Modern Athlete Magazine Issue 102, January 2018 | Page 29
through the sand to T1, and having race number
four meant my bike was way at the end of the
1km transition area. Lucky me! Voices in my
head were telling me just to chill, and who cares
if I’m walking.
I was planning to ride to my heart rate, but after
about an hour my heart rate monitor decided to
stop working, so I would have to go on feel…
I felt pretty rubbish, to be honest! Anyway, I
ploughed on, legs heavy and body lacking
energy, not helped by the fact my back brakes
were binding. (I did stop and try to sort that out,
but couldn’t.) Not long after the turn around my
left leg caught my eye. My calf was massive!
“Shit! What’s wrong with it? Should I stop? Its
not that sore… it just feels tight.” I then caught
up to Debbie, and she asked if I was OK as I
passed. “No not really, my leg is swollen.”
My head was not in the race, and I was still not
really sure what to do at this point. Where was
the medic tent on the route? I could get to T2
and see someone there, or should I stop now?
I decided to continue, and when I got to T2, I
found I could run on my leg, and it didn’t feel that
sore, just a bit heavy and tight. I changed into
my trainers, hesitated as I passed the medical
tent, and thought, “Nah, I’ll be fine. I‘ll see how
it goes.” Well, that was the slowest 21km I have
ever run. My lungs just wouldn’t let me go faster,
but I made sure I smiled as much as I could. After
all, I wasn’t racing and was doing this for fun.
Still smiling during Ironman 70.3 Durban, but
Jenny was worried about her swollen calf
Increasing Concern
I was just happy to reach the finish line in
5:44:18, but I wasn’t feeling great, and when I
bumped into Britt after the race, I mentioned
my leg to her. She had a blood clot in her leg
in 2016, and told me to get it checked out
ASAP! Physio Robyn was also concerned,
and now I was beginning to really worry. I then
bumped into Annchen, and when I burst into
tears, she suggested I go to the medical tent
for a check-up and reassurance, if nothing
else. Heart rate, blood pressure, blood sugar,
everything was normal, but they didn’t have
an ultrasound machine there, so they gave me
Aspirin to help thin the blood and told me to go
for an ultrasound as soon as I got back to Cape
Town. “So I’m ok,” I thought, “it can’t be that
bad, because they didn’t seem too worried.”
However, going to the after-party probably
wasn’t one of my best ideas. But I still
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