Ironman Frankfurt – Dee O’Connor

Be warned, grab a cuppa – the race took long enough – the report will too, by default!

For most people, the finish line at Ironman is the pinnacle of their journey. For me it’s not. It’s the journey that counts, that stands out. For that reason I’d signed up to do my second Ironman – before completing my first! I had been training for Roth 2014, my second year of tri, and adored it. I adored the discipline, the structure, the slow yet obvious progression in strength and ability. I loved how far I had come. I didn’t want my race to be the judgement of my year. I didn’t want a potential bad race day to diminish that feeling of personal achievement. So I promised myself I wouldn’t, and come what may on race day – I wanted to complete the journey again! Roth was amazing, and it compounded my decision to once again go long.

Frankfurt became the race of choice. Training is long and arduous. Everything has to be juggled and everything has its season. July was to be my best friends wedding, so Copenhagen was out. I had also taken on another college course, a Grad Diploma in Intensive Care Nursing, so May would be the most hectic time for college and May 31st the end of my study season (for that year!), ruling out an October Barcelona IM. But sure the Ironman diet would be perfect prep for a bridesmaid dress!!! I was going to miss not having Hilary as my training partner, but we were doing different IM’s this year. Because of shift work, I had done a lot of sessions alone last year, and felt it. This year I was determined to avoid that. Training with people better than you pulls you along, by the skin of your teeth sometimes! So I networked and chatted and thoroughly enjoyed mixing it up and meeting new people and touching base with old friends along the way, and had many adventures and hairy moments! Thank you, to those that pushed me, encouraged, believed in me let me draft behind you on the bike. And to those that listened; listened to me moan, then encouraged me to find the path to change what I wasn’t happy with, and stood by me. It is a hard year. It builds character, and reveals character of those around you.

I had learned from Roth. My midweek tempo runs, I had undoubtedly cheated back then – I had trotted out the times, but not so much the pace! I hadn’t quite understood the point of them. No more short cuts. I had also stayed away from my beloved hills for fear of twisting an ankle, only to read a lovely article that Ger Kirwin put on the FB page about the importance of hill running and muscle strength. Back up the mountains I went – and oh how I adored it!! Swimming I have always loved, even when I hated it! I up’d my game and took on extra sessions. There is always the debate on ‘should you bother putting so much time into swim when it’s only such a small part of the race’. My attitude is – tying your shoes laces takes up the smallest part of your run race – but this preparation is the most important part. It’s a long day, you don’t want to start tired, swim strong. And sure, all in all Roth, was 37 degrees – nothing will be as bad!! The Double in Athy was my choice of half, and it had gone to plan, better even. Thank God, as it was my first race of the year! I was to do Lough Cultra half but had gotten sunburnt in the days before hand and couldn’t face putting my wetsuit on over it!

July arrived sooner than I’d imagined, and it was time to buy the travelling pots of Flahavans and ambrosia rice. Our small possy of Miriam, Andrea and myself converged at the airport, bags packed and a bundle of nervous excitement. In the week leading up to it we had been watching the estimated temperatures like a hawk! The whatsapp group was hilarious – Laura Ward’s photo was brilliant!! She was taking her role as supporter seriously and was packing appropriately too!! I was going to be tracking her down on the run for a hose down! As the days in the week preceding flight day counted down, it was evident the weather was hotting up – fast. Guesstimated temperature for race day was 36 degrees. As we walked off the plane onto the tarmac I thought ‘ah here get me away from the back of the engine this is all I want’. Turns out we weren’t anywhere near the engine – it was the heat. I’d imagine it was what it would be like to run out of the Phoenix park and into the Dublin Bus car park, line ‘em all up in a circle, turn ‘em on and stand in the middle! On the outside I said, hhhmm this is hot! Into the airport and we collected out bags. Minus Miriams. It did indeed make it over to us, but not before causing plenty of unneeded aggravation and upset.

Friday morning Miriam and I met to go to the expo and sign in. The expo was positioned along the banks of the river, close to the finish line which turns off into the Old town. The path was a sand path, radiating in the sun. The heat was unnerving. By the time we walked the 2 k from the hotel on the banks, to the expo, I was dripping. Alisons’ spin class came to mind. My ankle socks were wet from the rivers down my legs. I was actually leaving heel marks in the tarmac of the road – not the centre line of pure tar – the actual road!! Guessing my size in the Ironman shop, I stocked up. Walking from expo tent to tent, the Irish were glowing. You could pick us out like Casper, hanging around in the darkest corners we could find!! And out popped John Gilbert!!! Big smile and a pair of jeans??!! Lol Richie wasn’t far behind. We enjoyed the banter and the little reference to the weather and found somewhere to eat and relax.

