Malaysia 2014 - getting over the line.

 The following account is based upon real events.  Names have been changed to protect the innocent, except for Satan and the magic dream monkey, they are far from innocent.

Okay so picture this. I am sitting in the mechanic tent, fixing a guy’s broken aerobottle on race morning, 60 mins before we are due to start. Why am I doing that? Well I am fixing my own flat tire I had discovered upon arrival this morning. Add to that the broken gear cable Jo had earlier and the fact in breaking that cable the bracket that holds the gear cable had snapped off her frame and was now being held together by cable ties and duct tape applied by yours truly, oh and the previous night I dreamt I was a monkey.... You just knew today was going to be special.

 

After South Africa we had taken a much more mentally relaxed approach to this build and with the help of Sean Foster made some changes to how we trained all together. We trained much more on- off. Either really hard or really easy, nothing really moderate at all, I think it actually really worked well. I was in very good run and swim form and I coming into the race. My bike form was okay but not great. Given the entire aim of this race was to get over the finish line I was very happy with how I lined up. I had a simple race plan.

Start.

Take it easy.

Stop.

Idiot proof really.

My nutrition plan was also simple. Eat and drink lots while riding, whenever I felt like it. Then on the run, pretty much do the same. Easy, what could possibly go wrong with that?

I will admit to having a very specific sodium plan to deal with the heat, bit that was really it from a regimented point of view

So the guy with the aerobottle has a blue frame and the tape I have is yellow. He looks upset the color does not match. "I also have blue" I say. "Why?" He says. "Mate, I DNF'd my last race. I have enough tools and spares to strip your bike, service it and rebuild it at any point in the race. There is no way I am not getting over the line".

Anyway, back to my puncture. It was a suck down puncture in a spoke hole. Don't let a shop fit 21mm rim tape to a 23mm wheel. Quick fix, yellow electrical tape. Color not important as you can't see it. I was actually really lucky it happened overnight as it could have happened at any point. The magic dream monkey must be looking after me.

 

So all set now, ready to go. Bags dropped off and me and Joey head to our start area for the swim. It was a TT style start, so no mass of bodies for us to smash through. It also meant we got to start together which was so awesome. One last good luck kiss and we are off.

 

The Swim

 

Also known as, the warm bath. It was 30 degree water. Earlier in the week we had swum, I tried a couple of hard efforts and straight away my shoulders started to really burn, like hot! So I knew I had to pace this well or I good literally cook myself in the swim. So I set out at a nice moderate effort. Reach, catch, pull, push, repeat. Oh yes, some rotation and breathing was also required. In no time at all I was cutting a wave through those people who got in the water ahead of me. It was like a game to catch them, pull up beside them, and then slowly push on past. A few people actually tried to race me, clearly they had no idea how bad for them pushing so hard on the swim would be. I played around with some of the "racers". Easing off to give them hope, only to dash their dreams like small ships on big rocks by cruising off ahead. Me bad sometimes.

I have to say it was about the easiest IM swim I have ever done, so with a time of 1:01 I was absolutely thrilled. Big shout out to JVW.

The Bike

 

Onto the bike after some smart comments from Pete Murray, race MC. "Have you got a license for those?" "Suns out, guns out mate."

 

Right children, what did we learn in April about pacing on the bike? Was it that it is very important and not to be taken lightly?

Yes, that was what we learned. So this was the deal. Max 300 watts on any climb, aiming for an average no higher than 250 for the whole ride. "What about 251" I hear you say. "NO f$%&#ing WAY" Are we clear?"

The first 10 km of the ride had 3 real short but steep climbs in them. And it was hot. Hot like I have never felt before. Even Murrayman which topped out at 39c, but dry heat, did not feel like this. It was like being baked, in an oven, wrapped in foil on a bed of hot sand.  Shall I go on about how hot it was? BUT, I had a secret weapon. Leading into the race we had done a great deal of research into acclimatization. Not just how long it takes but also the science behind it. Turns out you don't need to train in the heat to effect similar physiological changes in your body as if you had. The two things you need to achieve are higher blood plasma volume and low sodium content in your sweat. You can do this by just overheating yourself, repeatedly. So the week before departure I went to a steam room every day for an hour. The changes I managed were remarkable. At first my pulse was 120 just while sitting there. By the end of the week it was 70. That means I had made the changes on my body it needed.

