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Pictures with thanks to Doug B
and Phil W Les Merci’s
Beaucoups Thank
You's are normally left to the end. Not in this article however because their
is a chance that you, the reader, might skip it, so i ain't giving you that
opportunity. To
my Parents a special thanks.You are fantastic! Although I never saw my mum on
the day just knowing she was there was enough. I later heard she cried both
at the start and at the finish.Well Mum, that’s your job. I have no doubt you
were terrified at the beginning of the swim and were deeply proud at the end,
so thanks again. When
we were growing up my dad used to refer to my mum, tongue in cheek, as the
Iron lady in deference to Margaret Thatcher and how tough she was. Well now
we have another Iron Lady in the family in the shape of my sister Dor. To
Dad, I know the only thing stopping you from doing an Ironman is the knees. I
also know that you have spent 40 years doing a different type of Ironman in
the mountains of Nepal, India Argentina and China. Perhaps it was this that
motivated Dor and I to begin with. To
all our supporters who travelled at considerable expense. To Brian, Caroline,
Lenny, Sonia, Brian and Kathleen, to Siobhan and Roland. To Marie Louise,
Orla , Dave and Amanda and to the Paul
Daniel's assistants' who mysteriously appeared from thin air in Nice in the
shape of Doug, Philip and Paul. Until you do an Ironman you will never know
just what your presence meant to the 3 of us. A special mention to both Eabha
and Hannah, our youngest supporters, thanks for persuading your parents to
take you. Thanks
to Tom, Kate and Mary for all the fantastic support from Mullingar and
Toronto, to Austeja and
to the many many many people who sent text messages and who monitored our
progress on the internet. It meant so much to know you were rooting for us.
To my siblings once again for organising a surprise party on our return, to
all who turned up to the party and special mention to Seamus Bracken for
efforts beyond the call of duty. A
very special thanks to Neil Hammond www.neilhammond.com
(a brilliant Ironman website by the way).This guy does 3 Ironman triathlons
EVERY YEAR. Neil, for all the absolutely brilliant advice over the past 3-4
months a very big thank you. I look forward to kicking your ass some day!! Thanks
to Damien for the loan of a bike I simply couldn't afford and also thanks to
the 4 people who gave us a loan of the bike cases. Lastly
is our mentor, motivator, counsellor, mechanic, baggage handler, lover (to
Dor not me) confidante, advisor and all round gentleman..... Enda Munnelly, Un Grand Merci Beaucoup ! Introduction This write up is quite long. I don't
care. I know you have ready many before and your probably saying oh
bloody hell, we only want to hear the shortened version. Well sorry their
isn't one so put on the kettle and read on.... At
the start it is important to keep what we did in context. This
is not a super human feat as some have called it. The difficulties that we
faced during the 22 June 2008 were at all times well within our capacity to
endure. It is vital not to lose sight that this pain was insignificant,
controlled and I always knew temporary. Important because so many people go
through real pain. Real pain is not having food to eat or being paralysed.
Real pain is not having the health to do an Ironman in the first place. Never
forget this. We were the fortunate ones!! Thursday At
0245, yes you did read that correctly, at 0245 my alarm went off. Out of the
nest, into the shower, text the taxi driver, collect the parents, meet the
little sis and the mighty mechanic, maintenance worker, baggage handler,
mentor, confidante etc To the airport we went. Nice bound ! At
the airport we met up with Ironman Virgins Joe Holton (Clonard) Pat O Hara (Multyfarnham)
and Malcolm Craig (Sligo). In tow were Ironmen veterans Sonia and Brian. In
addition spouses Caroline and Lenny as well as Yvonne and Orla (Favourite
sister in law) and Marie Louise (The Doc) and not forgetting two very special
ladies who brought their own mode of transport ie Eabha and Hannah (both
Ironman veterans at this stage) Arriving
in Nice we felt like General De Gaul and his entourage, without the waiting
limousines. After considerable transportation difficulties we managed to
locate our accommodation and finally get a chance to relax. In
the pm, we went down to the Exhibition to register. Met an Irish chap called
Tom O Gorman in the queue. Turns out he competes in the Tri to Beat in
Mullingar each year. Great rival of Ray Campbells. Thursday evening was spent generally
chilling and an early night was the order of the day. Friday Friday
0815 rendezvous down at the swim . Few butterflies starting to fester at this
stage. Spotted Jan Sibberson in the
“Sail Fish” wetsuit area down water side. He of 44 min 47 secs world record
iron man swim fame ! In
the afternoon we decided to do a recce of the bike course. Joe had not had
the chance to see the course before so off we set. Joe, Enda,Yvonne, Dad, Dor
and myself. All packed into a lovely
comfortable Citreon C 5 or so we thought. 3 and a half hours later we emerged from “la voiture”
sick, overheated, disillusioned, tired and a little downhearted. Why? Both
Dor and I had managed to come out a month previous and do the bike course but
this was Joes first opportunity to see it. You could see the blood draining
from his face. His mood too changed. I felt bad for him but tried to reassure
him that all was not as it seemed. It didn't seem that difficult on the day
we did it. What I had forgotten was that we had done it in a relaxed state
taking 10 hours on a calm, not to hot May morning, unlike the fire and
furnace that Sunday would bring... More anon!! Saturday Saturday
was largely uneventful. Went for a
quick and very easy 25 min jog with Joe along the promenade at about 0730.
