Longest Day Ironman = 1998 - By=20 Joel Sylvester

I've been building up to = Ironman for the past three years. I've always = found it=20 easier to 'keep going' rather than to go faster, I=20 think its called being stubborn. As I completed first sprint, then olympic distance events = the=20 alternative of trying to go faster or longer presented itself. I suppose = the=20 bottom line is that when you're bullshitting at work about your = triathlon=20 exploits, people aren't impressed by how fast you do it. Its always the distance that they ask about. How = far? You=20 must be mad! The insanity of Ironman = beckoned. This=20 year was to be the year. August 16th, The Longest = Day Ironman triathlon in exotic = Wolverhampton.

And now=20 I've done it. I finished in 12 hours and 10 minutes. Crossing the finish = line=20 was the single most thrilling thing I've ever done in sport. What the = finish=20 line photo doesn't show is the whoop of joy I shouted across the = stadium, and=20 the amazing high I've been on ever since.

The build up began back = in=20 January. I put together a cunning plan which steadily built up the hours = of=20 training month by month. I peaked at just over 15 hours a week, = alternating with=20 11 hour weeks. With hindsight the plan was possibly over cautious, but I = did=20 finish comfortably so certainly the quantity of training was=20 sufficient.

My longest swim was a boring 4000m at well under race = pace.=20 My longest ride was 88 hilly miles from = Edinburgh = to Blairgowrie via Creiff, which I=20 followed with a half hour run. That was also my longest training day at = 6 hours.=20 My longest run was 18.5 miles, and it hurt far more than the race = did.

I=20 did the Aboyne Half-Ironman=20 four week before the race as a test run, and it all seemed to be coming = together=20 wonderfully. I had a race plan, I felt well prepared and confident. I = was=20 getting lots of advice, most of it useful. Only one = piece of=20 advice that was missing.

Don't get a cold.

There is = an inevitability to colds in my household. It = doesn't matter=20 how healthy you are, when you're exposed to two contagion carrying kids coughing and spluttering = all over=20 you, then you're going to catch it. Its = unavoidable.=20 With one week to go, and well in to my taper I was supposed to be = feeling=20 brilliant.

Instead I went down with the works. You can imagine = how pissed=20 off I was. I travelled with the family down to my folks in Derbyshire = feeling=20 very sorry for my self, hoping that the cold would go 'to plan' and be = over by=20 the weekend. I tried a positive mental attitude, I *would* be over it by = the=20 weekend, but deep down I was worried.

Saturday found me = registering and=20 setting my bike up. Nobody else seemed to be blowing their nose or = coughing up,=20 well, I'll not go in to the gory details. I chose to look upon it as = some=20 adversity to battle against. After all, all the best athletes have to = battle=20 against adversity! My symptoms had actually pretty much cleared up, but = who=20 knows how much work my immune system was still doing, and how it would = affect my=20 performance after half a day racing.

The pasta party was the only = disappointment in what was otherwise a very well organised race. The = race=20 director took us through the course and the rules. A show of hands = indicated=20 about two thirds of us were Iron-virgins. Special rules for the event = included=20 having your tyres deflated for crossing the start line before the gun, = and=20 having your shoe laces taken out for drafting. Early = to bed,=20 and very early to rise.

The race start was a unique = experience to=20 me. There was a tension in the air, nervous laughter, but none of the = buzz=20 associated with shorter races, of athletes about to explode into the = event. It=20 was almost serene, with the sun just coming up behind us, and totally = calm water=20 in front of us. The klaxon went, and the long day = started.

Waiting to=20 get in the water ...and they're off! You can just see the first bouy in the distance, and the second in the far = right hand=20 corner. Make that a square and do it 3 times. Out in 1:10, dead=20 chuffed.

My swim went perfectly. With = plenty of=20 people around me I was able to draft and move from group to group, = passing the=20 time. I've done 1500m swims which felt much further. I was feeling so = good I=20 really did wonder if I'd miscounted the laps and still had one to do (I = only had=20 to count to three!) when I followed others out of the water. = 1:10=20 found me on the exit ramp, where volunteers helped with the timing band, = my=20 wetsuit and guided me in the right direction. The race director demanded = to know=20 why I was walking to the changing tent, I joked back that I was = prolonging the=20 pleasure, trying to get my moneys worth.

