Saturday, September 22, 2007

Swim Flash-back

Here comes a flash-back (please feel free to skip this next few bits if you wish)

Usually, the swim start is great place to have a moment of truth (actually, panic is a better word) when you realize what a mess you have got into. There's no lane lines in the sea, you can't see the bottom & there's no burly lifeguard to call for help. Therefore, I guess it's only human to have thoughts like these bouncing off your head after your first few strokes in the sea:"What have I gotten myself into this time? Why did I ever sign up for this event? I could be enjoying a nice breakfast at the East Coast hawker centre right now. "

(PS. Post-race , I realized I didn't feel any of the above. Probably I was too focused on reaching the first buoy, and of course seeing someone more 'chicken' than you at the beach also helps.)

Monday, September 10, 2007

Murphy’s Law at 6:50am

As you know, Murphy's Law does happen at 650am.

My friend, with good-intention, had managed to get a pump to inflate my rear wheel. However, upon unscrewing the tube cab, the cap exploded, along with a gush of air, into the cool morning. Feeling as deflated as the tyre, my composure quickly morphed from shock into mild panic. Both of us quickly wheeled my bike to the bike mechanic tent. The tube was replaced ($15 supplied by our friendly camera man) but it took a while to put the tyre back into the bike frame. Our swim start was beginning in about 20 minutes! Fortunately, a great suggestion by my friend to the bike mechanic was made: they fix the bike while we swim, and rack it up for me at my bike slot. Brilliant!

We ran to the beach just in time to see the elites lining up to start their race at 7:15am. I warmed up with front-crawl repeats of 20-50 strokes, swimming perpendicular to the shore. Scanning the water horizon, I saw the buoys that we were supposed to swim to, around and then head for the next before coming back to shore. Arranged in a rectangle, we are to swim counter-clockwise for about 1.9 km I rehearsed my strategy in my head: swim close to the buoy, swim as straight as possible to the next buoy, try not to sight too often (it tires the neck & can disrupt the strokes) by following the crowd.

At 7:35am, my wave started and I positioned myself toward the back, nearer to the buoy line. The race horn blared for my wave to start and you could feel a momentary gasp of excitement as the swimmers put on their goggles and set off their watches. I quickly shook the hand of the fella next to me, and wish him a good swim (he was looking nervous). That done, off I went into the East Coast sea!

Thursday, September 6, 2007

Finally, the Start Point…and a prelude to Disaster.

445am: I woke up on schedule thanks to my trusty PDA.

Breakfast is 2 hard-boiled eggs (they turn out runny instead!), a bowl of cereals with milk, topped with banana slices. I wash them down with a warm glass of pollen honey.

535am: I'm outside and hailing a cab. It' s good that my bike had already been checked-in yesterday. A lot of taxis do not want to ferry passengers with bikes -even though the bikes can be dismantled easily into their boots.

6am: Nearer to F2 Car park at the East Coast Parkway, there's already a jam of cars. Taking the suggestion of the driver, I alight earlier and walk about 300m to T1 (transition 1 area) for body-marking and race-preparation.

It's a long queue and you could feel the excitement in the air amidst the crowed of lycra- garbed silhouettes. Many have come with families, friends and spouses. (My supporters were still dreaming in bed) . I could see the pros (Matt & his team mates) at their bikes, primping and pumping their bikes. Finally, I got my arms stamped with the main sponsor's logo and my race number and I proceeded to find my bike. Loading up the drinks into my bike, I look around for familiar faces. There's Murray, the gym instructor who did the Ironman Korea. I went over to shake his hand and we exchange well wishes. I also see William, my lecturer at uni. I give him the thumbs-up and wish him a safe rest.

Shortly after, my good friend - the one with the spine condition (no, not that hunchback with bell duties) came over to offer to help pump my bike tyres. I said yes (Oppps!).

T’was the Night before 70.3

Actually, I should start my race story at the night before the half ironman race.

So here's what I did before turning to bed at about 10 plus:
1) Mix my bike drinks
2) Mix my pre-race drink
3) Write down my breakfast menu (tested already during a trial race during National Day)
4) Final check of my energy gels to make sure they are enough for my bike and pre-swim.

My bike drink comprise three 24oz bottles (each is about 2 softdrink cans) . The first bottle I mix my "High-5" electrolyte drink I bought in Hong Kong during a trip there at a tri-shop with a funny name (I seem to pay a pilgrimage visit to that shop everytime I'm in HK!). Next bottle is my magic mix of this endurance drink - a brand of soy protein and electrolyte drink that's supposed to provide fuel for longer duration exercise with some stuff (all legal!) to reduce muscle cramps. The last bottle is filled with the humble but tastier Pocari drink. Two bottles will be loaded onto my drink cage (just below the bike seat) while the other is a special aero-bottle (with straw) that hangs over the bike aero-bar. I suspect that I may have to top up at the drink stations during the 90km bike route -especially if the weather gets really hot.

Then it's Zzzzz7..0.3.....ZzzzzzzzzzzZ.... time.

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

In the laps of the gods... (Sept 1, 2007 Evening)

I was fortunate to be invited to a a pro triathlon team's sacred ritual before a major race: the carbo loading dinner. This was my chance to see how much these pros really eat the night before . So there I was, in the laps of the (triathlon) gods at a swanky italian restaurant in the heart of town.

I sat beside Matt (who just run pro this year). Sitting at the table were also the other pros from various places like Brazil, Scotland, England and Canada. Amongst them were the 1st place winner of the recent Ironman Korea, and also podium finishers of recent ironman/half ironman races. Turns out that Matt worked in various jobs before turning pro -waiting on tables, subway sandwich maker, bank teller, farmer, gardener etc. etc. I guess we better be nice to those who wait on us -you never know that waiter could be a future ironman champ.

