Posted: May 28, 2005

Multisport: Triathlon Ireland Update

Upcoming Races

Saturday 28th May
Liam Ball Triathlon, Derry
1200m Swim, 32km Cycle, 8km Run
Contact: Jeff Ashe
jeff.ashe@derrycity.gov.uk
0044 28  71289200(w)

Weds. June 1st
Dublin Duathlon Series - Race 2 , Phoenix Park, Dublin
2mile run, 10mile cycle, 2mile run
Start 7.45pm
Entry EUR12 on the day ,Prize money EUR1800
 www.dublintri.com, email belpark@gmail.com or (086) 8647227

Sat. June 11th
Crooked Lake Triathlon, Camlough, Newry.
750m Swim, 20km Cycle, 5km Run
Start 2pm
Contact: Catherine Murphy 028 30837056
Entry Closed

Sat. June 11th
Fastnet Triathlon, Schull, Co. Cork.
400m Swim, 20km Cycle, 5km Run
Start 11am
Contact: Sarah McKnight 028 28022

Dublin City Triathlon - Entry Opens

Entries are now being accepted for the 2005 Dublin City Triathlon to be held on Sept. 3rd.
Like 2004 there will 2 races
Race 1: Try-a-Triathlon: 500m swim, 16km cycle, 3.3km run
Race 2: Premier League Tier 1 Olympic Distance: 1500m swim, 40km cycle, 10km run

Entry is EUR45 Indiv, EUR75 Relay if entered before July 1st, EUR50/EUR80 thereafter for either race.

You can enter by post using the Entry Forms or online on the updated race website Enquires to dublincitytriathlon@hotmail.com

The organisers of this the biggest triathlon in Ireland in 2005 are currently looking for a sponsor, The XXXX Dublin City Triathlon, if XXXX is out there, please contact them.

Kinsale Triathlon fills up in record time

The King of the Hill Sprint Triathlon to be held in Kinsale on July23rd, a Premier League Race, has filled up in record time. Entries only opened 2 weeks ago and publicity was very low key yet demand is so high this year the 220 places were snapped up. Entry is usually open for a few months but has had to close early in all races so far this year. Triathlon is one of the fastest growing and popular sports at the moment, there is not enough supply of races out there to meet the huge demand even though there is usually 2 races a week during the summer, people want more.

Lanzarote Ironman Reports

2 very entertaining reports of the Lanzarote Ironman, 3800m Swim, 180km Cycle, 42.2k Run which they did on Sat 21st May

1. A Juhanson (EST) 08.55.37
2. S Liebetrau (GER) 08.57.09
3. G Schellens (BEL) 08.59.23
Other
200. Ciaran Cassidy (IRL) 12.12.33
209. Eamonn Horgan (IRL) 12.14.26
218. Donal McAlister (IRL) 12.17.33
230. James McLaughlin (IRL) 12.24.42
275. Billy Kennedy (IRL) 12.41.03
284. Brian Heffernan (IRL) 12.43.52
414. James Nesbitt (IRL) 13.38.51
493. Steve Cleary (IRL) 14.29.38
505. Colm Thomas O'Dubhghaill (IRL) 14.37.27 
538. Derek Fagan (IRL) 14.58.48 
John Gavin (IRL) DNF 

Eamonn Horgan, Limerick Tri Club

Ironman Lanzarote ...a 3.8km swim, a 180km bike and a mere 42km run of the Toughest Ironman Course There Is!

The stark, rugged, island of Lanzarote is about 60 miles off the northwest coast of Africa. It is, in many ways, similar to Hawaii's Big Island, although the lava fields in Lanzarote seem to be even more barren and desolate than those you see when riding down the Queen Kaahumanu Highway in Kona. There are 300 volcanic cones on the tiny island - the last time one erupted was in 1824, when the top literally blew off of one of the infamous "Fire Mountains."

It could be the heat, the mountains, or the sand-blasting winds ... or all of the above! This Ironman in the Canary Islands is known as one of the most difficult on the Ironman circuit. The motto says it all. "Normal limits do not apply." It's hard to say what makes the Ironman Lanzarote course so tough. There's heat, high winds, bad roads and a challenging bike course that winds its way up and down two mountains.

It is a course that has brought many of the world's greatest triathletes to their knees. Peter Reid, Thomas Hellreigel, and Paula Newby-Fraser have all raced, and won, here. All have been quick to point out that there is no tougher course on the planet than Lanzarote's. Now, after last Saturdays race, added to the list of finishers is Eamonn Horgan, the first ever Limerick Man to cross the Lanzarote finish line.