After a ten minute = calorie=20 packed transition I was out on the road. The sun was up, the chill on = the air=20 was melting away, I was eating and being overtaken. What a life. How = could=20 anybody want to do anything else on a Sunday morning?

Only 112 = miles to=20 go... Not a bad aero position eh? (and its=20 comfy)

Four hours later, I was still eating and still being = overtaken,=20 but not quite as often. I kept on being caught by the same people. = Everybody was=20 trying to save energy, and most were working from heart rate monitors, = so=20 peoples speed was dictated by the things other than their competitive = desire. As=20 people went through good and bad patches their speed changed. As had = been=20 pointed out to me, if they come past, they are either better than you, = or you=20 *will* catch them later. How very true.

Seventy miles was the low = point=20 on the bike. There seems to be a point I'd noticed in training, when my = body=20 goes through a transition. Perhaps the physiology of it has something to = do with=20 a change in energy source, but whatever, mentally I start to feel = depressed.=20 Nothing for it but to keep spinning and think about = other=20 things.

A few miles later, = disaster. I=20 shifted from the large to small chainring, = perhaps I=20 wasn't concentrating fully, and the chain drops. I'd had my Kilo = serviced the=20 week before by the Bicycle Works to prevent just this kind of thing. Oh = well, I=20 tried to flip it back on with the derailleur, usually works. Instead, I = had to=20 perform an emergency stop as the back wheel lifted as the chain jammed, = yanking=20 the rear derailleur up, past it's end stop and in to the spokes. My = heart rate=20 went through the roof as I dismounted to look at the damage.

The = hanger=20 which the derailleur is mounted on was bent by a few degrees. The spokes = were=20 scored, but not bent. The derailleur was twisted up and looked bad. I = just=20 couldn't believe it. Surely my race couldn't be over? I messed around = with the=20 assembly for a few minutes, trying to straighten things up, but to no = avail. I=20 ended up adjusting out 1st and 2nd gear so that the derailleur cleared = the=20 spokes, and tweaking the gears until they seemed to work. Great. 40 miles to go with = knackered=20 gears. The chain kept jumping, but at least 3rd was stable, and I = wasn't=20 putting much power through the transmission anyway.

Ten minutes = later,=20 the roving mechanical crew came past. I waved them down, and they spent = a few=20 more minutes improving the adjustments I had made. They said I'd make it = home, I=20 wasn't so sure. I clattered off down the road.

The rest of the = bike ride=20 was uneventful, boring and mostly in to the wind that had picked up. As = I=20 returned to Gailey, where I started almost 6 = hours=20 earlier, I clocked up my first century ride. The end was in sight. I = added some=20 salty pretzels to my diet of malt loaf, banana, fig rolls and Leppin.

Normally I can't stand = anything so=20 salty, but this time the pretzels tasted so good. I hope they would = prevent=20 cramp later. On winding backroads I headed = south=20 towards the Aldersley Stadium. I was feeling = good, and=20 had a long chat with a Welsh bloke about bikes and life in general. OK, = so=20 technically I could have been done for riding alongside, but I was past = caring,=20 and neither of us got any benefit from it.

And so into=20 transition. I punctured on the track into the stadium, but didn't = notice=20 until after I'd finished. A marathon seemed quite appealing at that = point,=20 anything that didn't involve saddles.

After the ritual = application of=20 vaseline to the = sensitive=20 bits, I started a slow, easy run. An added psychological bonus - the = winner=20 hadn't yet finished. Somewhere on the first lap Julian Jenkinson passed me in the opposite direction, = heading for a=20 winning time of 8:25.

Three out = and back=20 laps of a flat converted railway track - ideal for a long run. Boy was = it long.=20 The first four miles went so slowly. On and on and = on.=20 My pace was comfortable, heart rate in mid Zone 1. By now I was on Leppin and water. I felt fine, tired but not sore = or in=20 pain. I just had to stick at it and eat up the miles. Each four mile leg = went by=20 in forty five minutes exactly. Each aid station was walked and gradually = there=20 were more people behind me than ahead. More and more were walking. = Slowly, I was=20 starting to overtake more people. I kept on reeling off 11 minute miles, = one=20 after another, on and on.