Race briefing took place in the bleachers set up at the finish line, or rather underneath them!! It began with the organiser saying “Welcome to the Sahara”!! Drinks of water were being handed out like smarties. The temperatures were still climbing and water temperature was already at 25 degrees – non wetsuit weather!! Ironman were adding on extra measures to aid us in the heat; 40 extra tonnes of ice were being flown in, 350 medical personnel on hand, aid stations increased to every 1.5 k on the run, the run route where possible was being moved from the river path in the blazing sun to the one under the trees; totalling half the run. This got the biggest clap of the day. Now for everyone else’s sake I will add this gem! I had a very important question regarding my run ‘special needs bag’. I wanted to know could I access it twice during the run – which was 4 loops. As everyone left the stadium (direct sunlight) a few hung about to ask their pertinent questions. The race director was a small, dynamic fella, full of pomp and character. I queued, waited and with a small audience left, it was my turn. He turned to me to give me his attention facing full, opened wide his eyes and turned his head a full 90 degrees showing me the cheek – about 3 inches from my face – and waited!! For what??? I wasn’t sure what he wanted, figured he was European and does ‘les bises’ so like the French, greeted him by kissed him on both cheeks!!! To which he said “”thank you for the kiss but what was your question” Holy Mother of God I ran – got my answer, and ran!! So eh any of you going next year – I’m in there with the race director!!!! Fifty shades of Red!!

Bikes had been picked up with the ease of ShipmyTri bike, and we got the courtesy bus out to the lake 12k away to drop them.

The necessary swim reccie was done. The water didn’t feel all too different to salt water, buoyancy wise. Beautifully aquamarine and crystal clear. The rest of the Ironman crew arrived; Siobhan, Clare, Laura, Kevin, Niall and Sinead. I had noticed Siobhan and Clare were more subdued than usual; ie quiet! I found out afterwards that they were all dying in the heat! But in true dedication, the support team meeting dictated that certain subjects and words were not to be used in front of the athletes for fear of tipping us over the edge – they were allowed to say it was ‘warm’ but not ‘boiling’ or ‘hot’, or add to the unnecessary aggravation, considering we could do nothing about!! 10 of 10 lads! Richie let loose the day after the race! Priceless! We had located our replacement kitchen for the weekend – a lovely restaurant beside the big Gherkin on the riverbank, with outdoor sitting (essential) and disgustingly massive pizzas (bonus!) that overhung the plates!! Also along the bank were lovely paths and park benches that saw one or two bottles of beer that weekend. The night before the race we all departed at different times of the evening. I hung on until the end, well until a nice relaxing beer at the river bank had been consumed, and John had run through my watch with me (shameful I know).

Regarding the issue of non wetsuit, I had given myself plenty of airtime and my thoughts had come full circle. I was at peace with it. I had originally had had a conniption, but certain things calmed me down in my thoughts. I had consulted my voice of reason – Hilary, who got me to add up the days I had swam in a wetsuit versus the days I had swam in skins! I had less than 10 wetsuits swims under my belt, and given I had been swimming 3-4 times a week since September in skins, I saw her point. Kim had also been concerned for her IM being a skins affair, so had requested my presence at Seapoint for a wee dip. Turns out it was of benefit to me! Conversations of old played on my mind – Alex pre Austria. He had said he wanted his to be non wetsuit as it would give the strong swimmers the advantage over others who didn’t favour it. Fair point. I had attended a sports psychology lecture in the run up to Frankfurt. It was fascinating and turned a few of my preconceptions on their head. Racing happy releases plenty of endorphins and hormones that enable you to race better, than that racing with negative thoughts! Race Happy!! So I decided to play mind over matter and for today I was going to tell myself that for today, I’m going to tell myself that I am in that category, this will benefit me! If nothing else, I hoped it to calm the nerves.

Race day arrived and at stupid o’clock we trundled off to the bus and the lake. Transition was nestled in amongst the trees, bikes glistening under the stars. Nerves were rustling like leaves amongst the 3,000 odd so competitors. Everyone was intent on the own bike, their business, their journey, focus and determination etched on their faces. I found a lovely gent to change my tube for me! I had a long day ahead 😉 Going over to the communal bike pumps I met a lovely lady trying to hold her bike and pump her tyres all at once. I offered to hold her bike for her. She was ever so grateful. I looked down at it. The Tin man from the wizard of Oz would have been proud. I thought to myself, she was going to be facing a long journey on it. Then I noticed the “I love Kona” sticker. And another, and another. I kicked myself for jumping to conclusions. Her name was Sadie Wiebe from Boulder Colorado. She was the epitome of humble. I drew the information out of her. She had competed at Kona more than 9 times. And won her age group. I was fascinated. ‘Oh but when you win you age group, they invite you back again, you don’t requalify’. She said it like she felt she was cheating her way back in! She said that a few times in the qualifying races she was the “only” person in her age category, that’s how she got there! I told her to never use the words “only” and “Kona” in the same sentence! Blasphemy!! She was delighted! She was the only person in her age category again today, she ‘only had to finish before cut off and she’d get to go again!’