During the morning we checked, rechecked, rechecked, and rechecked our gear.
Joe was first to depart to drop his gear off. It was, I remarked, like going
into the Leaving Cert exam hall knowing that once you went in through the
door their was no going back. We
all asked each other the most stupid
of questions about gear, chaffing, bars, hats, stuff we knew all the answers
too but I guess that we were trying not to forget something ridulcously
obvious like a wetsuit, a bike or a
pair of runners perhaps. You get the drift! Had
to queue to enter the transition for about 30 mins. While waiting Enda went
for a quick spin to check my bike, leaving me with Anyway
I did say the day was largely uneventful, that is until we got the shock of
our lives over dinner when to our astonishment a mirage appeared in the guise
of Philip, Doug and Paul. What a shock. We were thrilled to see them of
course. It gave us a huge lift. SUNDAY !!! Early
to bed once more, retiring at about 2100. Unlike the others I managed to get
a fantastic nights sleep dozing off at about 2230 and not waking until 0345.
This was a bonus as I had presumed and allowed for only getting about 2-3
hours at best. I woke up feeling great. I had to go and wake the 3 sleeping
beauties (yes Joe and Enda you are beautiful too!!) Its
amazing what goes through your head at this time. Its was pitch dark outside.
Late night revellers still roam the streets. The stupid questions come out of
our mouths again. Had a bowl of lovely Kelkin muesli with banana as well as
bread and tea, just the job. I recall John Reilly warning me not to over eat
at this time. He suffered in Ironman UK 2007 because of this. Left the apartment at 0450 and headed into
the unknown. As
we reached the transition an amazing irony unfolded in front of us. We passed
by literally hundreds of young people still sitting on the beach, Heineken,
cigarettes, guitars still in hand. Some were sober, some were not. Some were
drunk, some were very drunk and yet just a few hundreds yards away was the
other extreme. 2,500 finely honed and incredibly fit athletes about to embark
on, for most, the pinnacle of their sporting careers. Perhaps 5 years ago I
might have belonged with the former although I never could play the guitar! Into
transition, pump the tyres being careful to leave plenty of air capacity for
the mid day sun to expand. Quick loo stop and before we knew it we were being
summonsed to the execution sorry event. Spotted Doug,Yvonne, Phil and Paul as
well as Siobhan. Bade them farewell and on we went. Joe,
Dor and I decided to go in the 1 hour swim coral in order to hopefully get a
good draft off the better swimmers. We
were all ready to go at 0615 lined up orange headed penguins. I must confess
that I never felt as calm about anything in my life. With hindsight I would
rather have been more nervous. Here we were about to compete in an event that
most think impossible and it was like a Friday swim at the diving boards back
home. Even Brian Boyle (aka The Exam Principal!) was watching but still I wasn't nervous. The
race referee paraded on a jetski in front of us and told us by way of hand
signals how long was feft. 3 mins, 2 mins, 1 min, 30 seconds, and then TROIS!
