Ironman Austria 2013 – Jarlath Keaney

JK’s Austrian Ironman Adventure

I know I have been beaten by Miriam and Alex in producing a report about IM Austria but here’s my story……and I have no doubt that this will not be the last time I will be beaten by either fellow Pulser again.

Synopsis

I was surprised by how much crap I wrote. I suppose it’s more for posterity sake for myself, later in life, when the memory is fading and I need help putting on the cycling shoes. So I have decided to give a synopsis of my report for those that couldn’t be arsed reading it all.

Train for 6 months,

June 28^th          Fly to Austria

June 30^th          Swim 1:23, Cycle 6:33 and Run 4:16. Total time 12:32:14 = 🙂

July 1^st             Burger, chips, pints, whiskey and sambuca = 🙂 🙂 🙂

The End

The Start Of All This Madness

January 2010, with a few pints on board, I threw down a challenge to two mates to do the Spar Great Ireland 10km run that April in the Phoenix Park. I was full of bravado and was blowing that I would kick their asses. Prior to this I had never done any real running. To try and halt the expanding waist line, from time to time, I would have done a few laps of the local park and after 20 minutes I would have thought I was brilliant but feck this, I’m off home. I had never run a continuous 5km before never mind a 10km so I really was talking shite. Race day arrived and I got the race done, I finished 5,057^th in 59min 44sec. I could see the Kenyans and Ethiopians quaking in their boots with that finish time!!! I got my ass kicked by my mates and I manfully accepted the slagging. I didn’t care though as I got a great sense of satisfaction out of completing my first ever 10km race and really enjoyed the whole buzz of the race atmosphere.

Where is all this going when I am meant to be writing a report about Ironman Austria? Well, when I look back on things this point was really the start of my triathlon adventures. Little did I think that this would eventually lead me to completing Ironman Austria just over three years later. My time for the Spar Great Ireland race shows that I was never in the Mo Farah league, just an ordinary Joe Soap who plodded his way through 10km of running. So, for those that think you could never do an Ironman distance race because you are not good enough or haven’t got the natural ability, well if I can do it, you can do it too. You don’t need to be super talented although I like to think that my exceptional talents lie elsewhere!!!!! All you need is a bit of determination, some mental strength to get you through the wobbles during training (because the wobbles will happen) and a couple of equally touched fellow triathletes for training buddies. If you are a Pulse Triathlon Club member well the third item on the list is in plentiful abundance so you don’t have to look too far!

Fast forward to July 2012 and I got the itch for doing an Ironman event while tracking the Pulsers on line doing Ironman Frankfurt. Having gotten to know the members of the club who were competing in the race I was glued to the laptop, willing each of them on to get to that finish line. I think I was also kind of jealous too……jealous that I was not part of it and jealous of missing out on all the craic. (At this time however I was completely oblivious to the training each of them would have put in to get to Frankfurt in the first place)

So I duly jumped on the Pulse Ironman Austria bandwagon. Not realising the popularity of Ironman Austria, I was sorely disappointed to find out it was sold out when I went to book on line. This was probably the first of many expletives let out over the next 12 months that were directly attributable to my ironman adventure. My alternative however was to book through the sports travel company Nirvana who have slots for some of the Ironman events but you do end up paying a premium choosing this route. July 19^th 2012 and my deposit was accepted, the Ironman Austria train just went choo chooooo!!!!

Training

Before the training started I was obviously well aware of the distances involved for an Ironman but was having difficulty getting my head around doing all three on the one day. I had done a couple of marathons prior to signing up (and could hardly walk for three days after the first one, stairs were just a bitch!), but had come nowhere near doing anything like a 3.8km swim or 180km bike. I had similar feelings or thoughts when I signed up for the Half IM in Galway in 2011, I thought a 1.9km sea swim in Galway Bay, the bloody Atlantic Ocean, was complete nuts. With the benefit of hindsight however, these distances are manageable once the training goes ok and you get the nutrition right on the day. So for any Ironman wannabes out there, while the distances might seem mind-blowing, they are definitely surmountable on the day no matter how good, bad or indifferent of a triathlete you think you currently are.

Armed with the Don Fink Intermediate Ironman training plan, I excitedly enter the race date of June 30^th 2013 into the excel sheet to get the start date for the training……3^rd December 2012……a 1.5hr swim session and 30minute Zone 2 run on Christmas day…….fuck that shit, first executive decision made, I’m starting my training on 2^nd January 2013.

