The race got off to a good start. A bit pressed for space amongst the team hackers and a little slower than I would have liked on the ski, I pulled out a great swim to take me up to 3rd individual out on the bike. I was feeling fresh and still blazing. This is what I remember racing to be like… My strategy was “go for as hard as you can, for as long as you can”. Not everybody’s cup of tea, and probably not what you “should” do, but I like to fail fast. I’m not scared of failure- it’s the shortest route to improvement

Nonetheless, I was probably a little too quick out on the bike because it was a long lonely ride leaving a good 10 minutes before the start of the Terra Firma. The leading Terra Firma charge spearheaded by Conrad Stoltz only came flying by at the bottom of Rooi Els. And to think I could have jumped onto the back of that pack…? Pack #2 at the top of Rooi Else came by, which I managed to hang on for a while… and then finally Pack #3 in Betty’s Bay, which I dropped off just before heading into Kleinmond.

I simply must mention the schools of dolphins who swam with us on the ski, the spectacularly awesome sunrise, the majestic views from the bike along the coast road, the dramatic scenery along the start of the run… all of it did not go unnoticed.

And the run felt great- for about 500m, before getting hard. I had surpassed my 3 hour conditioning mark and the cramps started back-chatting. **My training sessions usually last 90 minutes, maybe 120 minutes on a long day, and I only get handful of them during the week. My longest race in the last year was 3 hours (Slanghoek) so I knew I had limits- I was just not too sure where they were- or what they would look like.**

The 13km run was pure “vasbyt” until my legs literally seized 1km from the end. I did not move. I was trying to find a stretch resembling a yoga pose while massaging my thumbs deep into the muscles, desperately trying to get them to relax. By the way, this works well and so between that, @Simon_Shield and @BrentOne, who were keeping me hydrated and feeding me cramp busters like candy, I made it through to the K1, happy to get off my feet for a while. “Jumping” into the paddle, I felt relieved and started making great progress once again, happy to use my arms for a change. And then disaster…

7km into the paddle and my body started protesting. Loudly. Waves of nausea and lethargy put my arms at an absolute standstill. Any movement and it felt like I would blow- literally. The 3 hour mark was my first limit, 5 hours was my next threshold. Happy to make the turn and just try drift back into port with the wind, I sat motionless, unable to move. Finally, after the nausea got the better of me, I blew a gasket and succumbed to the cool waters of the vlei for a swim. **I was impressed by the rescue boat who speedily popped by to offer me a lift back- and a ticket out.** But no. I was not done- not totally. Somewhere down, deep inside, there was more. I had to believe there was. After a quiet moment of reflection and feeling purged, I drifted into harbour.

Again, the magic of being out there in the middle of the estuary, with time to take in the splendour of all that was surrounding me, was spiritual…

Washing up on shore, I must have looked quite bad because I was greeted by a number of shocked faces. I ignored the panic in their eyes and focused on looking for a comfortable hard patch of dirt and stones. This was going to be an easy transition. Under the shade of the trees, I scoffed down a half dozen baby potatoes, some more juice- a lot more Rehidrat and regained my sense of humour. As long as I had that, I would be ok. A decent 20/30 minutes of shooting the breeze and I was ready to go- relatively speaking.

It was hot out there- but that was nothing compared to the pain I was in. This was a new level of brutal. Out onto the hills and into the Koggelberg mountains. I always revel in these mountains and the absolute beauty. It’s hard to describe. The rawness of those fire-cleansed landscapes and the glimpses of coastline from on top of the world… This was truly metaphorical.

17kms into the ride and again, my legs refused to move. This was now becoming a familiar routine, but walking it off helps. “Just keep moving… You are not done”

Finishing the bike ride, feeling the cooler breeze of the shoreline, seeing my family gathered at the last transition point, a little worried but smiling, all of it lifted my spirits and renewed my sense of determination. Only 9km to go. This was going to be easy compared to the last 7/8 hours. Bottle in hand, some encouraging cheers, a good luck kiss and I was set to go.

