Busselton WA 70.3 May 2012

I had planned for Busselton 70.3 to be my first "A" race of the season, when I originally entered back in December of last year. I thought I would have plenty of time to get into reasonable shape, however the pressures of working 70 hour weeks over the last few months, have taken their toll and I went into this race not as prepared as I would have liked. The idea of it being an "A" race had slowly melted into it being a bit of fun and holiday down in Aus,  however after arriving at check in at the HK airport express, it evaporated into lets hope we can even just make it. Cathay had cancelled the overnight flight from HK to Perth that we had booked and fully paid for (apparently I should have received an email, telling me it had been re booked...but I never saw that). So after an hour and a 1/2 fight with check in staff, we ended up being re-routed onto  the midnight plane to Adelaide and then a domestic flight to Perth arriving at 2pm, followed by the  3hour drive down to Busso'...hoping we might just get there before race registration ends.

What a nightmare, my planned relaxing drive down the WA coast, building the bike,  checking in and checking out the race course,  having a nice lunch, then an afternoon snooze to prepare, had now changed into a slog just to even get to the start. After arriving in Perth tired and with weather that resembled the UK in Feb, we picked up the hire car, and started the drive down to Perth. The forecast was not looking good, it was supposed to be rainy and wet and cold tomorrow for race day...excellent! We finally made it to Busso' after 3 1/2 hours and managed to check in, by now it was starting to get dark, it was rainy and blustery down on the sea front, the ocean looked angry. I was then told I had to have my bike in the transition area before 6:30pm, no exceptions, I pleaded that we had just arrived from HK, but there was no exceptions least of all for any pom's! In a wet and windy dark car-park I put my bike together as best I could, hoping I would have enough time tomorrow morning to fix anything that didn't look right now. After grabbing some food from the supermarket and some take out fish and chips, we made off to the resort, hoping for more luck on race day.

One good thing about Perth is that it is on the same timezone as HK, so after getting a very early night, waking up at 4:30am for race day (which is not far off what I do during the week, was surprisingly easy). We made it down to the race site, thankfully although the wind and rain had calmed slightly, the sea was still very angry. I went off to prep' my bike, hoping the sea would ease over the next hour or so before the race start.

Coach Woody had had me doing a 60~90minute ride yesterday to help prepare the legs for today, but as that never happened, I went off for an extended jog, did a series of fast knee lifts and butt kick's, to try and start the blood moving. The plan for the race was to start the swim hard, find fast feet, hang on as best I could to get into the first paceline on the bike. We would take the first 10mins of the bike easy, then build to moderate for the 60km's then if all felt good, drop the hammer for the last 30km's. The plan on the run was to start easy build a rhythm...and hopefully not die to early...simple! but the reality was after a quick warm up, I felt knackered already....blimey this was going to be a long day.

I had completely missed the mandatory race briefing due to our travel issues, so on walking to the swim start, i thought it best just to check with a few people to make sure nothing critical had been missed, no nothing missed 1 loop on the swim, 2 loops on the bike, 3 loops on the run...simple.

As we got down to the start of the swim, I was in wave 3, 18~24 and 35~39 men together, that's a big group, probably the biggest of all the waves. Generally I don't like wave starts, mass starts are the more authentic aspect of triathlon, but today, i was a little upset that it wasn't just the 35~39's....the last thing I needed was more people in my way. My swim prep' had been lacking to say the least and with the way the water was moving with the wind and waves it was going to be a tough swim. I jumped in, damn it was cold and dark....this is WA...where was the crystal blue water, fishes and coral I had seen i the advertising pictures...I couldn't even see my hand. The water wasn't dirty apart from all the seaweed, it had just been so churned up by the storms, it was not an inviting start.

The pro's went off at 7am, and they were getting barraged immediately by the tide and waves. I doubled checked the course as spotting in these conditions wasn't going to be easy. A quick photo and kiss good luck from Asami, and I lined up for my start at 7:15am. It had been a long journey just to get here after the issues with Cathay, I wasn't well prepared, I dint feel that great, and the water was rough...I tried a few deep breaths, and tried to push that all to the back of mind, experience was going to count today, I had been here numerous times, just go with the flow.

