Bit late but thought that people might be interested in reading Macca’s race report from China 70.3. He describes it as “without question the toughest triathlon event I have ever done for so many reasons.”
http://www.xtri.com/features_display.aspx?riIDReport=5555&CAT=21&xref=xx
Awesome…I can’t wait to see an Ironman race report from that race.
Wow … sounds like fun.
Ok, you asked for it (and apologies in advance for the length):
"I wasn’t really planning on writing a race report, but yesterday’s race was such an epic day it seemed a shame to let it pass without recording my thoughts. First, a couple of stats before we get into the details:
· 355 registered for the IM race (there was a 70.3 race run the same day), 217 finishers - so around 40% DNF rate. Probably the highest of any IM race.
· maximum temperature on the course - 45 degrees
· amount of promised shade on the run - none
· fastest run split – 3:35
· general agreement of everyone I’ve spoken to is that this was the toughest thing they’ve ever done. Macca did the 70.3 race and only managed a 1:27 run. He said he’d never done a harder race.
The lead-up
IM China takes place in Haikou, on Hainan Island, off the south coast of China. It’s only the second year of the race.
I arrived in Haikou on the Tuesday before the race, and my first thoughts were “this isn’t that hot”. And it wasn’t. Every day leading up to race day on Sunday was 25 degrees or so, some rain and plenty of cloud cover. So I was convinced last year’s conditions were an aberration.
The language barrier certainly presents issues for the travelling triathlete. Flying through the back streets of Haikou in a taxi looking for a bike shop that might stock CO2 cartridges really was an exercise in futility. And speaking of driving, while the roads here really are excellent, the driving has to be seen to be believed. The law that says you should drive on the right is nothing more than a suggestion. I went out for a quick spin the day before the race. It was bucketing down with rain and visibility was poor. Down on the aerobars, I looked up to see a tuk-tuk coming straight for me, with village workers hanging off every part of the frame. Thankfully, given its top speed of about 12kph, I had time to swerve.
Most of the athletes doing the race stayed at the host hotel, the Crown Spa Resort, somewhat inconveniently located about 30 minutes out of town and about 15 minutes from the race start. While there were regular buses shuttling us wherever we needed to go, it was a bit of a pain when we had to load 350 of us, and our bikes, on the buses on the Saturday.
I did a couple of swims on the swim course in the Nandu River in the lead-up week. Now, I have to say that the prospect of swimming in a river in China fills me with some trepidation. Applying the good old swim stroke test (how much of my arm can I see when I’m swimming), the Nandu rates an elbow. Hell, even Langkawi scored a wrist! But visibility was never the issue. In fact there were two issues – water temperature and current. The water is 26 degrees. Bath temperature to us Kiwis. Wetsuits were allowed but not recommended due to the risk of over heating. I was prepared to take the risk given the extra buoyancy of a wetsuit. But, even after one lap of the two lap course, I was uncomfortable.
The second, and bigger, issue was the current. The current ran at about 2kmh, which, if you’re a two hour IM swimmer, is about as fast as you’re swimming. So some real issues for the weaker swimmers given the (sort of) rectangular course. Having observed some farcical efforts by swimmers of all abilities to swim the marked course, the organisers decided to take out a couple of hundred metres from the return (against the current) leg. The concern was that the weaker swimmers just wouldn’t make it. Instead, we would swim to the shore, run those 200m, and re-enter upstream. Now, as many of you know, I’m no great swimmer. But I did think that a 3400m IM swim (400m short) was not right.
Race day
It was clear right from the time I first walked outside on race morning that something was different. It was already very warm, we could see the stars (so no cloud cover) and there was a steady wind. Ominous.
We jumped aboard the buses to the race start. As all triathletes know, one of the very first ports of call on race morning is the port-a-loos. 350 athletes, 6 port-a-loos. Bad maths. Didn’t matter anyway as the loos were locked and no-one knew where the keys were. So we proceeded to add to China’s environmental problems.
Swim
I mentioned the water temperature issue. Compounding the problem is the rule that says you must wear the rubber swim cap provided. Unfortunately for me, my cap accidently was ripped clean off my head in the melee that was the race start. Tragic. Anyway, I had learned from my practice swims the angles that I needed to swim to hit the buoys around the course. I hit the first one spot on. But for the second one I was about 10m downstream and had to swim into the current to round it. It was a comical moment with me and half a dozen others splashing frantically but making minimal headway – like we were in an endless pool. I would have laughed if I wasn’t too busy trying not to swallow any of the water.
Then, once round the second buoy, we were given an armchair ride downstream. Floating high in a wetsuit, didn’t really need to swim. Then we turned 90 degrees again to swim perpendicular to the river bank. This is where things got interesting. Those who decided (and God knows why) to aim straight for the buoys found themselves way downstream. Some never made it back. There were jet skis stationed downstream to pick up these people.
The fourth leg of the course was the shortened one than ran parallel to the river bank. The idea was to swim up 100m or so against the current, round a buoy, then head for shore for the run before starting lap two. It was here that I saw the most disgraceful show of blatant cheating I’ve ever seen in any race. Rather than swimming the 100m of the against-the-current leg, people just made straight for the shore, ignored the buoy, walked in knee deep water until the run part, then ran to the re-entry point. And I’m not just talking about one or two cheaters. Scores. Lots of spectators (and, I guess, organisers) saw them. No-one did anything. What’s more, some people (probably the same ones) just decided it was too hard to hit both buoys at the top (upstream part) of the course, so just cut a diagonal line to the next buoy. I just hope none of these cheats deprived anyone of a Kona slot. It just staggers me that someone would devote so much time and energy to train for an event like this and then deprive themself of the satisfaction they would otherwise deserve all for the sake of saving three minutes.
