Brad Brown

10 April 2011, Ironman South Arica, Nelson Mandela Bay – That date, event and place will be etched into my memory for a long long time. It was just a swim, bike and run. But it has changed me forever.

Training wise I was probably slightly underdone on the bike and in the water but was confident that I had done enough running. In the 3 months preceding the event (1 January to 30 March) I had done 50km in the pool,  1600km on the bike and 600km running.

The few days leading up to the race were pretty nerve wracking. I arrived in Port Elizabeth on Thursday morning and headed straight to registration to get the formalities of the weekend out of the way. The rest of the day was spent relaxing around the hotel and an easy 6km run along the beach front late Thursday afternoon. Friday morning I decided to go for a swim on the course considering the last surf swim I did was in January at the 70.3 in East London. The wind was pumping and the sea was extremely rough. I swam out to the first buoy, spotted the next one for race day and headed back to shore. I think I must’ve drank about a litre of water in that little 500m swim! It made me really nervous to think that if the conditions were like this on Sunday we were going to be in for a very long day. The rest of Friday dragged and the nerves were really starting to get the better of me.

Saturday was all business with the race briefing and bike check just reinforcing that I was in for a serious day out on Sunday. The weather had improved and I think every athlete was hoping it would stay that way for Sunday. Even though I was in bed early I didn’t have the best of nights. I tossed and turned all night and in the end probably only got about 5 hours of sleep.

The Sun Rises Over Nelson Mandela Bay

I was up at about 4am on race morning, which was not a good thing considering we were in a hotel across the road from the start finish area and the race only started at 7am. I got my bottles ready and packed my special needs bag and then headed down to transition to make sure everything was ok with my bike. I headed back to the hotel to get my wetsuit on and before I knew it was standing on the beach and was set to go. The tribal drums beating increased the tension as the minutes were counted down.  The national anthem played and then the countdown to the cannon. 7am and we were off.

Ironman 2011 underway

Swimming Under The Rising Sun

I had chatted to a few people in the build up regarding the swim and the strategy I decided to employ was to stay out of trouble as much as possible. I headed out right as soon as we started and took a really wide berth around the first buoy to avoid the masses. I probably swan an extra 50 or 100 meters but didn’t get caught up in any punch ups which is a good thing! The sea was pretty flat and I don’t think we could’ve ordered better conditions for the swim. I got out of the water in 1:21:40 which was slightly slower than I was hoping for (was aiming at a sub 1:20) but felt pretty good when I got out of the water.

Out of the water & looking pretty knackered!

I took my time in transition to make sure I had everything I needed nutrition wise. I also took some time with the volunteers and got properly sun screened (which  I am so glad I did as there were some toasted bodies on the road later in the day).  I took the bike as easy as I could but I had one of those days where I just couldn’t get comfy on the bike. From early on everything hurt. My back, neck & shoulders all took a beating. Funnily enough my butt was the least of my worries. About halfway through the second 60km lap my feet started hurting really badly. It was very strange as it had never happened before so I’m not quite sure what caused it but by the end of the cycle they were really sore. I got off the bike in 6:34:12 which was a spot on to what I was hoping to do. I had planned on doing  between 6:30 and 7 hours.

Hammering the bike

Cornering on the KTM Strada 3000

In the bars

Coming into transition on the bike

I started the run pretty well, although my feet were sore my legs legs felt good and I was feeling pretty confident that I had this one in the bag. It was just a matter of making sure that I kept going forward. I did my first 10kms in about 65 minutes which I was happy with but that is where things started to get tough.  I mentioned in a previous post about what happened to me on the run (and you can read all the details here) but it was that little moment that really reinforced why I was doing it and kept me going for the rest of the run. The funny thing is I have subsequently found out who it was out there. Thanks @RobsGoalRunner for your unbelievable encouragement. As tough as the run was I learnt some awesome lessons out there and it was a great confidence builder for Comrades. I learnt that nutrition is vitally important and if you can you have to eat. It is a long day out there and ensuring that you put enough in the tank is vital. I stopped being able to take in any gels or bars about 5kms into the run because they were too sweet. I made sure that I ate as many sandwiches, potatoes and bananas along the way as I could and that made the world of difference. The funny thing is I cannot stand the taste of marmite but let me tell you the best thing I ate on Sunday were the marmite sandwiches they had at the aid stations!

Feeling the heat

Going down Marine Drive

First lap of the run

The sun setting on the run

I had been asked what time I wanted to do in the build up and I kept telling people I would be chuffed with a finish but if I dipped under 14 hours I would be over the moon. I did the marathon in 5:43.38 for a total finish time of 13:53:38.