Start quick, find fast feet, get out of the water ASAP. Well just as the start of the journey to Aus had been a nightmare, now the start of my race had taken the same course. The cold water got to me immediately even though I had jumped in before, my chest felt constricted, I couldn't breathe properly. The wave was large and my position wasn't the best, I was about 200m's offshore and I really couldn't breathe, I had gone out reasonably fast, and I was near the front of the wave, god 100's of people behind me, I cant breathe, the waves were crashing over me, shit I cant breathe, I cant go left, I cant go right too many swimmers, I cant stop there are 100's of people bearing down on me, where's the lifeguard...no where. This vicious spiral of thoughts continued, damn I had felt the beginnings of a panic attack before under a similar situation and conditions...I had to get to get it under control. I did a few breast stroke's, and tried to calm my breathing, I rolled onto my back to try and get more air in, however all that did was allow to me see the 100's of people coming behind me and around me now, even less chance to get out of their way, a few more breast strokes and few lighter stroke's....I managed to round the first mark, without getting jostled too badly, I was a long way down from where I normally am, and there were a lot of people around me. Spotting the next buoy was tough, and getting there was proving to be tough with the waves and tides, however at least I could breathe now...that was a plus.

Finding the course was tricky, the cold water made my goggles continually fog, and then the sun broke the clouds, and at that early morning angle of it hitting the water, I was literally blinded. God this wasn't fun....just keep going, and it will be over soon. After taking a wrong turn, and missing the 2nd buoy, I eventually turned for home, but visibility and spotting continued to be a problem. Finally I could see the exit gate, thank god, just hang on for a few more minutes. I was out of the water in 38minutes, a horrible time for me, I finished Clearwater in 29mins....my god I really was out of shape, even with the panic attack and loss of direction.

I jogged up to T1 disappointed,  not only had it not been fun, that's the first time I had actually wished a swim to be over. The swim is often one of my strongest events, and to exit where I did mid field was a little depressing. I started out on the bike and to the next problem, and this time it was all my fault...a rookie error. I hadn't set my aerobars properly, trying to put my bike together in a dark wet car park, I hadn't aligned them properly, they were not horizontal to the ground, but angling up at about 10degree's. Not much you might think, but when comfort=speed, anything that is not dialled in can cause issues. I umm'd and arr'd as to how I was going to handle this, then in a moment of inspiration, brawn took over, and i was able to muscle them down to where I needed them...we where off...the change in position although slight was a big psychological win...finally I felt comfortable.

The plan on the bike was to ride big gear, keep the cadence low 70~80rpm, and not stress my cardio system. The bike was riding well, and I was managing a steady 40kmh. Finally things started to get better, the sun managed to stay out, and the roads where drying slowly. The course took us through some amazing forests. As the sun started to warm the roads and tree's, the smells where fantastic,  I learnt after that we were riding through a forest of peppermint tree's and wow did it smell it good. I finally stopped worrying about how well or badly I was doing, but just enjoyed the ride. I had missed the paceline's, and I was riding pretty much on my own for the 1st half of the 1st loop,  it wasn't until i was approaching the turnaround that I saw what was the paceline from my wave, it was only about 3mins ahead of me....wow other people must have had crappy swims as well, i expected to be much further down. I made the turn and dropped the hammer a little, the plan had been to ride easy for 60km's and being mindful of that I wasn't in the best shape dialled it back a little, if I was going to catch them, I would do it slowly. Back out through the forest and to the end of loop 1, the winds were starting to pick up again, but the sun was still out.

Loop 2 meant riding out through all the other waves, so although I had plenty of riders to pick off, it made seeing the paceline I was after hard to spot. I started to suffer a little bit from position fatigue, not being on my tri bike a lot, the position although comfortable to begin with, wasnt after a while, just my body being out of sync being in an aero position for so long. Busso's bike course is pancake flat, so there is no rest bite from the constant output. No hills or descents to rest or change position on I focused on staying small into the wind ( the sun was directly behind me and giving me a great view of how aero I could be, by tucking my head in). Back through the forest, and the turnaround for home, i was keeping my output steady, I felt ok at the 60km mark and picked up the pace a little but not dramatically. I  managed to finish the 2nd loop in almost the exact same time as the first...not bad...i hadn't lost that much into the end of the ride.

