Duncan Hodge’s Ironman Challenge

Ironman France, Nice 2008 or trying to look good when you’re covered in sweat, snot and factor 40 suncream.

So this was it, 6 months of training, came down to a 4am alarm call, (one of three just in case) and an industrial size bowl of porridge, bananas & honey Three visits to the toilet later and it was off to transition to pump the tyres, get into my wetsuit and generally faff for 20 minutes or so.

Swim – 2.4 miles
Predicted – 1h5m.
Actual – 1hr

The swim start was absolutely packed with 2300 people on the pebbled beach. The sun started coming up, Mike Reilly, an American race commentator who is known as the “Voice of Ironman” was whipping the crowd up as the countdown started & the music boomed – it was just Ace. As the hooter went off, we charged for the sea and went into the ‘washing machine’. It was definitely the roughest start I have been in, but I got away with an elbow in the face that knocked my goggles but didn’t dislodge them. I found some clearish water after about 6-700m and could really start to pull. A quick half-way beach turn and we were back in the water for the final leg before wobbling unsteadily out on my ‘sea legs’ to record a 60 minute swim – the day had started well

I post on a couple of Triathlon websites under the username “le mitten” (don’t ask why) and I came out of the swim, to see ‘Team le Mitten’ screaming and cheering around a huge and unflattering poster of me exiting the London Tri swim in 2005

Bike -112miles
Predicted – 6.45
Actual – 6.52

The Bike, mon Dieu…. the bike was awesome. The first 15miles or so is flat and takes you out on the Promenade des Anglais then along the Var valley. I spent this time taking on water and generally getting my heart rate steady.

The science bit:
Ironman racing is basically a trade off between what you put out in energy and what you can take in as food. You expend about 800-1000 calories per hour but can only take in about 500, so you’re always losing on the energy equation. The trick is to take in about 1 gram of pure carbohydrate per kilo of bodyweight per hour and keep your heart rate at a level where you’re burning mainly fat (of which you have an almost inexhaustible supply) dipping occasionally into your carbohydrate stores where necessary. I’d had a sports fitness test in February, which pegged my optimum heart rate at 156bpm so my task was to stay below this as much as possible. Happily, the first climb on the bike course of 10% blew that out of the equation straight away as I rocketed to 170.  It was only 500m or so in length at the steepest point so I figured I’d claw the energy back later.

After the initial steep climb, the road rose up, up and up through the stunning Provence countryside, culminating in a 15mile climb to the Col d’Ecre at 3,600ft. It was long, it was hot, and it was steep in parts, which is all I can say about it really, but the views were spectacular and there were many other people who appeared to be suffering much more than me.

Aid Stations
There were aid stations every 15miles on the bike which hand out ( in order) water – flat coke – energy drink – energy bars & gels – bananas  and these take a bit take a bit of thought to negotiate them on a bike to make sure you get everything you need without crashing. After a couple of howlers, I settled into the following sequence…dump empty energy bottle on the approach to the station. Grab first water into back pocket; grab 2nd water into front bottle cage. Grab energy drink & hold in mouth. Nab 2 powerbars into back pocket, ditto bananas. Squirt water from front cage into aero bottle on bars & dump empty bottle. Swap energy bottle from gob into front cage – speed off in cloud of dust – who said men can’t multi-task.

Aid stations French-style

From the Col d’Ecre, we swooped through the Plateau de Caussols at high speed, onwards via some impossibly picturesque villages, all of which had local folks out in force cheering everyone through, before starting the run for home.

Downhill to Nice – oh yeah baby – The 30 miles from Coursegols to Nice was practically all-downhill and it was Epic. Mountain valleys, hairpins, long open stretches, they were all there and I’m sure everyone felt like they were on the Tour de France.

Going down, the descent from Coursegols

Run 26miles
Projected – 4.45
Actual – 4.33

And so, the race really begins, first Ironman, first Marathon. Plenty of vaseline on the feet & plenty of sun cream everywhere else and it was out into the heat of the Promenade des Anglais. The course comprised four 6.5  mile loops out to the airport and back and I figured on:

Lap 1 – get the heart down to just below 140bpm and hold it
Lap2 – consolidate at 140
Lap 3 – move to 145 max if possible
Lap 4 – if I’m still here – nail it!!

At the end of each lap, you were given a wristband called a chou-chou which denoted you which lap you were on – once you had three, you were on the home stretch and could run through to the finishing chute. Chou-chous quickly became objects of great desire, and you gave and received envious looks according to your tally!

Lap 1 was good, and I got a feel for the course and the aid stations (three on the run so in effect, 6 per lap or every mile) I sucked down one energy gel & water at one aid station, followed by some flat coke & banana at the next, along with liberal dousings of water as the temperature had risen to 32°C by now.

Lap 2 – spurred on by team le Mitten, lap 2 came and went and I acquired my second chou-chou. The top turn at Race HQ was awesome with the thumping music & crowds cheering. Initially I thought my thighs were about to cramp as they actually started to tingle at this point, but then I realised that it must be the adrenaline – an extraordinary feeling

Lap 3 – it really starts to bite. The run out was hard and I resorted to singing some of my favourite training tunes to keep me going. I did manage to cheer myself up massively when I trotted alongside an American guy wearing a Las Vegas Triathlon Club t-shirt. Being a big fan of puns, I naturally asked him if their motto was ‘Nevada Give Up’ ( ka-boom tssshh) His reply of “Well, I’m trying real hard not to” convinced me that I’m wasted in this business, but I had the coveted third and final chou-chou on my wrist.

Lap 4 –  I read somewhere that the Ironman Marathon is 20 miles of hope and six of reality.  I was tired and hurting, but felt that there was just a little bit left to give. I’d done a 1:59 half marathon in training and figured that I could turn this into a 4:30 full distance so I focused inwards on every positive aspect of the training I’d done for this day and punched out for home. The time on the North Downs when it snowed unexpectedly and I couldn’t feel my feet, legs or fingers on the bike; the time I ran through Norman Park shielding my eyes from the sideways hail; every time I pushed that last 20 seconds of the interval on the tempo runs. Every single memory counted and pushed me on as my HR went through 155 and beyond, but it didn’t matter as I could see and hear the finish line.

I high fived everyone within touching distance along the finishing chute, and then saw Team le Mitten cheering me in from the far side of the finish gantry. I crossed the line in 12:46:06, and an IM crew member gave the medal to Debbie who hung it around my neck – perfect.