Murphy’s Law Strikes Again

Out from the sea into T1, the first thought was :

"I sure hope my bike is still there!"

You got to understand that I was really at the mercy of the bike mechanics. If they screw up, it's going to be a very, very short race.

T1 starts with a dress-party for the bike part. For simplicty, I usually think from a bottom-up approach i.e. get your feet dressed first, then your waist etc....until your head. Putting my bike shoes on, I was already start to think of what to wear next. Race belt on, Bib number to face the back. Slipped my tempo timer into my wrist clip. Sun shades on. Some vaseline on the underarms and limbs. A quick sip of my protein drink. I racked-off my bike and started to cycle out from T1. Uh-oh, I forget that I have to wheel the bike out first to a bike mounting area. Unsaddling quickly , I push my bike as smoothly as I could to the bike mounting line. There, I hopped on the saddle and quickly gallop away.

Disaster struck!

Murphy's Law does come in multiples, this time at around 830am. The rear wheel was not aligned properly and it rubbed against the rear frame. I quickly rode to one side, got off and unlodged the rear wheel. A kind gentleman (spectator) ran across the road and tried to help me lift the bike while I adjust the wheel. Not good. Thanking him quickly, I carry the bike back to the bike mechanic tent. They fix it (apparently). So off I went. Fewer than 5 metres, the rear wheel jam into the frame again. Back I was at the mechanic tent, asking for help. This time, another chap fixed the bike. "Go! Go! Go!" he shouted like as if he were a pro coach. In my mind, I could have heard it as "Go(ne), Go(ne), Gone!".

Heart pounding, I rotate the gears gingerly for a few metres, looking back every now and then at the rear wheel, and hoping hard that I was not heading for the shortest race in my triathlon career.

Swimming with Mr Froude

Now back to the swim.

I took my first 40 strokes as slow and smooth as I had practised. Keeping at least one hand in front (what swimmers called front-quadrant swimming), I breathe alternatively on left side every 40 strokes or so before changing to the right. I'm told that front quadrant swimming exploits Froude's law, which simply means that a boat with a long waterline will sail faster than a boat with a short waterline. Except that this boat is me, and the longer water line is my feet right up to the tip of my extended arms. Sure hope this boat follows Froude' law.

Turning after the first buoy at about 250m, we headed to the next buoy about 750m away. From here, it is a bit tougher to swim straight as we were parallel to the shore while being buffeted by waves. Additionally the sun was right in front of us. Fortunately I used the sun as my rough compass so I didn't have to sight (lift my head to look ahead) as much.Finally after the third buoy, I could see the familiar yellow inflatable gate-pillars of the swim start/end. Exiting the sea at about 45minutes, I was quite happy with my swim -everything has gone according to plan so far! We were greeted my cheering faces and clapping hands...a great sight to see after immersing your head into seawater (and the rest of the stuff in the sea) for close to an hour.

Next stop: the T1 (transition one) area for the bike leg!

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.)

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!

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.

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... :-)