I let others take over the conversation, wished her well and continued on my journey. The crowds of athletes were growing. I found Miriam and chatted before she left the bike arena. I queued for the toilets. I got chatting again. I find it fascinating to be let allowed see a little snippet into other people’s journeys. I spoke with a man in his late 40’s. It was his 19th Ironman. I did the math – it didn’t make sense!! He did 1 or 2 a year! He adored them. He had grown up kids. He would get them to train with him. He wasn’t going to break records. His aim was to keep fit, keep healthy, mentally occupied and teach his children to be disciplined to seek rewards. He travelled a lot with his eldest boy, a swimmer, competing at a high level. They would stay in hotels and he would bring his bike and turbo. They would get up, the son would help him set up, time, encourage him in his efforts. The book would be passed and the son’s swim meet would take over. And then the Dad would have his time again. I thought it was beautiful. It was humbling. Suddenly my day didn’t seem bigger than the unattainable. I was a step on a journey that was bigger than I had any idea. Each task is as big or as small as we make it appear.

I wandered and found the special need run bag truck, with a little helpful shout out from my Kona buddy, Sadie! I deposited my emergency supplies and had one last look about that wonderful chaos and calm all at once. As it was a swimsuit affair, I had debated whether to wear my heart rate monitor in the swim and risk it being kicked off, or put in on in T2. One event comes to mind. Due to the heat, Ironman had donated 100’s of bottles of sun cream to the event. They were laid out on picnic tables outside the changing tent. At this point, everyone had stripped down to their swimmers; trisuits, swimmers, shorts, speedos. 2,700 ish Adonis’ were parading about like it was the norm. And they were swarming about the sun cream tables, taking care to reach every body part, legs stretched up on the benches, caressing the ripples of their muscles! If Carlsberg did Ironman!!! Decision made, HR monitor did not need to be on or I’d be in the danger zone before the race started!

With nothing left to do, I exited the forest enclosed bike drop and headed under the arch to the sand dune leading down to the waters edge. Dawn was breaking. Crowds had emerged from the forest. As I looked left along the vast sand dune that led to the bank of the lake, the view was immense. Sunrise illuminated the skies and the dust was rising. Thousands of people were converging. Calm music blaring over the sound system kept the nerves at bay. I felt encompasses by the huge crowd yet all alone at the same time. How would I ever find the crew now??? Then straight ahead of me I saw the Pulse flag, then a top, then another. I laughed! They’d found Miriam too, and Niall. We all gawped about us! I was delighted with life, chattering away. All too soon the loudspeaker announced for the supporters to leave and athletes to make their way to the chorale. The music became louder and more ominous. Tick tock, tick tock. Tears appeared in the eyes of the supporters as they hugged us and said goodbye! I laughed! I understood it when I went to support in Barcelona. The 4 of us headed into the pen, Miriam and John, Niall and myself. I go distracted chatting and followed Niall to the right, weaving and ducking. It wasn’t until Niall said ‘Jeez Dee, you’ll do a deadly time, I can’t see any other girls down this far’ – I realised we had gone right down to the front!! A panicked look over my shoulder, up the sand bank at the crowd behind me and I accepted I was there to stay! I begged him as soon as we were released to run to the right, to the outer edge of the pack to I wouldn’t be crumpled in the mass start. He did and we took off!! It was so exhilarating I nearly forgot to breathe when the gun went off. I recounted all the tips for open water, esp non wetsuit – dip the head down to raise the legs, open up the shoulders, lengthen that reach, and follow through to the last, use every muscle. I adored it. I was on the outer right side, and the course was anticlockwise, which suited my breathing to the right. I had clear water. There was plenty of space. I relaxed and slowed my stroke but felt faster. The whole way through the swim I was beside the same 4 people, give or take a few we over took. I could spot a lad to my right on each breath. On exiting the first lap at the Aussie exit, I felt great! We powered out of the water. I could hear a voice roar my name in the crowd on the left. I turned, searching the sea of faces. It was Niall running beside me! The guy beside me had been him all along! The most delightful of high fives was had!!! Lap 2 was pretty much the same. Coming out of the water I glanced at my watch 1.18 !! I had beaten my Roth time by 4 minutes sans suit! I was elated!!! And running up the shoot I could see my compadres on the right roaring and whooping and practically falling over the barrier!!!!

As I entered T1 a little problem occurred – I was so adamant to press the right button on the watch – I focused, held it under my nose pressed it – too damn hard and it went straight to then run! Pancakes! So I decided – plan B toilet break (I still cannot after years of minding the elderly incontinent patient, pee on the bike/swim/sea). Watch reset and body happier I jumped on the bike and legged it.

