Death warmed up

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 In hindsight I should have accepted the signs and withdrawn from the run with my dignity intact.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.