I had been visualising that run down the red carpet for months. What a surreal experience when I turned the final corner and looked down the final finishing straight. The red carpet rolled out in front of me.  It was exactly as I imagined it would be. The pain in my body disappeared. I felt as fresh as a daisy.  As I got onto the red carpet the spectators in the stands were shouting and clapping. Paul Kaye was there, as I knew he would be. As I ran past him he high fived me and then ran next to me for a few metres, then stopped me, looked me in the eye and said the words I had heard over and over and over in my head. When I was hurting in training sessions I thought about them. When I wanted to give up I thought about them. When I would wake up in the middle of the night I thought about them. “Big Brad Brown, you are an IRONMAN!!!!” I clenched my fists and held my hands up as high as I could. It was like I had won the race.

Onto the red carpet with Paul Kaye about to high five me

The pain is gone!

The Ironman South Africa Finishers Medal

I need to say thank you to a few people for making this journey possible. Thank you to KTM South Africa and Cycle Lab for the use of the KTM Strada 3000. Nike for the shoes and gear.  Garmin for the Forerunner 310XT and all the support along the way. The folks at USN for the supplements and nutrition. Oakley, Second Skins and Zoggs. The ladies at the PinkDrive for all their support and encouragement and then last and definitely not least you.  Thank you for all the worlds of encouragement and support along the way. For opening your hearts and wallets for a cause that is so close to my heart. Thank you.

Below is the data collected on my Garmin 310XT on the day:

The Ironman run route in Port Elizabeth is a three lapper and there are parts of the 14km lap that are lined with hundreds of screaming spectators but there is one stretch of the route that is really quiet and lonely. The route takes you out through the university’s campus and then onto the stretch of road that heads back to where all the action is. I read something in the build up about that stretch that said if you’re not 100% sure of why you were putting yourself through this before you started that part of the course for the second time you were in for a long evening.

I started my run pretty well but by the time I hit the campus first time round I was feeling really flat. I walked a large part of that stretch and my mind was racing. All sorts of things were going through my head. Most of which I can’t repeat but what concerned me most was that I was feeling that way already and I was only on my first lap. With 32km’s of the run to go it was not a great place to be.

There is absolutely no one on that stretch of road. I walked most of that stretch first time round. In the distance I could see a lone spectator. As I got closer I noticed she was clapping for each runner as they passed. It took a while for me to get to her as I was walking pretty slowly but as I reached her she looked at me, clapped and said “Well done Brad. Keep going. Your mom is really proud of you”. I don’t know who she was or where she came from and I never saw her again on the day but at that point that was all I needed to hear. It was those 12 words that got me going again and to the finish. Whoever you were, thank you.

Mohammed Ali once said “The fight is won or lost far away from witnesses, in the gym and out on the road long before I dance under those lights.” and I’m starting to learn the same is true for Ironman. I’m learning triathlons, and especially the longer ones, take a ton of preparation away from “those lights”. I’m really battling at the moment with the solitude of it all. The long swims. The long rides. The long runs. Especially at this time of the year when everyone is talking about winding down and getting away and I’m looking to ramp things up and focus more. I actually just looked at a calender and it is only 16 weeks until Ironman South Africa. 16 weeks until I dance under those lights.

I have been visualising the red carpet and in particular the feeling of heading down that stretch of beach front in Port Elizabeth. The crowd cheering and going wild. Running towards the finish line you realise what you have achieved on that day. More than the 3.8km swim. More than the 180km cycle. More than the 42.2km run. Its the culmination of months and months of commitment and sacrifice. Doing more and going further than you thought possible. Everyone craves glory but few are prepared to put in the hard yards. Few are prepared to make sure the fight is won in the gym and out on the long road.

As you get closer and closer to the line the pain dissipates. The pain of the thousands of kilometres you put in away from the witnesses. When there was no one around to share a sunrise. Or a sunset. A rainstorm. Sunburn.

The first steps have gone unnoticed. The final steps to the summit will not. I haven’t been there yet but I have let myself feel what it feels like to cross that finish line. To the end of the red carpet. Arms raised. Skin crawling with goose bumps. You are an Ironman. Over and over and over again. 16 weeks until I live my visualisation. 16 weeks until I dance under those lights.

My training for the 2011 Ironman 70.3 in East London and the full Ironman in Port Elizabeth is going pretty well. I’m sure the time is going to come when I am going to need some serious motivation to get out onto the road or into the pool. I’ve always been a sucker for motivational videos. I found these two that absolutely fired me up. I thought I’d share them with you.

Read more…

My entry for the Ironman 70.3 on 23 January 2011 has been submitted and accepted so there is no turning back now. The training has been going well and I am loving the process and cant wait to do my first triathlon. I know I must be a bit touched never to have done a triathlon in my life and to go and enter the Half Ironman but the training bug has bitten and you need to set a goal otherwise nothing will ever happen and you wont achieve anything. I’ve actually also comitted to doing the full Ironman in April (although my entry isnt in yet it will be soon). Below is an awesome video of the Ironman South Africa in Port Elizabeth in 2009. If this is what is in store for me, I can’t wait.