The training, I was hoping, was going to be made a bit easier from the point of view that I was not doing it completely on my own. A gang of 10-12 fellow Pulsers were hoping to do the race too, and all were fairly sound. Mind you in life you do tend to find that there is always one or two spanners in a group, those in the Pulse Ironman Austria 2013 group will remain nameless…….I jest, I jest!!!! The banter between the group, particularly on the long bike rides, took the drudgery off some of the training and for that I have to say many thanks to the crew. “Love this shit” became the mantra for the six months, however I’d say it was said more times through gritted teeth and with bucket loads of sarcasm than for the actual love of training.

I kept an approximate record of times and distances completed during the 6 months training.

I used the plan as a guide during the training and did not stick to it religiously but as you can see I managed to more or less achieve the programmed hours of training although the run time is wee bit short. I put this down to probably a few Sunday morning hangovers and those days when I just could not have given two f***s about going out for a long slow Sunday run. The small matter of a week’s holiday in Rome for Orla’s (the ickle sis) and Ciaran’s wedding might also have been a factor. The bike distance total is equivalent to cycling Malin to Mizen (by the shortest road route) nearly 6 times and the run total is the equivalent to 15.5 marathons……not too shabby!!!!!

The weekly training for the Intermediate Plan started off at approximately 10hrs/week and peaked at approximately 15hrs/week. After 6 months, and many moments of doubt whether I could do this, the training was done, the bags were packed and the road was hit for Austria.

Pre Race

Got to Klagenfurt on the Friday afternoon, met up with my room buddy for the next few days Padraig O’Neill, and we headed straight to the Ironman village. There was a great buzz around the village and I think at that stage I had the realisation that this shit just got very real! I think during the training there was the feeling that the race was off in the future but now the caterpillars in the stomach were morphing into butterflies.

I used Ship My Tri Bike to transport my bike to Austria and without doubt this was well worth it. It removes all the hassle that you have with dismantling/reassembling your bike, a bike box, getting to and from the airport etc. The lads in Ship My Tri Bike have it spot on and I could not recommend their service highly enough. They will also take a bag with your bike so you can get them to transport the bulkier items like your wetsuit, helmet etc. I picked my bike and bag up off the lads and cycled back to the hotel. That Friday evening the run and bike transition bags were filled, checked, double checked and tripled checked. I was verging on having being diagnosed with OCD I was checking them so often.

Saturday morning gave us the opportunity to have a swim in the lake and suss out the swim course. The water in the Worther See lake in Klagenfurt is crystal clear and beautiful to swim in, it’s no Killiney or Lough Dan I tell ya. Water was a balmy 19-20 degrees Celsius, you were nearly sweating in the wetsuit. The water temperature on the Saturday meant that the race itself was not going to be a non-wetsuit swim which brought much relief all round. My manly no wetsuit, freezing cold practice swim in Killiney the previous Monday was all in vain!!! Race briefing was at 9am that morning and as Miriam alluded to by the time the briefing was finished we were all pumped up and ready to do the race there and then. Back to the hotel to pick up the bike and bags and drop all off in transition. I had to stop myself checking the bags again……cop the fuck on Ja!. The rest of Saturday was spent just relaxing and soaking up the glorious sunny surroundings of Klagenfurt. The scenery around the place is fantastic and is a destination well worth visiting on a holiday.

Race Day

Alarm went off at 3:45am, and headed for breakfast. I joined the queue of Paddys all microwaving their own Flahavans porridge, us all sticking to our race morning nutrition strategy. Nerves were ok at this stage and was looking forward to what lay ahead. Headed to transition with Padraig, Miriam and her sister in law, Marie, and got the bike ready. Pumped the tyres and filled my food bag with my Powerbars and Gels. Fellow Pulser Andrea Talpo was directly opposite me at the bike rack. We chatted and discussed how Andrea was going to pump his front wheel. Andrea had recently changed his front tyre and could not figure out how to pump the wheel. I looked at it and looked up at Andrea with a look of confusion that Stan Laurel would have been proud of. The adage of not doing anything new race day was flying through our heads. As we pondered what to do there was a loud bang in the background, quickly followed by a collective moan from 2,799 other triathletes. Some poor unfortunate triathlete managed to overpump his (I am assuming it’s a he cos a she would never doing anything so stupid!) tyre and more than likely burst his tube and made shit of his tyre. At least he had time to try to sort himself out although I don’t know how he faired out. On a selfish note I was glad it was not me that it happened to. With some help from a fellow triathlete Andrea got his front wheel sorted and so mini panic was over.

