Mizuno Taupo Half-Marathon
What is it with getting sick ahead of big
events? I suffered through the after effects of a head cold in the Wellington
half-marathon back in June and on the Thursday before the Taupo half-marathon
of last week the signs were not good… there was that tingle in the throat and
general feeling that something wasn’t right with body. By Saturday I had a
full-blown head cold again. Ever optimistic that I might wake up feeling better
for the run on Sunday I hopped in the car for the long drive up to Taupo.
The general plan upon arrival would have
been to register for the run and then spend the rest of the afternoon indulging
in some photography. The camera never came out of its bag though. Instead,
after a stop at the supermarket to grab supplies for the drive home again, I
retreated to my motel room and the comfort of bed, TV and some music on my
laptop. Come morning, after a restless
night coughing, I was worse not better. I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower where a
decent coughing fit began to expunge my body of all the horrible fluoro shit
that had built up in my throat overnight. Despite this, I continued dressing to run and headed on down
to the start area. I was early
enough that I had a good 45 minutes to contemplate my state of health and
decide whether or not to pull the plug. To be honest I felt like shit and when
I turned on my Garmin my heart-rate was about 30 beats a minute higher than it
should have been. In hindsight I should have accepted the signs and withdrawn
from the run with my dignity intact. However, the thought of driving such a
long distance to not run combined with the mood setting sounds of Daft Punk’s Alive 2007 album (possibly one of the greatest live performance albums of all
time I might add), saw me leave the warmth of the car and head on down to the
start line.
This day offered up perfect conditions for
running. It was cool, overcast and there was barely a breath of wind. The course
itself was fantastic! Out along the highway (for the most part) to the
turnaround at 5 Mile Bay past the airport and back again along the waterfront
reserve to the finish at Tongariro Domain in the centre of town. It‘s a shame that my body wasn’t in sync
though. I set off at an easy pace and felt pretty ok considering. But I noticed
that whilst my heart rate was high whilst sitting in the car doing nothing, I
now struggled to get it up to what I expect when I’m running. Typically I run
with a heart-rate in the high 150s to low 160s range. Today it seemed like 145 was an
impenetrable barrier. But I battled on… at a slower pace than I’d hoped for.
The end came pretty quickly once the
coughing started at about 15 kilometres in. I went from feeling averagely below
par to like death in an instant. Then, just before the 18km mark, for the first
time in an organised road event, I found myself reduced to a humiliating walk
and any chance of maintaining any semblance of a respectable time rapidly
disappeared. I tried to muster little bursts of running (if you could call it
that), but it was a struggle and the small rise from the marina up to the
Tongariro Domain entrance loomed like a cliff face. I battled on and managed to
jog the last few hundred metres to the finish line.
The finisher’s medal just added to my
burden. It didn’t feel deserved. I felt humiliated and destroyed, not relieved
and proud to have achieved another half-marathon result.
I stumbled back to the car now facing the
daunting prospect of having to drive the 4 ½ hours back home to Wellington. Firstly though I had to
summon the courage to respond to the texts of encouragement and congratulations
that had been building up on my phone while I was out on the road. I hope I put
on enough of a brave face with my responses to those who were supporting me!
In at least one good moment of forethought
I had loaded the car with an ample supply of liquids and sugary treats to
rapidly recharge the body, and to keep it going for the trip home. First up was
a can of Red Bull… gone in a matter of seconds as I struggled into some warm
dry clothes. Knowing that there was no way that I could just turn on the engine
and drive away as I had done after the Tauhara Trail Run a few weeks earlier, I
just sat in the driver’s seat suckling on a bottle of water and scoffing back a
banana and the occasional wine gum or M&M. I might have even had a nap. At least I wasn’t alone in
suffering. The person in the car parked alongside arrived back shortly after I
did, hopped in and fully reclined her seat for a proper sleep. She was still in
this position when I finally had the strength to face the drive home, after a
good hour plus of rest and replenishment.
I survived the drive home and even made it to work the next day. But only for a couple of hours. I was in a bad way and spent the next couple of days moving only between bed and the couch!!