I had 2 bottles on the bike, as I figured it would be warm (!) And had my tried and tested food stashed in my jersey and goodie bag – cliff bars and cliff shots- not a gel insight – ever! The bike route led us back to Frankfurt City, past the endless cars for miles along the route, showing the supporters plight. And then out into the countryside. The expanse vastness was impressive. And the roads beautifully smooth. I took off. The HR monitor, now on!, was quite happy. I had learned a wee bit from Roth, and was intone with myself of old. Under normal Irish summers as a child I had been know to get sunstroke at 27 degrees in Kerry. This had also happened in Roth the previous year. Gastric upset, as I shall call it, can be the difference between finishing a race at all. Also, at Roth, I had patiently waited outside the medial tent for a fallen compadre for hours. I witness the pure carnage that high temperatures on Ironman race day can inflict. Who am I kidding – I had seen people on that race connected to drips at the side of the bike route that hadn’t even made it to the run. People just abandoned their bikes and took shelter under the trees that day. The run had been full of distraught faces. The medical teams were pushed to their limits. People were being walked into the tent, stretchered in, one or two with defib pads attached and the holler for help that you know in work spells ‘pre crash’. So I was worried; for myself, for my team mates, for my fellow racers. High temperatures spells increased fluid loss, decreased perfusion to GI system and kidneys, and increased salt loss. I doubled my salt plan for race day. I had plenty of electrolytes for both bike and run. To prevent the onset of vomiting, which for me was a certainty in those temps, I took an anti-sickness prophylactically within 2 hours on the bike, so that I could take it again if needed on the run. I also needed to watch that I was indeed perfusing the kidneys – ie could I pee.

Lap one felt amazing, I can’t lie. At an aid station 2.5 hrs in, I decided to do he pee test, to see were the kidneys working? was there anything there! Lets just say, it was a half hearted effort, but successful. A wonderous lady ran over to me as I had dismounted, to hold my bike and opened the toilet door for me! As I came out she began pulling at my clothing. I had no idea what she wanted. She wanted to do something! I was too tired to argue so put my hands up like she wanted and hoped whatever she was going to do to me, she’d do it was fast. She spun me around and secured dripping cold sponges under the straps of my sports bra and underneath it on my back! I turned around, hugged her and planted a kiss on her cheek – the second German I’d kissed this weekend! She laughed and said something I’ll never understand (forget!) I was to repeat her wise move at every given opportunity, but slightly on the not so smart side, forgot to throw away the sponges once warm. As a result, on dismounting, I had accumulated –oh lets say 12 sponges + on my body! Let’s say race photos would not be kind!! On my bike and off I went. Checking my average speed, I was doing between 30-33 kph depending on the section of road. I continued on my merry way. The water stops were plentiful and very well stocked. I had practiced grabbing the bottles with my right hand! And smiled to myself on my disasters from Roth! Back into the city we came and swopped out for lap 2. And then the wheels came off. I missed I’m guessing 2 aid stops. On the mishap no 1, a damn Spaniard in front of me jammed on the brakes to stop to take the drink and put his feet down. I nearly rear-ended him and swerved to the left to avoid and full on crash – and missed the stop. I cursed and pedalled on. He passed me – obviously didn’t need the break he had! And he did it again at the next one for the food – shame on me. So I put the foot down and lost him before I was tempted to rob him. The heat went from nice and drying, to hot, to utterly stifling. It was disgustingly hot. I was drinking like I’d never drank before. I began wondering was it salt tablets at all the shop had sold me. But it never felt like it hit the spot. I could drink 500mls at a go and within ten minutes still have a dry mouth gasping for more. My skin burning, was no longer the issue. My whole body felt like I was being cooked. I had an image in my head of cutting open my arm as you would the Christmas turkey to see was it cooked or was their still blood. I was guessing – crispy chicken! And then it happened – I was out of water. I stopped at the next penalty box and gave myself a self induced penalty. I figured the marshal had to have water! I just wanted a mouthful to get me to the next stop. I offloaded all my rubbish collected in my jersey, and he was delighted at my non littering and rewarded me with 750mls of his own H20 stash! Onwards, to the next robbing station. Families were out in their droves, in the middle of nowhere. In the heart of the countryside, with house only a dot on their vast lands, people had come and stood on their driveways, parked up for the day with parasols, tents, picnics and crates of water to supply to the needy. Towns had their tables out lining the route and communities perched in rows, having beers in the shade of the sun. So many people had brought out hoses to cool us down as we passed. ‘No water charges over here’ was the shout from the Irish!