The nerves are starting to kick in on the walk to the swim area. We change into our wetsuits in the dome but did not make any arrangements to meet after racking our bags. The area is full of wetsuit clad triathletes and its hard to differentiate people. “Agh balls” are my thoughts, as I didn’t want to head to the start line on my own. I hang around for a few minutes and the nerves are at me so I queue for the jacks thankfully for the last time. It’s the one time when the queues for the ladies are immensely shorter than the fellas. As I queue Padraig appears and I catch his attention. He waits and we head for the start line together. The area before the start line is well crowded and the air smells of neoprene and baby oil. The gun goes off and nearly frightens the shite out of me but then this could not be physically possible after all the loo stops earlier that morning. The gun was, however, for the pros and elite athletes who started 15 minutes before the plebs. (I had been asked by the race organisers to go off with this group but decided I would stick with my fellow Pulsers) We move to the start line on the beach and wait the final minutes before the off. We see Miriam and Marie and give each other the last minute hugs and best wishes. I see Ian O’Shea and we give each other the good luck hug and tell each other to enjoy the race and kick ass. Ian is more adventurous than me and he heads closer to the front, while I remain towards the back with Padraig and Miriam. My plan was always to let the washing machine madness go off before I start my race.

Swim

The gun goes off and a loud cheer goes up from all the supporters. I know Orla and Ciaran are out there somewhere but unfortunately I don’t see them. I let the faster swimmers off and walk to the water edge. I rinse out my goggles and put them on. I walk into the water to waist height and give myself a few last shouts of morale encouragement………“Game on Ja…….you can do this….. stay calm…… LOVE THIS SHIT”. Thankfully, I seem to get into my rhythm early enough and am happy with the way things go in the first few hundred meters. It’s not too rough, I get the odd slap but nothing to put me off and am thinking of some of the words Colin Bolger kept saying to me during the swim training sessions……“high elbow, Superman-like pose with the lead arm, rub the thumb off the hip”. Every time I take a breadth I can see and hear the helicopters overhead, and can smell the red and blue smoke bombs that were let off at the start. It’s a good and exciting feeling. The first 1200m is practically straight out into the lake with 3 or 4 bouys for sighting which are easily seen. The water is lovely and clear and its enjoyable to be swimming in these conditions. Before I get to the first turn I notice that a minor discomfort is developing above my left eye. I ignore it and keep going. At the first turn, things gets crowded and I have to resort to a little bit of breast stroke before I get to turn. Once turned I tried to swim hard for 20 – 30 seconds to get away from the congestion. In my head the turn was practically a 90 degree turn to the left but in reality it was not as sharp as that and after a while I realise I have veered off course a bit so I take my time to do some sighting and get my bearings. Back on track I notice the discomfort above my eye is getting more uncomfortable. I wonder what the hell is going on and come to the conclusion that in my anxiety at the start of the race I have tightened the goggles too tight. Stubbornness kicked in and I resolved not to stop to adjust the goggles. At the same time and whether it was related or not I felt a sickly feeling in my stomach. “Agh fuck” is just one of my thoughts. I immediately think of Andrea Talpo last year who unfortunately got sick during the swim and could not complete the race. I start to think that this might happen to me. I try to override all the negative thoughts and my current discomforts and think of the LauraLynn Hospice for which I had raised some cash for in the lead up to the race. “I have nothing to be complaining about in comparison so get your shit together and keep going” is my main thought. Many thanks for all who donated to the charity site and indeed many thanks to all who donated to all the other charity pages that were set up by other Pulsers. I think we raised over €10,000 between the various charities.