At 17 miles I started my final lap. At = 19 miles=20 I had run further than ever before, and felt tired but comfortable. I = started to=20 drink the flat coke offered at the aid stations. What a revelation! I'd = regarded=20 coke as a comfort drink to take late in the race, but the raw sugar and = caffeine=20 was a powerful mixture and provided a real boost. It put me on a roller = coaster, the peak had to carry me to the next aid = station=20 before I hit the next low. At about 22 miles I passed the last turn = around, and=20 felt strong enough to up the pace. For the first time I felt I was = really=20 running rather than doing the Ironman = shuffle, but=20 it's all relative, I'd speeded up to about 9.5 minute mile pace which at = any=20 other time I would hardly call fast. But this was Ironman and the normal rules don't = apply.

Heading out on the run, legs = feeling=20 good

I was feeling really good now. Coke and the anticipation I = was only=20 a few miles from completing my first Ironman = pushed me=20 on. I was passing many people now, some of whom I remembered cycling = past me=20 many hours before. The feeling of elation was starting to well up inside = me. I=20 still had 20 or 30 minutes to go, but I'd done it, I'd beaten the Ironman. Coming off the railway track the course = looped=20 around the stadium and I could hear the commentator and the music, my = moment of=20 glory was just minutes away. I was finishing strong, charging towards = the=20 finish. A slight rise to cross the stadium road, = then downhill=20 to the car park. Passed two more = people. Then=20 the cruel slope to get into the stadium, probably about 30 degrees for = 10=20 metres, I sprinted up it, yelling at the spectators that I was coming = through.=20 Overtook one more person on the bank around the stadium, and then around = the=20 track, down the centre of the stadium and across the line.

By the = finish=20 line clock, I finished in 12 hours, 10 minutes and 33 seconds. My swim = was=20 1:12, bike = 6:24=20 (inc T1), and run 4:33 (inc T2). I=20 negative split the marathon! If you allow for time lost due to = mechanical=20 failure I was spot on my planned time of 12 hours.

Done it!

Crossing = that line was=20 the most exhilarating thing I have ever done in sport. Prior to taking = up=20 triathlon three years ago I did a lot of rock climbing and = mountaineering. I've=20 had some pretty good highs topping out from a difficult climbs, and I = have=20 missed that in triathlon. Some how crossing the line of a race just = isn't the=20 same, it never had the feeling of conquering something. If you do the = training,=20 finishing a triathlon is easy.

Ironman is=20 different. The distances are just as artificial as a perceived line of = weakness=20 in a rock face, and there are certain physical requirements needed to = complete=20 both a triathlon and a rock climb. But Ironman=20 required from me a mental strength which I have only every needed before = in=20 climbing, and it's winning the mental battle that was so special, so=20 exhilarating. I was told before the race that Ironman=20 was all in the head, and they were right. I needed the mental discipline = to plan=20 the logistics, the work through the plan and to maintain an early steady = pace=20 when it seemed just too easy. I needed to work through the bad times and = not get=20 carried away during the good times. I needed to concentrate on style and = mechanics and not be overcome by the fatigue. The physical challenge = once I=20 crossed the line felt almost incidental. My Dad, along as support, kept = asking=20 if I was knackered. I was and I wasn't - tired, but no more so than for = much=20 shorter races. The real fatigue didn't hit until much later.

Just a little = tired.

I wandered=20 around a little trying not to stiffen up. My dad gave my legs a massage. = A=20 friend sat down beside me eating the most disgusting looking greaseburger I had ever seen, but boy did it smell = good. I=20 figured my body deserved it, so after a day of carbohydrates, I wolfed = down=20 something that must have been 90% fat. Delicious! I bumped into another = finisher=20 I knew prior to the race who was looking a little worse for wear, but he = had=20 this terrific grin that I can only guess was mirrored on my own = face.

I=20 AM AN IRONMAN!