But the heat kept climbing. It got to the point where I just wanted it to be over. As in; all over. As in quit. I had never imagined myself in this place mentally. I had plan B’s for plenty of scenarios, but not for quitting. My plan A at the beginning of the year had been beat my Roth time 13.35 (?) and maybe even hit the 12 hr zone. Plan B, created when we landed in the Sahara, was finish the race and avoid the medical tent. I was beyond spent. I felt that doing a marathon alone in this heat was just ridiculous, nor a safe idea. Let alone, with everything before it. It was disparaging. Part of me said – well, one way or the other I have to get back to Frankfurt and walking was going to be damn slow. The other part of me said – don’t make a decision about the run – when you’re not even on the run. Another part said – the temperature 30-40 k away could be different, so you’re talking about a whole different ballgame. I’m delighted to have had so many personalities with me on the race that day! So I trundled on, with not that much steam in my sails. Miriam caught me. I was delighted for the company, and cautious to not let my lack of drive affect her race. We agreed it was shocking. She was as dubious about the run as I was. I said more for her benefit than mine – We’ll just see how we go – I’m going to start it and take it one k at a time – I can do 1 k – I can commit to that, and after that I’ll reassess. She liked the sound of it. I gave one last ditch attempt at a push and sailed in home. And there were the Pulsers to welcome us in on the edge of the city, like a big bear hug on an already warm day! Laura, a sea of hot pink jumping 6 foot in the air, Pulse flags and cycle tops around her. We raced into T2, can’t even remember off loading the bike, grabbed the bag and into the tent. I dumped it on the floor. No grace. No privacy either – 1 tent, mixed, cameras falling over each other through multiple openings as we stripped and changed. Turns out myself Miriam and John were all in together, within back patting distance! A few words of encouragement, swapping of supplies and I was damned if I was spending anymore time in that hot tent. Ready as I was ever going to be I ran out, not knowing what way it was going to end, just knowing that me, myself and I was going to start!

The first part of the shuttle run that leads you to the 10k loop was lined with barriers holding back the throngs. I couldn’t see anything but faces. No place to hide! Thankfully! And then, there was John Gilbert shaking the fist at me and roaring encouragement, delight on his face! 20 yards away from him was Sinead, hollers and whoops aplenty! The crowd was amazing. The barriers gave was and the pathway expanded onto the sand path of the riverbank, sheltered by trees. Handmade signs were hung from trees, kids holding them high above their heads. People had brought back the old school ghetto blasters and pumped out tunes full force. And the aid station appeared, like Willie Wonka to a child! The tables I have to say were fabulous – the started with water, iso, cola, barrels of sponges, barrels of ice (!) fruit, food, and repeated in reverse order incase some Spanish dude stopped in front of you and you missed it! And they had showers, or make shift ones – I wasn’t picky! None of us were. For fear of sounding American – they were Awesome!!! We stepped out from under the trees onto the original river bank tarmac path, into the sun. What was that I could see up ahead – a little cloud cover coming in?????!!!! And an ever so slight bit of a breeze? I was going to be positive and call it that, even if it was a tail wind of the fellas gone by in front! I could feel my mindset changing and a thread of hope was attached to it. My legs opened up and enjoyed the stretch, my ass the break form the bike – my old adamo saddle would be making a comeback I promised myself. The pace and HR were bang on what I would have wanted on a good day. The kilometres began to tick by. 5k and we were at the opposite end of the river and crossing over. Those droplets of hope and anticipation; they began to evaporate. The crowd had spread thin, my humour aswell. I hadn’t seen the rest of the Pulse crew. An image crossed my mind of them sitting in a nice air conditioned pub, cool beers at hand. I actually managed to lift myself to a new level of delirium! I tried to recall my mantras for the run. ‘Right, left, right left’ right foot left foot will take you anywhere’. Nope. Miriam’s one – ‘the race gets longer I get stronger’ – except I kept getting distracted and repeating ‘I get longer, the race gets stronger’ and getting mad that I couldn’t even get that damn sentence right’!! The sky was getting brighter and brighter and my thoughts darker and darker. Well grumpier! And out at the end of a wide open space on the river front at k8, I could see them!!!! A ray of pinkness and pulse bright, flags covering any surface the claimed their own, cool box not so hidden (jealous!!) and their hot faces sun creamed and beaming!!!! I adored them all over again!!! It lifted me higher than I ever expected. I felt like I was winning!! Even after I passed them I could still hear them – let’s face it I wasn’t going that fast! But I could feel them with me for many kilometres past their point of refuge. And not all too far ahead, back under the cover of some majestically high towering trees that formed a tunnel over our heads, was the turnaround point, and those all too coveted laps bands! Turning onto the second lap I allowed myself a pat on the back – my ‘I’ll just take it 1k as I go’ had become desolate.