I get to the next turn bouy at approximately 1700m and its congested again so some breast stroke is required and another quick burst to try and get away from others swimming on top of you. I say to myself you are nearly half way, just keep the head down and keep going although I had often felt better or more comfortable on a swim. The last 2k of the swim is approximately 1100m back to land and 900m up a canal to the swim finish. If I have one criticism of the race it is the lack of bouys or identification of where the canal is on the turn for home. I hadn’t a breeze where it was and with the rising sun I found it very difficult to see where I was meant to be going. So much for me thinking I had sussed out the swim course the day before. Tool!!!! I therefore started to follow the swimmers in front of me which turned out to be a bad idea. When I started to see sand beneath me I knew that the shoreline was appearing way too soon. I looked up and a few kayakers were signalling to go left……hard left! I adjusted direction, put the head down and kept going, still battling with the discomfort above the eye, the sickly stomach and a blinding sun. I eventually made it to the start of the canal after a few other adjustments in direction. At this point I could see that I could stand up so I stood up to empty the stomach. I stood up for 10-15 seconds and belched and burped but nothing came. This did seem however to do some good for the belly so I adjusted the goggles and went back to finish off the job. Now by this time I would say the vast majority of the 2,800 competitors were gone up the canal so by the time I was swimming in the canal the clear blue waters of the lake were replaced by silty, murky water. I thought however that it’s only 900m so finger out and suck it up (not literally). There was a pedestrian bridge across the canal in the distance which I mentally used as my next target. Once I got there I knew that I was nearly there, maybe just another 300 – 400m to go. The final turn into the swim exit was greeted with huge relief and delight. I couldn’t have been arsed doing the dolphin type swim right into the exit so I stood up about 50m from the finish and walked the remainder, all the time sighing with relief. As I exited the water I looked at my watch and saw 1:23. I had estimated for between 1:20 and 1:30 so I was happy. Now I know reading the above may seem like I am a moany little prick but these were just the little dramas that I had, dramas that during my first Ironman probably feel bigger on race than they actually were. With hindsight, my swim wasn’t too bad for me. It’s a pace of 2min11sec/100m. In the pool I was averaging 100m in maybe 1:50 – 1:55 so over a distance of 3.8km (which I had never swam before in open water) that pace wasn’t too bad.

Bike

On the longish run to T1 I see Orla along the way and we exchange the few words and shouts of encouragement. She also manages to take a picture and I can safely say that’s one thing I have perfected during my triathlon career. If it’s someone you want to look completely fucked and gimpy in a photo at any stage during a race well I’m your man. I collect the bike bag in transition and sit down on the bench. I always knew my T1 was never going to be quick. I had decided that I was going to make sure I don’t rush it and make sure I had all I needed for the bike leg. So with that I wiped myself down quickly with a towel, liberally applied the sun cream, put on my heart rate monitor, put on my cycling jersey, made sure nothing had fallen out of my cycling jacket pockets, took a drink from my small water bottle, on with the socks, shades and helmet and off I went. T1 in 11min08 sec…….jayzus! Could have had a kip in that time, what was I at?

I run to get the bike and am greeted by, what looks like to me, a near empty transition zone…..agh shite! I run out of transition with bike in hand and thankfully do a reasonable flying mount without falling over and making an ass of myself……was conscious of making up valuable seconds after T1!!!! 🙂

I see Orla and Ciaran before they see me and I let a good culchie shout at them to get their attention but am nearly gone before they see me. Anyway, off I go on my merry way. I was happy to be on the bike as this for me is my strongest and favourite discipline, relatively speaking of course. My plan was to break each of the two 90km laps into three sections of 30km each. I was going to take it handy for the first 30km and get into a decent rhythm, work at the climbs between 30km and 60km and then a quick recovery and use the descents of the final 30km to try to maintain an average pace of 30-32km/hr. On the first 30km I was monitoring my heart rate. I had aimed to keep it at 135bpm give or take but to start off with it was at 150bpm so I backed off a bit but it only dropped to an average of 148bpm. This, I think, for me was on the fine line between being comfortable later on in the run or blowing up. I felt comfortable enough for the first 30km with the average heartbeat of 148 so I decided to keep going. The bike course in Austria is beautiful, some of the scenery of the snow-capped mountains in the background is fantastic and definitely distracts you from time to time on the bike. The road surface is, by and large, better than here at home so it was nice to cycle such a route.