Those 9kms drifted past with little pain. The legs knew what had to be done- it was buckle down and work. Again, my seconds joined me on the last stretch, keeping my sense of humour in check and helping me cross that hot, hot, hot sand. Crossing the bridge and rounding the corner into the home stretch was bliss. Seeing my wife and kids ready to cheer me home was indescribable. My little boy, only too happy to see me and missing me like crazy, lifted me home the last 200m stretch, hand-in-hand. I will never get tired of that.

And just like that it was done- and all memories of the hurt box faded… But before they fade, a note to self…

Sports Specific Training
Nothing beats actually riding a bike, running on the beach, on the road, mountain biking, paddling. A spinning class, a treadmill, an ergo machine… all of it- pale and second-class citizens by comparison. Get out there and do it!

Conditioning
35km of official road bike training mileage in one year (yes, if you reading still, you read that correctly: 35km) is not enough. Hahaha. Mountain biking fitness does not cross-over into time-trialing 50km on a road bike. Probably the one thing I will change. Of course, this also depends on your history and what you’re used to and how long you’ve been in/active.

Advice
Get a lot of it- don’t think you have all the answers- be open to suggestions. I read and took advice from a lot of people and blogs, particularly Dan’s. Baby potatoes rock! I could have taken more advice, but this is a learning curve, an iteration, a step forward. All in good time…

Perfect Practice
Don’t try out anything new on race day- especially on a race like this. Practice/train with your racing kit/nutrition/equipment and race with what you’re comfortable with.

Keep It Simple
Seriously. There’s so much going on, the simpler the better. Boat, paddle and a PFd. Wetsuit, goggles. Bike, helmet, shoes, juice. “Takkies”, hat. Food. Suncream.

Control What You Can
From the Mockes, I’ve read and heard this time and again. Control only the stuff you can control. If a random boat is going to destroy your ski’s rudder- then so be it. If your bike derailleur is going to snap *on that day* then c’est la vie. Yes, it will suck, but you cannot control everything.

Balance
I have a wonderful wife, a family with energetic kids and I freelance. I have other commitments and need to find a balance- somewhere. Sure, if I could train +4 hours a day, I would probably happily do so- but what I have is **perfect**. Don’t lose sight of the really important things. As a result, your achievements are always in context of what you have- the nett result, not just the line item result. Celebrate small victories, enjoy the ride and push yourself beyond where you can go, but take it easy on yourself too

No Regrets
I gave the race everything I had and I would highly recommend that strategy. If I had to race all over again- I would do it pretty much the same. One or two tweaks maybe, but overall, the same. Life is for living- and living to the full. Do the bestest you can do with what you have- and give it your all, nothing less.

Seconds
This cannot be overstated in a race like this. Good seconds who you can just trust to do what they need to do so you can just get on doing with that you need to do is paramount. On race day, you don’t want to worry about anything. Just get up and race. Having a seconding team like that makes all the difference in the world. And by the way, seconding starts long before race day…

Have fun
If you can’t look back on a race and smile, you might need to look at it all again, a little harder, from a different perspective maybe. There’s always the reason you signed up in the beginning, find it. Enjoy it. And see you on the start line next year (and hopefully, a couple more start lines inbetween too)!

Part of the goal with reflection is to put planning for the future into perspective- in addition to just soaking up the glow of memories. So, what next? To be sure, +35 races certainly wasn’t a goal of any sort. It just happened, spontaneously. I signed up for one race, and before I knew it, there was another one. Then another, and then another. Pretty soon, we were sporting around the country (world!) enjoying the time away as a family- with a bit of racing inbetween. The details are fuzzy, the memories spectacular. And as we set off on 2012, the race count ticks away. 2 weekends down, 2 races in the barn. But what’s that all about….?

Training, racing and getting out there is just a way of being. There’s no real point to prove. Big-talking is comic relief through irony. And I can big-talk with the best. Sure, when you race, you race. There is no second place. Victory. But for a lot of us, Victory is just getting to the finish line, sometimes even just the start line.

