and see the "tri world" that I talk so much about. 

See you soon Cairns!!

It's not just about the race

I love race weekends. I don't have to be racing, spectating or even in the same state as the race; there's something about knowing there's a major race on, that people I know are stepping up and going out to achieve a personal goal, that makes me excited. More then that, it makes my motivation peak all over again.

This weekend was the bookends of 70.3 Busso and IM Australia. A little bittersweet for me as Busso was to be my first HIM, but alas was not to be. It was awesome tracking the event online, keeping tabs on the couple of people I knew racing and hearing the feedback from the day.

A little closer to home was IM Australia today in Port Macquarie. The more I get involved with this sport, the more exposed I become to people's journeys and the more I pay attention to Ironman, the more I realise one thing - it's not just about the race. People may think it's about the race, turn up and cheer about the race and all the preparation is for the race - but the process that is being an ironman triathlete, what it means to race ironman, is not just about the race. Don't get me wrong, the race is the cream on top - it's the outcome for all the hard work. But the race is just the baby; what most people (other than those who live with you) don't see is the hard work, sacrifices, injuries, tears, financial and social sacrifices and strain that leads into that one day - let's call them the labour pains.

Being a long course athlete is about the long days, the early starts, the constant repetitive groundhog day that you spin in for 6-12 months before carefully carving all that work into a perfectly tapered package for race day. It's common to hear people say "I can't believe you do this sport (referring to HIM or IM racing)" after watching one of the races. And it's true, the race itself is an impressive display of human athleticism. But it isn't the race that makes the athlete impressive. It's the dedication, the commitment, the love that the athlete must have to agree to sign up for an event - 12 months out - and then proceed to make many sacrifices non-triathletes would baulk at for a solid 12 months in order to execute a performance for 1 day only. That's 12 months of work, sacrifices and pain for 1 day.

When was the last time you made a year's worth of sacrifices for the opportunity to achieve something for 1 day only? It's pretty crazy when you break it down. Take your job for example - you might work hard for 6 months for a promotion and, if you're lucky, you get promoted. Not for one day, not for 9 hours, but from that point forward. The hard work paid off. Now think about ironman athletes. They work hard like that, for an outcome that is also as important. But they only get that "promotion" for a matter of hours before they go back to real life.

So what is it that drives so many to go on the ironman journey? To endure months and months of labour, to then subject yourself to hours and hours of pain, for fleeting seconds of joy as you cross the line?

There's a million answers to that question. But I think there is one underlying reason that plays a part for everyone - to prove you can. The biggest demographic of ironman entrants is between the age of 30-45, predominantly male. You may have noticed that triathlon is an expensive tipple and Ironman is top shelf - a race entry will set you back close to $800-$900. So not only do you have to be fit, but you also need to be reasonably cashed up. So many of these 'typical majority' will be mid-career, achieved certain milestones and goals, likely to have met the better half, possibly married and maybe with child. Life's looking pretty comfortable. And with comfort comes complacency. And for competitive minded, ambitious types complacency is a dirty word. Complacency can equal laziness and no-one wants to be saddled with that old chestnut. These types want a challenge.

So the search commences. Anyone who owns a tie and works in an office has no doubt heard of or been roped into a corporate triathlon over the years so perhaps this is some people's foot in the door; others may have grown up with the Wide World of Sports and seen Ironman on TV. Heck, maybe its a Google search for "hardest sport in the world". Who knows. But its a common desire of some sort that is bringing these people together, to make these sacrifices, to punish their bodies and their minds for a few seconds of glory.

Cause their friends do it. To beat their best mate. To silence the internal voice that says they can't. To show their children that anything is possible. Crazy? Sort of. Addictive? Absolutely. Tell me you don't want to do one

Do you remember your first time?

It's a touch under 5 weeks till my newly-rescheduled race day and I feel comfortable in finally making this bold statement.

I'm getting my shit together.

That's right, I have had a stern word to myself, pumped my own tyres up and Google imaged every positive, motivational affirmation I could find. After being sick for a couple of weeks, as much as anyone desperately hates being sick and wants to train, the reality is getting back into training is not that straightforward. All the old excuses are still there, ready to roll out whenever you can't be bothered/it's too cold/you're too tired/you are having a sook/cracking the sads/want to eat chocolate on the couch.

The main reason for gathering said shit is that my first time is coming up and I want it to go well. I don't want to leave anything to chance, I want to prepare myself as best as I can and know that when I'm treading water at the swim start, FREAKING OUT BECAUSE I'M DOING A HALF IRONMAN that there's no reason to freak out, the work's been done, the body and the mind is ready and it's a matter of executing the race plan.

Being my first time, I (like anyone else) have questions. With the recent change in race (from a flat, relatively cool location to an undulating, hot humid one) the most obvious question to myself is "can I perform in the heat and humidity". Answer - not entirely certain. I hope so; I'm doing what I can to prepare my body for it, but the reality is that training in Melbourne and racing in Cairns will give the body a shock. But simple things like nutrition, a good race suit (black not being a sensible option!),  hydration and heat acclimation in the weeks leading in will help.

Next question to myself - I've been training to race a flat course; will the change to an undulating/hilly one matter? Answer - I'm pretty confident it won't. I've done a good chunk of hill rides and work mixed into my prep and while I'm not the strongest hill rider, I'm good enough to get through. Besides, what goes up must come down :)

I think every first timer must think about these next questions, regardless of what course they're racing:

* Just how hard is this race going to be?
* Should I have a goal time in mind or just be happy to finish?
* Can I run a half marathon off the bike? And if I can run it, can I run it well?
* What does racing for ~5 hours feel like? (some may say 'hell')
* What do I do if I mess up my nutrition/vomit it up/drop or lose something on the bike? How do I protect myself from the bonk?
* Is it really worse to stop running for a moment then to push through?
* How much is it going to hurt?

I can't help but think that long course racing has some similarities to childbirth and binge drinking (work with me here).  Both result in the individual experiencing varying levels of pain that they swear is excruciating (I've never given birth, but given I am female, I am fairly comfortable with assuming that childbirth is the worst pain a woman can experience; binge drinking often results in a chronic hangover that leaves one moaning that they are 'never drinking again' as the effects are so brutal). Yet, with time, the pain of both events subside and only happy memories remain - a beautiful baby or memory of 'a great night out' - such that the individual is more then happy to do it all again.

So, given that half ironman and ironman involves individuals punishing themselves with three different sports for anywhere between 4-17 hours, in heat/cold/wind/rain, one can safely assume that a great deal of pain and suffering will accompany that experience. Yet, these same people will sign up to race that same distance again....and again....and again.....even after swearing "I'm never doing it ever again".

Circling back to my first timer question of "how much is this going to hurt?" - assume a fair bit. Don't believe what an experienced racer tells you as they will now have their blissful, post-race-faded-pain memories (like mothers who try to tell you giving birth isn't that bad) and will instead tell you that they recall it being hard but that it as "worth it" (or something equally as vague).

My suggestion (as a first timer) - assume the worst. It'll hurt. You'll hate some of it, question why you're doing it, what an insane sport this is, maybe cry, perhaps vomit. You'll look mortifyingly unattractive. You will smell like a toilet and a dirty washing basket and look like you slept in a gutter. There may be blood. If you can accept all of this, and be comfortable with it, race day will exceed all your expectations.