I got my mojo back!

I lost my mojo in PD.

During the 2008 PD International Triathlon, on my way to a personal best, I hit a pothole and crashed hard onto the tarmac 1.5km from transition 2. Among the things scattered on the road was my mojo. As i got going again, pushing the bike to transition, I must have left my mojo there.

In 2009, I returned to PD to look for my mojo after a season of dismal results. It wasn't to be. Thanks to a knee injury and some drama that had me driving all the way back to KL and back to PD again in the middle of the night, my mojo was nowhere to be found.

Fast forward to the PD International Triathlon 2010. The search for my mojo continues. A friend said, after screwing up in PD two years in a row, you better do well this year. Talk about added pressure! I was more determined than ever to find that elusive mojo.

But already the dramas had begun. On the way to PD, the airconditioning in the car broke down. Not a big deal really, except that since the aircon runs on the same belt as the water pump, and other vital systems, it made the problem terminal.

As I sat there waiting for the car to be fixed (courtesy of a bunch of mechanics who roam the highway looking for car trouble), I started to wonder whether it was a good idea to race the next day. Could today's incident be a sign of things to come? Will I never find my mojo?

Or is this simply a case of getting all the bad luck out of the way today, so I can have good luck tomorrow?

Four hours and RM800 later, we rolled into PD. At this point, I have to say I was really glad I had Senn with me. She kept calm the whole time and helped keep me from pulling my hair out. She said that whatever I wanted to do the next day, she will support. Thanks, babe, I needed that.

We skipped the carbo load dinner. As much as we wanted to catch up with old friends, the thought of fighting for food with 1200 other triathletes turned us off. So we had a quiet dinner near the apartment and then went to go buy water and breakfast for the next day. On the way, we found a mamak shop that was showing the Tour de France final time trial on TV (earlier I had been fretting about how I was going to catch this). What luck! And while walking back to the car, Senn found a RM10 just lying there on the road. Even more good luck! Maybe I had gotten rid of all bad luck. Maybe my mojo was coming back to me. Maybe I should race tomorrow. Funnily enough, these two good luck incidents happened a few metres for where I crashed two years ago!

So race I did. And I have to say, it was the best race I've ever had.

We got there late so didn't really have time to mingle. Set up transition and headed straight to the start. Managed to take this picture though.



The swim was decent. I was in the battles all the way. Which meant that I was keeping pace with the others. When I had calm water, I thought I had strayed off course. As it turned out, I had dropped the group of swimmers I was battling with and was moving towards the next group for more battles.

Out back onto the beach and only 33 minutes had elapsed. 35 by the time I crossed the timing mat (running on the beach is not easy).

On the bike, I started looking for a train to latch on. For about five or six kilometres I kept looking, then I realised there was a short train behind me! OK, game on. As soon as a faster rider overtook me, I latched on and so did my little train. We went forward, tagging on to the next train in front of us, then the next and the next. Pretty soon, we had a decent sized pack. From then on, It was an easy ride back to transition.



Off the bike in 1:09.

A quick transition and it was off on the run.

My legs felt a little jelly like and I had trouble finding a rhythm. The athletes in the train I was with were starting to drop me one by one. And the side stitches came. I thought this was going to be a tough run. Fortunately, the weather was overcast, so that helped things quite a lot.

3km in, I started to find my rhythm. Stomach cramps were still there but not to severe. I started passing people again. Coming back I saw people who would normally be ahead of me on their way out. That gave me the motivation to push that little bit more.





Crossed the line and my watch said 2 hours and 40 minutes. The run had been done in 52 minutes. A personal best! I was shocked! Elated! Happy!

I had found my mojo.



Photos courtesy of Aileen/Stupe, Yit Thing/Zabrina and Keni K.

What a week!

Monday: run 6.4k
Tuesday: swim 1500m, bike 27k
Wednesday: run 12k
Thursday: swim 1200m, bike 36k
Friday: swim 1200m
Saturday: bike 115k

Wow! I haven't had a week like this since the buildup to IMMY08. All in all, 4000m swimming, 178k biking, and 18.4k running. I was so beat up after saturday's ride, I decided to skip Sunday's run.