Life could have been very different for me. In parallel universes, I:
* ended up face down in a driveway with either .38 or .45
* was buried after a short life and battle with malaria/meningitis
* audited accounting records for a corporate ++just kidding
* was sentenced to years in jail in either Ecuador, Colombia or Argentina
* raced as a professional triathlete
* trained under the watchful eye of Sifu Zhong of the Northern Shaolin Masters in Siberia
* retreated to Nepal to take up the battle for the Tibetan people and encountering Enlightenment
* was jailed (or worse) in the middle east for preaching The Word

Bah! Parallel universes. What’s done is done and dusted. Instead, I got something way more awesome than any of the above combined, multiplied and raised to a significant prime number happening right now. Well, the good parts at any rate. And that’s why I race. Victory. For the family unit. For being a husband and a dad. For taking on life, even charging life and coming out victorious.

And the race is not mine alone mind you. I share it with my my wife, my kids, my family, my friends, my training partners, my racing snakes; even that random citizen commuting on his bike back home (I’m going to catch you!). Every race is for all of you, all of us. A celebration of the life we have, the life we live. Not everyone has the right/privilege/opportunity/ability/resources. So if you do, make the most of it- don’t squander it.

And then one step beyond that: to all dads and husbands out there leading a family… step out into the world, pursue a vigorous and active life; with your wife, with your kids; together. There’s a dimension of living beyond the TV set, the Playstation, the shopping mall that will bond and grow your family in ways unimagined.

So rest assured, when I line up at the start, I’m gunning for #1. Victory. Regardless. I expect you to do the same. Regardless. Who will win? Time will tell, but I’m ready; iTrainedToday. Did you?

Open water swimming is special. There’s something quite primitive about it- much like trail running I guess. It’s just you (mostly) and the environment. Of course, being surrounded by the cold waters of the Atlantic, a wetsuit is necessary, for me at least. And over time, I have collected and abused an array of wetsuits for swimming and surfing, including bodysurfing. My latest arrow is the XTERRA Vendetta.

Now, you can read all the specs and product brochures online. You can listen to all the sales pitches and go through a comparative checklist with other suits. But nothing beats how the suit actually makes you feel in the water. And this suit makes me feel like a fish.

First off, it doesn’t feel like you’re actually wearing a suit in the way that there are no restrictions. Even with a full arm, the batman panels makes you feel like you just have extra skin. The forearms are super thin and light so you can still feel the water right through the pull phase of the stroke. In a lot of ways, it’s like running in a minimalist shoe which allows you to feel the ground.

Next, the buoyancy is incredible. Wearing this suit reminded me of floating in the Dead Sea. There was literally zero effort keeping afloat. Now most wetsuits do float you, but when it doesn’t feel like you have a suit on AND you’re still floating in different poses, you can fool yourself into thinking you’ve just defied the laws of physics! Maybe that’s what the “X-Air Buoyancy Cells” are all about?

Of course, the look is important too. Clean lines, smooth panels, succinct markings, simple and effective colors- all these go a long way to making you look good which, in turn, makes you feel good. You’d be surprised just how much more confident you are with a simple motivational boost

And if you in the market for a new suit or want to look through the options, do yourself a favour and get of hold Terry in Cape Town.

See you in the water!

The focus of the foundation session was an introduction into some of the required skills specific to OWS, all followed with a short practical implementation. First, we looked at the concept of drafting and swam in and out of drafts, feeling the difference and experiencing the pull. Being able to draft during the swim, particularly in triathlons (not in official OWS races), can save you a lot of energy. Of course, you have to weigh up swimming inside a draft, and potentially in the middle of a pack, versus swimming relatively peacefully, albeit harder, on the edges of that same pack.

Next, we looked at turning buoys, a skill not often practised at all. Indeed, it’s quite difficult to do try out in a pool. Of all the skills, this one is particularly important for less experienced swimmers since getting comfortable in a bunch, on a turn, with all the punches, splashes and kicks around you is paramount to surviving the swim. I have seen a number of athletes train half a year (or more) for a race, only to quit at the first buoy because it was “too hectic”.

Of course, finding the buoy to begin with is pretty useful, so we went through a couple of drills in sighting. Sighting off landmarks, other swimmers and buoys is one thing, but none of that helps if you cannot swim in a relatively straight line without a blackline on the bottom to guide you. Of all drills, swimming with closed eyes is definitely one of my favourite, read challenging. It can be quite disorientating but it certainly forces a focus on awareness once you’re over the initial panic. And OWS demands a lot of awareness on the environment around you, all the while trying to focus on what your body is doing with each stroke.

