Warren Hawke
Warren Hawke's - Iron Man 70.3 page
Fundraising for Maggie's Centres
Story
Match Report!!
Event - Antwerp Iron Man 70.3 - 1.2 mile swim - 56 mile bike - 13.1 mile run
Venue – (1252 mile round trip by car and Chunnel)
Support team – Lynn (my better half) and Leni (7.5 months old, she contributed a smile on each lap of the run but not much else!) What a support team, they missed me crossing the finishing line because one of them needed a nappy changed; I’ll let you guess which one.
Weather – It was atrocious! Heavy rain for the first 4 hours then just as the sun cream had been washed off the sun broke through and baked us.
What an experience!
Sunday morning, 2nd August 2009, 1299 neoprene clad nutters and me standing by the side of a big dirty lake in the wind and pouring rain, adrenaline pumping and heart rates way above the race target already. Arms, legs and faces are shivering with a mixture of the biting cold and pre match nerves. I notice Dave and Shaun (familiar faces from breakfast at the Hotel): we’re making idle chit chat about expected times, us Brits playing down our chances due to the weather and various injuries during training, when I hear a couple of Yanks boasting that this is their first event but they fully expect to be in the top 10 (there were 75 pros in the event and they started in the first wave 11 minutes before us: best of luck, Septic Tanks!)
There were 6 waves of starts 3 minutes apart, appointed according to age, which basically meant we swam over the top of the slower 30-34 year olds and the faster 40-44 years olds swam over the top of us. I have the war wounds to prove this.
Looking through the results it appears that approx 70 people didn’t even complete the swim: it was carnage.
The Swim - 1.2 miles = 1 elbow and 1 flailing fist to the face, 3 scratches and 1 litre of lake water consumed
Expected time 40 mins – actual 32.49 seconds = a very good start!!
Out of the water and trudging into transition, 1300 bikes and trying to find mine was a challenge in itself. At this stage I was drier than my bike and change of clothes; nevertheless I fought myself out of the wet suit and got ready for the bike.
I didn’t think it was possible to cycle 56 miles into a head wind, but this was the case I’m sure! The first 18 of 56 miles were into the driving wind and rain, so the only consolation in my head was that on the return journey I’d have a tailwind; however this wasn’t the case, as the wind machine seemed to have turned 180 degrees just as I reached the furthest point of the course.
The war wounds continued to mount when I fell off the bike: someone decided to do an emergency stop at a railway line, and I had no alternative but to hit them hard and join them in a tangle of arms and legs sprawled over the train tracks. Needless to say after a few deep breaths we wished each other luck for the rest of the race.
During the crash my nutrition plans were just like my back (reduced to tatters), as luckily (or unluckily) enough when I landed on the ground 2 of my carbohydrate gel sachets cushioned my fall then burst, leaving me short for the rest of the race!
Crash aside, I felt great for the first half of the ride, but at mile 40 I started to feel the pace: as usual my competitive nature had made me go too fast and now I was struggling. I decided to take my foot off the gas and make sure I got home with some reserves of energy left in the tank. I assumed the Mary Poppins riding position and tootled home.
The Bike – 56 miles – bruised and cheese grated shoulder, sticky back and ass
Expected time 3 hrs – actual 2 hrs 47 minutes 30 seconds = 2 down, 2 better than expected times, very happy!!
Starting the run is one of the weirdest feelings you can ever experience, as your thigh muscles still think you’re on the bike. The only comparison I can think of for the first mile is trying to tow a caravan with your laces tied together. By now the rain had subsided and we were left with the most perfect weather: for sitting in a beer garden or lazing on the beach, that is. However, the removing of the wetsuit and 3 hour monsoon had scrubbed any traces of sun cream off hours ago, so we started to fry.
But nothing fazed me as at this stage: I felt great and only had my strongest event left. 13.1 miles is usually a breeze for me: last year I did 1 hour 29 minute in the half marathon and I’m always confident I can achieve a 1 hour 45 half marathon with very little training.
Ha: how wrong I was! I once read a quote that “an Ironman will chew you up and spit you out”. Never a truer word has been said. I had quite comfortably and complacently switched on my auto pilot and started plodding away, but with only 1 out of 3 laps complete my knee was in agony. 4 weeks prior to the event I felt similar pains during some training sessions so decided to cut all running until the event. These severe shooting pains up the centre of my left knee left me certain that walking was the only way I was going to finish.
Luckily two event medics cycled up to me 10 minutes into my walk and asked if I would like some painkillers: I gratefully accepted. Then, surreally, a fat fairy godfather in the form of a fellow athlete in a bumble bee vest approached me, offering me magic pills (don’t worry, it was only painkillers, this was , not .) 45 minutes, 2 paracetamol and 3 Voltarol later (slightly above the recommended dosage!) I was able to save some credibility by running the last 4 miles to the finish line.
The Run – 13.1 miles – sunburn and probable knee operation required
Expected time 1.45 – actual 2 hrs 16 minutes 33 seconds = absolutely gutted, had to walk for 1 hour!!
In summary
Target – under 7 hours (in my own head I wanted under 6 hours) – actual 5 hours 41 minutes
701st place
It was one of the most brutal experiences of my life – but now I am half an Iron Man (maybe that makes me an Iron?), it’s time to sign up for the full distance to get the Man!!
Thanks for your support and best wishes