Hopefully, this is just the beginning. If I can keep this up and slowly add more quality mileage as the weeks go by, I'll be in good shape for IMWA.

Ironman training has begun!

Not the Best of Marathons...

Thankfully not the worst either.

If anything, the 2010 Standard Chartered Kuala Lumpur Marathon taught me the importance of training. Without which, be prepared to suffer.

And suffer I did, from about 25k all the way to the end.

But before I get into my race, let me just say that this year's edition was a marked improvement over last year's. There was plenty of fluids at the water stations, the route was great and the medal collection was excellent. It's good to know that the organisers learnt their lessons from last year and made efforts to improve.

There were still a few issues though: traffic management was ok throughout but there were a few intersections where it could have been handled better. Particularly at the Jalan P. Ramlee/Jalan Ampang intersection but you can't really blame the cops when the motorists decide to ignore them and almost run down a few runners. Another issue was that there was no water given out at the finish line. If there was, it must have been hidden somewhere because I didn't see any. They should have given us water together with the medal/finisher t-shirt. Would have been a lot better that way for runners.

Anyway on to the race: it started wet. Really, really wet. But after a few km the rain stopped. I was doing a pretty decent pace, a pace I thought I'd be able to sustain for 42km. Hit the first 10k and I was going slightly quicker than I thought. My first 10k was 1h03m.

Continued on. By now the thighs were starting to feel the burn. Thought I'd slow the pace a little. But apparently, I didn't. Second 10k was 1h04m!

Now was when it started to unravel for me. At 25k, I lost it. Just couldn't run anymore. So I walked/ran. It was painful. Runners were passing me left, right and centre. It was quite demoralizing. At this point, I was wondering if I called it quits, how would I get back to the start line. Then Sofian runs by. He must have sensed my agony because he yelled out, "C'mon Arif, don't give up!"

That really helped. I went on till the 28km water station. I had some of my EFS gel, rubbed some ointment on my legs and took some ice from the nice medic there. This gave me a bit of a second wind. I managed to run till the 31km marker. Saw Jason going around on his bike, he asked if I needed anything. A taxi back to the start line perhaps, I wanted to say. But I kept on going.

Finally hit Jalan Kuching. Sun was up and blazing by now. This is one mentally challenging stretch. It goes on for only about 2km but it feels damn long. Meng, the 5-hour pacer, caught up with me now, and urged me to run with him. Made it as far as the 34km water station before I had to walk again.

At 35km, Adeline passed me. She looked damn strong. Guess all that distance/endurance training has paid off for her (she achieved her first sub-5 marathon!). She motioned me to tag on but at the pace she was going, there was no way I could. At this point, I couldn't tag on to anyone, no matter what the pace!

Shortly after the 36km water station, there was some welcomed relief. Kash, Rais and Uncle Allen were there with a mobile kedai runcit. Rais gave me some Counterpain, Kash offered me a Gatorade and Uncle Allen offered me encouragement. Thanks guys, you really helped! Thanks to them, I managed to run all the way to the bottom of that steep hill near the little roundabout.



After that steep hill, I knew we'd have a nice downhill stretch. I love going downhill, you can pick up speed with hardly any effort at all. But it was not to be this time. There was just so much lactic acid in my legs that each step was agony! And to make things worse, at the bottom of the hill, they made us go up another hill just to u-turn midway up. Cruel.

From there it was a slow run/walk all the way to the last turn at Pertama Complex. By then we had maybe about 800m to go so I threw all caution to the wind and ran all the way to the finish. It was painful, but it had to be done.

About 100m from the line, I saw Senn cheering me on and I knew I couldn't stop now. Passed a few other runners along the way too and finally crossed the line. Felt like collapsing right there and then.



