MULTISPORT
With a neighbourhood power outage , there was no choice but to braai
My concentrated Strava run squiggle that the end was in sight , I was able to build a good momentum and knocked off laps at a decent pace .
Tom , with eight Ironmen and one Comrades finish to his name , had told me , “ They are about the same in terms of overall physical exhaustion . However , Comrades is the most painful thing I ’ ve ever experienced in my entire life .” My view is that Comrades is still peerless when it comes to inflicting pain , anguish and mental torture upon one ’ s soul for extended periods of time , but the Home Ironman tips the scales on the physical exhaustion scorecard .
How do I come to this conclusion ? During Comrades I look forward to a beer at the last Fourways Club support table on route , normally about 20km to 25km from the finish . I had originally planned to enjoy a beer somewhere in the mid-30s and slowly savour some medicinal mouthwash whilst walking out a few laps . However , I was so tired that I could not even contemplate drinking a beer and had to stick to Coke and Crème Soda . Also factored into my beer deferral decision was the fact that walking was apparently not recording as distance travelled on my GPS , and I was afraid of spilling irreplaceable lockdown beer if I tried to run with a bottle in my hand ! feasting on their braai , but I had no desire to eat anything other than the odd jelly baby . I would call out to them as each kilometre was ticked off , and with just under 2km left , they returned to the top of the driveway to encourage me to the finish . With renewed vigour in my legs and thoughts of a Triple B ( explanation forthcoming ) in my head , my pace picked up .
My youngest daughter joined me for the last two laps . She ’ d accompanied me for a few intermittent laps during the day and was still able to bounce ahead of me , pulling me through the last 250 metres . On the final return lap up the driveway , I felt an immense sense of relief and achievement , and finished to the cheers of the Fraser family over the wall and the embrace of my wife and daughters in front of our garage .
At about 8:30pm , 13 hours and 28 minutes after a Nerf gun fired on a dark and stormy morning , the Home Ironman was completed . This eclipsed my previous longest ever endurance event of a 10:40 personal worst at the 2017 Comrades “ Up ” run . My final splits were swim 1:10 , cycle 5:20 , run 6:17 , ironing shirts and general stuffing around during transitions 41 minutes . I ’ ve run plenty of marathons , but this was the first time I ’ ve warmed up with a 3.9km swim and 180km bike ride . I honestly don ’ t know where all the time went to get that 6:17 split , but this was by some way the longest , toughest and most rewarding marathon I ’ ve ever run .
Time for Those Beers
I had started the morning with a Triple T and was now looking forward to concluding the day with a Triple B – beer , bath and bed . To properly execute a Triple B , you run a hot bath , get two beers ( I recommend the ‘ safety first ’ option of long tom cans ), get into the bath and drink your beers . There is something regal about drinking beer in the bathtub , and once both beers are finished , it ’ s time to get out and go to bed .
Whilst enjoying that second beer in the bath , I finally found my sense of humour again , so I mustered up the strength and courage to announce , “ Well , that was a lot of fun ! So , what are we going to do next weekend ?” Whilst actions might speak louder than words , one thunderous look from your wife can be the most powerful expression of all .
As such , Kathy chose not to respond verbally . She didn ’ t need to . The contemptuous look my frivolous jest received told me that audacity would not be tolerated . And if I wanted to survive the rest of lockdown , I knew that one crazy endurance event was more than enough ! However , that was before the lockdown was extended by two weeks . Perhaps , just perhaps , that leaves the gap open for a sequel …
Into the Home Straight
I was checking every two laps that the GPS was still recording my distance , and over the last couple of kilometres this changed to every lap , since it would randomly cheat me out of a few hundred metres every so often . Meanwhile , my family were ravenously
A perfectly executed Triple B
33