Hi Again!

Haven't been blogging for a while, the last post was from the PD International Triathlon way back in July last year.

Lots have happened since: I've parted ways with BeyondTransition.com, a tough decision but had to be done: I've also been certified a TRX trainer, so if anyone wants to do TRX, do let me know; Shafeeq scored 5As in his UPSR (against all odds, but I knew he had it in him to do it) and is now in secondary school; Shaqeel is doing well in fencing, punching way above his weight in competitions, Senn has achieved her dream of becoming a Blue Diamond Executive at Nu Skin. Lots more have happened but then this post would never end.

I'm a certified TRX instructor!

My TRA Transformation

Blue Diamond Recognition

As far as triathlon goes, my one-year hiatus from Ironman has ended and I find myself two weeks away from Ironman Melbourne, which will be my first race as a 40-year-old. Training's been going good, I'm feeling stronger and fitter than ever before. I'm feeling like I'm back to 2008 levels of fitness, when I was at my fittest. My weight has dropped to 2008 levels as well but my body composition is much, much better, thanks to a healthy dose of TRX and to the TRA weight management program I've been on for the past three months. My weight has dropped from 60kg to my ideal race weight of 52kg and my body fat percentage is at 8%.

But the Melbourne prep has hit a bit of a snag today. While picking up my bike from the bike shop today, the mechanic pointed out a small crack in the frame, at the seat tube just above the bottom bracket. Oh no! I immediately took it to Specialized for Daniel to have a look and offer some solutions. He took pictures and will send them to the US but I don't think a replacement frame will get here before I leave. He says the bike is still rideable, but I'd much rather have a replacement. There's a nice Shiv TT hanging on the wall there...

The cracks in the frame. I'm hoping it's just the paint...

Anyway, last long ride this Saturday, followed by a half marathon on Sunday and then it's taper time. Can't wait. Although I'm feeling good about my training, I'll have to admit, I'm getting tired. Can't wait for the taper to start.

Well, that's it for now. Will try post more as we get closer to Melbourne.

Mind Games - The PD Triathlon Report

The mind lost the PD Tri way before the race even started. It lost the battle when I signed up thinking, "Yeah, let's just do this for fun. Forget the PB, forget the timing even."

So, going into the race with that mindset, it was no wonder the mind gave up early in the race. In all fairness, it wasn't too bad a race. I was outside my PB here by about 12 minutes so, really, it's all good.

I've always maintained that having good mental strength is the key to finishing any race strong. And this race just proved my point for me. Had I gone into this race with a different goal, then possibly the outcome would have been different. Looking back now, a PB was definitely possible with the right mindset.

But anyway, what's done is done. The important thing was my goal of "just do this for fun" was achieved. And that's all that matters.

So how did the race go?

The usual cam-whoring pre-race

As usual, I started off in the second wave. The BeyondTransition Racer's Guide to PD (which I wrote, incidentally) said to start the swim as far right as possible to avoid the crowds by the bouyline. What did I do? I started on the left, right where everyone was. Practicing what I preach much?

Anyway, by the time I realized I was by the bouyline, it was too late. Commence the kicking and punching. Got a solid breast stroke kick in the chin early on. But for once, I wasn't timid. I was aggressive but fair in the swim, not wanting to give up my space and it paid off. Got to the first bouy in no time and once in the marina, I had some space, save for the occasional swimmer zigzagging.

Was quite surprised to see the turnaround bouy so soon. Turned around and had no contact with anyone whatsoever. After the right turn towards the beach it got a little messy. By then I had caught up with the the mass of slower swimmers breaststroking their way to shore. Frustrating, but managed to sprint past them.

When the water was shallow enough, I stood up and looked at the watch. It said 28-something. PB! First time I broke 30 minutes! But I wasn't out of the water yet, there was about 50m or so to go in knee deep water. Too shallow to swim, but deep enough to wreck your calves running through it.

See how far we had to wade in knee-deep water

So I waddled my way to shore and already I could hear my calves protesting. And this is when the legs said, "OK the race is over. I'm wrecked." And the mind agreed. After about a minute, I finally got out of the water and onto the soft sand for that long run to T1.

Finally, out of the water. Already exhausted from all that wading.