In to T3, and the sun was fully out now, and was now getting hot. The run was a 3 loop run, along the coast of 3 equal 7km loops. It was a perfect course, dead flat, plenty of aid stations, and a nice gentle sea breeze. The plan as always was to run easy, find a rhythm and then hold it. I felt good, my legs were fine, and I was starting to pass people already. I found I was able to hold this rhythm quite comfortably, I knocked off the 1st loop, and then the 2nd, I could feel some twinge's in my thigh's as it was getting hot now. I hadn't taken any salt tablets into this race, I had expected it to be wet and cold, I was now regretting that decision. I started to work out my time, and if I could hold this speed, a sub 5 hour was possible, that would be a great result, after such a rough start.

I held pace, which is hard to do as now I was surrounded by all the other waves, some people I was passing, others passing me, as they were just starting their runs. I made the last turnaround, with 3km to go, i said to myself make it through the last aid station then go...and I did. Finishing in 4:58:30 and 19th in my age group.

Splits:

Split Name Race Time Leg Time Time of Day Pos Cat Pos Gen Pos Dist Done Dist To Go Pace Swim 00:38:36 00:38:36 07:53:36 392 47 321 1.9 111.2 20:19 T1 00:41:07 00:02:31 07:56:07 245 25 195 1.9 111.2   Cycle 45km 01:55:42 01:14:35 09:10:42 273 35 257 46.9 66.2 36.2 Cycle 03:11:52 02:30:45 10:26:52 260 35 243 92 21.1 17.9 T2 03:14:48 00:02:56 10:29:48 760 83 572 92 21.1   Run 7.0km 03:47:16 00:32:27 11:02:16 254 35 219 99 14 4:38 Run 14.0km 04:22:12 00:34:55 11:37:12 200 25 173 106 7.1 4:59 Run 21.0km 04:57:57 00:35:44 12:12:57 183 22 154 113 0.1 5:06 Run 04:58:30 01:43:41 12:13:30 194 24 164 113.1   4:54

Sabah Adventure Race, Borneo.

Neil and I had been talking about doing an adventure race together for a long time, we had looked at races of various length in various countries, but they were all either too long, too hard, or too far away. Then Neil happened to learn of this 3 day, 160km team race through the jungles of Borneo, of which the large majority consisted of running and mountain biking, we new instantly this was the one for us. Although no strangers to triathlons, marathons and ultra-distance events, neither of us, had done a team, multi discipline day race before, and most importantly a race that involved map reading! 

After weeks of planning the type of gear we would need, how to read a map and compass, through to the tactics we would use on the various stages, we were in Borneo. We landed late on the Wednesday night into Kota Kinabalu, and checked into the fairly crappy pre-race hotel. After a morning of gear / bike checking and buying of last minute rations, we were on the bus into the wild jungle's of Borneo. Thoughts passed us of the potential wildlife (orangutan's) we might see, to the mud and mountains we would encounter on this race. On the way up to the race sight we got our first experience of Borneo rain, at about 3pm everyday the heavens literally drop onto the jungle, it was an eye popping experience of what might come over the next few days.


We disembarked at the TVRC race site in Tambunan, just east of Mount Kinabalu, where we met our host family, and got the race briefing and maps for the following day! It was relatively late to bed that night as we packed, and triple checked our gear for the following morning. It was going to be a 7am start, which meant we had to be up at 5:15am, to leave the host family's house at 6am, we were both nervous, but excited to get racing.

Day 1..nice and clean.

Day 1
As we had been told at the race briefing the night before, Day 1 consisted of a 33km mountain run,  a 30km MTBike, then a tubing section and then a 7km run for home, (40km's of running on day1...a pretty aggressive start!). Our opening plan went very simply Rule 1. Stay alive. Rule 2. Stay friends. Rule 3. Don't come last!


The gun went off promptly at 7am,  150 adventure racers, another 85 ultra runners into the wilds of Borneo we went! We settled into a fairly easy pace, the aim was to be able to hold a continuous conversation whilst running, that should make sure we didn't get too excited too early. 


Our first drama came at about the 10km mark, one of the teams ahead of us, had taken a wrong turn, and as we pulled up behind them to see if it was actually the right way or not (never trust the team in front of you, they might be lost too), we just heard someone shout "Beehive" and then guttural screams of shear panic as one poor lady was getting stung by a swarm of angry bee's....so as you would expect  2 fully grown Adventure racers who push Bloomberg keys for a living, we employed Rule 1 and ran like hell! After we had outrun the screams, we figured we were clear, and returned to our conversational pace and focused on whittling down this 33km mountain run. 


