A fair few days have passed since my first Ironman Triathlon, held in the quiet coastal town of Busselton in south-western Australia. I have only now given up on the idea of awaking from a dream to find myself in Busselton awaiting the big race. Yes, that’s correct, I think I am just, ever so slowly, beginning to realise that it really did happen. Of course if it was in fact just a dream, I would have now most certainly have set some form of record for time asleep, and missed the race. Anyway I am sure I’m awake so on with the story…

    I have wanted to race an Ironman Triathlon since I watched Ironman Australia in Forster back in 2005. I clearly remember watching Mel Ashton cross the finish line in 2nd, first Aussie woman home. I had goose pimples and tears welling in my eyes, clearly it had a significant impact on me. I wanted to know what it was like to race in front of all those people, to push my body through those crazy distances, but most importantly to experience the emotions that Mel must have been feeling at that very moment. I had raced a couple of sprint distance triathlons earlier that year, was 19 years old, and had absolutely no idea that this one day would take me on a journey that would shape the rest of my life.

So why, you ask, has it taken me 4 years to enter my first Ironman? Well that’s a very long story, but lets just say that shortly after watching Forster IM I discovered the world of adventure racing; mountain biking, surf ski paddling, off road courses in beautiful, remote locations; and fell in love with the sport. Oh, not to forget breaking just about every bone in my body (I think there are a few still in tact), taking on motor vehicles with box trailers (not recommended), coming very close to dying in China from bacterial poisoning (sorry IM China is not on my list of races to do), having a heart attack (yeah that one was scary) and discovering that assuming the fetal position after almost every training session was not normal (if you have coeliac disease you should probably find out about it, sooner rather than later). So I guess you could say that I took up hurdling for a few years to prepare myself for Ironman first; all experiences that have shaped me as a person and as an athlete.

So back to Busselton, the next town up from Dunsborough, where I won my three consecutive Anaconda Adventure Races from 2006 – 2008. My favourite race location with pristine clear blue water, clean white sand, and spectacular sun sets. The Western Australian people have a special place in my heart, having made me feel so welcome in past years racing on their home soil. Ironman WA was an easy choice for my first Ironman race, and 2009 was the perfect year with the Anaconda moving south to Augusta.

My preparation for this race had gone pretty well; weekly physio visits became the norm, massages were never neglected, and although at times my body appeared to be fighting me . . . I was winning! There were lots of changes from preparing for an adventure race, like riding a time trial bike, using a heart rate monitor, and having to think about where I could ride on a flat course around the Northern Beaches. Not to mention having to turn down numerous invitations to go mountain biking or surf paddling! All in all though I was enjoying the new challenge and couldn’t wait to see what all the fuss was about with Ironman racing.

Busselton turned on the heat race morning and the clear blue waters beckoned competitors for the 6 am start. I was a blubbering mess of nerves for the fear of the unknown, ironic really considering that I often race 2 days straight with no idea of where we are going, what we will encounter, or how many times I will wish I was any where but in the middle of no where! Although this was a new unknown, and it was the marathon (of which I had never run before) that was commanding my full respect. I mean honestly, 42.2 km is a very long way!

I can’t, and won’t even attempt to explain what happened at the start of the swim leg. I do however remember thinking “this isn’t that fast”, but don’t remember when or how everyone seemed to disappear in a puff of smoke. I was on my own, in open water, and the field was definitely not behind me. Shucks, this wasn’t part of the plan! Clearly I have to work on this little hiccup for future racing. One thing I’ve learnt in adventure racing is that anything can, and will, happen, at the most inconvenient of times, and you just have to deal with it. Dwelling on the things that don’t go to plan is a waste of time and energy, energy you could use to your benefit. So I continued the swim directly out to sea and around the pier, through the washing machine like waters that the ocean presented, and back to the beach which I was overjoyed to at last reach. I reflected only to note that I must purchase some prescription goggles, so that should this happen again I can see where I am going! Yes I am blind as a bat and living in denial, it’s OK, no one’s perfect.