This time, the heart and lungs protested. And the mind went along. Game over. But I didn't come all the way to quit at the swim, so on I went. Into T1, sunglasses on, helmet on, race belt on and off I went.

Out on the bike, I pushed hard early on, trying to maintain a 30+km/h pace. I thought when the fast train from the next wave caught up, I'd be ready to hop on. Just under 10k in, they caught me but I was struggling up a hill, and failed to latch on. The legs said, "You're wasting your time. We'll never catch them." The mind said, "Shaddup!" On the other side of the hill, I tried to get some guys to work together to catch the train. We pushed and pushed, but that train was getting smaller and smaller. The legs said, "I told you so!" The mind tried to ignore it but couldn't.

I knew there would be another train coming along and just after the turnaround, Japanese Sam's train caught up. I jumped on and managed to stay on. While enjoying the free speed, the mind teased the legs, "Nyeh nyeh!".

Legs said "Just you wait!"

And sure enough, with about 12k to go, we headed up a hill. And I got spat out the back. "Told you so :p" said the legs. Damn you, legs!!!

Luckily, there was a guy in a Garmin Cervelo jersey with me and without saying a word, we worked together to get home, each taking a turn at the front.

Relieved that the bike leg is almost ending.

I was quite surprised to see the time when I got to T2. The 40k was done in about 1:16. I thought it would have been at least in the 1:20s. It could have been quicker if I had managed to hang on to the packs but I'm pretty happy with the time considering there was not that much drafting.

Fly!

Now it was off for the run. But the legs said, "Dude, I had to work extra hard on the bike, now you want me to run?" I said, "Uh huh, let's go!" But the legs refused. Ended up walking the first 500m. When I got to the main road, the legs relented and we went running.

Up until the new section of the course, that is. "The new section took us on to the beach, across a little bridge to an island then back on the beach before joining up with the old course again.

This is when the legs just said "Forget it, dude. I ain't running on that sandy shit! Remember how much pain I was in at the swim exit?" And the mind complied. So it was about 3km of trying to coax legs and mind into running but to no avail. We would run a bit and then walk. It was like this all the way till we got back to the main road.

Once we got the the main road, the mind simply said, "Ok, we're on the road now, can we go?" Reluctantly, the legs agreed. Got to the turnaround, over the hill and, according to the Racer's Guide, hit the gas. And promptly ran out of gas. But I knew we had 2km to go, so we ran on fumes for the last 1.5km.

Run form going off. Just wanted to get back to the finish.

Never was I so glad to cross the finish line. Couldn't even muster a sprint at the end. Just an easy jog back to the finish. Crossed the line in 2:52 which was only possible thanks to the short run course. If the course was 10k like it should have been, I wouldn't have been able to break 3 hours.

Finally over. Just a few more meters...

See how important it is to go into a race with the right mindset? Without it, the mind will easily give in to the legs' requests to give up. I knew this was going to happen and I let it happen, so it's all good. And most importantly, I did have fun during this race. And that, ultimately, was the goal.

Pictures courtesy of Paul Lee, Maybel Chung, Hsing Ling, Reza Ali, Leong Kwan Weng, and Janice Chan.

Energizer Night(mare) Run 2011

Whoa!

Just whoa!

What the hell was that? Was that supposed to be a world-class international event brought to us by a world-class international brand? I've been to primary school sports days better organised than that.

What happened last night at the Energizer Night Run was just plain shameful. The way the organisers handled the situation was beyond shameful.

Most people who know me know that I don't normally complain about race organisation, not so publically at least. This is because I believe that race organisers are actually doing us a favour by hosting these events. Having been on the organisers side before, I know this is a thankless job.

Without these organisers, we wouldn't have any race to participate in, so we owe them at least some support. By all means criticise when things go wrong, but make sure it's constructive so they can learn from it and improve. And when they do, they improve a thousand-fold. I've seen this happen before. And that's how the sport has grown so much these past few years.

However, last night's run was so badly handled, I cannot keep it quiet. These goons who organised the Energizer Night Run don't deserve anything but the scathing comments they've been receiving on Facebook. As of now there are is a boycott group, a boycott page and a we want justice page (I'm on all of them!).