All was grand for me going up the first major hill. The crowds were fantastic, constantly shouting Hopp Hopp Hopp!!! and Super Super Super!!!!! And the crowds spilled out onto the road as you went by giving it a real Tour De France type feel. When the hill started to pinch I thought of Alison and her brilliant spin classes. “Push and Pull….Push and Pull……You know how you feel…….If you can, up a gear” rang out in my head. I also had the thoughts of sausages in my head at this time! This came from reading Hilary McKeown’s report from the Pulse training week in France back in March. Part of her report referenced that good pedal technique should look like a sausage shape motion on a Watt bike rather than a figure of eight motion. So I tried to concentrate on my technique and kept on saying to myself with every revolution of the pedals…..sausages…..sausages…..sausages. I know I might be a bit touched but rest assured you will do anything to make climbing a hill as easy as possible for yourself. Coincidently hunger started to kick in at this stage and if my Austrian was any good I think I would have shouted out for a breakfast roll. Alas a PowerBar had to suffice.

First hill done and all was going ok until around 55km in and before the start of the second major climb when a rattle came in my front wheel. I couldn’t see anything wrong so kept going but the rattle was there and did not go away. I started to have negative thoughts and had visions of the bike falling apart before I ever got near the finish. And to add to my steadily decreasing confidence, the chain came off the big ring at around 70km so had to stop to fix. This brought on a rather prolonged bout of expletives which, in some shape, helped to get rid of some frustration. I got to the 90km mark in around 3hrs 12 min and was disappointed. The overall time expectation that I had in my head was now going if not gone. I knew if I was only doing 28kph average for the second lap there was no way I could make up this lost time on the run. This was not my plan……aggghhhhhh. I had purchased a second hand TT bike especially for the Ironman, hoping that it would allow me maintain that 30km/hr or above average. Whether it was me or the bike that was not performing I didn’t know but there was nothing I could do only keep going and hope for the best.

The chain came off on two more occasions during the second lap. Expletives duly followed both occasions. For the last 20km on the bike the rattle in the front wheel was proudly announcing its imminent arrival to all and sundry who were up ahead. I might as well have had an alpine cow bell hanging from the tri bars it was so bloody loud. I got some queer looks from lads that were passing me by. I could only but laugh at this stage. I had meet Julianna along the way and she too was having bike trouble. We chatted and offered words of encouragement to each other and went on at our own pace. 180km done (although my Garmin was telling me 177km and I wasn’t the only one who said that) in six and a half hours. Job done, disappointed but at least it was another leg done. I had never cycled a continuous 180km (or 177km) before so, no more than the 3.8km swim, there was two firsts for me on the day……..“Chalk it down Ja and be happy!”

Run

It was great to get on the run and have the swim and bike legs behind me. The legs felt grand from the outset. I was conscious not to run too hard at the start as per all good advice. So my plan was to run at approximately 5:30min/km and allow for about 10-20 seconds to walk through each of the water/feed stations which were at every 2km or so. I was determined to run the whole marathon aside from at the feed stations. This hopefully would equate to a 4 hour marathon time, which I knew for me was optimistic especially in an Ironman event too. That, however, was my target.

My first couple of glances at the watch showed I was running just above 5min/km which I found hard to believe. I am not a fast runner so how the hell could I be running at that pace especially after the previous 8 hours? It was a good feeling to have to say to myself to slow down. I was guessing that it was a combination of getting the nutrition reasonably right on the bike and the great crowd support that was lining the run route the whole way along that was making me run at that pace. I duly slowed down and got into my rhythm. All felt well and I was looking forward to seeing my fellow Pulsers somewhere along the way as well as seeing the support crew of Orla and Ciaran.

Am glad to report there were no major dramas for me on the run and by and large it was an enjoyable marathon. The run was two laps, each lap being of a rough figure of eight loop. Thankfully the run was completely flat and well shaded in spots although there was a fair warm suntrap from about 6 – 10km and obviously 26 – 30km. I am guessing temperature-wise it was somewhere in the mid-twenties which is plenty warm for any paddy running a marathon.

Orla and Ciaran had set up camp at about 3km into the run and as I approached I could see the Pulse, Irish and Leitrim flags tied around the trees. I think I gave a bit of a lep into the air to get their attention. It was a great lift to the spirits. We exchanged the few words of encouragement, some gimpy action photographs were taken and on I went feeling lifted after the encounter. Shortly after, I got a shout of encouragement from the wives of the two lads doing the race from the home triathlon club of Lough Key Triathlon Club which was a nice and unexpected surprise so it made the initial start of the marathon rather enjoyable. Over the course of the next few km’s I think I remember seeing Miriam, Alex, Alan and Andrea and we do the obligatory high fives where we can. I naively think that Andrea is behind me on the course and will probably come up to overtake me shortly. Turns out he was on his second lap!!!! Putting this down to the brain not firing on all cylinders at this stage.