To wrap it up, we put it all together with a free-for-all bunch swim. This simulates an OWS race or triathlon start which is truly a form of chaos. Being comfortable inside the chaos takes practice and being comfortable with a mouthful of water, when what you really needed was air, or an eyeful of fist, when what you really wanted was to see, is part and parcel of accepting and managing your risk during the swim.

This basic foundation of skills, repeated in practice at every opportunity will help build confidence and ability in the water, turning a survival swim into a strong swim. Of course, skills alone won’t finish the race- you still need the hard yards! Happy swimming.

I did assume though that there was going to be at least one tough climb near the beginning. I didn’t quite imagine what unfolded next.

10 groups of 20 runners leave the start area and head up along one of the Silvermine tracks. This one went straight up. I was in group #9 so I had some time to watch the forerunners. Within 90 seconds of starting, the front guys had already started walking. Uh-oh.

Group after group burst up the rocky single track only to start crawling just as quickly. The more intimidated started walking from the get-go. After all, there’s 12km to go and if you went through the route map you would know, there’s 2 climbs just like this one. I didn’t, so my strategy was simple: go as hard as you can for as long as you can and then hang on.

Go! And boom!! out the gates I went, scrambling up the track, determined not to walk. I pushed that first 1km so hard my quads were aching, my lower back cursing and my lungs burning. 500m up over 1km is a pretty gnarly ratio. I also realised we were scheduled to come down this very same path- a thought I suspended during the 18 minutes it took me to scramble up.

But I also realised that as soon as you’re up on the top, no matter how hard the climb was, you can recover while running so no point resting while you work. And thankfully the end did come. Running along the top of the Silvermine was amazing. Of the 12km trail run, I reckon about 11km was single track? There was one section with jeep track (and a small section with no track) and the rest was all typical softsand amidst jagged rock on the mountain amongst the Western Cape fynbos.

The drop into Kalk Bay was hectic. Steep and rocky and I had more than one vision of me tumbling head over hills as I raced down catching the odd branch and rock with my feet. At the bottom and turning back towards Cape Town, I thought “Yay! mostly flat all the way home now…”. The second little climb, which I expected to last only 2 or 3 minutes went on for almost as long as the first.

It was equally steep, just the legs weren’t as equally capable. But, we were here to race and so race we did. 13 minutes and 1km later, I was on top of the world- again. I managed to lose the trail a little and almost went over the edge of a rather fascinating drop onto the jagged rocky beds below but thankfully, the cautious descender that I am made me look before I jumped.

The last 1.5km going downhill was pure havoc. I don’t think my quads have taken a beating like that in a long while. While I sit here typing out this reflection, I am reminded with every gentle movement of my legs. And when I get up in a little bit and descend the steps to my room, I will be even more vividly reminded why trail running is so much more than “just running in the forest”.

Rumour also has it that some in-form mountain goats have broken the records for this run, but we’ll wait to see the final results and race round-up from the Quantum Adventures team.

TRAIL RUNNING TIP: I learned this one from mountain biking. On a bike, every time you get out the saddle to tackle a climb, your hear rate will skyrocket. Check it out for yourself. You can research the physiology behind this for yourself, but one of the reasons this happens is because of the sudden change in relative altitude of your heart in relation to the legs doing the work. Your heart needs to sustain the same blood flow against a change in gravity, essentially.

Now think about this going uphill on a trail run. Your move your upper body up and down with each steeper section as you bend over, then stand up, repeat. In short, you’re stressing your physiology unnecessarily. So how do you not do that? Easy; get your hands dirty. Scramble up the steep sections (on all fours if you have to) and stay low for as long as you can.

Yes, you will need stronger shoulders- not your typical runner’s upper body shoulder strength. Yes, your core and lower back will work harder. Yes, your hands will feel it. Yes, you might inhale some dust. But this is trail running- get down with it

The 2011 event saw the first relatively windless day (after days of galeforce SE) and temperatures climbing into the 30s by early morning. Needless to say, it was both runners and paddlers battling it out across the course with the paddlers making it home first this year.

You can get the full results of the ski paddling event on SurfSki.co.za which also formed part of the Discovery sunglass hut surfski series.