It was shocking considering all the pre-race hype. Even the race kit collection was smooth, giving me a false sense of security that this was going to be a well-run event. But as soon as we got to the circuit, my friends and I saw that it wasn't to be.

First off, parking. How bad was that? I've heard that the parking fees were RM10! Highway robbery. And not all were charged apparently. My friend, Keni, who drove us there, was just waved in. He had already wound his window down to pay, but the jagas just waved him in. We were the lucky ones.

We walked to the circuit and everything was fine. Till we saw a bunch of runners being shepherded into a tiny door, which led four floors down into a narrow tunnel under the track. Having been to the circuit before, I know there are a few other tunnels that lead to the paddock, but they only opened the one. Now, if you know you've got 10,000 eager runners coming through at roughly about the same time, why the hell wouldn't you open the other tunnels?

I soon found the answer. After going the crowded, stuffy tunnel (which has been dubbed "Tunnel of Death" by the way), we found that it led to a small room where the headlight collection was. And it was utter chaos there. I couldn't see where the collection table was but apparently there was no one manning it. Keni braved into the crowds and grabbed one each for him, Shifa and me.

We left that room into a large open space wondering why the hell they didn't do the headlamp collection there. It was much more spacious and a hell of a lot cooler. But these smart bastards just had to inconvenience everyone and do it in a small confined room. Bloody brilliant. I also heard that when things got out of control, the volunteers and organisers high-tailed it outta there leaving the participants to fight it out like wild animals.

Unfortunately, as Malaysians, we don't know how to queue so the situation got very chaotic very quickly. They should have had some kind of system in place to ensure order. But instead, they ran. Useless.

Anyway, after that I went off to look for the baggage handling area. Senn was coming later to pick me up so I didn't want to leave my stuff in Keni's car. There were no direction signs telling me where what is, you just have to go scout around and if you find it, you find it. Otherwise you're shit out of luck.

I finally found it after going round and round the so-called carnival area. Another chaotic scene. After standing in line for about half an hour, I finally got to the front to see that there was no one manning that booth either. I saw loads of runners just tagging their own bags and dumping it in the room so I did the same. Suddenly I heard someone shout, "Everybody! Get the hell out of here! GET OUT ALL OF YOU!" Ahhh.. so that's where the volunteer was, busy yelling at people. Well, if you were doing your job efficiently, we wouldn't have to go in there to do your job. I mean, how difficult can it be to take the bag, tag it and pass the baggage claim tag to the runner? Seriously? A lot of full marathoners missed the start because they were still in line at baggage handling!

Anyway, I dumped my bag in plain sight so I could (hopefully) retrieve it easily later and went off to meet Emma and the RoE gang to begin our run.

The first kilometre or so was not too bad. It took us from the track, to the paddock area and out to the main road via the paddock access road. This is when it got a bit scary. Understandably, because it was a main thoroughfare, they couldn't close the whole road. So they had us running down a busy road with cars coming from behind. What they could have done was create a contraflow on the opposite side so the runners could have the whole two lanes to themselves. Running down that road with cars whizzing past your shoulder just inches away was bloody scary.

Emma and I skipped past the first water station and proceeded down the dark road that serviced the circuit's car parks. We were doing an ok pace (slow by Emma's standards, I'm sure) and soon came to the second water station. Chaos again! Volunteers there weren't ready. Cups were still in their packaging as the volunteers were busy trying to retrieve the cups from the packaging and pour the water. In their panic, they just threw the cups, packaging and all, onto the table, leaving the runners to take the cups out themselves. Runners were pouring water for other runners, while the volunteers stood idly by! What the hell are you there for, son?!

Emma was smart, she just grabbed a Gatorade from the ice tub and we were off. Soon, we got to another water station. More of the same. Were these volunteers not briefed before the run?

When we completed the outer loop, we were supposed to grab a wristband then enter the circuit. I moved to the left where I saw three volunteers standing there with the bags of wristbands in their hands. The first two did absolutely nothing. Nothing. Just stood there with their mouths agape. Again, what the hell are you there for, son?!