DEUX! UN! ALLEZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The Race La Nager (3.8km) What does 2500
swimmers corralled into a 100 metre area all vying for the same space feel
like ? I have heard it described as being akin to
being on the inside of a washing machine. This is extremely accurate,
except they forgot to throw in Mike
Tyson, Barry Mc Guigan (1985 version)
John Cena (Yes nephew Mark your hero.. of WWF fame) as well as 6 kick boxing
occupusses.......It was ridiculous!. Where
was my beautiful stroke I had carved out over months of carefully considered
training, the masterful breathing technique I had practised, the extended
follow through to gain maximum distance. Fuck that! Brute force was the only
thing that would get me through this... Don't worry it won't last, I thought to
myself……………….. I was wrong! Nothing
prepares you for this. I wrestled, jostled, belted, fisted, punched and
dragged with the best of them and LOST !! What the hell. Just as I was
getting used to it I exited for the first time. 2400 metres done, 1400 to go.
Back in for one more spin cycle in the washing machine. Not as bad but only a
little. Anyway not to worry soon it would be over. During
the swim I had been very careful not to exert myself. Everyone seemed to be
worried about this up to race day including me I might add but I listened
carefully to each concerned speaker and especially to Philip who had told me
that 2 weeks previous in Bala, Wales during a half ironman he had started at
100 mph only to have to stop after 500 metres to stop his heart exploding. Anyway
I exited in 1'06 bang on target and
feeling fantastic. Quick spotting of Caroline as well as Paul and Phil and
Marie Louise and off I went to find “la bicyclete”... Entering
transition I couldn't believe the number of people who had finished ahead of
me. (669 to be exact) It was so busy I couldn't find a vacant chair in which
to sit for a quick change of attire. Not to worry, do it standing up. Socks
on, shoes on, helmet and gloves, wetsuit into the bag and off I trotted
briskly. La Bicyclete (180 km) Dumped
the bike bag into relevant place and started the long run to find the bike.
Grabbed my steed and headed out mounting as I exited. Just then I heard my
sunglasses fall onto the ground. Thank heavens. If I hadn't heard them,
I may well have lost them. This would have
been a disaster as I would have struggled enormously in the sun for the
following 10-11 hours or so. Blessing in disguise I thought as I dismounted
and picked them off the ground. The
first 20 km of the cycle was very flat, largely uneventful and all about
settling into a nice rhythm. Mission accomplished I decided to ignore the
firsd aid station. As I passed I unravelled my first of many power bars.
During the training I had come to actually really like them. On this occasion
however it tasted not so nice. Not to worry I thought. At
the end of the first 20 km their is a very nasty 500 m climb. We had been
well warned about this and I was expecting it. Good job as nobody else seemed
to be. It was much more difficult than in training largely because it was a
very narrow climb barely, 5 metres wide and given that it was full of
cyclists most of whom were wobbling side to side it made navigation very
difficult. I
struggled big time to stay up on the bike and pushed the lowest gear ratio
available. It took every ounce of strength to get me through this but
thankfully it was over as quick as it had started. Heart rate jumped from
probably 140-180 in the space of a few seconds but that would do no harm. Over
the next 40 km or so we passed through Gattiere, Saint Jannet,Vence,
Torrettes Sur Loupe,Bar Sur Loupe and into Chataneuf De Grasse. (All stunning
mountain villages). We were now entering what they call in boxing parlance
“The Main Event of The Evening” as far as the bike course was concerned. The
main climb is 21 km in total distance. It is broken into 4 stages of 6 km, 3
km, 4 km and finally an ardous 8km.
The first stage has seemed relatively ok when we had tested it in May.
Not today. The temperature, like the gradient, had started to climb. 28
degrees, 29 degrees 30 and finally topping off at 34 YES 34 DEGREES!!! 6
km in and out of Bar sur Loupe, we spotted Doug, Phil, Marie Louise and Paul.
Great to see them. Gave Paul a big high 5 as I passed. Must say whilst I
really felt like I was working I nevertheless felt great at this point. I met
them just as we started the 2nd stage of the climb. A nasty 3 k
with a slope of 7%. The sun created a cauldron of fire all around us.
