It seems to be a common trend that race reports (well at least the ones I read) are written at an altitude approaching 10,000m, after an annoyingly long wait (50mins) on the tarmac due to a paperwork ‘stuff-up’ I’m finally allowed to boot up the Mac and help pass time with my own account of the Noosa Triathlon and events preceding it. This 2hr flight will most likely bring about a very long post….you’ve been warned
The last few months, well precisely since August 24 have been extremely challenging. That was the date of my last injury-free run. A few days later I was diagnosed with a stress-reaction in my Tibia, then a five weeks later on an innocuous easy run I ‘overcooked’ both my calves. The recovery from this second injury has been longer and more frustrating than the first. The amount of appointments I’ve had with at various physio’s, podiatrists and myotherapists must’ve provided a decent-sized stimulus to Victoria’s healthcare sector.
It was only three days before the race that I had my first truly pain/tightness-free run since my injury woes, hardly confidence-inspiring stuff. I would go into the race with only two runs above 10ks in the last ten weeks. What gave me hope was that I was in the best swim and bike shape of my life. The latter highlighted by a second-fastest 56:57 bike split at the State OD champs two weeks before (the course was 800m short).
The Alter-G was a novel means of allowing me to return to run sooner
Our whole family made the trek up to Noosa staying at my sisters boyfriends parents flat 2ks from transition. After some brisk mornings in Melbourne it was a VERY welcome change to experience the sun and surf that Noosa provided. My only previous visit was six-years ago when I experienced a nasty bout of gastro and vomited close on 50 times in one night. It really feels like another world up in Queensland, the warmer humid climate, the lack of daylight savings (its fully light at 5am, perfect for an early riser like me) and its tanned/fit/generally-hot populace are most welcome.
The days before were dominated by my usual taper-grumps, as I mention before every key-race….I hate tapering!! Much of my spare time was spent in Hasting’s street, the people watching was gold! IM tattoos/branded-apparel, compression socks and general ‘peacocking’ was abound.
Unfortunately 48hrs before the race my taper-grumps were only heightened by the unmistakable signs of a sinus infection, a standard illness of mine. The headache, saw throat, swollen glands etc. were hardly ideal, unfortunately no amount of medication seemed to improve the symptoms.
Saturday was spent registering (a process taking over an hour with the enormous queues) and racking my bike. The transition area is one of the most impressive sights I’ve seen in triathlon, literally 5,000+ (very expensive) bikes lined up in a sea of rows. Noosa is the second largest triathlon in the world, behind only London. There were 53 waves separated by over 3hrs. The racks were so close together that it was impossible for two people to pass each other without one or both angling sideways whilst performing some hot-coals dance to avoid various shoes, visors, gamins etc lying in front of the bikes.
Mercifully I was racked in a different area with the Pro’s, other Open competitors and the ‘premium mates wave’ (whatever that was). Even here space was at a premium. After some authoritative bossing of an aforementioned ‘premium mate’ I won myself a little more room, totalling about 10cm2.
The morning of the race dawned bright (literally with the early sunrise) and early. The four alarms set on my phone were not needed as I rose at 3am and tucked into my customary (first) breakfast of a bagel (yes I eat multiple breakfasts). Ever since Boulder I’ve been obsessed with Bagels! They pack A LOT of carbs, are easy to ‘cook’ (about as far as my ‘cooking’ ability extends especially at 4.30am) and seem to sit easy in my stomach.
Transition was spent doing some more bossing of ‘premium mates,’ I managed to negotiate a few more centimeters to place my shoes and my race number on the ground.
Swim: 21.54
Fortunately it was only after the race that I found out there was a snake in the water, quite a sociable one at that. As Firstoffthebike elaborated:
The women’s race began with a scream. It came from Emma Moffat, one of the hot favourites for today’s event. The scream was justified, as it soon became apparent that a water snake had joined the girls in the line up. Once the snake went on its way, so too did the women, quickly, and in the opposite direction toward the first buoy.