The race clock showed me finishing at 5h10m. For a while I thought I'd come in closer to six hours, maybe even after six hours. I guess when I hit that wall at 25k, I knew sub-5 was out of the question so then it became a matter of limiting the damage. I hadn't set a target for this race as I knew I was unprepared for it. Still I wanted to do the best I could. And If I could go under 5, all the better. So doing a 5h10m was ok. Painful, but ok.

Lesson learnt. To run a marathon, you must get the miles in. Last year I was running 40-50k, sometimes even 60k, a week in the build-up to the marathon. This year, I was lucky to get in 20k a week. So for me, to finish itself is a result.

But I couldn't have finished it without the help of friends. Special thanks to Sofian, Eugene Teoh, Jason Hue, Dr.Sya, Kash, Rais, Uncle Allen, Bro Md Nor and a whole bunch of others for pushing me on in one way or another. That percussion group in front of Pavillion, all the medics and volunteers, you all were a great help.

And finally, a big special thank you to Senn, who was there for me after the run and took care of me when I could barely walk. Love ya, babe!

NB15k

The NB15k run this past Sunday was probably my best race so far this year. There were minimal dramas and no injury issues. The only drawback was that I hadn't done a long run since the Energiser race back in March.

There was a bit of drama the night before when we heard of Ngae's passing. Ngae was a legendary character in the runners/triathlete's circle. He always ran barefoot in a sarong, was always humble and always had a smile on his face. He's never one to forget his roots, always telling stories of his days as a young boy in the kampung. He was loud and witty, and always a joy to hang out with, ready to dispense some friendly advice if it were needed. We were amazed at how quickly he got back into action after having gone through brain surgery to remove a tumour last year. Within a few months, he was running again. His passing was a big shock. Ngae, you will be missed.

The morning started with a one minute silence to remember this great man. A few were running in sarongs.

My personal best at this race was a 1h30m. Thought I might be able to improve on that but the question was by how much. The dinner at Laif's house the night before certainly wasn't going to contribute to any improvement. But really, on a day like today, it wasn't about the time. It was about honouring a friend.

In the end, I managed to better my PB by almost 5 minutes. It was as if Ngae's spirit had come to join the run and was pushing me on. My finish time was a 1h25m58s. As I crossed the line, I pointed up to the heavens, at Ngae. This PB I dedicate to him.

PCC Inter-State of Mind

Wow! What an epic 3 days.

So much to tell I don't know where to start.

The annual PCC Interstate this year took us through Perak, Kelantan and Terrengganu. All in all, a little over 480km over three days. Tiring? Yes. Painful? Yes. Fun? Hell yeah!

Before I go on and on and on, I'd just like to thank PCC for organising such a wonderful ride. This is my 4th Interstate and like every year, they've worked tirelessly to bring us a great event yet again. Kudos to James, Ivan, Dennis, O'Neil, Christina, Annie, Sellina, Don, Vong, Ashley and the entire organising committee. It was a great route and the organisation was perfect. Thank you.

To the support crew, especially Willie, Joanne, Patrick (half of day 2 and all of day 3), Wong CC (half of day 3) and PK and family (day 2 and 3), thank you for bringing us home each and every day. We wouldn't have made it without you. I know how tough it must have been for you guys to wait for us. And Patrick, the spray bottle was genius!

And to my little peloton: Amanda, Azhar, Clarence, Patrick and Wong CC, you guys rawk!. Thank you for letting me in on your little group. You guys made the torture fun. Couldn't have completed the distance without you. Thanks for the pulls, the pushes, the camaraderie and the laughter.

Anyway, on to the report:

Day 1 - Kuala Kangsar - Pulau Banding (140km)

Woke up to the sound of pouring rain. Half contemplated sleeping in but heard the cyclists gathering outside the hotel room. Looks like the ride is on, rain or shine.

Got out and there was a mass of riders in the resort carpark. The mood still seemed chirpy and festive, despite the rain. Well, it is day 1 and the riders were rearing to go.

All smiles before the start.

