Modern Athlete Magazine Issue 129, April 2020 | Page 40

MULTISPORT
family members’ clothing. I did what
I thought was a pretty decent job.
However, I received feedback
shortly afterwards from my
ironing coach that I should have
turned the shirt inside out and
avoided ironing on the print.
(The shirt in T2 was turned
inside out for me ahead of
time, so I wouldn’t make the
same mistake again).
I Want to
Ride My
Bicycle
Never been
so glad to
use a towel!
Ironing out the
Transition
I celebrated the swim with a prolonged, hot shower,
and swapped the Speedo for the (only slightly) more
socially acceptable spandex cycling outfit. Facing six
to eight hours on the bike requires mental strength
in the headquarters and physical strength in the
hindquarters. After surviving the full-frontal assault
of the pool, I now prepared my posterior for a brutal
battle of the buttocks on an untested saddle.
Tom had advised me that the best way to enjoy
a smooth ride was to apply as much Vaseline as
possible. I took this sage piece of advice to heart and
panic-bought all the Vaseline I could get my hands
on. I then applied so much lubricant that, with a fast
enough run-up at the Buccleuch interchange, I could
have slid most of the way to Benoni!
I had promised to do some ironing in the transitions,
so that I could become a real Iron Man, and set to
work on my cotton race shirt from the Friendly City
Marathon. Kathy had explicitly forbidden me from
applying my rudimentary ironing skills on any other
Despite the hot shower, I was
still shivering and my legs hit
the bike at higher than planned
velocity as my body tried to warm
itself up again. My wife offered another
cup of tea, which I gratefully accepted. I
decided that I should get into character and
therefore wore a helmet and sunglasses – no
helmet, no ride – but I had to remove the glasses
a short while later, as I couldn’t see anything in the
gloomy conditions. I was also worried that dressing
like a cyclist would adversely affect my personality.
Fortunately, I still managed to keep my cheerful
amiable personality intact and enjoyed chatting away
to the camera and answering some questions as they
popped up on the live stream and were read to me by
my daughters.
After 40 minutes of hard peddling my cadence was
still around 35km per hour and the first drop of sweat
finally formed on my forehead. I was quite enjoying
myself now, and looked forward to tucking into the
salty potatoes Kathy had put on to boil. Tom had also
told me that most runners who attempt an Ironman
don’t get their nutrition right. His advice was “eat, eat,
eat and eat, especially on the first four hours on the
bike.” Eating is something I am particularly adept at,
so I looked forward to tucking into my stockpile of
snacks!
One snacking daughter,
the other diligently
marking my progress on
the whiteboard
Getting Through the Kays
I was expecting the ride to take between six and eight
hours, figuring that I’d do well to maintain an average
of 30km/h. However, I was able to keep up a pace of
around 35km/h fairly easily whilst chatting away to the
live stream feed and munching through the snacks. It
was also very comforting to enjoy the shelter of our
patio whilst watching the rain beating down on the
pool, and I don’t plan on taking another swim until a
really hot day in December!
I had planned to listen to music during the ride, but
found that I didn’t need to keep myself entertained
between the eating, chatting to my support team
(which included placing orders for more food),
interacting with the live stream and reading messages
on social media. The neighbours in my street promised
to collectively cover the marathon distance, and I
enjoyed seeing progress updates on the WhatsApp
group. Likewise, several old school friends joined in
with some endurance activities of their own. One of
these was Galileo Risk founder, Hayden Simpson,
who committed to doing a hilly 180km solidarity Zwift
ride and generously donated R10,000 to Just The One
Foundation. The only downside was that the post-ride
photo of a scantily clad Hayden that his wife sent me
interrupted my eating plan for several minutes…
My daughters were equally keen to get the feeding
scheme off the ground, and had been jealously eyeing
the jelly beans. A vital part of my supporter package
coercion strategy was the promise that they could
share in the spoils – and I did well to get a handful of
jelly beans before all the sweets rapidly disappeared.
The bike’s timer had probably never gone past 60
minutes on a single ride, and when I passed 99:59,
it reset to 00:00. Similarly, after 99.9km, it reset to
0, much to my consternation, because I had been
holding out for the 100km milestone to go for a toilet
break! I’ve heard that cyclists are prone to accidents
and often pee in their pants, but I’ve had control of my
bladder since I was 18 months old and don’t plan to
start peeing in my pants again until I’m at least 90, so
I chose not to leave a puddle on the patio. However,
getting to the toilet proved hard work, my legs had
more jelly in them than the jelly beans I’d eaten earlier.
I struggled to walk straight enough to get through the
patio door and had to sit down to pee!
40
ISSUE 129 APRIL 2020 / www.modernathlete.co.za
My super wife and
kids supported
me every stroke,
peddle and step