The gun went-off and ensued the usual flurry of arms and legs and the reappearance of ‘larry-lactate.’ From early on a clear swim-hierarchy was enforced with three people of the front and large group of swimmers (including me) in distant pursuit. In all honesty the swim wasn’t particularly difficult, I didn’t have the ability, let alone the desire, to try and enforce the pace. I started next to Christian Wilson who is a low 11min 1kLCM swimmer and after 30s realised there was no way I could hold his draft. I excited the water in 12th, but only a handful of seconds behind 4th. By all accounts the swim was about two minutes slower than last year (unfavourable currents), so there would be no PB (as I had hoped).
Bike: 1:00.29 (58.30 according to Garmin)
The early part of the bike is always high stress, after a mishap with my shoe (the strap came out of the holder) I was away and pedaling hard, passing a few weaker cyclists in the opening few minutes.
Coming out of T1
At the 13k mark at the bottom of the ‘Garmin Hill’ I was sitting 100m behind a group of 4 cyclists with two others further ahead out of sight. I held a steady pace up the hill, which had the effect of me bleeding time (25s according to results) to the pack, it was a calculated risk as I didn’t want to go above threshold and harm my back-half of the bike. The strategy payed off and I caught and past the group in the immediate 5ks proceeding the 6min climb. Riding with a power meter has made me appreciate the impact of power-spikes on overall performance.
At the turnaround I saw I was sitting in 3rd place with gun Junior (a 15.20 5k runner) Matt Roberts and Nick Hull (who raced as a pro at Geelong earlier this year and in ITU races the year before) ahead of me. The famous descent lived up to all expectations. I had ridden it in training twice clocking speeds in the 70’s, this time with my inhibitions of personal safety blunted by adrenaline and ‘white-line fever’ I attacked the downhill like a maniac. I’ve heard six-time winner Craig Walton had managed 100km/h on the same descent, at 67kgs, I was pretty pleased with my 86.6km/h max speed (I’ll be able to tell if my mum has read this…simply by her cracking the shits at me for ‘putting my life in danger’). On a TT bike it was quite scary, one mistake an I’d be guaranteed to be providing more economic stimulus to the healthcare industry, I’m glad I wasn’t wearing white shorts!
Unfortunately for me I was caught by a group of four after my attempt….that’s the so-called 7m draft-zone for you! For the last 7k’s the pace slackened as it was clear no-one could get away.
On that note I can understand why the organizers can only enforce a 7m draft-zone for the age-groupers, but for those who start at the front with a completely clear course there is no reason why it shouldn’t be 12m. For pro’s it is effectively a draft-legal race as backed up by a study of the times. A 7m gap provides a very noticeable energy-saving as compared to riding solo, especially as the latter half was predominantly into a headwind. The bike was ticked off in 1:00.29hrs, I had the fastest ‘open’ time, my Garmin resisted 58.30, I suppose part of transition must be included.
Run: 36.43
Out of T2 I exited in equal third having already gapped the other two guys. As I’m sure many fellow triathletes would agree, prospects of a good run time can be ascertained within the opening steps of the run. In my case I came off the bike with zero idea of what I was capable of, I hadn’t run fast nor long in ages! My longest run since August 24th was 12ks and that was two days before my calves were re-injured. I didn’t even have full confidence I’d be able to do the run without both my calves popping and writing myself off for another few weeks.
Fortunately my nerves were settled with an opening K ticked off in 3.24, not blistering, but for where I was, I happily took it. Just after that the guy I was running with said something on the lines of ‘we are going out too hard,’ taking this as a sign of weakness I put in a surge up and over a bridge dislodging him 1500m into the run.
Passing one of the female pro’s
At this stage I could just make out Nick in the distance, Matt was well up the road. The remainder of the run was hot, lonely and exceedingly painful. OD’s are my least favorite distance in terms of the pain it inflicts. It’s short enough that you need to go full-gas, but long enough that it wrecks you.
At the turnaround I saw I had a decent grip on 3rd with over a minute to 4th. I was on target for a 35flat 10k. Shortly after this the wheels started to fall off, my feet became a blister, bloody mess, my calves started to hurt and my lack of fitness started to rear its head. I went from urging myself to stay below 3:30pace to 3:45. I was lucky to have fellow EnduranceTeam member Sarah Lester and a some random nice guy yell out splits to me during the run. I wasn’t going to catch 2nd, but I was unlikely to be caught from behind. I ended up running 36:43 on a slightly long (200m) course, only two people in our category (both finished behind) ran under 36mins.