After a quick briefing, we were off, crossing the bridge over Sungai Perak. By now the rain had stopped and left us with some cool, comforting weather to ride in.

I was settling myself in towards the back of the pack, not really knowing which group I'd end up riding with. Then, not 10km in, I saw Amanda pulling off. She had a flat. I stopped to help, as did Azhar, Clarence, Patrick and Wong CC. This would eventually be my little peloton over the next three days.

As we worked on changing Amanda's tube, we saw the whole peloton passing by. Once we sorted out the tube, we were off, in chase mode. We were now the tail-enders and wanted to catch up with the main pack.

So focused were we on the chase that we actually missed a turn! Actually, we were too busy posing for the cameras to hear the marshalls yelling out, "Turn left!"

Back on track, we continued the pursuit...

All smiles still. Three hours later, the smiles would be gone.

As this stretch of the route was flat, it was easy to give chase. In fact, as the picture above shows, we were still smiling. We were making good time, so good that we didn't notice that Vong's pack had stopped and we had passed them. It was only when we stopped, at about 90k, that we realised we did.

As we refilled our bottles and refreshed ourselves with Patrick's spray bottle, we saw Vong's pack coming. We quickly latched on and got a free ride for a while. At Gerik (100km), Vong's pack stopped to refill. Our little peloton decided to go on ahead, since we had just stopped 10km earlier, no point stopping again. Also, Vong's pack was pretty big and that could be a little dangerous, so it was safer to go on our own.

This was when the smiles disappeared. This was when we started climbing. The first 10k was rolling so it wasn't so bad, then then it was 20k of hell. The climb was relentless and by now the sun was out in full force. Our little pack slowly got separated, with the faster climbers like Azhar and Clarence moving on ahead. I was struggling to keep up with Amanda and eventually got dropped.

The climb begins. Smiles all gone now. Amanda still smiling as she drops my sorry ass!

As we went higher, I found my legs working again and soon caught up and passed Amanda. Further up, Clarence had stopped because he ran out of water and was waiting for the support car.

The peak never seemed to come. Each time the road went down, I was filled with a sense of relief, thinking the climb was over. But no, the road would then point skywards again. This went on a few times, and i had just about given up on seeing the final descent.

Then it came. And it was a steep, fast descent. Almost too short because just as I was starting to enjoy it, I saw a marshal saying we have to go up this really steep hill to get to the hotel. One last kick up that hill and day 1 was done. Just in time too, I felt the cramps coming in on those last few pedal strokes.

Day 2 - Pulau Banding - Kota Bahru (180km)

Day 2 started early, before the sun came up. It was the longest day and we had a 30km climb to start the day. It was nice of the organisers to want us to clear the climb before the sun came out.

An early start to avoid climbing in the sun.

We started by crossing the bridge into Banding, then out the other side before the climbing proper started. Hardly enough time to warm the legs up before we went skywards.

The start of the climb on Day 2.

It was good to start the climb so early. The weather was cool, there was a nice mist hanging in the air. The mist helped disguise how steep the climb really was.

Reaching the top.

Clarence, Wong CC and me at the top.

Our little peloton regrouped at a rest stop at the top. After a quick refill, and something to eat, we were off again. This section had some nice downhills but there was still a bit of climbing to do. It was only when we crossed the border into Kelantan the the road dropped. It was an exhilarating descent, all 30+km of it. Some sections were so steep that some riders hit speeds of up to 65-70km/h.

We regrouped again at the bottom and made our way to Jeli. At the Petronas there, we were treated to a little surprise. One of the Bukit Jelutong boys owned the Petronas and his mum runs it. So they had a little kenduri for us there. Since our team captain, Azhar, was one of the Jelutong boys too, we were treated to a scrumptious lunch of nasi berlauk. We let Vong's group go, and enjoyed the little makan.

By now, PK and family had joined us in their car. They had driven from KL that morning and was now here to lend us their support. After lunch we continued on our way. The road here was flat and windy and really tested the mental strength.

Doing my share of the work.

