5/11 AG, 22/46 women, 106/228 OA

I knew today was going to be a tough day, especially on the bike. And I knew that swimming was my strong suit but there was no point in trying to go for a PB on the swim, given what I knew I would have to face in a few hours' time. So I cruised and expended basically no energy. Given my low effort levels, I was still surprised at how well I did. Everyone swam longer than the 3.8km because you couldn't see the buoys ahead of you. Not that it wasn't marked well - there were bright orange buoys every 50m but with the swells you were lucky if you saw a buoy once every 3rd or 4th sighting. But I cruised and got out of the swim as if I'd barely done anything at all.

Nothing, given the conditions I did perfectly. Not get punched in the eye, though. That'd be nice.

You grab your swim-to-bike gear bag, run up a ramp to a bridge over the street and run back down and then go into your respective changing tents. One of the volunteers in the tent was a friend of mine so she screamed and yelled and jumped up and down with glee when she saw me, then proceeded to very efficiently dress me. I was packed, in cycling gear and ready to begin my adventure.

Nothing. I did almost forget to put on my cycling shorts but realized I was pantless before I walked out of the tent!!

10/11 AG, 40/46 women, 217/228 OA

I stayed controlled in the rollers despite feeling awesome. I didn't want to be one of those racers that bombed it on the bike because they "felt awesome" and then paid for it on the run. So I stayed controlled, and was even terrified to push it too much when I had a beautiful tailwind down from Hawea Flat to Cromwell. I averaged around 32km/hr with the mini rollers, but mainly tailwind. HR was in zone 1, but I knew I'd have my work cut out for me in the last 70km with the headwind coming my way. That was one good thing about knowing the course. A lot of people expected a headwind when they would turn around from their tailwind, but a lot of them didn't know just how potent this headwind could be. And today was the most brutal day I have ever seen. So they smashed down the tailwind, and cried on the way back up. It was indeed brutal. I stayed tucked into aero for hours, crawling at 18km/hr in high zone 2/low zone 3 with a headwind of 70km/hr. I stayed hydrated, I stayed on top of my nutrition, and I spent the hours talking to myself and repeating sentences in my head. For 10' I would repeat "The road is short The road is short The road is short The road is short", then for the next 10' I would say "Pain is temporary, glory is forever", or "The chip seal is flying under my wheels". Of course, it wasn't flying underneath my wheels, I was rolling over each and every rock and could feel it. I saw men break down and cry here, not believing they had 70km of slow pain to endure. Crosswinds were whipping everyone about, and most didn't know how to handle it.

Nothing. I'd broken down and passed out from dehydration and misery on a training ride on the course a couple weeks back because of the wind, the heat, and the total lack of civilization along this long stretch of road. This time, even though the winds were 100x worse than the previous times (which were "only" 40-50km/hr), I was prepared, I had aid stations to keep me hydrated and I just got into my zone and blocked out the sound of the wind howling and I plodded on. I don't think there's such a thing as going "too easy" on the bike portion of an iron-distance race such as this... I could have easily gotten into zone 2 for the tailwind portion and average mid 40s km avg, but I knew the heart would have its work cut out for it in zone 3 on the way back. It wasn't worth it for that extra speed. I wouldn't do anything differently. I know bike is still my weakness, but at least I played this smart and set myself up for an awesome marathon.

In the last 400m of the bike course, as you head into transition, it is alongside the lakefront. The winds were so severe coming off the lake that sand AND ROCKS were being flown into the road and our bikes were slanted sideways. The air was filled with sand flying. I'll never forget that image. But I got off the bike, racked it, grabbed my bike-to-run bag and got into the change tents. 3 other women were in there, complaining of the bike (as the wind battered our tent roof). But I ignored them, smiled, and put on my running shoes, my favourite run tee and shorts and got to my favourite portion of a triathlon: the run.

Nothing.

4/11 AG, 19/46 women, 119/228 OA.