The track's we were navigating slowly turned into the jungle proper, and we started to get our first taste of Borneo mud. This isn't mud like you get at the bottom of your garden, that's a bit of a pain, the mud in Borneo, is like ankle snapping slippery, yet manages to have an amazingly disproportionate weight to it, 1 inch ='s about 5kg's! We gingerly made our way down some very steep slopes, trying to make sure we stayed upright, we navigated through a lot of rubber plantations, and just so you know, un-processed rubber smells like fetid toilets...lovely! We made it onto the fire-road to checkpoint 4 (CP4), and were looking forward to picking up our bikes at (CP5). We had been doing well on the run (read better than we thought), we were in 10th place, and we managed to pick off a couple more teams on the fire road, and hot-footed into CP5 in 8th place.....Jeaz we hadn't even got onto our best discipline yet, which was MTBiking, our spirits were high, and we did the one thing that we shouldn't...we started to dream, "if we could do this, and do that, maybe a top 5 was possible, if we nailed the last 7km's maybe a top 3..if...if...if..." We left CP5 on a high,  with boundless energy...and a clear lack of attention...which is exactly where it all went wrong!


Our map reading skills going into the race, were not great, ok lets be fair, they were bloody non-existent, our complete amount of map reading preparation, had been to read 1 book, and the compass instructions! No practical experience, and most importantly no appreciation for the speeds you travel at during a race. For the run we kept thinking the distances on the map were wrong, clearly we thought we ran faster than we actually were capable of, an A typical conversation was like this, "ok it looks like about 2km on the map, ok so about 10mins" but the reality (and oh I know reality now) was you are never as fast on a mountain run, as you are on the pavement, so our 10mins was more like 15minutes...but that then was generally followed by"....oh well the map must be wrong..."


As we left CP5 and tore off on our bikes, the amazing feeling of getting off our feet after nearly a marathon of very hilly kilometer's, the sudden feeling of  the bike taking the weight of the 3litres of water, plus 1st aid kit, plus tools, plus food rather than my poor back! We were going down a decently inclined fire road, we were hitting 35kmh, the apparent wind was cooling us down...yeah we were ripping and a possible top 5 was all we could dream about!....oh what rookies...we were!!!


Our first turn was about 2km after CP5...and we hooned straight past it, our cursory conversations consisted of "we should hit it soon", kept going 6km's out, 7km's out, 8km's out...a left came up, that must be it, we nailed it and kept on cranking! 12km's out and road's impossibly started to fit the map, another left turn, up a cripplingly steep hill....this didn't start to feel right and the thoughts started to turn over...we must be wrong, but NO we were on the right road...the tussle of not knowing if we were right or wrong, but not wanting to admit if we had gone wrong, as the journey back was a long one was almost too much to bear. We asked a couple of locals, who gave us big grins' and the thumbs up, yeah we must be right...but it still didn't feel right, then we asked another local...and when he pointed to a section of the map a long way away from where we thought we were, the dark and side splitting realisation set in, not only had we screwed up, we had screwed up huge. Our dream's and hope's, thrown into the gutter and stamped on, how could we be so stupid, it was a rookie error par excellence, I can speak for both of us, when I say it was a moment neither of us will ever forget, or wish to repeat.


As we turned around and started the journey back to where we should have gone wrong, the math of how much time we had lost started to suck energy, spirit, concentration, hope from us. God how could we be so stupid, 2+ hours lost, countless places, too much energy to recoup. As we made our way back, we picked up other bikers, who had also missed the left turn, our miss fortune was their good fortune as we corrected them. As we ground our way up to the left we should have taken (remember it was all down hill the other way..now it was all uphill), swearing and facing down the demons of such poor judgement, the heaven's opened. It could have been a scene from a movie...2 intrepid travellers find miss fortune after great excitement, the music changes and the heavens opened...we may as well have been standing under a hose it was so heavy...in retrospect it was comical, but at the time it was agonising. 


