Ironman New Zealand
5 March 2011
Race Report – Ali Boggs
OK – this race report has been delayed in the writing as I simply didn’t know where to start. In 8 Ironmans, 5 of them have varied from disappointing to devastating. I am the queen of bad luck and I just can’t believe No. 8 was thwarted with both bad luck and bad management… it never gets easier! If it wasn’t for the many, many familiar faces along the course, I would have pulled the pin on the race at T2. Thanks to all the support out there in absolutely atrocious conditions – you guys deserve the medal WAY more than I do. The appropriate initials beside my name this year should have been DNF, but my stubborn ‘do or die’ attitude made me finish. The doctors in medical were very surprised that I crossed the line instead of being delivered in an ambulance…that pretty much sums up my day. About 10mins after crossing the line, I finally mustered the energy to ask ‘what time is it?’ – I had absolutely no idea what my finish time was, I was convinced it must have been about 10.00pm. I actually laughed out loud when they said it was 7.20pm – I had already been in for about 10mins so I figured I had ‘burgled’ the bloody thing, yet again, in just over 12hrs.
12hrs 12mins and 10secs was not the goal time, but upon a few days of reflection, I realise now that I indeed did not deserve that ‘respectable’ time given my preparation, injury, illness, atrocious weather conditions and the total mind warp during the race concerning my nutrition. Special, special thanks and total admiration must go to my Mum, Dad, sister Lois and friends who bunny hopped me in the car on lap 1 of the run, Lois who bunny hopped me on a mountain bike in lap 2, and Laura and the Hibiscus Coast support crew who did the same… I think the ambulance was due at about the 28km mark as the vision had gone, the tank was empty, the pain in my chest immense, and all logic had disappeared…if you guys were not with me I would be owing St John $75 for the ride. Thanks guys! I owe ya!
So let’s try to make this quick – yeah, right! 3 weeks prior I did a race simulation in Taupo with Coach Jon Ackland’s team, including the likes of Sam Warriner, Torrenzo Bozzone, Mark Bowstead, (had to drop those in there). I did the sim holding my insides in, barely, thinking I had a touch of food poisoning. Two weeks down the track with no improvement I realised my hibernating Giardia bug had reared it’s ugly head again and had my intestines by the balls! So 10 days out from the race, it was off to the Dr to get a course of Flagyl prescribed, and whallop, the energy drained from my muscles and I felt like crap from then on in. That doubled with the voltarin for my inflamed Achilles, I think my kidneys were doomed from the start….
My running has been doomed since Feb last year, and with diagnosis of tendonopathy in both legs requiring surgery just recently, I resorted to the pool to do hours of aquajogging immediately after Christmas. I managed 20kms on the road 3 weeks ago, and decided to give the race a go anyway. Coach Jon wanted me to DNF at 21kms if my pace slowed down or the pain was too intense, so that was the plan for the day….
Wed, Thur Fri requires a certain level of fluid/electrolyte intake, which has worked like a dream for all my races. I stuck to the plan, but felt really bad during Thurs, and felt that Fri I should cut back, which I did. Friday came and I was barely peeing – something was up, so I decided to drink some more in the evening, but still no peeing. It was the first race night that I didn’t get up to pee – not even once – slept like a baby. I weighed myself in the morning and was surprised to see I was 2kg heavier than 2 days prior, and I still hardly peed. Things were not looking good. I think it was at this moment the alarm bells should have gone off, the drugs I had taken obviously had already troubled my kidneys…
So, the energiser bunny trundles off to the race, full of all the joys of spring, in torrential rain, along with 1600 other poor bastards. I was in good spirits and was ready to rumble – don’t sweat the small stuff, so they say. I had a secret weapon organised for warmth which worked a treat, and I was suited up and in the water at 6.40 for a planned warm up swim. I felt TERRIBLE – I tried the ‘all-telling’ butterfly, and I couldn’t even get my arms out of the water. Oh dear, I thought – tapered, bouncing off walls, ready to race…MY ARSE! I knew something was wrong, put it to one side and got on with the business as usual.
BANG – canon gone, swim start…NICE! Things were going nicely, hit a wall of blokes that had gone out way to fast at about 500m, got through them, lead a pack to catch the bunch 30m ahead, trucking along nicely. Turned for return leg and tried to wind things up. I knew I was travelling at a good pace, but the effort I wanted to put out was not happening. Just couldn’t generate any force on my catch and the kick was pathetic. Popped out of the water 12th age group woman overall, first in age group in 58mins 18sec. Not too shabby.
The 400m run to T1 was the most exciting part of the race, and better than any other. The crowd was HUGE! Brollies, rain coats, and a tiny carpet strip like a Tour de France hill climb. What a HUGE buzz – electrifying! All I could hear was GO ALI, AWSOME SWIM ALI – I was fizzing, but felt like I was hauling a 10 tonne trout behind me.
Good T1 (fastest in age group) and out on bike. The rain was horrendous. Everything was bad. Can’t say anything good about it apart from being surprised at how the pro race was panning out. Entertaining stuff. I felt really bad for first hour, then suddenly came right and smoked the rest of the lap. Felt great, came through town fizzing and ready to nail lap 2.
Heading for Reporoa in the head wind was not good. Energy waining, splinters and needles of powerful rain in my eyes at 50+km per hour, I wanted to curl up and die – so the drama unfolds as I started to drink and eat, drink and eat, more and more to get the energy levels up. I did pee, but not much, so I think this is where the carnage began. Coming home up the hill, I felt rotten, my Achilles started giving me grief and I was not a happy camper. Fortunately, I didn’t feel too cold as I had my Blueseventy toe covers on and good clothing on top.