As we were riding along, PK had gone ahead to see where the rest of the peloton was. He came back to report that Don and Vong's group were only 5km ahead. He motorpaced us for a while to try and catch up but we gave up when we saw a air kelapa stall. By now we were still another 30km away from KB and it was really, really hot.

Approaching KB, we got another surprise. Amanda had suddenly got a second wind (it was the power gel, she claimed) and started pulling us all at 36km/h, blowing our little pack to pieces!

Amanda killing us all with her sudden pace.

After a lot of yelling and begging for her to slow down, we got into KB town. We rolled through town and to our final stop for the day, the hotel. End of day 2.

Day 3 - Kota Bahru - Kenyir Lake (160km)

Captain Azhar's mission to us: Get in ahead of Vong today.

The score between our little pack and Vong's was one apiece. We won the first day, they won the second. Now to move in for the kill.

The last ones to leave.

We started late because Azhar had to change a flat but didn't take long to join the rest of the pack. At the 40k mark, we broke away. It felt like a real cycling race: breaking away and the four of us working together to stay away from the pack.

But we had to stop 10km later when we realised Amanda was still stuck in that pack. We waited for the pack to arrive, she joined us and off we went again, well behind Vong. It wasn't long before we saw them stopped at a petrol station, so we picked up the pace and pushed on.

Working hard to accomplish our mission.

So eager were we to accomplish our mission, we made our stops as short as possible. A quick refill and spray from the spray bottle and we were off again. Each refill stop lasted no more than 10-15 minutes. Thank God for support cars. Patrick, Wong CC, Joanne, Willie, PK and family were always there when we needed them.

Pushing really hard now.

At 130k, we heard that Vong was about 20k behind us. Later we found out from Vong that had we been any closer, he would have picked up the pace and given chase. As it was, we were safe so we could have eased up. But we didn't. We were further bouyed when we saw Don sitting at a roadside stall with about 15k to go. Double bonus! Get in ahead of Vong AND Don. So we pushed on even more.

This proved to be a mistake for me. Little did we know there was going to be a huge mother of a hill coming up. Not the hill we usually climb during the Kenyir tri, but one that was steeper. Much much steeper. And to make it even worse, the hill was covered in gravel and rubble.

As we approached the hill, you could hear the cussing from the riders. I zig zagged up the hill to try and reduce the gradient, but at one point I felt I had to stand up to pedal through. Big mistake. I lost traction, the rear wheel spun and I almost bit the dust. After that, there was no way to get back on the bike. Frustrated, I threw the bike down (I was looking for a longkang), threw my helmet down, and just collapsed. Luckily Joanne offered to pushy my bike up the rest of the hill for me, saving me the indignity of pushing up the bike myself!

At the top of that hill, I got back on my bike and continued. I was totally spent by now. Fortunately, we were at the entrance of the resort already. Just a couple of short, steep hills to go and we were done. We passed the resort gates, and sprinted up the hill to the lobby. It felt like the uphill finish of Flech Wallone! I got to the lobby and raised my arms in triumph.

That's it. Ride done. Mission accomplished. Three grueling days in the saddle.

Koyak-ed at the end.

By far the toughest Interstate I've ever done. But also by far the most fun. The company, camaraderie, the little friendly unofficial competitions is what makes the Interstate such a fun event. This year's was no different. Let's do this again next year!

Pictures courtesy of Jamie, Janice, James, Patrick, Mac and Miow Chin. All taken from Facebook.

Race Calendar

Lately, I've been feeling kinda demotivated and put off by this whole multisport malarky. Could be that I'm jaded already, having been doing this without much significant improvement since 2006. It doesn't help that I've not had a single good race this year. Not a one.