This explains some of the fast swim times. That said, given the run element, and with good navigation, it was a fast course. Hell, even I did a 57.
It was nice to take the wetsuit off at the end of the swim. I was definitely cooking.
Bike
As I mentioned, the roads here really are excellent. On a windless day, this would be a very fast course. It’s two loops. The first part takes you down alongside the river until the road links up with the Haikou Expressway. This is a pristine, three lane highway that we had to ourselves on race day. It undulates but tracks gradually upwards. After about 35kms into the loop, you exit the Expressway and head up some short climbs through two rural villages – Shi Shan and Dao Tang. This was the highlight of the bike course. The villagers were out in force to support us, especially the kids. We had visited Shi Shan a few days before the race, and it really was very cool. These people don’t see a lot of Westerners and Lord knows what they think when a procession of lycra-clad prima donnas on their carbon fibre steeds comes flying through their village. Whatever they thought, they were very gracious.
I knew the day was shaping up to be a scorcher, so I was not trying to push the pace on the bike. That would only come back and bite me later. Given the relatively small size of the field, riders were well spread out and Jurgen Zach didn’t have much to do as drafting marshall. The wind picked up on the second loop. I rode 2:35 for the first loop and 2:46 for the second – 5:21 total.
Run
I didn’t appreciate how hot it was until I exited T2 for the start of the run. The run course was changed just a few days before the race to cut out a section that was the subject of some local land protests. The new course was simpler, but mentally more taxing. All but 8km or so was an airless section along the banks of the Nandu River. The carnage started early. People (pros included) were walking way earlier than I’ve seen before. It was the hottest part of the day and there was no cloud cover whatsoever. I’ve done a few hot races (Kona, Malaysia, Lanzarote), but nothing compared to this.
I think the heat factor was exacerbated by the distance between aid stations. Frankly, it’s irresponsible to have aid stations 2km apart on a course like that. If you haven’t raced in conditions like this, you won’t believe how much serious meltdown can occur over those 2kms. Anyway, what that meant was that I loaded up at every aid station. I generally ran off with a big bottle of water, which at least kept me doused for part of the way to the next stop.
I don’t think the organisers were truly ready for the carnage on the roads. I spoke to one guy who pulled out mid run at an aid station and requested that an ambulance be called. He was clearly not in a good way. But he was told he’d have to make his way to the finish line (about 10kms away) to get help.
I had had a niggling hip injury since IM Malaysia. That had kept me from doing any long runs and had forced me to do enough aqua jogging that I had to buy a waterproof case for my iPod to preserve my sanity. Even so, as always, my goal was to run the entire marathon. But I didn’t. I just couldn’t. And, by “couldn’t”, I don’t mean mentally. The spirit was willing. But the flesh was weak. The urge to walk was overwhelming but I managed to hold off my first walking stint until about 35km in. I’d convinced myself that, given the pace that everyone around me was “running” at, a brisk walk was actually quite competitive. And it was. But I hate walking the run, so made several half-arsed attempts to get running again. I was doubled over like those old guys who finish in 16:59 on the stroke of midnight, but at least I was running. Not in a straight line though. Probably tacked on an extra 500m in those last few kms. The final section of the run is through a section of streets in downtown Haikou, into the People’s Park (another strange thing about this race – the finish and T1/2 are miles apart). I was determined to look respectable for the finishing shute.
I crossed the line in 10:47. A 4:20 marathon. Almost an hour off my PB. My first IM marathon was only 3 minutes slower. But talk about apples and oranges! You know you’re in a tough race when they greet you at the finish line with a wheel chair. I was very happy to oblige and take it. I knew I was pretty toasted but didn’t fully appreciate how much. I was wheeled to a stretcher to recover and given an IV. The medical tent was full already. Given that I was 26th across the line, that shows what a busy day these guys had in store for them. Anyway, to cut a long story short (and in large part to spare the graphic details from my Mum), the medics didn’t like what they saw and, before long, I was being whisked in an ambulance to Haikou Hospital for endless blood tests, ECGs, and IVs. And boy did I see some sorry sights being wheeled in from the race. The language barrier made for some interesting discussions at the hospital. I asked a number of times if I could leave and all I got back was a shake of the head, a frown, and the response “you have bad heart”. Slightly unsettling, but hopefully misguided. They finally let me go at 1:30am.
Thus ended a very long, and very epic, day. Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
Post script - managed third in my age group and was happy to let my Kona slot roll down to a very grateful Japanese guy."
great report! way to hang tough out there.
Nice report. 3rd place way to tough it out. Sounds like a definite brutal day. Who knows with all these reports, a lot more people might sign up next year just to say they’ve done it.
Swim
I mentioned the water temperature issue. Compounding the problem is the rule that says you must wear the rubber swim cap provided. Unfortunately for me, my cap accidently was ripped clean off my head in the melee that was the race start. Tragic. Anyway, I had learned from my practice swims the angles that I needed to swim to hit the buoys around the course. I hit the first one spot on. But for the second one I was about 10m downstream and had to swim into the current to round it. It was a comical moment with me and half a dozen others splashing frantically but making minimal headway – like we were in an endless pool. I would have laughed if I wasn’t too busy trying not to swallow any of the water.
Great RR! I was laughing at this image, along with the "Tragic" comment. ;)
John