21.1km done in 2hrs 2min, happy with that and legs and body felt ok. The run into Klagenfurt and around the couple of squares in the town was great, with plenty of encouragement particularly outside the bars. Needless to say there was a few paddies downing the pints at one establishment and the roars of encouragement and shouting your name was brilliant, I felt like I was flying it. Knowing that you had reached the half-way point on the run and that the back was well and truly broken on the whole race was fantastic and another boost to the morale.

I plod onwards and am looking forward again to seeing Orla and Ciaran at their Pulse camp. Plenty of roars and shouts go up as I approach again but my elation is brought crashing down to ground rapidly. Orla informs me that its half time in the Leitrim v London Connaught semi final and that my beloved Leitrim are getting annihilated, 2pts to 2 goals and 10…..FFS!

Back into the suntrap at 26 – 30km and its quite warm, body is beginning to feel tired and I can start to feel cramps developing in the stomach after all the gels and bars on the bike. I am keeping the fingers crossed that the cramps don’t develop into anything worse than it is. The locals are out with the garden hoses spraying you down if you want it and I take the spray of cool water at every opportunity, it’s quite refreshing.

The feed/aid stations are a great target to be setting yourself as you go along. Run to each station and “treat” yourself to a walk and some combination of water/coke/iso drink/fruit/crackers. I stick, by and large, to the water and flat coke, but succumb to temptation late on in the run to some orange and melon…..it tastes like the best thing ever. At another feed station I try the salty crackers but I am guessing some other little shit has already licked the salt off it cos I get nothing off it. I eat the crackers but now my mouth is dry and I have no water left. I can’t wait to get to the next feed station. Rookie mistake. The local kids are also knocking a bit of craic out of the water sponges and by this stage some of the sponges are gone a distinct shade of black rather than their original glowing white. I see Padraig at around 30km and we exchange encouraging words.

Orla and Ciaran moved their camp to around 32km and they force me to stop for another bloody photograph. Like the inconsideration they had stopping me, do they not understand I am a triathlete machine on a mission. Photograph taken and as I fire up the legs again, they tell me Leitrim have been beaten by a point. Bollix! Not exactly the inspiring, motivational news I want heading into the last 10km.

By now, my pace is dropping to around 6min/km and even slower later on. I don’t try to pick it up. I just take the view that my overall target time is long gone so what’s the point in busting your balls…..just make sure you finish relatively comfortably and enjoy the experience of the finish.

I catch up to Miriam, who was ahead of me the whole day, with about 6km to go. We chat for a while. She has been walking the last few km and I try to encourage her to come along with me but to no avail. I tell her when I see her next she will be an Ironman in the hope of giving some encouragement.

The Irish lads at the bar in Klagenfurt are well on it at this stage but it’s a bit of craic getting the shouts of encouragement off them. I round the dragon statue in the square and know that this is the last leg, I am on the way home, only 4km to go. These last 4 kms were definitely a struggle. It would have been so easy to walk but I keep shuffling forward, determined not to stop and walk. At the last couple of feed stations its real mind over matter to get back into the jog after walking through the station but I muster the last of the energy to get going.

Last km or so to go and you can hear the music at the finish line and the shouts of “You are an Ironman”. Its encouragement to keep going knowing that, soon enough, they will be shouting it at you. Last couple of hundred meters and Orla is there with my Leitrim flag and I gladly take it as the smile on my face grows bigger and bigger. I turn to run up the finish shoot and I slow down to savour the atmosphere. Music is pumping, crowds are shouting. I jump into the air a couple of times and put the hands to the ears to encourage the crowd to shout louder. Up the roar goes. It’s a magic feeling. I cross the line and hear those words that I thought I would never hear:

“You are an Ironman”

Would I change anything about my Ironman experience…….no, not a thing.

Would I do it all over again……..yes, definitely.

Would I recommend the whole experience……..without a shadow of a doubt.

You don’t think you could do it……bollix, YES YOU CAN!

Many thanks to my family and friends for their support, to Orla and Ciaran for the fantastic race day encouragement, to my fellow Pulse Ironamn Austria 2013 training buddies and triathletes and to Pulse Triathlon Club thank you all very much.