Into town, then thank goodness, I could get off the 180km bike in 5hrs 56mins 36secs – a good 20mins over my goal pace. Bugger.
Slick transition, fastest in agegroup yet again, and out on the run. The rain still poured down, the puddles were huge, my shoes soaked in less than 20secs! The crowd went wild – what a buzz – if only I could stop and tell them all I was not a happy camper. Seeing Maddie Dillon screaming for me gave me a huge boost, given I have screamed for her at many races over the last 3 years, so off I went, determined to run a steady Eddie pace and try and secure a podium. Well, that was the plan. At 5kms, the wheels fell off. My chest was screaming, it felt like an elephant was sitting on it and I could not get any air. My pace slowed dramatically, but I kept running. At 16kms I decided that things were not good and I would DNF at 21kms, in town, where I could find a warm blanket and go to sleep. Laura called out that I was still in 5th place and 2nd place was walking. OMG. I was still in this bloody race so I better harden up and give this thing a nudge. So that I did, into town, back out again for lap two, determined to keep on. My garmin was telling me that my pace was declining fast, every kilometre, yet my legs felt fine and I wanted to move them faster, but there was nothing in the tank. My chest got worse, and I had to start walking up the hills as a power walk was faster than my jog. By 30kms I was crying, wanted to stop, but knew I would get hypothermia if I stopped so just kept moving forward. I had been passed by about 3 girls in my age at that point, and I knew it was over.
I decided at the turn around that all the training, all the money, all the pain was simply not worth the initials of DNF, so I had better keep going to get the medal and the t-shirt to commemorate the effort. So I did. I just got slower and slower, and drank more and more and more and more as I thought I needed it to keep going. The mind is a cruel thing. I thought I was making the right decisions, but clearly it was so, so wrong. Great to see the hibiscus coasters out on the course, my sister there on the bike and Laura monitoring my progress like a good nurse should. Her face showed me that she was concerned, so I knew I looked really, really bad. She told me later I was just, ‘YELLOW’.
With 3 k’s to go I thought I was not going to make it. The temperature had plummeted, I was freezing, I couldn’t get any air at all, my chest was burning….so I drank some more! More coke and a banana! That should do it. Head winds, icy cold, and toast. That stretch along the waterfront was immense. Then the finisher’s chute, my friends and family screaming, and it was all worth it. What an achievement I thought, despite how late in the night it was (or wasn’t as it turned out).
Opps – then I dropped to the ground on the line and was in a hysterical mess. I was hauled into the tent by about 3 people to be weighed and I was 5kgs over (although 2 of that would have been water in my shoes and clothes). Then rushed into medical where I was wrapped up with blankets and 5 hot water bottles and the questions began. Dr Dan was drop dead gorgeous, but he couldn’t hide his bewilderment that I had finished after he diagnosed the pulmonary oedema (fluid on the lungs), listened to my bradicardia arrhythmia heart rhythm, and juggled the flagyl/voltarin cocktail in his mind. So I was off to the Army medical area where I was wired up for an ECG, which apparently entertained all in the building! My oxygen count was too low (that would explain why I had no energy) so I was put on oxygen until the levels increased to normal, and was discharged 3 hrs later after I had peed and warmed up. They said I would feel better once I had peed and they were right. I peed all NIGHT! Felt GREAT in the morning, ready to race again!
So, if by reading this we have learned one thing – feeling like crap does not necessarily mean you need fluid. Monitor your intake carefully, and make decisions based on your input, heat of the day, and energy output. A simple, simple thing, but when your kidneys are already not working properly (and this usually happens to everyone somewhere during the run), and you are already in la la land, these decisions can be somewhat blurred. I hope none of you go through what I did, it was not a pleasant experience. However, as I lay in the sun in my beautiful beach house this week, note that I have 2 arms, 2 legs, adequate vision, wonderful friends, and yet another Ironman Medal, I can feel proud of myself, and grateful of my circumstances.
Life is a wonderful thing, and it’s about trying new things, pushing the limits in everything you do, just to see how far you can go and where it will take you. Mine took me to a happy place, lying on a beanbag, in the sun with Darcy Dog beside me….BLISS!
Thanks everyone – you totally rock my world – love ya!
· 12hrs 12mins and 10 Second – 9th in age from 49, 97th female, 727th overall
· Swim 58mins 18 sec – 12th agegroup woman, 1st in age
· T1 – 4mins 58 – 1st in age
· Bike 5hrs 56mins 36 sec – 5th in age
· T2 2mins 19sec – 1st in age
· Run 5hrs 10mins and 01sec – 19 in age
· View pictures at http://www.asiorders.com/view_user_event.asp?EVENTID=75434&BIB=1023&S=230&PWD=
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Ironman Summary:
2006 – New Zealand – Swim Cancelled, bike and run halved – devastated – 5hrs something – who cares?
2006 – Australia – Brilliant – 12hrs 10
2007 – New Zealand – Brilliant apart from massive deep blood blisters in both feet! – 11hrs 25
2007 – Hawaii – Brilliant but BLOODY hard work – 11hrs 49 – PB marathon!
2008 – New Zealand – Giardia for 3 weeks prior, Wind and rain, puncture, hip injury, agony – 11hrs 42
2009 – Western Australia – 40 degrees, diarrhoea for 5 days before, Back injury during race – agony – 11hrs 57
2010 – New Zealand – Windy – Torn Achilles week before race – agony – personal worst 12hrs 47
2011 – New Zealand – Bitterly cold, windy torrential rain, Giardia for 3 weeks prior, limited or no running for 12 months prior, aquajogging for 2 months prior – pulmonary oedema (fluid on lungs) due to over hydration – 12hrs 12 – a miracle!
2012 – Break
2013 – A hot Ironman – maybe Malaysia or Australia again……
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