I’d like to say I enjoyed the last 2k’s with the enormous crowd, but my fear of being caught and the general pain of nearly 2hrs of racing robbed me of that. I crossed the line in 1:59.07 absolutely spent and emotionally drained. The overriding emotion was relief, I wanted a good result and I had got it. It was my first time under two hours. My illness which had been somewhat contained, came out in full-force post-race, it has been a very long time (gastro aside) I’ve felt that bad.
Total Time: 1:59.07
It was a bit of a family affair out there with my dad and sister competing in the teams event, with dad doing the swim with his mates and my sister being a last-minute fill in for the team of Kieran’s (a fellow ET member) dad. They both (moreso my sister) had a ball, it was great to share the experience of competing at Noosa with other family members. I couldn’t do what I do without their phenomenal support and patience!
My sister 2ks into the run
I would post a photo of my dad, yet there is only one picture of him from the official even photographer. Apart from looking like he’s on the verge of a heart-failure there is nothing untoward about dad; however, the same cannot be said of the man pictured directly behind. Not only does he have (from the waist to his neck) the left side of his body COMPLETELY tattooed (i.e. there is no skin to be seen) he is wearing the most see-through set of white bathers (or more likely Bonds underwear) possible. He might as well swum naked, for all the covering up his bathers provided.
Some other notes
- Doing events of the magnitude of Noosa makes you appreciate just how big triathlon is in Australia, it’s a shame this grassroots participation is not mirrored with better television coverage and prizemoney for professionals.
- Waiting in transition my sister sore another team competitor applying makeup
- On a scale of a pit bull’s bark, to a cat’s meow, I can judge how well I’m doing in the race just by my mum’s ‘encouragement’ of ‘go William!’
- Noosa must be the only place in Australia to challenge Canberra in its round-a-bout fetish. SO MANY!! They would have been very treacherous in the rain or for the majority of age-groupers who would encounter significantly more congestion than I did.
- I don’t get the obsession people have with doing all their taper sessions (whether it be swim/bike/run) in their trisuits, especially when they go for breakfast after…still in their tri-suit.
- Tri-Alliance must be seriously cashed up; they had one VERY impressive waterfront mansion adjacent to the start.
- The pro’s were (collectively) the most relaxed in the days/minutes proceeding the race than any of the age-groupers.
- Massive kudos to the lady who sat roadside for the whole race and told literaly thousands of people that went past ‘only 1 more K.’
- The level of friendly support out there was incredible!
- I want to move to Queensland
- On the flight over there was an interesting interview with Darren Smith, one of the questions asked related to how he teaches his athletes to cope with pre-race nerves. Paraphrasing his response…nerves are a response to an athletes belief in poor-preparation, a well prepared athlete should have no need to have pre-race nerves. I took this advice onboard and was the calmest I’ve ever been in the minutes proceeding the gun.
- All I have to say one white-trisuits……
On a final note I want to thank the countless people who’ve supported me in my buildup both over the last few months and in the nearly four years that I’ve done this sport. Triathlon is the first individual sport I’ve done properly, I spent my childhood as a cricketer, its ironic that in an individual sport I’ve never felt more a part of team. I am so lucky to be a part of ‘EnduranceTeam’ headed by my coach Jarrod Evans. Two years ago he took me on as someone who had never even podiumed in my age-group nor cracked the top 100 overall in local races. My progression is testament to his coaching and the people I’m fortunate enough to train with day in day out. My family have been there from day one, their support is the reason why I can do the sport in the first place. My mum especially has been a rock, her mid-race shouts of ‘encouragement’ (resembling a pitbull’s bark) have definitely driven me (or was that pushed me to get away from her vicinity ASAP). It was great that I could share the experience with the rest of the family, hopefully next year I can get my other two sisters and mum to participate in the Noosa triathlon in some form.
Til next time….