It was with this confidence that I set off on the bike knowing I could handle the heat if I was sensible. So sensible I was. I watched my max and watched my average powers religiously. To my great surprise not many people came past me over the first few climbs. Which worried me but I was right on my target numbers so I stuck at it. My big focus was that I needed to feel good the second time I went over these hills not just the first.

 

Through the hills and onto a flat bit. The road surface was excellent and no wind so I locked onto 250 watts and I was flying along. Through all the villages, waving at the kids cheering on the side of the road. Taking it easy through aid stations bring careful to fill up on fluids at each one as well with at least one bottle of cold water over myself. Bad news was the organizers had not got gels out to the further aid stations, which I had planned on using so I had to change to relying solely on my bottle of Hammer sustained energy for that lap. So, things are going great, I am easily sitting on my power target, flying along and still very limited numbers of athletes have come past me. There is only one problem. I am getting hot feet. Now hot feet does not mean that my feet are hot, they were, but that was not the problem. Hot feet is inflammation between the small bones in your feet caused by pressure and it can be made worse by heat. It feels like your feet are in a vice while being set on fire. So this is an issue I had hoped to avoid but it was there so had to be dealt with. First stage of dealing with it, loosen shoes. Check. Second stage. Take feet out of shoes and wiggle toes in the air. Check. This continued on and off for the rest of the ride. Because I was ready for this I do not think it really slowed me too much it was just annoying.

 

On more problem, so far no monkeys! Thankfully I arrived at the monkey zone, about 40kms into the ride. This was also the start of the "red bull tough zone" a10km rather hilly timed section for which there was actually a prize for the fastest time. On this day, in these conditions, on an ironman course? It was at this point I realized some people are just born dumb. Seriously. I am still being a slave to my power. But now also looking for some furry friends to wave at. I ride the whole 10km of rolling hills, NOT ONE MONKEY!!?? I hit the turn around, I am devastated. Have I wasted this entire build? What will I do if I miss my monkey spotting target? But then, suddenly, as if summoned by the magic dream monkey I see one. Not only is it a monkey, it is the best type of monkey. A puzzled monkey. It has a drink bottle and is trying to get the drink out of it but is holding it the right way up, not inverted. Silly monkey. From that point out it is monkeytastic in the monkey zone. Thank you magic dream monkey, you have saved my race! I then spot Joey, she yells out her swim time which was amazing, frankly I was more amazed her bike was still holding together! But she is way further up the field than we had expected so I knew she was going well. I am out of the red bull idiot zone now and heading back to town. Again good surface, flat, hot, even hotter but a really annoying slight head wind. Not much, just enough to be a little bit tedious. The wind was lucky I was being governed by my power number or I would have kicked its arse.  Okay, we are back in town coming to the turn around and I check my time. 2:45. HOLD ON THERE, THAT IS NOT THE PLAN BIG BOY. This is a tough course and I am not here to ride a 5:30 bike PB! I quickly calculate that if I drop my power to 230 that I will make the next lap in about 2:55 giving me a. 5:40 split. On this day with the run as my key goal that would be just fine.

 

I arrive at aid station one. I am now out of nutrition due to the lack of gels out on course. But I am okay as I changed to use my Hammer stuff all at once. I pull over and stop. The guy with the gels walks towards and holds a gel out. He is holding about 10 gels in his other hand. I point at them and say "I'll have those thanks " I take them from him to much laughter from his fellow volunteers and stuff them inside my race suit. That is enough for one every 15 mins. Perfect. We are off again.

The next lap goes perfectly. Easy over the climbs. I congratulate myself going over climb three that it was still not too much of an effort. All is on track. It is then that the true face of this race starts to show itself. I am catching people who have started to totally explode. The hot swim and red bull idiot zone are starting to take their toll. I later also find out some people went over the first three hills so hard on the first lap they were cooked just 10km in. I also start to see people on their first lap. They will simply not make it today and I feel for them.