We made the correct left turn, and started up another impossibly steep hill, this was a Borneo mud hill, that if we had taken dry would have been difficult, but do-able, now it was down right dangerous, and we had to come down it as well. The hill to CP6, was never ending, the mud got deeper, the hill got steeper, I reckon at its peak we were on a 40% incline, pushing all the way. We made the summit, signed in, we had fallen to 34th! We made the descent, through axle high clay mud, we were absolutely covered in it from head to foot. 

We descended back to TVRC, were we dumped the bike's and hopped into the tubes. a 30minute tubing ride in the sun, would have been glorious, now we were now soaked after the rain it was cloudy we were getting cold, and sitting in a tube expending no real energy, apart from not trying to flip over. Leg muscle's started to seize, and the fun of the day was now wearing thin. 

















These 3 pictures accurately show the anguish and torture of the tubing section.




















I especially love this one...its the "Oh sh*******t moment...just before it really does hit the fan!"











"hitting the fan...."

We rejoined after the tubing section, and started the wet slog for home, only 7km's, but it felt like it was going to be a long 7km's. We started to chat about the days adventures, of where we had gone wrong and what we had done right, we started to plan for tomorrow and look forward to the rest of the race, our spirits started to lift, the sun came out, and we knew tomorrow would be a very different day, thankful, that we were still alive, still friends, and were not last!

End of Day 1...laughter and smiles after a trying day!

Day 2.

After completing nearly a marathon on day 1, day 2 was all about the bike.  It was to be a 3hour bike, 1 1/2 hour duathlon (1 bike between 2) then a 3 hour bike, this was our chance for redemption, the bike is our best discipline, and we were so eager to right the wrongs of yesterday. The race started at 7am again, so after a very early breakfast, a decent amount of time inspecting feet, and prepping gear, we were ready. It was a short run around the TVRC car park, across the river, and onto our bikes. If on day 1 we were a bit lax about the map reading, we were now map nazi's, we had the odometers on the bike dialed. There would be no wrong turns today!

We tore off on the bikes, mud splattering, rubber shredding, today we would rule. If Day 1 had been a fairly slow start, Day 2 we were gunning it, from about 3km's in, I was leading the race with a train of riders behind me, we were hammering at 35kmh on flat fire road, that's fast, and hard to keep up for too long. We managed to dial things back, as we were close to making another major mistake, and going out too hard, we had 6~7 hours ahead of us (after 10 hours yesterday)...we had to keep a check our levels of output, as Borneo is hot and humid, and people had troubles yesterday with the heat, and today was a scorcher!

Unbelievably we were back on the road, we had gone down incorrectly yesterday, we hit the left turn (after a little indecision) up the cripplingly steep hill, twice in 2 days...arghh this was gonna' hurt. It became clear very quickly our fatigue levels were higher then our competition after yesterdays extra efforts. After any cripplingly steep hill, you have to go down, and at the bottom of this hill was a 500m stream / river we had to navigate through with the bike's. Hauling our bike's over tree's and bamboo strewn across the river up to our chests at time's, we made it into CP3, where someone had already collapsed with heat exhaustion. Out and back on the road, up the next unbelievably steep hill, this time it was tarmac, but was so steep, it was virtually impossible to ride! We pushed and sweated our way to the duathlon section. 

"Foot management" a fairly unexciting, but nonetheless critical subject when talking about adventure racing. It had been a constant worry going into this race (especially for me, anyone who knows my Maclehose experience, knows of my blister and toenail issue's). It had been a particular worry for this race as I knew we would be running, walking, biking, everything in sodden shoes. Miraculously my feet had stood up very well on Day 1, bar a small blister, they went into day 2, in good shape, however after the stream, and heat of the morning of day 2, by the time we started to run on the duathlon, my feet started to hurt from blisters and general all over bruising. Add to that crushing heat, hills, and pushing a bike through think jungle, it was becoming all a bit too much. At various points over the weekend, there would be times when I was strong, and Neil struggling, and viceversa, this was my time to suffer, I couldn't find a rhythm, I couldn't find the source it was just all too much hard work. And then to add further drama to it, by the time we got back to picking up the spare bike, where I had left my bike shoes and gloves on the spare bike to dry out in the sun,  they were literally caked in fly's...it was horrible, not a good hour that one!