Starting the 180 km bike leg in 7th position, I was about 10 minutes down on last years winner, Gina Crawford from New Zealand. My swim was long forgotten, and I found myself relaxed and excited about the race ahead. The plan was to ride myself back into the race, and that’s exactly what I set about doing. Starting out at a solid but comfortable pace I found myself in 4th position by the end of lap 1, 5 minutes ahead of my predicted best lap split. So yes I was a little nervous that I had started a bit fast, but I felt great, strong, comfortable, in actual fact I was having a blast! I was riding by myself, moving up the field, and enjoying my first IM experience. This is what it was all about!

Lap 2 took me into 2nd position, with Sarah Pollett, the eventual 3rd place getter, making me work a little harder than the other girls to put some distance into. Seems I flew in under the radar going out onto my third lap, with family and friends at home seeing no sign of my progress in the live web updates. Luckily mum was in town watching and so could assure them I was in 2nd, and although still 9:30 down on Gina, had a big smile on my face; all was well. This was the lap where I intended to make my move, so with some help from my caffeinated friends it was head down for the final 60km of rubber burning madness. I believed in my ability to race a strong second half of the bike leg, and this I did reeling Gina in by a good 5 minutes, although not enough to make contact before the start of the marathon. I will have to ride harder next time!

I have never run a marathon, let alone after a 3.8 km swim and a 180 km bike. So you can imagine that my usually high level of confidence was squashed much alike the possums I see on my morning rides at this point of the race. Equally as fearful of the sun, which on this particular day was doing it’s best to burn a hole in the road, I made sure to slap on enough sunscreen to look akin to a snowman. I tore out of transition in pursuit of Gina, OK no, sorry that is incorrect; I tore out of transition running scared! In all honesty I was waiting for the field to swallow me whole and spit me out, just like the fly I encountered a couple of hours later.

Despite this fear, much like the monster hiding under your bed when you’re a small child, the field never actually swallowed me whole. In fact I held my position of 2nd place for an entire 3 hours and 20 minutes, holding off what was in average about a minute back to 3rd place the entire run. The spectators along the course were fantastic support, although I never really believed that I looked good and was running fast . . . no I would not describe it that way at all! Ice cubes became my very best of friends, even if they didn’t seem to return the love, disappearing almost as quickly as I picked them up. Flies on the other hand did appear to like me, it’s just a shame they weren’t part of my nutrition plan. There’s something not quite right about six little legs crawling at the back of your throat, yuk! So I continued the viscous cycle of dreaming about aid stations, water, ice, coke, dreaming of aid stations and repeat. Oh and there was the occasional relief provided by some garden hoses and people dressed up in funny costumes trying to shoot me with water! Thank you, perhaps one day I will be able to return the favour.

Reaching the finish chute was an incredibly welcomed moment, and although keeping an eye on my back it was great to soak it up and share the moment with the enthusiastic children hanging out their small hands for high 5’s. All of the hard work, the hours of time dedicated to training, the endless debates over reasons why and why not to make the switch from adventure racing to triathlon . . . and I didn’t even look at my time! I am told this is a criminal offense in the land of IM racing, but I was never arrested so assume I’m safe. In fact I had finished, congratulated 3rd place getter Sarah on finishing, been whisked off to the medical tent to melt some more ice as my body was as hot as an Aussie Summer BBQ, and I still hadn’t even considered my finishing time. I almost collapsed when they told me, it was only then that I became non responsive and required an IV, which after about half way through I announced that I was bored and would like to leave, if that was OK!?

So one down, many more to go, and now I know what all the fuss is about! A big thank you to all of my family and friends for providing an incredible amount of support, I think my phone worked harder than myself last weekend, it really blew me away. A very big thanks to all of the volunteers who gave up their day to have people endlessly yell “water, coke, BANANA!” (yep loved those bananas!), and to the supporters who came to the race to cheer us to the finish line, squirt us with water, and tell us how good we looked, even if it was a little fib. Finally a thank you to all the other athletes out on the course, I enjoyed sharing the day with you, and especially my competitors, for giving me someone to chase and to run away from!