Right, what is not good when racing with power? A failing power meter! That's right, but not just any type of failure, oh no, an intermittent failure.... Hoorah I thought. I don't know if the fault was my Garmin or the BRAND NEW stages meter. I have tested it post race so I think it was just a "moment" it was having. Anyway it did not matter too much, I was locked into the required effort level and when the numbers do flash up, just to tease me, I was spot on.

Back to the red monkey bull idiot zone. And here comes Benjamin. His name on his number belt, bright orange compression socks. He launches into the 10km TT section like a mad man. Bye bye Ben, as he flies off ahead of me. Sadly I had to take a quick hop off the bike 5kms into the section to massage by hot feet, they were a bit too much to handle without intervention. Even more sad, no little monkey friends came to see me. 2 mins lost but what can you do. I see Kristy again, thankfully she has pulled further ahead of me. If that had not been the case I would have seriously worried about my lack of telemetric information. I see Joey again, she has lost about 10mins to me on one lap which is just about right for her to have a good ride, her bike remains in one bit and all good.

Coming back into town now, about 20kms out, hey its Benjamin! How you going mate, wow you look like shit! The red bull shit monkey idiot death zone has claimed another victim.

Into transition and I am feeling awesome. Legs feel great, I am only cooked to a medium rare and all is shaping up for a solid run.

 

The Run

 

On one of my visits to the steam room, I spent some time talking to a water polo player who was also cooking himself at MSAC.  We had a discussion about visualization and how useful it can be.  So, I AM A GAZELLE. I AM.  Out onto the run in real antelope fashion.

I cannot believe it, I am starting my run and everything is great, I clock a 5:15 for my first km and feel awesome.  I ease off a bit as I want to be sure to be in good shape by the end of the run to attempt an almost inconceivable 10km in 60 mins, I know, outrageous!!  I get to the first aid station and they have a DJ and it is pumping, I stop for a quick dance and the volunteers go mental. I am having such a good time it is ridiculous. I get to about 5km and I am still feeling brilliant.  This is unbelievable, I look to be on target to replicate my “Perfect race” from 2012 in South Africa.  I am even handling the heat ok by dumping water on myself whenever possible.  My fluid balance is good. All going well.  It is about 6 km into the run now and I start to see the first signs of how the day is going for most people.  The cyclists coming back in are in bits, hanging off their bikes, looking seriously heat stressed.  I am heading towards the part of the course me and Jo recc’d a few days earlier.  It has no shade, very, very exposed.  But I am expecting this so am okay.  Stay wet, stay cool.  8km, I am getting hot now, yeah baby, real hot.  No shade, no wind but I am okay.  I have confidence in my heat acclimatization plan and keep going, all remains well.  But then I see him, he is standing at the entrance to the part of the course that goes around a sports stadium carpark, he looks happy and he has a straw.  It is Satan himself.  Every runner that goes past him, he is dipping his straw in and sipping at their soul!  This section, which acquired many names during the day, but let’s call it Hell’s Kitchen, is a path that winds around a carpark.  It is about 1.5km of doubling back on yourself in an oven.  The heat is just off the chart in here and getting hotter.  But I don’t care I am all good and firing on all cylinders.  I run past Satan and he like totally misses me with his straw, no soul for you Mate, not today!

 

I am out of Hell’s Kitchen and heading back to town, trooping away, smile on my face.  My pace is dropping but I don’t really care, I am shaping up to destroy the last 10km so I am prepared to live with it.  As I come back into town I see Joey and she is flying, I shout at her, “Pacing will be to key to this” she says okay, she looks in great shape, “winning form” one might even say.  Back to aid station one, quick stop, quick dance and away we go.  One great thing the organizers did for the race to help heat management was to put ‘plunge tanks’ at each aid station, about 1.5m wide round tanks about 1m tall.  They had buckets you could use to douse yourself with water.  I have no doubt that without these, some would not have made it.  I approach aid station 2 again, about 12km in. 
As I approach the tank I see a red blur pass me.  This guy full on bombs into the tank!!!!  Stands up, jumps out and keeps going.  “Well he is in a bit of a hurry” I say to the other bemused people standing around.  Turns out he is the winner of the 25-29 age group.  You can’t beat young and stupid sometimes!  So my average is down to about 6:15 per km now but that is okay, remember last 10km is the key.  Back out towards Hell’s Kitchen.  We are now entering crazy hot levels.  There he is, all smiles, Satan again.  This time he has two straws, and while I dodge him on the way into the carpark, I can feel a bit of my soul taken away on the way out.  Wow I am hot, even my fake boobs made of icy sponges are not helping anymore, even the ice I am throwing into my race suit is only lasting minutes and offering no relief.  Back towards town, hotter now, if that was all possible. 