Back onto the bike for the slog for home, thankfully we had some very fast downhills to give us a rest bite, before we hit the hardest hill of the day. Half way through the duathlon, right when i was at my lowest, I was told the story of 'hamburger hill' and how difficult it was...well it was no lie. It was probably about midday at this point, so the heat of the day, both Neil and I were knackered, and we come across this hamburger hill that is not only impossibly steep, it is pure mud...Borneo mud, ankle snapping mud. There was no other way for it, but to put the bikes on our backs and go for it. A fairly comical situation ensued, there were a few other guys negotiating this hill, and quite frankly everyone was massively struggling. I had managed to find a bit of a rhythm, and by that I mean I was simply able to put about 3 or 4 steps together in sequence before I collapsed in the mud. After a few more efforts there I was in the middle of the mud slide and I had managed to put about 5 steps together, it was such an impressive feet,  literally everyone on the slide stopped to watch me, cheers of "go on mate" were thrown out there just in time for me to loose my footing, I had no free hands, as I as holding the handlebars and bike frame on my back, the hill was so steep that my forehead was literally about 10cm's from the ground..(think about that, it was about a 50%gradient), the bloke next to me (Andrew from Aus, aka calfman, for his obscenely large calf muscle's) simply says "fall fore ward mate", falling backwards would have brought broken bones, broken bikes, and quite frankly an airlift out....but "fall fore ward" was all I needed to hear for me to go the 10cm's required and forehead first into the mud, no hands, no balance...laughter all round, and requests for me to do it again whilst people got there camera out..that was about the lowest point of the day.

We made it to CP6, and then we made for home, battered, bruised, and needing a rest. The same guys we were tussling with on hamburger hill had for some reason stopped on the fire road for home, blood was in the air, it was our time to take a few places back. We started to drop the hammer as best we could, but just as I struggled earlier in the day, now it was Neil's turn, 2 days worth of expenditure had taken its toll. We had to dial back the heat, it was hard to let them past, but with a 3rd day to go rule 1 and 2  came into effect. We came across the line 14th on the day, hopefully we had pulled back a few more spots, but not quite as good as we had hoped to redeem ourselves.

Day 3

We had the luxury of having an 8am start for our final day, it was going to be a short day, only 4 hours! A 1 hour mountain run, followed by a 3 hour orienteering section on bikes. By the start of the 3rd day, my feet were pretty sore, and running was painful, I had prepared my feet as  best I could, and hoped they could hang on for a few more hours. Keeping them dry was the key! Oh no I forgot for a moment this was Borneo, We managed about 7minutes, before we were thigh deep in a river, oh well...only a few hours to go now.

It was our turn for a little luck (it was about time), after navigating in the front 1/3 of the pack on the mountain run, somehow the front runners managed to take a wrong turn. We navigated through after them, and managed to hold the correct course, Neil found a turn of speed into the last few km's and was able to pull me through, we legged it into CP2, in 2nd place, just the lead we needed to help us on the orienteering section.

Brains not brawn. Arriving in CP 2, we picked up the orienteering maps, we had to find 12 markers out of 25, any 12, it was our choice. I mapped a quick route of what looked to be the most efficient, and with the less hills. We took the time to write down each turn its distance, and any note able landmark's. We trained our attention on the map and the odometers, and started to knock off the marker's. A big moment of relief set in, when after correctly navigating to marker 1, and then 2, number 3, had been removed by the local kids (apparently), but by then we were confident we had our distances and head's straight.

After wasting a little time, trying to add another marker to cover for the one we couldn't find, which we ended up abandoning after 20minutes anyway (too long), we knocked off the 12th marker, and headed for home. It was a straight shot of about 6km's from the last marker to TVRC and home. We took turns on the front and became a well oiled freight train of specialized stumpjumpers (our bike's), we hammered out the flats at 40kmh...not bad for MTBikes, and 2 knackered blokes. 

We crossed the line at 11:55am, any minute after 12:00pm was a penalty (the rules of orienteering). We were done!

We had come 17th. not a bad effort for our first race.

Apart from the bee's, fly's and dog's we had seen no other wildlife, the thoughts of seeing an orangutan never materalised, shame as it would have been a very cool experience. We had managed to stick to the plan, and returned alive, great friends and 17th (not last).

This will be the first of hopefully, many more successful team adventure races' for Team Shogenai.

A few more photo's........