Surrounded by slowing cyclists but no one daring tospeak. It would be foolish
to do so as it would expend unnecessary energy that needed to be stored away
for the afternoon and evening onslaught to come. This
part of the course is simply stunning. Whilst we didn't get to see much of it
I knew it was there and appreciated it nonetheless. Into Gourdon and a final
left hand turn to begin the 8 km climb to Col De Lecre.(our highest point)
This was simply relentless exhaustion. I happily let a number of riders pass
me out and indeed passed a few myself. Those winters Saturday mornings spent
down in Co Offaly doing the “Cut” climb over and over again were paying off.
It was tough but I managed it nonetheless. The
climb is made all the harder because you can see a mile in front of you for a
lot of the time. A line of cyclists meandered down the mountainside pied
piper like in appearance. Comfort was gathered from looking back down the
mountain at the hundreds of cyclists who still had to navigate what I had
just done. I though of Dor and Joe at this point (assuming Joe was behind me
which I wasn't actually sure off. )At the top of Col De Lecre and with a 6%
of climb behind you, you feel a massive sense of achievement. You are at the
highest point of the climb here. You
do still have 9 km of climbing to do but it is broken up and not quite as
severe. This fucking ironman challenge is not getting the better of me, I
thought to myself. Ignoring the Special Needs I had no regrets
at this point about not having a welcome snack. That’s for wimps I thought to
myself... The
next 30 km or so were uneventful but offered a beautiful landscape nonetheless.
At all times I was conscious of not losing concentration for a split second. Soon
after we began a blissful 12 km downhill which was utter heaven given the
brutality we had experienced for the previous 2 hours or so. I
was managing the nutrition only ok. I had ignored my 20 min eating rule a few
times but was taking on board massive amounts of liquid. 1000 ml plus,
between each aid station. As I later found out to my pain I was probably
taking on to much water and not enough sports drink. For those of you who
wonder why this makes such a difference (I wouldn't have known 12 months ago
either) you must replace salt excreted with a replacement salt. Water, whilst
helping to rehydrate the body is actually a hindrance to maintaining high
salt levels in the body as it dilutes existing levels. Anyway into Greolieres and a gentle decent
with some quite nasty hairpin bends to negotiate. Heading
into Coursegoules we had a quick out and back 10 km. It gave me a good idea
of how many cyclists were ahead of me. I couldn't believe so many were ahead
but I was comforted on the return 5 km by how many more were behind. It
was at this point that I encountered pain, real pain, for the first time. It
came in the form of massive cramping from both knees downwards. During
training I had never ever experienced cramping and I was shocked that this
was happening now. I searched my brain for an reason as well as a solution
but nothing came back. I stood up on the bike and stretched as best I could
whilst doing 22 mph on this fast section, but the pain continued. For the
first time (and thankfully only briefly) I thought about possibly not
finishing. I recall however not being panicked about this. If it was a
physical rather than a mental reason for a “DNF” I could cope with that. Just
at the end of this 10 km loop to my utter astonishment I spotted the best
supporters in the World again. (Doug, Philip, Paul and ML) I gave them a big
smile (I think) and a thumbs up that all was ok even though it wasn't .I
recall in Bala during a half ironman watching the same guys, some wretched in
pain and I was determined not to go down this road (excuse the pun) as it may
have led me to think negatively something I was determined not to do. A quick yet severe 2 km climb into
Coursegoules and a gentle decent shortly after and heading towards the The
Forest
is a 7 km climb up to Cote De Saint Pons with a slope of about 4%. It is
what IM France veteran Neil Hammond
calls “The Doctor” It is here he says, that you get to find out what shape
you are really in. If
you have gone to hard then you will suffer greatly as it offers no respite,
except for some shelter from the fast approaching mid day sun. I recall
during this climb rechristening it “open heart surgery” although with the
passage of time, the pain I experienced here has dissipated from my memory. I
had a very nasty lapse in concentration here. I momentarily lost
concentration and when I looked up I was heading for the side of the road.