I had a good time. The pros are just as human as you and I. The only inhuman stuff they do is that they race ironman/half ironman races on a regular schedule. Just another day at the office for them.

Oh, and they eat about the same stuff and amount as I did on carbo loading night.


PS. Tip: Don't ever get an ironman to iron decals on your race suit. Apparently they are not very good with the a real iron and an ironing board. Sorry Matt, but I think you better stick to your day job... :-)

Begun, this carbo loading has...(Sept 1, 07, Morn & Noon)

Woke up at 730am today.

Off to the stadium with an easy 10 minutes jog.

Immediately at the stadium, I launch into two intense run loops of 1 min 33 sec per 400m lap; and a a final 200m "all out" sprint to kick start the carbo-loading process. This intense bout of exercise apparently trigger off a carb-boosting enzyme, which forces more glycogen into the muscles than usual (read: you get an extra free fuel tank, maybe two!, for your body on race day. And that is very, very important for endurance events lasting more than 2 hours) .

Well, that's the theory. Please feel free to skip the theory bit in the next paragraph if you want to.

A side nutritional detour here: the one-day carbo loading experiment was actually a ground-breaking Australian study done around 2002. Prior to that, the common wisdom gravitated toward the 7-day regime which requires zero-carbo intake for 3-4 days. You can imagine how cranky when one goes without rice, pasta, ice-cream, sweets, prata, laksa, bak-kut teh, fries...you get the idea. Having used the 7-day regime before in my schooldays, I can attest to its effectiveness but it's a laborious process and a much grumpier route to race day nirvana. I tried the one-day carbo loading a few times before and I think it works just as well(sans the grumpiness -which I think does wonders for inter-personal relationships).

Now back to my story. After a quick warm down at the stadium, I'm off to a nearby McDonalds to load up on hotcakes, hashbrown and green tea. I followed that up with a bunch of bananas (enough to feed a small family of monkeys).

Reaching home, I began to plan for the race day logistics. Packing my stuff into 3 packs as provided by the race organizers -a swim bag, a bike bag and a run bag. Around noon or so, I tucked into a Pasta Mania lunch to further load up my fuel tank. The weight-loss gurus will probably stone me for this line: but I'd say it's good practice to set an alarm every hour or so to remind yourself to eat more carbs throughout the day.

1:30pm I hailed a cab and load the bike and the run bag to T2 (transition 2 at the champs area). Alighting at the T2 stadium, I heard someone shouting my name. It was my good buddy in training -he's also doing the 70.3 race on Sunday. He has a medical condition -with a name as long as your arm- which affects his spine structure. Fortunately his doctors has given him the green light to train as exercise may help to slow down or even improve his condition. Amazing chap, I'm sure there's a lot of unknown heroes doing the race this weekend.

After checking in my bike and run bag, we trotted off to a nearby food court to chow down some fuel(I mean, food). There and then, we witnessed stormy clouds churning into drizzle, as if the weather was telling us that we were previewing tomorrow's race conditions . Indeed, our weather reports were forecasting thunderstorms in the late morning and early afternoon tomorrow. Well, we are keeping our fingers closed.

Well, weather forecasters do have a bad track record, don't they?

It was a dark and stormy (ride)....(May 17, 2007)

It was a dark and stormy night...All right, Snoopy used this first but it's an apt description of how I felt riding alone in the wee hours of the morning along the famed Thomson-Mandai route.

Woke up at 5am and started my solo ride in the cool early morning air. Less than ten minutes along Thomson road, I turn left into a side road which takes me to the dark path up along Mandai reservoir.

Rippling like a black mirror with the faint reflection of the clouded moon above, Mandai Reservoir, appears like a landscape out of a dream. A breeze blows over the water and is eerily cold. I must confess this is not the part of the ride that I stop to smell the err... roses. Surrounded by trees which cast skeletal shadows on the aspalth, the Mandai path looked haunted. The chilling air along this route does not help, neither does the fact that there is no rider or any vehicle on the road at this hour. Suffice to say that my speed along this path is faster than usual.

On the return journey back from Mandai and the U-turn at the abandoned Shell station, I overshot the turning back into my favourite creepy Pierce road. Realizing I was heading toward the expressway, I quickly dismount and walk along the side of the highway back to the traffic lights crossing. Big mistake. While walking back to the traffic lights, the rear wheel struck a sharp glass or metal and punctured. I then remembered my friend Jason (my bike sponsor) cautioning me never to ride or go near the sides of roads as they are usually full of sharp debris-not very kind to bike wheels.

I dragged my injured bike back to upper Thomson road, finally reaching a petrol station. The service girl was kind enough to allow me to use the phone as I got nothing on me at all. I was glad to get a cab. And more than happy to load my bike into the cab, head home & live to ride for another day.


PS. Boys Scout's motto: "Be Prepared" is good advice. Ever since this incident, I always make sure that I bring my mobile phone, cash & ID on my rides.

One BRICK at a time..(Feb 3, 2007)

Rome was not built in one day, so they say.
It takes one brick at a time.

I kick off my triathlon session this year with a BRICK session.
A BRICK is basically a back-to-back cycling session followed by a run. The aim is to train your legs to adjust from cycling into running in the shortest time possible. If you have not tried it before, you should. The blood flow feels a bit funny after you get off the bike (especially if it's a long ride) and start to run.

Anyway, today's my first BRICK (Bike-Run training) session at the stadium. I did a 45 minutes bike, followed by a 15 minutes run. I felt good initially but at around noontime, I was feeling a bit lousy and tired. That's what a BRICK session can do to your body if you are not yet used to it.

PS. Tip of the Day: The best place to hide your bicycle in the stadium is amongst the bushes. The jaga is not very fond of bicyles in his stadium!