One leg here, the other there

2024 Author: Malcolm Clapton | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-17 03:44

The preparation process for the aluminum event in Italy went close to perfect. Aluminum, because let's be honest - after all, half is not a classic iron distance, the cycle has just begun. But there are also various competitions of ultramen, from the mention of which my eyes light up suspiciously. In general, there is no ceiling in this matter, only the one that we ourselves will establish.

And everything would have been 5+ if, during the final 130 km bike ride from the sports camp on the farm, I myself had not brought myself a terribly bad injury. I had no idea at all that on a bicycle without falling one could be seriously injured. And the injury occurred when I suddenly remembered, in the middle of the way, that I mainly put pressure on the pedals and pull little, and jerked my right leg up. I didn't feel anything special, but upon arrival, after a couple of hours, it became impossible to bend my leg. Sleeping without a knee pad was not possible - after several awakenings from pain caused by tossing and turning on the bed, this was the only possible way out in combination with pain reliever. I did not mention this in the previous report, since it is not ironic to make excuses. Plus, the leg is not chronic - the left one, but the new one =) - the right one, and to the end I believed that two weeks before the race such a “trifle” should dissolve. I also could not give up the final stage of preparation 2 weeks before the start and completely stopped physical activity only a week before the start.

I will not describe in full the strategy for the race, there are a lot of specialized nuances that are not always interesting to a wide range of readers. And, in truth, it will take up too much space. I will only say that I fulfilled the plan completely, I myself was in very good shape, which is confirmed by the last segment of the half marathon with a pace of 4 min / km and excellent health after the race and the next day.

Swimming. A strategic mistake, which I had not thought about before, was the wrong position at the start. Since swimming is still my weakest species (which I plan to seriously work on in the coming autumn-winter), it just flew out of my head. My brother and I, during the clockwise swim, took the leftmost position so as not to get into the meat grinder. The meat grinder still could not be avoided, but there were too many factors stealing time:

• extra footage as when running around the stadium along the outer radius;
• the wave from the sea, organized by the rescue boats, exceeded all reasonable dimensions;
• prevented from swimming;
• helped to gulp water;
• carried us as extreme from the general group of swimmers, not allowing us to swim with the flow organized by it;
• made him wag heavily so as not to leave the course;
• in order not to leave the course, every few strokes had to stick out high out of the water and look for buoys and caps, which changed the position of the body to a more vertical one and, of course, slowed down the pace.

It's good that I swam without hours, otherwise the result of 50 minutes in 1.9 km, which is 10-13 minutes longer than planned, would have spoiled my mood for the entire subsequent race. At the exit from the water, I had to get my usual glasses from a volunteer girl, which I had to entrust to her due to the lack of a table promised by the organizers. The girls, of course, were not at the exit, I hope she was at least a little worried that she sent Stevie Wonder to the track. But no, don't worry, it would be too easy. Of course, I didn’t give her the dark glasses with diopters that I was counting on on the track, so I calmly ran into the swimming ones to the transit, took off my wetsuit and was already at the leader. Imagine my surprise when I heard my brother's voice from behind - "oh, and you're here!"

Velo. In the morning on Facebook, I confessed about my problems with my leg and the high probability of retirement. I wanted my supporters not to get upset when they were forced to retire. The track could be conditionally divided into 5 parts: a 15 km long run in a straight line, three serious mountains of 7 km each and a 33 km stretch down to the finish line. On the morning of the race day, I, in principle, did not hope to reach the finish line. I wanted to get experience in swimming and nothing more. But tapes and painkillers thought differently =). I hoped that after overcoming the last mountain I would finish the race, and so it happened. But, as you know, trouble comes from where they did not expect and not one. Having already left the track and started pedaling, I began to feel a strong constant pain in the right buttock. It was unexpected and I even experienced for a while that everything was against me, but I managed to warm up and at least mentally drive away the pain.

How good it all looked in theory when race chief Uwe told the day before the start that you shouldn't throw out garbage on the track, overtake on the right, or engage in drafting. Even on the ordinary streets of Pescara, there was a feeling that Italians ride bicycles in the same way as they ride cars - leaving their head at home on the bedside table. But in the race they were really annoying. They could overtake and block, drove both in a peloton and just sitting on each other's wheel, throwing garbage and much more. Especially, Joe was distinguished, his name was not difficult to remember, since I saw his sirloin most often. He apparently believed that he was traveling with me in a pair and for the last 20 km, overtook me by one kilometer, died, and I had to change course just to keep my normal speed and not crash into it. He did it 10 times for sure. Moreover, he continued to screw in this style even 5 kilometers before the end of the cycle segment. For example, it was clear to me what would happen to him on the run. As a result, I managed to run into the transit faster and won 20 minutes on the run.

From the nuances of the led, due to the lack of experience, it was not entirely clear why all Italians are so screwed up the mountain. The fact is that the same group made me uphill, as I twisted on the lowest sprocket with almost one foot, but from the mountain they kneaded hammered legs, apparently =) I did them with a whistle and light legs at 50- 60 km per hour. We showed the same result on the track, but then I collected many of those who were ahead in the half marathon. For the sake of statistics, I will say that when you are driving or running, in order to somehow distract yourself and entertain yourself, you count the number of overtaking. So there were about 100 of them on the bike, and about 250 on the run. As a result, I finished the bike in 3:04, which is fantastic with these mountains and my condition.

Fulfilling the general strategic plan, I had to restrain myself on the run for the first 5 kilometers, since I knew that there would be an arrival later. I was glad that I was more savvy here than swimming. I caught one guy and ran the first of four laps 5 km behind him. On the second lap, I found a new “hare” to replace the exhausted one. After 10-ki I saw my brother running to the meeting. They gave "five" to each other and a lot of positive energy. By that time he had run the first lap. Before him, according to estimates, I was about a minute and, of course, I wanted to run together. Once again we met after a lap and the distance decreased by 30 seconds. My last finishing lap began. And even though I was pushing off with my right foot rather conditionally, dragging it as a former sambist, the last thing I wanted was to be at the finish line with the rest of my strength. Therefore, I entered =), if you can call it that, of course. At that moment I was visited by such a surge of emotions that I will do it in spite of the pain, in spite of the circumstances that the tears began to well up in my eyes. Interesting, probably, the character looks, at the 16th kilometer overtaking a handful of people with tears in his eyes. But the dark glasses did not introduce the Italian fans into my personal melodrama. I caught up with my brother and asked for help and maintain a decent pace. As a result, we ran 4 kilometers and cheerfully overtook the athletes with 4 multi-colored rubber bands on their arms, who were also running the last lap. This cheered up the brother himself and by inertia he ran his next last lap much faster than planned. As a result, the half marathon ran out from the 1st hour 45 minutes, and the total time of the distance, including transit, was 5:50:05.

The transformation of consciousness after the finish took a few minutes. In the first minutes after the finish spurt, the thought of a complete ayromen horrified me -180 km on a bike, this is too much! But already entering the tent with food, the brain itched one single thought, and that in English - “It was fun!” And already two minutes later, sitting down on a bench with a tray of food, I knew that this was only the beginning of the journey. September - Marathon in Tallinn, May - Half Ironman in Mallorca, August - Full Ironman in Sweden. But, for sure, something can change =).