My first half marathon was 2:15:25 (6/12 AG, 23/46 Women, 148/228 OA), and my second half marathon was 2:22:24 (4/12 AG, 19/46 Women, 120/228 OA). This means I can seriously hold my own on the swim and on the run, and seriously improved in standing as the marathon progressed. But let me describe how the marathon went.
I got onto the course and the first thing I had to do was tighten my cap on my head so that the wind wouldn't blow it away. The second thing I did was take 2 painkillers (why not?) and drink water from the course. Every single cup of water had dirt floating in it because the winds were carrying everything everywhere. It was going to be a GOOD run, I could tell. And so I set off onto the course. I knew the run course backwards and forwards, too. It's uphill for the first 1.5k, then back downhill to reach the paths by the water. We stay on gravel paths, then single track for the next 13 or so km. The wind was so strong that you were literally stopped in your tracks at times. But I love running and so I continued without a care in the world. At the first aid station, km 3, I took in a gel with caffeine. Let me preface this by saying that I never consume caffeine so when I do I get seriously "in the zone". My cadence was high, my effort was low, and nothing ached. I felt perfect, and just had to make sure that I kept cool and drank enough to avoid sidestitch issues. At each aid station I would sponge my neck, my arms and face, then drink water and sip on the fuel belt bottle I carried throughout the run (which had a concentrated strictly electrolyte drink in it, no calories). I peed once the first time around. I got into my zone and slowly started to pass people that were stronger bikers (or stupider/poorly-paced iron-distance racers). I took a gel with caffeine every hour, and just focused. The single track is small ups and downs, then we head onto the road for a steep uphill, then back onto gravel paths for a gentle long downhill, then back on road for another hill, through a park, down again, up again... you get the gist. Up, down, nothing dramatic... headwind, tailwind. The course is gorgeous, most on isolated single track and gravel paths by the water, and some along house-lined streets with Wanaka residents spending the day cheering athletes on. The run back into town is with a strong tailwind and a gentle downhill. The first loop of the run felt amazing, would I totally implode in the second loop?
Well, I took another 2 painkillers (again, why not?) and headed back out, this time with a white wristband to prove I'd run one loop of the course. I headed back out, this time feeling a minor sidestitch coming on. I cured it quickly by running tall, drinking enough water, sipping on electrolyte and taking in a 3rd gel in the 3rd hour. Also caffeinated. At this point I knew I couldn't take any more gels or caffeine. I could taste the caffeine sliding down my throat and didn't like it. But I was happy to be running and now that I was on the 2nd lap of the run course and still going strong, the run became a minefield of athletes that had blown up. I passed dozens of people (there are only 228 doing the entire iron-distance) on the 2nd lap, I was just picking them off. Some were barely running, many were run-walking, and some were just flat-out walking. I kept the cadence high, I kept the focus laser sharp and just ran. The HR was still very low, but such is the nature of the beast - the heart and the body are tired. I kept going at an easy cruisey "go forever" pace until the 32k mark. With 10k to go, I tried to pick off as many people as possible. I got delirious comments from fellow athletes, such as: "HOW do you have so much energy?" and "You're making this look ridiculously easy". Honestly, the marathon wasn't that challenging. I knew where I was at all times on the course, and I knew where I had to go, so I just went. Yes, the body was getting tired but I didn't feel like shit, I had zero GI issues, and nothing really ached. So in the last 10k, I sped up and drank coke and water. I flew by people. The last 1.5k were beautiful, cruising with the tailwind, absolutely amazing crowds on the main street in Wanaka. When I saw the finish chute, and saw my time I was so proud of myself for the achievement. I was grinning, absolutely overwhelmed, laughing and crying a little too.

Nothing, this run was perfectly executed. It was PERFECT. The one thing I could improve upon is knowing my run limits over such a long distance. I'd never run farther than 30km, and I though the 30km mark was some magic number where things start falling apart bodily. Nah, after the 30km there's just 12 more km and it's pretty much the same thing. But I left pretty much everything on the course.

My friends were cheering for me at the finish line, loud as all hell and cheering like mad. I ate watermelon, got weighed (I did not fluctuate one kilogram, can I say that I hydrated this PERFECTLY), grabbed a cookie and a banana and put my number down to get a massage. I chatted with a couple guys, 3 that were part of a team, and one guy that I had passed on the run course. I was feeling alright, as long as I got some salty food in me STAT. I finally got my massage (amazing massage therapist, I'm getting a full-on massage from her later this week), grabbed a cupful of salty soup and another cookie and walked home with my friends. They carried my bike and bags and I walked barefoot as the sun set. Yes, it was epic. Then I peed in a bush by the side of the road. Finally made it home, ate some more (I needed salt, and more salt! My flatmate's tortilla chips saved the day!!), showered and sat in the massage chair that one of my flatmates owns. Then we walked back down into town to see the last 4 competitors come in and the fireworks show. Iona, one of the commentators for the race (and assistant director to the race or some such official title), was so amped up on RedBull or something similar that she was speaking so fast that you could barely understand her. Everyone on the Challenge Wanaka team (Vics, pregnant Nicole, Iona, Alexa, Lucie, all 3 leg directors and all the volunteers) worked so hard to make this day happen. Some were pulling 23-24 hour shifts that day. We brought in the last 4 racers. All 4 were over the 17 hour limit but on a day such as today, the toughest Challenge race ever, and probably one of the toughest iron race conditions EVER, who cares about time limits? The town was screaming and cheering and absolutely amazed at what these last four athletes achieved (2 men, 2 women). Fireworks brought them home.


1-My bike strength.
2-The fact that I am a lightweight and winds crush me
3-The 70km/hr winds, gusts and general psycho weather conditions. To see how a pro fared, see pro Canadian triathlete Luke Dragstra's report of the race (http://www.lukedragstra.com/?p=126). It was brutal.
In the end, I could have pulled off a 1h to 1h30 improvement in time had conditions been better (1st pro female this year, the ever indomitable Belinda Granger was 1 hour slower than usual first pro female times on this course). In the end, today was an achievement due to the weather conditions we did have to face, not despite them. The next day, when one of the race officials spoke of the race, they said this: "When the car leading the first pro male was driving at under 20km/hr on the flats, at the speed of the top pro, we knew the age groupers were seriously suffering." My time of 14:07:13 in these conditions just adds fuel to the fire for the next big one.


This race is phenomenally organized; the people directing the race, the 3 leg directors and the organization are all superb. It's in one of the most beautiful locations on the planet. To have had this race as my first iron-distance... well, it's going to be hard to live up to and surpass my expectations now!!
Pros blogs re. race:
Courtney Ogden: http://courtneyogden.com/?p=573
Luke Dragstra: http://www.lukedragstra.com/?p=126
Jamie Whyte: http://www.triathlontribe.com/blog/post/show/id/105
Keegan Williams: http://keeganwilliams.blogspot.com/2011/01/wanaka.html
Jimmy Johnsen: http://dtrsportsmanagement.com.au/blog/?p=2657
Josh Rix: http://www.joshrix.com/newsdetails.php?year=&id=17