"I took up Triathlons just to learn how to swim, after a near drowning accident in the same Canary Islands some years back. So it was fitting that I returned to the Canaries two and a half years after I first started to learn to swim, to finally say goodbye to those haunting demons of those treacherous seas, now a swimmer, but not just yet an Ironman. But along the road to getting to Lanzarote, I went through a few more obstacles. After racing the Lost Sheep Half Ironman distance 2 years in a row and both years crossing the line after "bonking" (running out of energy, nutrition, fluids and all the essential ingredients the body needs to fuel itself) taking on twice that distance on the toughest course of them all, was to me a nerve wracking and daunting experience! Would I make it past half way, would I even make it out of the water? The only way to find out was to enter, pay the EUR300, and give it a go!

A short pre-visit to the Island in early 2005, gave me the chance to see what I had gotten myself into. Hideously strong winds battered me all over the road on the bike and the hills took every ounce on strength to get up......so leaving the island I was nervous but strangely comfortable with the challenge! 5 months later and many hours up and down UL pool, long hours in the saddle and pounding the footpaths of Limerick, it was touch-down on the Run-way, swim goggles, bike and runners in hand, ready to take on the beast that is,....... Lanzarote Ironman.

On the Tuesday before the race, I rode out into the severe lave fields to pay my respects to the Timan Faya (Fire Devil of the Island Folklore). Hopefully, he would let me pass easily over his terrible domain. A bizarre week of staying out of the sun to avoid heat exhaustion and sun-stroke and force feeding myself with protein and carbohydrates brought me to the night before the race. At 3pm that evening it was time to set up my bicycle in the transition area for the next morning. Going down into the transition area was the closest thing to an out of body experience I have ever felt. As I floated by all the professional athletes, veterans of pain and long distance, I felt out of my league. Looking at magnificent bike after bike, and then glancing back at my EUR600 second hand bargain, I fell further out of my league.......... but I was not deterred, if anything, more relaxed and more determined then ever before that I was going to finish! The next day, the day that I had trained so hard for, was to be the day that I would prove nothing to the world, but prove everything and more to myself!

Bed-time 8pm.............didn't fall asleep till well after 11pm...nerves. Woke again at 2am to pack even more carbohydrates into me, every spoon in my mouth felt like an Ironman in itself, but I kept on eating because I knew I'd be needing every ounce of food the next day. Back to sleep at 2.30 and woke again at 5am. I walked down to the transition area and placed all my food and water bottles on my bike. I gave it one last check and went down to the waters edge to pay my respects to the Sea. 6.40 am, I drank my last 500ml of sports drink, zipped up my wetsuits and crossed the first timing chip of the day............."this is it, no going back now" I thought to myself.

A swim is a swim, and the 2-loop 3.8km anti clockwise ocean swim is a great way to start the long day. I stayed well at the back to stay clear of the craziness, that is the start of an Ironman swim, 800 competitors all jostling for a position, kicking, thrashing, thumping, shoving, in and out of the water..........its no place for the faint hearted. I worked my way through the crowds never wanting to push myself harder at the risk of getting out of breath, raising my hearth rate too high at this stage could mean the end of my race. Completing the whole swim, with no major catastrophes, in 1 hour 17 minutes I was feeling confident. Then it was out of the swim and under the showers to wash off the salt water, that could do some terrible damage later, and on with the bike gear and lashings of sun cream to fight off the scorching sun.

The bike course is where things get really tough for the 800 or so competitors. So I decided on a game plan to take it steady all the way round. I took the first 20km nice and steady and felt good. I didn't experience any of the bloated stomach cramps that I got in the Kenmare races, so my confidence was high. 30 minutes into the bike I started taking in all the necessary 10,000 calories I would need to get me to the line! But all that food over the previous days had to have an effect somewhere and by 35km it started to hurt and slow me down. I kept my cool and tried to bike on and see if the pains would pass, but that was not to be......I thought to myself that this was it, this is as far I was to get...and I resigned to the fact that I had done all I could have done and that it was just not to be my day! But then I decided on one last ditch effort and decided to see if using the "lavatory" would be of any benefit. So, stopping my bike on the side of the road beside a blisteringly hot black volcanic lava field, I wandered in behind a jagged rock and assisted the natural fertilisation of an otherwise, harsh and lifeless landscape. To my amazement and relief, it worked, back on the bike, about 6 lbs lighter and I was flying uphill again, more comfortable than ever before.

This was just to be the start of the day and, stretched out past the next 25km of lava fields, was the climbing of more than 2,600 meters/9000 feet of steep sided volcano's. There are times when the athletes competing at Ironman Lanzarote probably wish the top would blow off a mountain while they're racing - it would be a very good reason to stop punishing themselves!