I grabbed two wristbands from the third guy and passed one to Emma and continued down to the circuit. We were directed to go down the pitlane then make a u-turn onto the start/finish straight. Now the track is so wide, one of the widest in the world in fact, yet we had to funnel into a narrow section to cross the timing mat. Again here, there was chaos. 5.5k runners, having completed their run, were just loitering around the area, getting in the way of the 21k runners. Also, we were given more wristbands here, which turned out to be of no use because no one checked them at the end. We navigated through the chaos and found some open space and ran down to Turn 1.

This is where I saw the ugly side of runners (oh yes, runners, you are not going to be spared from my scathing remarks either!). There were a whole bunch of runners cutting the corner at Turn 1. They shamelessly ran on the grass cutting the whole corner and rejoined the track at Turn 3. Those of you who took the shortcut and think you're being sooooo clever, you're not. You're a total disgrace to the running community. They cut Turn 1, Turn 4, Turn 9. They would have probably cut Turn 14 too if the water station hadn't been positioned on the outside of it. If you feel the need to cut corners, please stay home next time. You're a waste of space.

Speaking of water stations, the map had shown two station on the circuit: One at Turn 6 and the other at Turn 14. Guess what? The one at Turn 6 was just there for show. There was no water, no Gatorade, nothing. Just two volunteers sat there twiddling with their cell phones. Once again, what the hell are you there for, son?!

The water station at Turn 14 was slightly better. But only just. They had water and Gatorade, but like the earlier water stations, the volunteers just weren't ready for the onslaught of thirsty runners. And because the volunteers were ineffective, runners had to resort to getting their own drinks from the ice tub. Runners were grabbing 1.5 litre bottles of mineral water, taking a few sips, and dumping it to the side of the road. What a waste.

As we finished our first loop on the circuit, we again had to go through the chaos at the start line. If you're done with your run, get off the track, people! Don't impede those still running. Apart from that, the second loop went without much incident, save for the useless water stations. The worst part happened after crossing the finish line. Total chaos. There was no one to tell us where to go, there was no water available, nothing. Just a whole bunch of people looking important but without a clue.

We crossed into the pitlane and saw a long queue of people. We found out that it was the queue for the goodie bags. We waited in line for a while and saw that it wasn't moving, so I decided to go get my bag instead. This was the only part that went smoothly. Because I put my bag in plain sight, when I got to the counter, I just pointed at my bag and the volunteer went and got it. There were no queues (mainly because everyone else was on the other side queueing for the goodie bags!) and I got out of there in under three minutes.

After that, we decided to try our luck with the goodie bags again. We had waited in line for only about five minutes when we heard the announcer rudely announce that no goodie bags will be handed out because of the riot earlier. All goodie bags will be couriered, now please disperse!

Can you believe that?! No apology, no sympathy, nothing. Just a terse get-out-of-the-area-now-you-hooligans! So we left. I found out later that the bags were just left on the floor for anyone to take. And when it got crowded, volunteers were throwing the bags at the runners. How utterly disgraceful. To top it off, they gave the wrong bags to the runners. Some of those 11k runners were probably delighted to discover they had gone home with 42k finisher t-shirts and medals!

Now, all those disappointed runners had to leave but the only way out was that horrid Tunnel of Death. By now, the runners were all sticky and sweaty and had to go through that narrow, stuffy tunnel to get out. If someone had fainted, there'd be no medics around (not that I saw any medics the entire night). Even if there were medics in the tunnel, with the throngs of people going through, they wouldn't be able to get to there on time. Good thing there was no stampede, else things could have gotten really ugly.

Luckily for me, Senn had parked her car at the Paddock entrance, so I was spared that trudge through the tunnel. I walked in the open air, cheering on the full marathoners who were now making their way onto the circuit. I feel sorry for what they were about to face. After busting their asses for 42k, they would not be getting a medal, a t-shirt or even a drink. In fact, by then, I heard even the organisers had left.

The company responsible for this shamble is called Expose. How appropriate for on this night, they had exposed themselves as being incompetent, money-grabbing fucks. A friend told me they charged RM3 for a bottle of mineral water after the race! Who brings money to a run? And those things were supposed to be given free!

Beside the organisation, or lack of, the MC, a Josie Huang, I believe here name was, was utterly rude. No professionalism at all. She flat out called the runners hooligans and claimed that the runners were the ones causing a riot. And she did this over the PA system for all the world to hear. Fact is, had she gotten her shit together, none of this would have happened. And instead of being apologetic, she chose to instead shift blame to the runners, the very people that helped fund the event. Professionalism at its best.

