Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Funny Half Ironman training tips!!!

***ABSOLUTE Gold***.. One of the funniest half ironman training tips I've come across!!!
Courtesy - Transitions.org.au

Maybe I'll need to follow it in Canberra this December!!

Are you new to this long course caper? Are you fat, slow, un-trained, un-motivated or maybe you only have a single digit VO2 max? Remember, half the population has above average genetics and physiology for long course racing, the other half could be you. Got a tough race coming up in just a few days time? If any of this sounds like you, then maybe you could benefit from Otter's tips for tough days. You won’t read any HTFU Bullshot here, just our patented "Slow but Steady' finish techniques from Otter's Institute for BOP'ers or OIFBOPer's for short. The following is a brief summary and a few thoughts and techniques that might help you through the day.

Firstly, my credentials:
- Have never completed an IM in under 14 hours
- Have eaten my entry fee in gels, snakes and gu while on course
- Gained 2kg's during my last IM
- Recently finished Yeppoon in 7 hours
- Finished Last (stone motherless) at the Surf Coast long course
- 100% glow stick contender at Port Mac

Thats right sports fans, when it comes leading the BOP (from the rear), I'm the fat furry mammal you might want to listen too... For those of us not gunning for the podium (but wanting to finish and get that nice towel/medal/pat on back etc), read on...

The Overall Race.
- Is overwhelming. The more you focus on how far, how hot and how difficult the whole endeavour is, the worse life in general will seem. Step back and look at this logically - a long course race makes no sense at all. The human being was designed to wander about 5km, sprint 50m to catch dinner and then amble back home. The idea that a swim/bike/run of this order is a sane thing to be doing is nuts so lets just put that to one side and accept that a certain level of rationalisation simply will not help.
- But its cool to even try to go this far... And that's the point.

The Swim (without a wetsuit)
- You dont have to swim 1.9km. You really dont. There are marker bouys about every 300m. Marker bouys float. Swim to a marker bouy out of morbid curiosity. Maybe there is a really hot naked chick attached to the bouy, maybe a $100 note (have you ever really looked?). So swim to the floating marker bouy, if you are about to drown then grab onto the floating thing - you'll survive. If you feel OK, then swim to the next floating thing. Repeat about six times and voila, swim complete.
- If in any doubt, start at the back and to the side. When the gun goes, count to five (slowly) and then start swimming. If you are like me, five seconds will not affect your finish time. Aim for clear water and look behind you as well as in front, get out of the way of the next wave as they come through you.
- The no wetsuit thing (sucks). It really does, but life is unfair. Remember, you only have to swim 300m to the floaty thing.

T1
- Walk to the bike, the bike is going to hurt (a lot) what's the rush?
- At the rack, do your transition in slow motion, things will go much faster this way.
- Dont worry about the bike ride, just get on your bike and go for a spin, who knows, there could be Jen Hawkins and Megan Gale having a naked lesbian pillow fight around the first bend and if you dont get on the bike you might miss seeing this unique event...

Bike
- Its not 90.1km, its just not, I wont even drive that far, let alone ride.
- 1st Lap. Go for a 30km spin to have a look at the course. Its really more of a course inspection or course tour if you will. What is the condition of the road? Do the locals seem friendly or are the cow skulls and shotgun shells a bit disconcerting. Do the aid station volunteers have the electric shock gear in case your heart give out a bit later on? Stuff like that.
- 2nd Lap. OK, you've finished lap 1 out of curiosity, now comes the tough one. Lap 2. Its tough because its pointless. You know whats out there and you are just clocking up the k's, so what to do...
- Enjoy the race of course! Not your race, you are slow and boring. You should enjoy the pro's race. You have a ring side seat to watch the action unfold and right about now they'll be lapping you. Who is a filthy draft cheat? Who is an arrogant ass that they have to brush your shoulder as they pass even though you are on the verge of the dirt? Check it out - you have the greatest seat to watching the worlds greatest endurance athletes battle it out.
- 3rd Lap. You'll feel like crap. Its probably 50 degrees in the shade and there is lightning in the distance but what the hell. You've done the hard work so you might as well enjoy the 'victory lap' as I like to call it. You'll be all alone but take this chance to thank every single volunteer, road blocker, bottle passer and TO for their efforts. If you can get around the last lap while thanking every single vollie without tearing up a bit then you have no soul. Do this and the final lap will fly by.
- Get out of your shoes as you approach T2 for the 'flying dismount'. Sure its not going to help your time (nothing will at this stage) but its good for morale.

T2
- Desolation. You are shelled. You had nothing left to give over an hour ago. Now you weep for the fact that you have nothing left to give the vacant space within yourself that also has nothing. Have a cry, endorphins are your friend. Its 70 degrees in the shade and several bolts of lightning have already struck Craig Alexander. You realise the bolts that struck Craig are part of a marketing exercise gone wrong, although dead, he has already finished.
- What ever you do, leave T2 and head out on the run course. You dont need to run 21.1 k's you just have to leave transition.

The Run
- However bad you are feeling right now, take consolation that things will always get worse. Time to tap into your perverse side. Hang around long enough to watch things get worse...
- 1st Lap. Things are not good, so amble over to an aid station. Stop and take the time to eat the food and drink the disgusting sports liquid. You are an elite athlete, you must need the sports drink, its ironman food. Again, get around the first lap just to check stuff out. Most of the fast age groupers will still be on course, suck in your gut and pretend to be one of them.
- 2nd Lap. Time to enjoy yourself a little. Its now 70 degrees inside the icecream scoop in the recovery area (not that you are anywhere near that). At this point the suffering should be in full swing and misery loves company, so... Time to check out some of the very fast age groupers and elites that have blown up. Sure, most of them will have finished or be on their final lap but hey, what about the dozen or so lost souls that are in the final stages of renal shut-down or just lying motionless on the grass. See if they are OK, have a chat. Some of them will not want to talk to you (which is OK, leave them be) but some will want to tell you what went so horribly wrong. We go to the races to see the crashes. This is the crashes.
- 3rd Lap. Your done, finished, goneski, crepitis. You can fry an egg on your eyeballs and you have black sweat marks instead of white. At this point I cant help you. No-one can. You've only got about 5k's or so between you and the blue carpet. This is a great time to figure out why are you doing this. Make all kinds of agreements with yourself that after you finish this last few k's you will never, ever, ever attempt anything like this again, ever...

Enjoy the blue carpet. The moment is over so quickly and it took you six or seven hours of serious discomfort to get to this point. Smell the roses.

3 days later, start planning that next race. Contact your coach, bike shop, physio, othotics spcialist, massage therapist and fortune teller and give them a right bollocking for your average performance. Tell them to lift their game so you can go so much faster next time.

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