All the time on the bike I was concentrating on never going too fast, and making sure I took enough fluids and calories in. I chipped away at the arduous bike ride........km after km, battling into the wind and riding the rough road, trying to avoid punctures and crashes. All day I passed people on the side of the road, some had punctured, some had crashed, others had just given up...............The Timan Faya was wreaking havoc on the competitors, with his nasty heat, energy sapping wind and difficult terrain. By the end of the day he would bring almost 25% of the 803 starters to their knees and subsequent failure...... The wind did some more damage to my energy levels around 145km mark but the thoughts of getting to the finish line kept me going! 180km completed and it was back into transition............two out of three aint' bad...............nearly finished.........well not quite! Lest we forget, there is still the 26.2 mile marathon, but Iron men never call it a marathon but prefer to call it a "run". To an Ironman, the marathon is no longer a test of endurance but just a stage in a whole day of endurance. The out-and-back run course is relatively flat in Lanzarote. What makes it so tough are the winds, and the heat ... and the fact that it's a marathon. The wind wasn't too bad, but the heat made up for what the wind lacked! But there was in fact three or four long drags that still have to be dealt with...

Again, on the run I chipped away, one front in front of the other, trying to hold a steady pace all the way, which I managed to do, only dropping 10 secs per mile over the 26 miles to give me a time of 3 hrs 54 mins for the "Run". On the last 5.5km leg home, I though I would be buzzing, full of emotion, full of elation......it was not to be. I was so tired and despite being only 5.5km from the line, still not sure if I would make it to the line. It took every ounce of energy and effort to keep my concentration to bring me to that line. Even 30ft in front of the line I did not believe I was an Ironman. I crossed the line in 12 hours 14 mins. The race director stood beside me, shook my hand, placed the Ironman Medal over my head and said........"Well Done Ironman". Not till then did I believe I was an Ironman.

It was a quick puke in a black bag, a saline and a glucosamine drip in the medical tent and I was right as rain again. Collected my time splits and Finisher T-Shirt, returned my timing chip, collected my bags and bike and headed back to the apartment for a nice shower and to relax.

Next day I packed my bags, and went out for dinner with the other Irish lads who had been so strong and vital with their words of support along the run as we all battled on to reach the line.......we enjoyed dinner and celebrated quietly that night..........Ironmen don't need to jump up and down ................Ironmen don't need to show off with a fancy dance. They are the ultimate in Sportsmen, they are the best there is.......and they know it deep down inside themselves, and that's all that matters to them!

Will I do it again? I said never again....................but lets wait and see...........

You can find pictures at the following locations:-
www.galwaytriathlonclub.com
www.limericktriathlon.com.

Eamonn Horgan, Limerick Tri Club: Photo

Steve Cleary, Piranha Tri Club

Here is part one of my Lanzarote race report,

I've only got as far as the end on the swim so far. I'll finish the rest as soon as I can...

So I finished. I'm an ironman. I'm the first P'iron'ha.

I crossed the finish line in under 14.5 hours. At least that's the official record. But to me 14.5 is just a number, almost hollow compared to what the race took out of me. My life span may be 72 hours shorter now, or more. However in some immeasurable way, I have become more than I was a week ago. Physically it took all I had in me to walk in a straight line. I didn't want the hassle of the judges trying to convince me to stop. I didn't know if I could deal with it. I stopped looking at my watch, it was too much effort to lower my line of sight and raise my wrist a few inches. My heart rate dropped to an average of 93 bpm. It was by the far the toughest physical toll I have ever put upon myself. In short it hurt everywhere, throbbing feet, swollen fingers, thumping head and beyond.

Emotions had to be put to one side. Two hours prior to the end, the thought of finishing was enough to cause a tear to well in my eye. I was too weak to handle emotions. I just had to detach myself.

There was great support on the final lap, but I starred ahead blankly along the road. I didn't smile or acknowledge the cheering grandstand as I crossed the finish line. The DJ called out my name, and said this guy needs your help. They were a distraction that I didn't need and couldn't deal with. I just kept walking one foot at a time in my mostly straight line towards the end. One smile or one tear and I felt it could all come crashing down. I never felt the elation of crossing. All I said was "I need help".

Mentally it was a matter of staying focused, being pig headedly stubborn. I was determined to cross that finish line whatever the costs. I knew my determination had crossed beyond the point of good sense. I was putting my physical health on the line, and I knew I shouldn't. In my head I mentally rehearsed telling my parents where my health insurance documents and European health card were. I mentally rehearsed telling the medical staff where my mobile phone was in case my parents weren't at the finish line. I fully expected to end up in hospital.

I don't consider myself a risk taker, I never have. I see myself more as the boring dependable reliable type. I'm not good at hill descents. I play the safe odds (most of the time). So what was that made keep going, made me put my health at risk, made me do what young single males are known to do? It came from within, I suppose.

This event had occupied most of my non-working thoughts since November; My weekends, my mornings, my evenings and my dreams. A wise man (Ciaran Cassidy) once pointed out to me that ironman and pregnancy are very similar. You spend long months training/preparing for the big day. The day itself is long and painful, yet somehow joyous and then you end up suffering from post race/natal depression. I hope pregnancy isn't as bad, but I somehow suspect it is worse.