I have been to many races in the past 5-6 years. Some have been well organised, some badly organised but I have never been to one this badly done. Even the KL Marathon of 2009 wasn't this badly organised. I worry about how the backlash of this will affect future running events in Malaysia. Already a lot of people are turned off by running events here and this may lead to less participation, local and international, which in turn will lead to the number of events decreasing and the growth of the sport stunted. I hope it doesn't happen, but we are well on the way.

Thanks a lot Expose, you have single-handedly ruined running for Malaysia.

Good-bye Ironman... for now

Ironman Langkawi. On? Off? Who knows.

Whatever it is, I've said good-bye to Ironman racing. If it's off, it'll be a shame. I was looking forward to going and lending support to my friends who were going to race. After four years of getting continuous support from friends while I was participating, I figured it's time to give back.

I've always enjoyed racing in Langkawi. Many have complaints about how it's organised but I have to say, with the exception of 2010, it's been one of the best organised events in this country. 2008 was exceptionally good (I guess they had to step it up there because Faris Al-Sultan was racing and the ESPN TV crews were covering it). Maybe I'm just easier to please than most athletes here.

I have very fond memories of Ironman Malaysia. My first big-time disappointment DNF-ing on '07. The biggest high of finally crossing the line in '08. The camaraderie of athletes and supporters. The makan at Wonderland. Istana Condo. The list goes on.

Having since done an Ironman in Australia, I have to say, nothing beats racing at home. Sure, Busselton was great, well-organised, great support from the community, etc, but it still felt cold (and I'm not just talking about the weather). You don't get the warmth of having your friends around cheering you on.

This post is not meant to eulogise the demise of Ironman Malaysia (we don't even know if it's gone yet). The good-bye is from me to Ironman itself. I've done 5, finished 3, and I've not gotten anywhere. My times have always hovered around the 15:30 mark and it seems to all be in vain. I need to make massive improvements everywhere before I can even begin to think about doing another one.

For the first half of this year I will focus on improving the run while enjoying the bike. Sub-4 marathon is the goal. Impossible? Maybe. But we try. Then if that is achieved, the second half will focus on improving the bike and enjoying the run. Will get a turbo trainer and possibly a powermeter, if I can afford one. Swim, we'll just throw it in there.

If all goes well, I'll reacquaint myself with Ironman in New Zealand in 2012, which will coincide with my 40th birthday. If it doesn't go well, I'll just find another way to celebrate the big four-oh.

So, for now, it's good-bye Ironman. If you do show up in Langkawi in May, I'll see you there, but I'll be there supporting my friends, and not to face you. But I'm sure I'll face you soon enough...

With A LIttle Help From My "Friends" - The Busselton Report

In the four years we've been going to Langkawi, we've always enjoyed the support of our friends, who would take the trouble to travel all the way there to cheer us on. They would cheer, motivate, run along with us in those moments when we've hit the wall or when we've abandoned hope. They encourage us to go on when we're about to give up, they help keep our sanity while we're doing something completely insane.

Pre-race: The whole town gets ready for the Ironman. 

Going to Busselton to race in Ironman Western Australia, I knew we weren't going to get that level of support. It was too much to ask of our friends to come along for the ride. So, we just had to make do with what was out there; watching people cheer for others. It was going to be a lonely race for us with no one to cheer us on, no one to motivate us.

I was wrong.

The 1500 volunteers and the supporters lining up the run course were great. They cheered everybody on, regardless of whether they knew them or not. They called you out by name. They kept you motivated. They kept you going. In the absence of our friends, this was the next best thing.

Pre-race: Sofian and I goofing around. 12 meter draft zone is looong.

If it wasn't for the great crowd support, I'm not sure I would have been able to finish this race. It was a tough race, for sure. I had known from about 100k on the bike that the target I had set would not be met. From then on it was a case of damage limitation and just finishing in the shortest time possible. In fact, even a PB looked out of the question. When it mattered most, my legs didn't have it.