 

At the 20km mark, normal service is resumed in the Coombe household.  Jo catches me and goes ahead.  We have a little chat, she tells me she thinks she is in first, but does now know by how much.  “I always believed in you” I say.  She says “my legs are totaled now” and as if to prove it she then takes off and flies into the distance.  It is at this point I realize that I am now in “Just finish” mode.  I am so, so cooked.  My heat levels are such that shit just isn’t working anymore, my legs don’t work, my hands don’t work, can’t feel my toes, my shins feel hot.  Wow.  But you know what…….so fucking what!  I am still smiling, laughing with the crowd but mostly walking now.  I try all sorts of run/walk combinations to see if I can get my shit together again. 1/1, 3/2, 1/4, 3/1 all sorts but really to no avail.  I am now out of the “hurt locker” and into the locker that you get into then someone else beats with a baseball bat.  I am a bit sad as I had hoped to do this entire race in the “comfy locker”.

Back to aid station 2, quick stop, quick dance, although now my doof doof bounces are a little less energetic.

Back out to Hell’s Kitchen, this time the devil takes a good sip with both straws (I must say, he looked like he needed it, the poor chap was looking a bit overheated), I am heading downhill fast, the only thing that keeps me vertical is the thought that Joey is on the verge of fulfilling a dream and powering along, the sight of my MTC team mates and the thought of disappointing the magic dream monkey who had been so kind to me on the bike leg.  I then see Brendan Cullen again, the mad 7 IM this year guy!  I saw him on the first lap and gave him a high five, second lap it was a hand shake, it is now a full blown hug, on lap four it turns into a stop, hug and a kiss on the forehead……thank god it was only four laps!!

I am through 30km now, I have started to blow up like a balloon. My fingers are so fat I cannot bend them, classic heat distress, fluid related issue.  But I know this so don’t panic and take on some salt.  Aid station 2 and it is party time, my last time past them and I am going off!!  The DJ is on the table, everyone is dancing, he bids me farewell with a “you one crazy man 767”.  Heading back to Hell’s Kitchen.  My sausage fingers have started to sort themselves out but I dread the heat again, will Satan take too much this time? Will I succumb to the heat like some many other “real athletes” already have?  So I hatch a plan. It is a cunning plan.  I approach Hell’s Kitchen, and there he is.  But something is wrong.  Satan is collapsed in the shade, I walk up to him, “Hey you horny bastard, I want my soul back, you have tried and you have failed to beat me, so cough up fat boy!!” “Okay, okay he says, you can have it back, it was giving me gas anyway. You Iron people are idiots, I am never doing this again!” This is just as well as my cunning plan had involved kicking him the nuts and running away.  Although the kicking and running parts of that plan were most likely beyond me at this point.  With a smile on my face once more, I shuffle the last 6km to the finish line.  I have never ever been that excited to cross a line, not only that but Joey is there to welcome me home, I think I won she says, of course you did I say.  On a hard day, the tough people win.

 

All in all It was just ace and I picked up a few key bits of knowledge.

 

1.    Understand the race you will be in, I have no doubt if I had not done the steam room thing before I left I would not have finished.  My body does not cope well with heat (look up surface area to volume ratio on Google).  The physiological changes I managed with that no doubt saved me from another DNF….or much worse.

2.    Race day execution beats obsessive training.

3.    Monkeys are nice

4.    No matter how big or how scary the devil (or your challenges) may be, you can beat him (them) with determination and knowledge.  Or failing that, a good hard kick in the nuts.

5.    Don’t underestimate my wife.

6.    Duct tape and cable ties will get you to Kona.

 

 

Love to everyone, train smart, race hard but smile always.  Big Shout to my coaches Sean and JVW who constantly support me, while also laughing with me.  “With me” – Right?

 

Finally – to my lovely wife – KONA BABY!  I can enter on the day again, right?