Back over the bridge to start lap 2 and I was ready for the supporters. I wanted details this time!! Sinead got quizzed about Niall! I joked how he ditched our plan of doing the race together after the swim! John was able to tell me Andrea was flying it – I was hoping he was going to attain his Plan A, being used to the heat n all! Now when I say it was hot – it was HOT. I noticed my nail varnish rubbing away under my fingers! There was print on my hands – actual letters?? The print from my shot blocks had transferred off the packet onto my hand. Dammit even the shot blocks were melting!!!! We threw water over ourselves at any given stage. The legs were holding up, the engine was fine, but the thermostat was knackered!! I needed my special needs bag. I had missed the signpost on it lap 1, so asked any marshal I saw where it was – just up ahead after the first aid station – excellent! Not so excellent. It was not done in numerical order, even though the universal bags were numbered – they were all dumped on a table – all 400 of them!!!!! Goddam it Ironman!!! I thought about legging it. I directed the girl (nicely!) to start at one end and I’d start at the other. 10 bags in I’d found it. Oh the relief. I emptied it and brought everything with me – no chance I was coming back to root for that again!! Passing the guys toward the end of lap 2 was hilarious. Richie began running backwards on his heels talking to me, and stumbled and nearly fell – into the bloody river!!! All broken elbow n all!! I nearly fell over looking back over my shoulder! The cackles of the ladies could be heard 100m down the path!!

And there I had it. My icepack!! A friend in work who laughed at me after every Gaelforce, hobbling along with the DOM’s, eventually changed her laughter to concern and asked me was their nothing I could do to offset it. I’d said yes – ice it straight after a race but sure how was I going to have a fridge and an icepack handy in the middle of a field in Connemara. She disappeared and returning, introduced me to the chemical ‘crack the pack’ ready to use ice pack – my new best friend! So with Margaret’s’ ingenious brainpower, I had brought this to race day, and said a little few words in her favour! I twisted the pack, released the gloriously cool liquid back and forth in the pack and with no grace left, shoved it down my sports bra! I was now the owner of a double D rack of bounce and cool!!! And had to laugh at my new found glory!! I couldn’t wait to show them off. The water in it sloshing side to side with every step I took however may have unnerved a few lads in front of me as I managed to get a clear path for quite some time!!! Onwards I trundled. Part of me was delighted, part raging! My pace was good, but I had to stop at each aid station to cool down. I knew my times would be affected. I kept telling myself to cop on. Times were tough. I resorted to drinking coke. I had swapped my run plan of using my running belt/bottles as they only carried 150mls each. I’d gone back to my Roth plan of carrying my 500ml bottle so I could measure/control my fluid intake and add electrolytes to ensure sufficiency. The gents on the aid stations had a quick eye and a helpful hand. By lap 3, my buddy I like to call Ralph had it nailed! He’d see me coming and the hand would be out to submerge the bottle in the basin they used behind the cups of water. Passing the guys toward the end of lap 2 was hilarious. Laura pointed out how I was the only one for ages running – everyone else was walking! She ignited the fire in me again. I stopped for a second and took a second anti-sickness tablet, before taking off. She ran with me a few paces and gave me an almighty smack on the ass!! to send me on my way!!

The air was getting heavier and the road seemed longer. As I approached the end of lap 3, I assumed the Pulse crew would be heading to the finish to cheer in the top 2 of our crew, Andrea and Niall. I was delighted for them, but feared the fourth lap with no familiar faces at the river bank spot. It’s funny how you can play tricks with your mind, how you bribe yourself from point to point. As I approached them I was delighted to see them, yet saddened at the same time. Until Richie took up the run with me this time. Jogging along, shoulders back, head held high, chest puffed up like a peacock with its feathers out stating ‘You are doing Deadly’ ‘ I will be here when you come around on lap 4’ ‘I will be here and then I’ll race you to the finish line’. I couldn’t talk. I just ran. I wasn’t alone. That one comment lifted my soul for the next 10k. Pity it couldn’t have lifted my legs too 

I gained faith. I gained resilience. I picked up my head and chided my weaker inner self for relying on others to pick me up. I looked to my fellow athletes. We were all feeling it. I had been handed a spring to my step and I wanted to pass it on. A fellow to my left stopped running, mopping his brow, commenting on the heat. I offered him 2 pieces of ice if he’d run with me! He laughed and accepted. We ran about 5k together. I waved him on. I chatted to a lovely girl from Helsinki, painted white with sun cream! Turns out she was to be bridesmaid in 4 weeks and warned to not get any crazy sunburns streaks! Me too!!!! We laughed that if we could chat we had breath to run – so we did! We swapped bridesmaid stories and ironman training paths and experiences for another 4k until we passed the Pulsers for a fourth and final time! I proudly showed Richie my icepack rack, laughing I couldn’t even see my feet! He said keep it for the finisher photos! It was fabulously uplifting. That fourth lap band was exceptional. It both gave me mental strength but I could also feel my body being drained at the same time, getting ready to stop. The end was nigh.

Crossing the bridge and coming to the turn off point, I finally allowed myself to look right, to the crowds and the finisher chute. The atmosphere was electric, the crowds on fire, the noise echoing around the square. Lights beamed in all directions. I was so relieved, so drained, so proud, so exhausted. I had completed it – I had made it to the finish line. I saw those faces that I had been so happy to see all day. I stopped – I think! I don’t quite remember. If I could slow down any part of the day it would be that part. I could see them all, hear them all. The lights were flashing in my face, the beat of the music vibrating through my body. I had a Pulse flag in my hand. I draped it around me and made for the finish line, tingling all the way to my toes, punching the air with both hands.