I had a decent swim. It was the first time swimming in a wetsuit so it felt a bit weird. I think I didn't put it on properly because it felt tight around the shoulders. Ezer helped to hike it up a bit in an attempt to loosen the shoulders, but only the right side loosened up. The left side still felt a bit constricted. Sure enough, 100m into the swim, my left arm went dead. It was just so tiring to try and move the left arm. At one point, I was even swimming with just my right arm toe give the left one a rest! Not funny.

Pre-race: The famous jetty we had to swim around. It was a long way to the end. 

We got to the turnaround and I was afraid to check my time. Didn't want to cause myself any unnecessary panic if I were too far behind. I looked around and there were quite a few heads bobbing around me so I knew I was ok. By now the left arm was already numb from tiredness and didn't put up much of a fight. Water was a bit rough on the way back and at one point it didnt look like I was making any forward progress. But since the water was sooooo clear, I could see the floor and that assured me that I was, indeed, moving forward.

Race: This wetsuit makes me look fat!

Finally got out or the water in 1h34m. Now comes the difficult part: getting the suit off! Luckily, I had practiced this the day before and got out of the top part relatively easily. A quick run through the showers, grabbed my T1 bag and I was met by helpers in the change tent. These guys are great. They helped take the rest of the suit off, emptied your bag, and set about putting your stuff on. Before I knew what was going on, my race belt, helmet and shoes were already on! One guy was putting sun screen on, and another one was packing my swim stuff into the bag. And just like that, I was ready to go riding!

Out on the bike, I was going at a good clip. Within the first few kilometres, I was already passing people. I was averaging about 32-34km/h without exerting myself too much. With such a flat course doing a 6 hour bike shouldn't be a problem, right?

Wrong.

As I approached the 15km turnaround, I was pedaling along at about 35km/h. Hit the brakes for the very narrow u-turn, turned and suddenly my helmet was filled with the sound of the wind. I got out of the saddle to power on the pedals and the bike just didn't move. This must be the nastiest headwind I've ever encountered! I was pushing on the pedals like I was doing 40km/h but the speedo said, "Sorry, it's only 25!"

Race: Heading out towards the first turnaround, before facing the headwinds.

And that really was the story of my bike leg. Nice tailwinds heading east and north, nasty headwinds heading west and south. And the more I tried to pedal through the winds, the more tired my legs were getting. It was the same for everyone, but my legs just couldn't cope. The worse part is, the winds got stronger and stronger with each passing loop.

Race: End of first loop, can still smile.

At 100km, my legs cramped up. At this point, I was on pace to do a 6:30-6:40 bike. But now, I could no longer push the big gears without my my legs seizing up. I took salt tablets but it didn't seem to help. I had to just get through the next 80km and hope the legs don't completely seize up.

Race: Starting the second loop

The last 10k was probably the longest 10k I've ever had the pleasure of cycling. The headwinds heading back to town had really picked up and I was pushing on the pedals to just do 20km/h. I swear if I stopped pedaling, the wind would push me backwards! But it was difficult to keep pedaling because then my legs would seize up. I put the chain in the small ring and tried to spin all the way back. Anything to get home.

Arrived at T2 after 7h01m on the bike, and I couldn't even manage a flying dismount. As it was I couldn't even lift my legs over the saddle! Again, the helpers were wonderful. They held my bike while I slowly tried to get off. In the change tent, same thing. The helpers unpacked my bag, put my stuff on, repacked my bag and sent me off.

Race: First loop of the run leg, when I can still run!

Now this is where it gets exciting. I ran the first km ok then my legs cramped up again. That was the story of the run: run, cramp, walk, repeat. But throughout the 42k journey, the supporters lining the streets kept me going. At the beginning of every loop, you have to go into the town centre, right next to the finish line where they've erected grand stands and a large screen. The atmosphere here is electric! You hear the Voice of Ironman, Mike Reilly, announcing the finishers, you hear and see the crowd in the grandstands cheering on all the athletes, calling your name like they know you!

Race: Start of the last loop, reduced to a walk. 