This would not have been to bad except that a 100 ft drop awaited me if I had
not looked up. I can assure you I gave myself quite a talking too. (Not
printable) On this climb I noticed a banner that an attractive lady had left
roadside to cheer someone on. It read “Remember pain is temporary but success
is forever” I took great heart from this and recalled it many times over the
next 4 or 5 hours. At
the top of this you might laugh but the hard work for the cycle is mostly
over. Yes you do still have an hefty 60 km still to cycle but the only pain
left is the heavy pain of concentration. The
remainder is a series of descents meandering continuously around very nasty
bends which must be treated with the utmost of respect. To lose concentration
would not have a pleasant outcome. One
section has a 35 km decent. It sounds great but the reality is that you
cannot go at the desired speed because their are simply to many dangerous
bends to navigate. I descended and descended passing and being passed
constantly by the same 5 or 6 bunch of riders. Back
down on the flats I felt a lot safer that the dangerous work was now behind
me. For those of you reading this Ironman France (and I am not saying this
because I did it) is the most stunning but probably the most technical of all
the Ironman bike courses. It really requires concentration of the highest
level. I cannot remember going faster that 52 kph purely because of the
severity of the descents.. To experienced cyclists this might sound cowardly.
Tell that to the 1700 riders who finished the bike section behind me... Back
on the flats the cramps continued and I stretched as much as I could. It was
at this stage that my feet started to hurt like hell. Dear reader I am not
looking for sympathy here. It simply is fact. I guess the heat was playing a
part. Both feet were in extreme pain for the past 20 km. This 20 km goes on
forever. You have been working for 5-6 hours at this point and your only
thoughts are (believe it or not) bliss that now you can get off the bike and
instead can run a marathon. As we entered Nice, the pain massively
intensified. I was in serious pain now but certainly never entertained
thoughts of not being able to finish. As you enter the last 5 km you pass the
run route. I was astonished at the number of athletes already running and
distinctly remember a momentary feeling of negativity enter my mind. They had
1 or possibly 2 loops of the run done and here was I still on the bike. As
I dismounted I heard a familiar cheer from the crowd. I turned around to see
my father yelling encouragement in my direction. At the same time my legs
touched terra firma for the first time in 6 hours and 20 minutes. It
was at this time that I had my second trial of the day , one I thought
momentarily, I would not recover from. My legs had completely seized up. The
bike fell over and in my head I
screamed with pain. I was stuck rigid to the ground. My legs were frozen
solid and riddled with cramps. My
mind raced. My Dad looked on and screamed encouragement. Just then a cyclist
suffering from similar travails fell over completely. Masochistically I
actually gained some encouragement from this. At least I was still standing.
I walked 2 maybe 3 steps and just then I received the most enthuastic yell of
“Come on Gerry” from a complete stranger in the crowd. (My name was on the
bib) I cannot describe what this did but suffice to say it focussed my mind
back on 100% to the job in hand. I
walked slowly into transition monitoring every inch of ground progressed. Ok,
at least I can move again. This is great I thought. NOW FOR THE Passing
the bike to a female volunteer I started to gently jog towards the transition
tent. As I entered the tent I knew somehow I was fine again and my mind
turned totally positive once more. I opened my “Run” bag and took out the
running attire required for the 26 miles that awaited. It
was at this point that I made my second mistake of the day. The first had
been to take on to much water on the bike. The 2nd was to ignore
the two sachets of dioralyte (salt) in my run bag. Stupid, Stupid, Stupid!! My
logic was that I had not practised taking salt tablets in training. They had
only been suggested to me the week before by Neil Hammond. How wrong I was to
ignore this advice. La Courir (42.195km) The
marathon runs along the famous Promenade Des Anglais. It is an out and back
course of 4 laps each lap measuring 10.5 km, broken into halves of 5.25 km.
First thing I noticed was that I immediately started to pass out scores of
runners. Great I thought, now we are down to my favourite discipline. For
months, I had thought methodically about my pace for this first loop and had
planned a 26-27 minute turnaround for the first 5.25 km. I turned in 25.30
but already I was starting to suffer heavily. My stomach was in turmoil as it
was full of power bars, PowerAde, bananas and a gel which I had taken on the
bike. I
knew from here on I would have to stop and walk. This was something that I
had at no stage planned for, and I had no idea how to react. It was at this point
that I decided to let nature take its course and I nipped behind a nearby
tree, out of view of the spectators. I didn't have an incredible urge to go,
it just felt like something to do to stimulate some other brain activity from
the onslaught of pain the rest of my body was experiencing. I started walking
in km 6 and did so for amount 300-400 metres before jogging again at a very
slow pace. My one loop split I recall was 1'03,(which had meant a return leg
of 37 or 38 minutes) massively slower that I had planned. It was the salt or
lack of it that was now taking its toll. My stomach was extremely sick at
this point and the thoughts of consuming a gel a bar or anything except a
banana revolted me. My stomach was on the ground floor and no elevator was coming
to bring it back up to first. I
soldiered on thru lap two but I was physically a wreck at this point. A 1' 03
first lap turned into a 1'09 second. This was only going one way I thought.