If I had had any tears left they would have poured down my face!! I crossed the line – rather I didn’t see a line and kept running. A lady asked me had I done the race – I said yes – she turned me around and told me to go back and get my medal! I’d ran straight through them!! I sat down on a perch and watched others come in. Inside the athletes garden was a paddling pool of cool water. I sat in it for what felt like eternity. Survivor mode kicked in. I needed to wash and eat, in that order. I made for the shower, and gave myself a pat on the back for packing a nutrigrain in my recovery bag. Halfway through the shower I had to sit down for a break (warning sign) I dressed quickly, made for the food tent, got a plate and went to sit outside at the picnic tables facing all the other tents. Miriam strolled by and joined me. She had gotten her medal engraved at the tent to our right. I pulled out money to copy her and felt like someone pulled the plug on me! Game over. I sat down on the ground – I wasn’t after doing an Ironman in 40 degree heat to faint and go home with a head injury! Ok so Nurse hat on – most likely cause dehydration and low sugars. I asked Miriam to go for water and a load of sugar, and took my pulse. I wished I hadn’t. I could feel the life zapping out of me. I closed my eyes and waited for her, unable to open my eyes to the chitchat of polite strangers in different languages. The lady on the other end of the bench had swung it closer for me to rest my back against it. I opened my eyes hearing Miriams’ voice and 4 hobnail boots were with her and a stretcher. I poured the sugar into 2 inches of water and necked it. I recognised the lady as being in charge and did a mini handover on myself – pulse was very weak and thready, I’d taken over 15 litres fluid between bike and run, but not pee’d since the second hour of the bike. I had been very good with salts and electrolytes. And felt like shit. I had tingles going up my hands into my forearms and was nauseated. I was stretchered to the medical tent, delighted to be able to close my eyes and not worry. I was off duty (!) They tried to get a line in. They couldn’t. I was shutdown. Nothing was working. Extra help was called for. Still no success. The girl at my head was shouting that I was going cold. I told them to go for my feet – my veins were good there. The guy working on my left arm said the feet would be sore- he’d prefer my arm. I told him I’d done an Ironman – that hurt more!!! Success, at last. And the fluids were replenished. My sugar level was a whopping high 17. In hindsight this was a stress sugar. I was just relieved they didn’t check my lactate. I didn’t want to know. Miriam popped in. I told her to go on about her aftermath and I’d phone when I was released. I had a wee snooze. I could see it was dark outside. I wondered about the crew. I had wanted to go join the fun at the finish line, cheers others in, see all sides of the race. I laughed to myself. My Plan B for race day was avoid the medical and get to the finish line – well I had, hadn’t I? Technically I ended up in the tent after the race which doesn’t count!! Laura burst through the door, all full of hugs and concern. Concern for my wellbeing and concern I was missing the party – girl after my own heart!! I asked her how she had gotten into the athletes enclosure – NO ONE gets in!!! She, in true Laura fashion, declared to the bouncer, quite upset at being questioned, and ‘matter of factly’ ‘that she was my sister and had received as my next of kin, an urgent phone call from the head of them medical tent, requesting that she come to me immediately. When he went to question her further, as scuffle broke out to her right and she made a break for it and climbed the barrier!!!! Go Laura!!! The drip finished, the medical officer asked me did I want anymore fluids Oh God the thought process went into over drive; Don’t ask me do I want more!! – of course I don’t want one!! Do I need it – yes – Do I want it – No! My friends are off celebrating in a pub. I’m not!!! It’s dark. I bargained with myself and did a quick top to toe – I was no longer feeling nauseated, so I could do the fluids orally myself. The pins and needles up the arms was gone – I could get calcium into me via milk. So I thanked them all kindly for their work and made for freedom.