From a paddler’s perspective, the first part of the paddle took us towards the famous big-wave reef, Sunset. The swell wasn’t pushing on the day which made for a safe passage across the reefs before turning towards the beach and making a turn near the surf towards Noordhoek. The paddle had mostly been into the wind and was hard going, but relatively cool. However, with the turn, and all the way back to the finish, there was very little wind to either help the runs or keep the paddlers cool. Turning in the corner at Noordhoek was a welcome, short-lived relief though as we slowed down a little and paused to look at the crystal torquoise waters with perfect visibility. Typically though, the ocean was ice cold after a week of galeforce winds. Any temptations to take a dip were sorely tested at first touch

The quick dip at the end though provided by a tricky outside set crashing on the Long Beach shorebreak came with it’s mixed blessing for some- but all in all, the event itself a great one to put yourself to the test in.

Personally, I’m hoping for a multisport option next year. This event is so great, I would want to do it twice. First paddle and then run

More photos available here

You may have heard the quip “train like you race” or even the corollary “race like you train”. Either way, they are both true really. How you train, is how you’re going to race. I mean, you can’t train 6min/km and then decide to run 4min/km on race day. And how you race, reflects on how you trained, relatively speaking. And by that I mean, it’s a personal reflection of your training given the resources, skills and athleticism that you have. You know within yourself if you sucked or gave it your all.

So how does your attitude fit into training?

Well, let’s say you’re scheduled for a bike ride or paddle early in the morning but wake up to find it’s raining and miserable outside. The decision you make in that moment will determine your next race result. Do you curl over and go back to sleep or do you make an effort to get out there and stick to the plan? Yip, you’re probably going to hate yourself for it if you have a conscience. On the other hand, if you’re living a slightly delusional fantasy, you’re probably quite good at coming up with really solid convincing arguments. Hint: you’re only bluffing yourself.

You’re at the end of a hard interval, a speed workout, a gym set- whichever- and your coach/training partner/program calls for “ONE MORE”. What do you do? Give it a pathetic attempt, skip it altogether or dig deep and find that something special to give it your all?

How you respond to that is how you will respond in your next race.

Now as both an athlete and a coach, I’ve seen enough to gauge just how athletes (and myself) respond under pressure- how we respond in a race- and how we handle what life throws at us. And I can tell you one thing for sure- it’s the same attitude coming through time and time again. There is no hiding it. Good news is though (good news that is, if you know you have a bad attitude), that as with most results in sport, you can train your attitude as much as you can train your legs to run a sub 4min/km.

In the beginning, you might need to setup particular training sets when you don’t need to focus on the result at all, just the attitude. So pick a day of the week when you know the wind is going to blast, the water is going to be cold, the time is going to inconvenient- and go! Put your head down and ride, run, swim, paddle or lift. Curse loudly in the wind if you have to. Scream. Let it all out. Fight your weakness. No one can hear you (hopefully). And there’s something cathartic about releasing the inner rage. Remember, come race day, the weather could be just as super bad. And the ones who cry victory on such a day are the ones who look past the weather and focus on the finish line. After all, bad weather is not personal- despite what your head is telling you- it’s happening to *everyone* out there on the course. You have a choice to whine about the headwind for a 2 solid hours- or just get on with the job. Much like life really. You can moan all you like about the hand you got dealt, or just get on with making the best of what you got.

So if you know you have a bad attitude, you can work on that very specifically. Hopefully with time though, you’ll start incorporating that get-go attitude into EVERY training set you do. If your trainer says 20, don’t do 19 or 17. Who you kidding? Do 20. Flip- go 21. If the wind is blowing and you got 4minute headwind repeats- do 4minute headwind repeats. Not 3m57sec. Heck, go 4min05sec. If you find yourself looking for glass to ride over *just so you can puncture and have a legit excuse to end the pain* readjust your attitude.

Get off the bike because you’re wasting your time and give yourself a healthy KITA. Or a HTFU klap*. That “arghh, this is so hard” face doesn’t win you any races. And by winning, I don’t necessarily mean 1st on the podium. I mean 1st in your own world- heart, body, mind and soul. What? You’re putting in all this time, energy, effort, money, sacrifice for training for second place? Really?