At this stage I was walking as much as I was running but was quite happy just
to do so. I never considered that I wouldn't finish, I had long accepted that
I would have to mix this strategy but my hoped for 11'30 ish finishing time
was now gone out the door. No matter I thought, I still had 6-7 hours to run,
walk, perhaps crawl the remaining 15 or so miles. The heat engulfed us,
thought I must confess I never felt this a concern. I was well attired in
short clothes, had gallons of cream rubbed in (thanks for some great tips on
this again Neil) and I even ignored the opportunity to get a water shower
from the volunteers out of fear of getting blisters. Lap
3 was equally tough. At this stage it was sheer brutality. My stomach
churned, I wanted to throw up so much, as I felt this might offer some
relief. I picked up a slice of brown bread type substance but it was hard and
I threw it away just as quick. By
now I had worked out where each of our invaluable supporters had positioned
themselves on the course. It was fantastic to have them at different places.
Unlike my sister Dor, I was unable to muster a smile as each cheer greeted me
but I was so grateful for their support and did acknowledge with a wave each
and every time I saw them. They were magnificent one and all and I know they
all suffered in the heat given their stationery positioning for many hours !! Lenny,
Paul ,Caroline and Brian Ivory get Olympic Medals fro the enormous roars they
gave me. Thanks guys. Also cheering with equal fortitude were My Parents,
Brian B and Kathleen, Siobhan and Roland, Yvonne, Dave and Amanda, Sonia ,
Marie Louise, Phil, Doug, Eabha and Hannah (Both future Ironkids I'm sure!!) Lap
3 was by now a walk run walk strategy. I was in good company though as 90% of
the field by now had adopted a similar strategy. I am unsure what my ratio
was but I would estimate that I walked at least 6-7 miles of the 26. It was
on this lap that I met Joe. He caught up with me whilst I was shuffling along
on one of my many walks. His mood was sombre at best and it was very apparent
that he was equally as drained as I was. I was taken aback to see that he had
one less wristband on than I, indicating that I was a lap ahead of him. He
told me that he had had a very hard time on the bike. I empathised . Over the
next hour or so, I passed him and he passed me continously. It was obvious he
was as beaten up as I. Enda
had long before told me that Dor was safely in from the bike and it was
around now that I spotted her for the first time. This lady (my sister) is a
revelation. 2 years ago in the middle of a 15 mile cycle she had to give up
and call Enda to come and collect her. Here she was the other side of the run
loop with a big wave, a big cheer and a smile as wide as your arm for me. She
is truly incredible. As she describes herself she is a plodder, she just
plods along and does her own thing at her own pace. I waved but simply did
not have the energy to mouth a response. The 5 metres that separated us would
have required to much energy for me at that time to shout anything
meaningful. Each
lap ended with a volunteer giving you a wristband to acknowledge how many
laps you had done or more importantly how many were left. Black was gold as
this indicated just one more to go. With
the third band safely around my wrist I commenced the last lap with a walk of
100 metres. The legs were almost gone, the body a wreck, but the heart and
mind were both 100 %. Looking back, I am amazed at how mentally alert I was
for the entire day. With the exception of perhaps a few seconds I never
dipped for a minute. It is of this I am very proud. All through the pain of
the run I never doubted my ability to focus or indeed to finish. Lap
4 was as tough as the 3 before. Between two aid stations I set myself a mini
goal of running completely to the next feed station a distance of perhaps
1000 metres I recall mentally to myself that to accomplish this would be as
great as the Ironman itself. I focused on this for about two minutes but it
soon became clear that I would have to walk again. No matter at least I was a
little bit closer to finishing. Enda
appeared around about the final turn for home and offered huge encouragement.