I received huge amounts of support from friends, family, club mates and fellow triathletes. Most thought I was crazy. Thankfully my parents came over for the race. My father mostly carried me home after the race. He held me up as I used the toilet and soon afterwards as I got sick on the road home. My mother looked after the food mostly and was my photographer. Both cheered me on during the entire race, telling anyone who would listen about their son who was doing the ironman.

Nervous moments and preparation were shared with other Irish triathletes during race week. Ciaran Cassidy, Brian Heffernan and Eamonn Horgan, as well as chief supporters Ray and Siobhan from Galway, all provided huge encouragement. It felt as if we were more of a team than competing against one another. During the course of the week, we had travelled most of the bike course by car. It made a huge difference to see those feared hills in advance and to feel the stiff breeze on the far side of the island.

I had only cycled the first and last 10km of the course. I had hurt my lower back 3 weeks earlier in italy training. I still didn't feel like I was a hundred percent. I had taken it very easy during the week. I had only swum one lap of the swim course, and ran about 5km and cycled 20km, all at a slow steady race pace.

At race registration I had been afraid to buy an ironman Lanzarote cycling jersey. If I didn't finish the race, I didn't feel as if I would have the right to wear it. And lets say I wasn't over confident about the race. My back was my primary fear, but also I had not been able to train from Christmas until the end of February with an Achilles tendon problem. And of course, there was the fear of the unknown.

Friday was bike check in day. The first time all 800 competitors gathered together, with bikes of all shapes, sizes and colour. Dozens of languages and plenty of egos; one woman for every fifteen men. Each competitor was given a blue bag with which to put every thing for the bike transition and red bag for the run transition, as well as a white bag that you could hand in the morning of the race prior to the swim that would hold your pre/post race gear.

That evening I prepared all my food and drinks. A pre swim drink; Two drinks to bring on the bike; One drink to get at the bike special needs station; and a drink for run transition. Bars/bananas for the start of the bike; bars for the bike special needs station, and gels for the run. The food and drink for the special needs was put in the deep freeze for the night. Everything else went into the fridge.

I headed to bed around 10pm that night, which was far later than normal. I had been practicing going to bed and getting up early during the week. But to-night I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. I was tired so I kind of slept until 2am, when my first alarm went off. I ate three ambrosia cream rice portions and back to bed. Then at 4am the alarm clock went off again.

For breakfast, I ate a huge bowl of mixed fruit, a monster Spanish omelette with 4 eggs, about 4 boiled potatoes, 3 tomatoes and 2 avocados along with a breast of chicken and extra salt. That was all washed down with a litre of rice milk. And to finish it all off I had a large bowl of muesli. By 5am I was stuffed to the rafters. By 5:30 I was down at the race start, Frank Sinatra cooing in my ears via my MP3 player. I was making my final preparations, when I realised I had left my two bike bottles back in the fridge. Fortunately I was staying close by, and remedied the situation easily.

It still hadn't sunk in what lay ahead that morning. I shared some nervous energy with Eamonn Horgan. We both agreed the swim was not important as we lined up towards the back of the pack at the waters edge. A little after the 7am the hooter sounded. Some of the leaders got black eyes and bloodied ears in the race to the first buoy. The swim is not important I repeated to myself as I waded in slowly. I focused on a long relaxed strokes, hip rotation and keeping legs rested for the day ahead.

The water calm, still and warm; perfect swimming conditions. Sighting, making sure I was swimming in the right direction, was easy. I mostly stayed out of trouble for the first lap. My watch read 37:30. Perfect pace for me. I saw an Irish flag being shaked in the crowd. "Up Ireland", I roared. This was going to be a great day.

Back in the water for a second lap, about half way round I felt I was loosing focus. I noticed the seagulls hovering above the swimmers. I wondered what they were thinking. As I rounded one of the buoys, a pretty girl sat on a surf board making sure we all behaving ourselves. I felt as if I smiled at her, and I felt as if she smiled back. The monotony was getting to me. I noticed a 20 cent coin in the sand below, and little fish swam close to the sand. I had never actually swam 3.8km before without stopping.

As I approached the end of the swim the monotony faded. I could hear the crowd roar in the distance. I visualised what I had to do in T1 a few times. And then there was no more water left for swimming. "A third of the way there", I said to myself sarcastically. It wasn't the last sarcastic comment I made to myself. Little did I know that I had over 13 hours to make jokes with myself and myself alone.

And there I must finish for now as its 22:30 and I got to go home.

Steve Cleary, Piranha Tri Club: Photo.

From:

Wes Murphy
Public Relations Officer
TRIATHLON IRELAND
ph:  086 4056653
email: wesley.murphy@helaba.de
web: www.triathlonireland.com