So half-marathon number three of 2013 is
going to be remembered for all the wrong reasons. At least by finishing I now
have two of the three events needed for the 63.3, three halves in three months
series in the bag. Next up is the Mizuno Kinloch Off-Road Half Marathon on 7
September. Then, 4 days after that I’m taking a break and it’s off to Italy for
a month for the UCI Road World Championships and the race of the falling leaves
– the Tour of Lombardy.
Meanwhile on another much better day...
I’m liking my new philosophy of enjoying my
time on the bike, rather than slogging out mile after mile and the associated
suffering that goes with it. One
recent ride in particular reflected this enjoyment.
I had been a bit perturbed since signing up
for Strava back in March that my longest ride was only 38 kilometres… or in
cycling terms, not much more than a jaunt to the shops and back. I felt I
needed to do something about this. So one Saturday, with rain just starting to
fall at home I decided to throw the bike in the car and go see what the weather
was like over in the Wairarapa.
The first challenge I had to overcome was
the till then unanswered question of whether a road bike will fit in the back
of a MINI Cooper S. Thankfully the
answer is yes. With both wheels off, there’s no problem at all taking a one
person cycling road trip!
Martinborough, in its usual fashion,
offered up weather that was considerably nicer than Wellington. Whilst it had
obviously been raining lightly that morning, by the time I parked up at the
Square, the cloud was beginning to lift and there was not even a sniff of a
breeze. I had a course in mind
that, according to Garmin Connect, would offer up a nice loop to Gladstone and
back of around 65km. Rolling out of town, past the golf course and vineyards,
it was good to be underway on a ride that I’d been planning in my mind for a
very long time.
I pulled out the iPhone pretty early on and
started snapping off photos as I rode along. In the 5 years that I’ve had my
Specialized Tarmac, I’ve never been particularly confident about riding no
handed on it, whereas on my previous Avanti I felt I could pretty much cruise
along indefinitely without having to touch the handlebars. I don’t know what’s
changed… maybe the nearly three years of essentially no riding, but today I
finally think I’ve mastered the no-hands riding on the Specialized. Which is great, as it means
significantly less slowing down is required to remove and stash gloves, get
iPhone out of pocket and then snap off a few photos. Trouble is now that I’ve
got the cycling bug again, I’ve already started eyeing up new bikes, which will
undoubtedly mean a subtle change in geometry and balance and a whole no-handed
learning curve all over again!!
The only drama of the ride was a complete
rookie error on my own part. As I had been intending originally to just ride
from home but then changed my mind fairly quickly as the rain arrived, I just
threw my bike into the car without first removing the two full bidons of water
that were intended to keep me hydrated. Of course they leaked on the drive to
Martinborough, which I discovered about half an hour into the ride as I went to
take a drink and found that my first bidon contained only about three mouthfuls
of water. Ok, not a big problem I thought. The nozzle was open and it leaked,
so what… the second one looks closed. I should be sweet. But no… it was in fact
completely empty, which I discovered just past the halfway mark.
If this ride had been a serious hammer
fest, or it had been a hot day this would have been a more serious problem. I
did think about turning around at that point and heading back to the Gladstone
Pub which I’d passed a kilometre or two before, to see if they’d be gracious
and allow a refill. But I was feeling pretty comfortable in cruise mode anyways
and it was less of a problem than a “fuck you’re an idiot” moment, so I just
sucked back an energy gel and carried on regardless. The bottle of water in my
car I’d packed for the drive home tasted pretty damn good and didn’t last long
though!!
The back roads of the Wairarapa are cycling
nirvana. Quiet, generally in good condition and with a variety of terrain to
choose from. This particular ride was in general pretty flat – out along
Hinakura and then the Masterton-Martinborough Roads as far as Gladstone, and
then back via the slightly busier Ponatahi Road. When I rolled back up to my
car which was parked at the Square in Martinborough, my Garmin Edge 500
computer had just ticked over 66km with a total elevation gain of just 277m.
I’ve plotted out a couple of other courses
out this way and I hope to make more regular trips over the Rimutaka Hill to
enjoy some more traffic free, scenic riding.