We found my bag, and made for the door, and for the restaurant the guys were at. Until Laura validly pointed out we had to collect my bike. I say ‘we’. She was really in charge and I was just following her. Not because she was bossy – just because I had nothing! Body nor mind! She argued her way into the bike transition. I was in awe!! Me, toddling along behind her like a duckling. We collected my bags and made for the party. I was unsure whether she knew where she was going – ask her about the airport she flew to 😉 Lol She came good! We arrived and I was engulfed with hugs and kisses and joined in the party like I’d never been missing. And so the group was reunited, Siobhan, Clare, John, Richie, Andrea – looking fresh as a daisy, a tired daisy mind! Laura and Kevin. Miriam had joined her family and the boys who had hung on her every movement all day. A space was made and drinks were replenished and the banter was brilliant. The kitchen was closed but the waitress took one look at the sorry picture I was and came back with a massive plate of chips and a pint of coke!! Another German I would have kissed had I the energy! The medal was hanging around my neck, banging off my stomach like a brick, making me queezy. I freed it up and passed it around the table for its lap of honour. It felt fabulous, to just sit, and be. It was fascinating to listen to the day from all the different angles, all the different stories. Eventually after 1 am we made for home. Siobhan this time pushed my bike and my belongings home for me. We gradually waved each other off and narrowed down to 4. I knew without having been told Siobhan and Clare were scoping out Frankfurt in search of the home of their first Ironman. I cried on her shoulder and pleaded with her to reconsider this one. It had been so damn hard. There were better options, cooler climates, different times of the year – why had I thought July would be anything but hot?! Pick October I begged – pick Barcelona – Goddam it pick Galway!!! In true Siobhan style, she let me moan, held her head high, bit her lip, stuck her chin out and kept quiet, walked me to my door and said she would see me tomorrow, to sleep well.

At 4 am I woke up – and pee’d. I thanked the stars my kidneys hadn’t taken a hit. I woke at 6 am also. Why oh why isn’t there a switch to turn off the body aswell as the mind. My legs were buzzing yet drained, my stomach starving but sickly, my mind racing at 200kph, my body at about 1kph. I had some of my food stash perfectly placed for such an occasion – ambrosia rice pots and electrolytes in miwadi on the bedside locker ! Shy of 7am Miriam texted, she was suffering itchy leg syndrome aswell. Down for brekkie we went, but it was short lived. The post Ironman stomach is unpredictable! The text went out and we converged outside a little café in the oldtown. I was last to join the group of John, Laura, Kevin, Richie and Andrea. The regailing began, information flowed. We had missed the news in the German papers ( what with not reading papers and speaking German) The town council had wanted to pull the race in the week leading up to it with regard to the temperatures and the health and safety fears. Ironman responded with their contingency plan – which was announced at the briefing. It nearly hadn’t happened. The numbers completing the race had been vastly reduced on other years – there was a 35% DNF/DNS rate. There was to be one fatality. An Australian age grouper, who finished the race under 12 hrs and collapsed soon thereafter, died in ICU a few days later of hypervolaemic hyponatraemia. His salt water balance wasn’t adequate, too much water/too little salt. It essentially caused swelling everywhere, causing irreversible brain damage and death. The weight of the day hit home. We were thankful that we were so lucky.

I noticed Siobhan and Clare were surprisingly absent. They had gone to sign up for Ironman 2016! I laughed. What could I say now, that I didn’t last night. I couldn’t go back on my words. I wouldn’t anyway! It was still raw. I congratulated them on their decision, laughed at Siobhan that she had the stubborn streak necessary to get her to the finish line. They had cheered Sandi Wiebe from Boulder Colorado, when she went up to collect her age group prize and claim her place in Kona! She since went onto complete yet another World Championship in just over 16 hours! The phone was hopping. The messages brought such smiles. The day was lovely and calm, and the pace slow. We moved from coffee house to coffee house. And said goodbye to Laura and Kevin – they didn’t even get to stay for the proper night out!! I was in awe and indebted to their level of commitment to supporting their friends.

Day 2 post Ironman was spent under a parasol at a restaurant by the river. The supporters were hiring bikes to go see the town! The irony!! I was trying to be still, quiet and cool. The heat owned my soul. I gave up and took up position and urged them to come get me when they were done! Tell me all about it! Eventually we all made our way to the airport and home. We dispersed and went our separate ways, their faces etched into the refection of my medal, never to be forgotten.

Three days into my homecoming, I got the itch again. What if it hadn’t been so hot? What time could I have done? Could I have run faster? Yes – in that heat – No! How could I have trained differently? I had crossed the line in 13.02 and a bit! I had beaten my Roth time by over half an hour, despite the heat. And so I signed up, for the same race, in the same place, the next year! I waited until a week after coming home when I met Siobhan in person at swim to tell her I was joining her! And the other 20 odd Pulsers who had answered the call!

Ironman Frankfurt 2016.
Vengeance is nigh!!!

Lessons learned;

Buying a TT only 7 weeks out will land you on difene for back pain after the race!

Learn to run without music – mimic race day. My tired self could only muster the words to ‘why do you build up, Buttercup baby just to let me down’ – chorus – for the entire run! Still, strangely, I did find it uplifting and still smile when I hear it!

Know your watch! I through mistake in T1, had to reset my watch – and lost my total time – I was minutes away form my 12 hr zone goal without knowing!

Wear the club strip – fellow Irish on the course recognise it and they become your travelling family too! Plus, ‘Pulse’ is an international word and many cheer you on using it. The new strip especially is instantly recognisable at 200m – use those cheers!!! Stand out!!

Train hard! Race day is lap of honour for your training. Don’t cut corners!