I wondered how this was possible: how did they know my name? Did I meet them during these past few days and, in my delirium at the time, forget who they were? Then it dawned on me: my name was on my bib! So I responded back, slapped their outstretched hands, joked around with them a bit. And this happened all throughout the 42k, save for that lonely 4k stretch by the beach. When we ran (or walked, in my case) past the houses, the residents would come out and give us more of the same. On my last loop, one family even took out a string of coloured lights to mimic the finishing arch. I crossed it like I crossed the finish line and high-fived the whole family. Another household was blaring music and encouraged us to sing along. And when they saw you walking, they offered words of encouragement: "keep going", "you're going in the right direction", "you're still moving, that's all that matters". Here, the crowd would probably tell you to get on the bus!

Race: The finish line. Finally!

And so it was, with the help of my newfound friends, all of whom I don't know their names (though they certainly knew mine!), I finished the Ironman Western Australia in 15h20m, a personal best by 5 minutes but nowhere near the 13h32m target I had set for myself. I ran down that finishing chute, slapping high fives to every outstretched hand as I heard Mike Reilly yell, "Nik. Arif. Sidek. You. Are. An. Ironman!" over the PA system. I crossed the line and let out a primal roar. This was probably the hardest Ironman I've ever completed. The cold weather, the strong winds, the cramps didn't make things any easier.

Race: The finisher picture

But it was certainly one of the ones I enjoyed the most. The only thing that would have made it better was to have all my friends there to support as well. To the 1500 volunteers and countless supporters that day, this one's for you!

Post-race: All that money and effort for a towel, a t-shirt and a medal!

Post-race: The medal I worked so hard for

Post-race: "WE DID IT!" The Malaysian contingent

Photos courtesy of Claris and Finisherpix

Race Week

This Sunday, I'll be toeing the start line at Ironman Western Australia in Busselton. It'll be my 5th time starting an Ironman race, my first one overseas.

The final week heading into a race is always a tricky one. Without fail, my head will go through the same motions:
"Finally! Can't wait for the race!"
"Woo hoo! It's race week!"
"Taper time!"
"By this time next week, I'll be done!"
"Let's get this over and done with!"
"OMG! It's this week ah???!!!"
"Shit! Didn't train enough!"
"Oh no! I'm gonna die!"
"Die! Die! DIE!!!!"
"Taper?! What taper?! Didn't even train, want to taper ah!!!"
"Ok, still got one week, let's rack up more mileage!"

This last thought is the dangerous one. This is the week you're supposed to be resting and carbo-loading, workouts to be kept short and low intensity. And yet, your mind is saying, "Dude, you haven't trained enough, let's go get that ultra-long ride in, let's jump in the pool and do 5000m, we need that 35k run done."

Don't.

The temptation to go out and whack a the long miles will be strong this week. Especially when you know you haven't done enough. But at the same time, you also know you don't want to tire yourself out. And you want to stay injury-free (yesterday's short 10k run already put a strain on my left calf. Thankfully, it's all good now). I was already warned last week that I was heading towards burnout. A friend sent me a long email, saying she saw some of the danger signs I was displaying. The funny thing is, you don't see it yourself. You need someone to point it out for you. She also gave me some really good training advice. And when that advice comes from a Kona qualifier, you listen!

Now that race week is here, I'm going to do myself a favour, I'm going to do what I do best: be lazy! This Sunday will show whether I've trained enough.

Wish me luck!

PB at PM thanks to SSS.

I know the title of this post seems a bit weird, but read on and you'll be able to figure it out.

I just scored a personal best at one of the races I usually suffer at. In fact, I gave Powerman a miss last year because the mere thought of suffering through that second run was enough to make me wish I'd never started running. But for some inexplicable reason, I let my mouse wander over the registration button on the Powerman website and clicked it. Next thing I know, I'm registered for this year's event.

This year, I had the bonus of having my kids, Shafeeq and Shaqeel, come watch me race. And Senn was more than happy to give up racing to help babysit them while I was out there suffering.

Having them there really made a difference. For one thing, I didn't want them to see me fail again like what happened in Langkawi this year. So that gave me an extra incentive to do well. For another, having them there made it feel like we were on holiday, so I was completely relaxed the night before and didn't feel any pressure. And also, having them there made me want to hurry back to the stadium so I could see them and I knew the boys were going to be restless waiting, so I knew I needed to hurry through the race to save them from prolonged restlessness!

Shafeeq and Shaqeel with me at the start.