So in hopes of turning my season around, I thought I'd sort out my race calendar. Hopefully, this will give me something to aim for and help motivate me to get off my ass and start training. So without further ado, here goes:

May 16: New Balance 15k
Jun 27: KL Marathon
Jul 11: Siemens 10k Run
Jul 24: Malakoff University Duathlon Series Round 1
Jul 25: PD International Triathlon
Jul 30: Malakoff University Duathlon Series Round 2
Aug 7: Malakoff University Duathlon Series Round 3
Nov 14: Powerman Malaysia
Dec 5: Ironman Western Australia

Also, I've found a new running group who put the fun back into training. They've had me set up an account at dailymile and I'm enjoying the banter that goes on after we've all posted our workout for the day.

Dailymile also helps keep me going as I can't stand to see an empty day on the calendar!

So there it is, my race calendar for the rest of the year. Will I be motivated enough to go through with it? Will I finally have a good race this year? Find out...

Dee En Eff

A DNF is always hard to swallow. Especially when it's your A-race, the one you've been gearing up for all year long. Making that decision to quit, to DNF, to retire wasn't an easy one. What made the decision tougher was the fact that for the first time, my parents and my boys were in Langkawi to watch me race. I didn't want to disappoint them, having dragged them all the way here just to watch me fail.

But looking back, I suppose quitting and having them disappointed was a better alternative than having them worry about me while I lay in hospital had I chose to go on. Yes, it may sound dramatic, but it certainly looked like it was heading that way.

Here's the story:

The swim was a killer. Even before the swim, I was feeling a little gassy in the tummy. I put it down to nerves, but little did I know how much of a big part this little problem would play later on in the race.

At the gun, I was swimming briskly. There were swimmers all around me and after the first 50 metres or so, I got into a rhythm. I felt my strokes were long and smooth, and I was gliding well. Being surrounded by other swimmers gave me this false sense of confidence, that my pace was good.

At the 1600m mark, I looked at my watch. 1h04m! WTF! I usually hit the turnaround at 50-55 minutes. Now I'm at 1h04m and I still have 300m to go. Not good.

Hit the turnaround at 1h10m and started wondering if I was going to make cutoff. It looked marginal. My strokes were now shorter but the push was stronger. Breathing was getting laboured. Short and abrupt inhaling and exhaling. Currents kept pushing me away from the bouys, so it was a bit of a struggle just to get back on track. While I felt I was swimming in a straight line, the currents were actually making us swim at a 45 degree angle away from the swim lane.

Finally made it back in 2h01m. The last time I swam this badly was my first IM, back when I didn't know how to swim. I was completely winded by the time I got out that I was barely able to walk to the change tent.

By now I was feeling bloated. But because of the seawater taste in my mouth, I just downed any liquid I could find. Water, Gatorade and even Coke became victims of my thirst. That would prove fatal later on.

Spent more than 10 minutes in the change tent. Most of it trying to get my arm coolers on. Grabbed my bike and saw my dad, yelling words of encouragement. But I couldn't really hear what he was saying, my mind was just a blur. Mounted the bike and went about 100m before I saw my boys. Stopped to get a hug and kiss from them and moved on, being very careful not to push too hard.

Started on my nutrition plan. Took a bite out of my EFS bar and then it happened. All the liquids I ingested in the change tent was starting to rise. AS I chewed on my bar, trying to swallow it, the liquids started coming out the other way. Puke number one, while I still had the bar in my mouth!

I later lost count how many times I threw up but it's safe to say I decorated the road to the Padang Lalang roundabout with my sick. At 20k I decided to stop a while and just get rid of it all. Spent 20 minutes puking my guts out till I was sure there were no more liquids in my tummy. This worked last year when I had the same problem and I was able to continue after that.

This time, however, it wasn't to be. Any time i took a sip from my bottles, whether i twas Gatorade or water, it all just came out again. By now a couple of other problems were starting to creep in: I started getting chills and every time I stopped pedaling, I started to fall asleep. Not good.

I decided to stop at the 40k aid station to shower so I can get the sleepiness out. Another 20 minutes spent. But then the chills kept getting worse. Continued towards Bukit Malut, shivering and sleepy. A nice ice cold Coke would probably help wake me up and get rid of the gassy feeling.