So train your attitude. And if you’re in a training group, avoid the athletes who pitch up with a “neh, let’s go easy today”. They’ll suck you in like gravity and destroy your dreams. If you don’t stick to the job of doing what you came down to do- you’ve wasted that moment, that opportunity to one up yourself.

Of course, there are times when the plan is “take it easy”. Cool- then take it easy, enjoy the journey. Have fun and celebrate your health and the privilege, even luxury, of being able to immerse yourself in a world very few have access to. I’m not talking about those sessions…

And remember that on race day: not everything goes to plan. Puncture out the transition. Zip stuck on the wetsuit. Shoelaces jam. Water bottles get lost. You crash. You take a wrong turn. Paddle blade chips. Someone swam into you. Your goggles leak. All of that is what is beautiful about race day- it’s just like real life. Anything can happen. But anything can happen to anyone at any time. You never give up. The finish line is calling you. Go get it!

* a “HTFU klap” is a special reminder to yourself to buck up and get on with your duty. It means you don’t whinge, whine or tarry about like a prancy nancy fancy and draw attention to the cruel fate you’ve been dealt. Oh, woe is me! HTFU. Literally, smack yourself hard in the face if nothing works. A surprise left hook if you must. And if you can’t execute that properly, train someone else to deliver the hurt.

The aim is to keep the swim steady with a slightly harder push towards the last third of the swim (i.e. negative split). Swim at your desired 1500m race pace and focus on “how” you’re swimming.

The warm up: aim for between 400m to 800m of drills but to be sure to include more kicking. Oh, and if you’re not regularly doing kicking drills- change that today. Once you’re warmed up, you’re ready to go. The main set is 30x50m on 60″. You can start dropping the interval to 55″ and 50″ if you feeling up to it- or if you’re coming in on sub 35″. If you’re only coming in on 50″ though, leave every 70″.

Remember, keep it evenly paced. Your last 50m should be as fast (or even slightly faster) than your first 50m. If you find yourself swimming drastically different times, don’t worry, you just need to develop a sense of pace and rhythm. It’ll come to you.

You can also tailor this set for a sprint triathlon and aim for 20x50m. Whatever distance you choose, keep the intervals at 50m and keep the pace the same. Don’t stop to talk in between repeats or to drink water. Wait till you done. And because you’re only swimming 50m at a time, you can really focus on your stroke and put in a decent flutter kick, even if you don’t race with one.

Have fun and injoy the set!

Now, we paddle this route often. On a calm day, on a North Wester and in a South Easter. The view is always fascinating since you have this wreck on the beachfront, the hustle of Tableview on the one side, Robben Island in the distance on the other and then a Table Mountain in all it’s wonder across the way. It’s an odd clash of worlds.

And the Seli 1 has not been without controversy but clearly not going anywhere. So when life throws you a lemon… ? The concept is awesome.

Now the route can be quite tricky since in a big SE wind, the wind chop gets gnarly past the wreck. If there’s a big SW swell on the day, you get a lot of interference bouncing off the wreck- and then again, more interference off the rocks close to halfway. Now, on a ski, it’s easy to take a slightly longer line and drive your approach into the bay with the swell and wind, but on a swim, an extra 200m to the left is a loong way.

All in all, the approach lines will be interesting and my money is on the swimmer picking the best line on the day. Cut it too close to the rocks and you got hectic currents and interference which will have you swallowing in a lot of water. Too far out, and you’re swimming 5.5km (maybe more). And of course, you’re pretty far from land.

Being in November though, the weather is slightly unpredictable. On the day we could get just about *anything*. Time will tell, but for what it’s worth- this is one swim you want to put in your diary and be sure not to miss. It’s definitely going to be an adventure!

We’ve had one open water swim come and go already on a typically random four-seasons-in-one-spring-day already, and the next one is just around the corner.

Nitty gritty detail:
Saturday, 26th November 2011 Hosted by Western Province Aquatics
Sanctioned by Swimming South Africa ASHANTI DAM, PAARL

Entry fees : R100.00 for 10km, R90.00 for 5km, R80 for 3km. R70.00 for 1km. R30.00 for 400m

For more information, you can go to Western Province Aquatics or view the Open Water Challenge Two 2011-12.