I asked him to stay close by for the last 5km but asked him not to speak as I
was incapable of carrying on any conversation. His support at that time was
invaluable. He could see the physical wreck I was and for some strange reason
that was important to me. At the turn I met Malcolm, we chatted briefly
before he headed off into the distance eventually finishing 3 minutes ahead
of me. The
last 5 km was ok if the truth be told. It seemed to take an eternity but I
scarcely minded as I knew I was almost home. Enda was there all the way on
the bike, on the phone, on the camcorder. A serious, serious thank you to him
He was amazing and I will never ever forget his support on that last 5.25 km.
Approaching
the finish line my mind didn't well up, I didn't get emotional, didn't get
flashbacks to all the training or efforts over the past 6 months. Iwas just
so glad to finish. For the last 100 metres down the finishing chute the
crowds were great. I high fived as many as I could including a big gang on
the left hand side from Midland Tri. Over the line in 12 Hours 18 minutes I
was presented with my medal. I immediately spotted two large black bins and
headed straight for them to throw up. That was all that was uppermost in my
mind. I failed to do so but thankfully this was slightly better than the
thoughts of throwing up in full view of thousands of spectators. Apres Match I
went into the athlete’s area and lay on the grass for 20 minutes or so. Their
was an eerie silence here. No mad chatter, no cheers of congratulations. I
guess it was because in this area, their were only competitors, no family or
friends. We were all simply too tired!! A
15 min massage turned into in excess of an hour as I had cramp in every inch
of my legs. The masseuse looked on in utter astonishment at my lack of
ability to bend my legs even the tiniest amount. He tried everything and I
must admit I felt at least 50% better leaving. When
I was finished I apologised for taking up so much of his time and headed out
to hopefully catch Dor finishing. I met Joe parked on a bench. The poor guy
looked exhausted although thankfully soon after he was back to his normal
self. When
I got back out I met Dave, Amanda and Orla at the finish line. They told me
Dor had about 20 minutes left to go. I went out to cheer her on and shortly
after spotted her with Enda in tow like the Lone Ranger on his bike shouting
and roaring encouragement in her direction. To my astonishment I was able to
run again and I did so for about 500 metres, Enda along side, and cheered Dor
towards the finish line. She savoured every moment of the finish and once
again had a fantastic grin on her face whilst crossing the line. Well done
Dor a magnificent 14 Hours 30 Minutes. In
addition as mentioned Malcolm finished in 14’15, Joe in 13’46 and Pat O' Hara
a fellow Mullingar man in 14’06, all previously Ironman Virgins but now
champions one and all. A
quick trip to Mc Donald’s where we met up with Brian and the rest of the
gang. Then we headed back to the finish line to watch the last and best half
an hour of finishers. These are the most amazing of athletes having been out
for in excess of 15.5 hours. Just think about that for a second. That’s TWICE
a full working day, and WITH NO LUNCH OR TEA BREAK! They crossed the line
with as much enthusiasm as the winner Marcel That
night Marie Louise performed a miracle by way of an IV. Towards the end of it
I felt very sick. I lay on the bed and the next thing I knew it was Monday Monday
was spent lazing on the beach brushing up on the tan and beating yes beating
Phil, Paul and Enda (the King of water sports) as the only man left hanging
onto the water speed rings . I was the only one who didn't fall into the
water!! I am an Ironman after all... Later
that evening our joy turned to sadness as word got around that two athletes
who had started were tragically never to come home. At the time of writing
this, this has not been confirmed but it does appear to be true. Our hearts
go out to both families and our prayers too. To think that these people left
their homes a week previous just like us and would never come home is deeply
deeply sad. Ar theis go raibh a anam... Au Revoir To
finish I would have to say I enjoyed almost every minute of the last 6
months. It was worth every ounce of energy expended. I would encourage anyone
to do an Ironman but would not try and talk anyone into it. It is a decision to
be made alone. The
funny things is that most people reading this have already decided in their
minds that it is an impossible feat for them to accomplish. Nothing
and I mean nothing could be further from the truth. I am not superman, I am
not Super fit, and I managed it. If you are
considering it. Stop! Get onto an Ironman website and register. YOU WILL NOT
REGRET IT. If you think it is beyond you, Tell that to the guy who did Ironman France
2008 with only one arm!!! Quote
of the week by my Dad “You rise at All you have to look forward
to............................... ...IS A
F**KING Gerry Duffy |
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