Saw Bandit as I apporached Malut and asked him to buy me a bottle of Coke. Shortly after, saw Mac taking pictures of riders going up the hill and stopped. I needed to take a nap!

I laid down and took a nap while waiting for Bandit to return with the Coke. Right there on the grass in the hot sun! The Coke came and I downed it. I felt the burp coming and I let it out. Unfortunately, it came out with all the Coke too. All over my white tri top.

It was at this point I contemplated a DNF. I had heard over the SMS grapevine that Ishsal had called it quits and that there was no more water on the bike course. Do I really want to continue? The foremost thought in my head was that I didn't want to let my parents and boys down. They came all the way to watch me finish. I wanted them to be proud of me. I couldn't possibly let them down with a DNF.

Bandit suggested I take an easy spin through Malut towards Kuah and see how. I took off my arm coolers (which were giving me the chills) and changed my aero helmet for a normal ventilated one (thanks Mac, for lugging my spare helmet around and switching the helmet stickers) and continued. I felt better slightly and was able to hold a good pace. Started passing some riders (probably unlapping myself). But the puking continued.

Then I reached the dreaded Bukit Hantu. I started climbing it but midway, I felt a big one coming. Stopped and let it out. Continued riding up the hill, but was now feeling quite woozy. I think dehydration and lack of nutrition was setting in. I was wobbly at the top, so I decided to ride on to the next aid station and try to eat. I was scheduled for a bar anyway.

I got to the next station and tried to get off the bike. But cramps started to set in. Bandit was there and passed me some water and ice, made me sit down by the side of the road and gave my leg a massage. I tried to drink the water but I coudn't even swallow, I was dribbling like an idiot. I looked at the time and decided I wasn't going to make the intermediate cutoff and it would have been foolish to try. I told Bandit to call Mac to pick me up. I had no choice but to let my parents and kids down.

I passed out while waiting for Mac to arrive. Apparently, the temperature had hit 46 degrees at that point! Senn came by after I woke up, needing a new watch, hers had run out of batteries. Bandit passed her his and she passed a message through him that she loved me. That was comforting.

Mac arrived shortly after and I got my phone out and called my Dad. With tears in my eyes, I had to tell him I couldn't go on and that I was sorry I dragged them all the way to Langkawi just to let them down. My dad comforted me and told me it was ok. Shafeeq, my eldest, called me soon after to find out what happened. He said he wasn't disappointed and that made me feel better.

Surprisingly, I wasn't too disappointed with this DNF as I was with my first. I guess already having two finishes under my belt meant that I could let this one go. I knew that if I couldn't keep anything down, I was going to end up with a massive bonk and severely dehydrated. It was a risk not worth taking. Better to call it quits and live to fight another day. I think my parents were glad I pulled out. Only Shaqeel was a bit disappointed. I thin he really wanted to cross that line with me. And really, that was the only thing that made me sad: not being able to run across the line with my boys.

I did some research the next day and it turns out that I swallowed too much air during the swim. If you don't exhale completely before inhaling, the excess air that you take goes to your stomach, causing bloatedness and subsequently vomiting. The tough swim made things worse. I have to learn to breathe properly before tackling my next Ironman.

Speaking of which, I don't have to wait a whole year till the next one. I've signed up and paid for Ironman Western Australia in December. I'll be looking to redeem myself then. Hopefully I can coax my parents and kids into going for that one so they can finally see me finish.

As for Langkawi, I'll be back next year. But as a supporter. This was a decision I made even before the start of this year's race so this DNF had nothing to do with it.

Langkawi this year was truly a race of attrition. Of the 538 registered, a whopping 116 did not finish. Nine of those didn't even make the start! It really was a tough day out there. Congratulations to the 422 finishers, especially the first timers. You survived on a day many did not.

Special shout out to Senn who finally had an incident-free race and Emma for finally getting her Kona slot. And a big big thank you to Bandit and Aileen for fussing over me like I was a prissy little princess and to Mac for taking care of me pre and post race. You guys rock!