I was one of the last ones to start the race because I was giving instructions to the boys to listen to Senn when the gun went off. The first run was in cool conditions from the rain that just stopped. Within the first k I found Azmar and Fadil, so just paced with them throughout. We were running a decent pace, about 5:45min/km which may have been just a bit too fast, but I felt good and we continued. At the end of the first loop, there were Senn, Shafeeq and Shaqeel waiting for me. Boys looked quite happy to see me and that made me feel good. High-fived them and it was off for another loop. Another half an hour before I see them again.

More of the same on the second loop and we finished the run in one hour flat. A little faster than I had intended but it was ok. Off with the running shoes, on with the helmet and grabbed the bike. And there, at the bike exit, were the best support crew in the world: Senn, Shafeeq and Shaqeel. Another round of high-fives and I was off on the bike. One hour before I finish the first loop and see them again.

The first loop was pretty uneventful. Was going at a steady clip of about 32-36km/h. Legs felt good, aero position felt good. Got over the bridges without drama and headed back. Azmar passed me going up the bridge and I just couldn't hang on to him. But no big deal, just run my own race. Fadil, too, passed me on the way back to Manjung and again, I didn't even attempt to chase. Got back to the stadium and saw the boys and Senn again. Gave them a wave and I was off on the second loop. Another hour before I see them again.

Really getting into the spirit of the race!

Second loop wasn't so smooth. I could feel my calves starting to cramp up. Squirted some water on them and the cramps went away. Then I heard a thud behind me and AJ yelling I'd dropped something. At first I thought it was a water bottle, so I went on since I didn't really need that. Turns out it was my gel flask. That I need! So had to stop, lay the bike down, and run back the 20 or so metres to retrieve the bottle. Cost me a minute or two and about 10 riders passed me. Got back on the bike and it took a while for my legs to get back into the rhythm. Once I did, I caught up with the riders who passed me and was going back and forth with this lady on a Cervelo S2, being careful to stay out of her 7m draft zone. We were like this all the way back to T2. I gave it all I could since I knew my second run was going to be screwed anyway, thanks to the cramps that were developing in my legs.

After 2h07m I was back in transition. And as usual, there were my SSS (Senn, Shafeeq and Shaqeel) support crew out by the run exit. Gave the boys a quick hug (much to their disgust!), and I was off for the second run. Senn told me she was going to take the boys back to the car to rest. That was my cue to try and finish as quickly as I can. Wouldn't want the boys to get too restless.

The first km was quite tough and I was thinking, "Oh no! Here we go again! This is why I don't like to do Powerman." The crampy feeling had moved up to my thighs and it was getting really hard to run. But I refused to walk, walking would have been the end of it and the SSS support crew would have to wait two hours for my return. Not gonna happen. So I shuffled along to the first water station where there was a medic holding up that spray, so I told him to give me everything he's got. I swear that's a miracle spray because after that, the pain was gone. I just had to tell myself to run to the next water station, take a drink, then run to the next. And that's what I kept doing. Saw SSS by the car at the end of the first loop and gave them a wave. By now my pace was between 6:15-6:30min/km. All I had to do now was maintain this pace and I'll be able to see SSS in half an hour.

Waiting for their slow-ass dad to finish the race.

It's quite amazing what the mind can do. By now, the sun was out in full force, and my legs were getting really tired. But I just kept telling myself to run to the next station, run to the next station, run to the next station (it also helped that there were more water stations this year!). My mind refused to let me stop and walk. Just wanted to go see SSS as quickly as I could. And before I knew it, I was rounding the final corner and heading into the stadium. As I turned into the finishing chute, I saw, just beyond the finish line, SSS. It was all I needed to pick up speed and cross that line. Nailed the second run in 1h06m for a total time of 4h17m. A PB by half an hour.

Finally! Can we go home now???!!!

And I owe it all to having the boys there and to Senn for having to put up with their restlessness. Please forgive her if she wasn't as chatty as usual, she had to put up with my boys' boredom. And that was not an easy task to do. Thank you, baby, for putting up with that so I could go racing. I owe you big time!

In case you haven't figured out what the title of this post means, it means Personal Best at PowerMan thanks to Senn, Shafeeq and Shaqeel.

Pictures courtesy of Senn.