Its a very civilised start here, rolling swim start at 8.20am. So I had a good sleep and a good breakfast. I positioned myself in the sub 30 min swim pen towards the back of the group as I’m well used to putting myself in the correct place only to find I’m surrounded and held up by considerably slower swimmers perhaps being far too optimistic. So I decided that in order now to be in the right place I need to position myself slightly ahead.
I’d heard and it was in all the race literature that there were sea lice as well as jelly fish. I never even knew that the sea could get lice. I thought only small school children had lice. Anyway, whatever they might be, I decided it was better to not know.
So when I get into the water I am extremely surprised to find someone breastroking before the first turn which is 300 out. I can’t believe it. And further on someone is actually holding onto the guide rope catching a breath. It’s very frustrating. I exit the water and run up the beach and along the 300m runway constructed for us into transition. I cross the timing mat in 34 mins so I was thereabouts with the time for the swim part.
It was a non wetsuit swim so I have nothing to remove and I run to my bike. I grab it from the rack and start to run but its dragging along the ground. I look down and the back wheel is flat as a pancake. Oh my god. Not again. I place it back on the rack and remove the spare inner tube and levers from my bag, cursing all the time, ‘what the fuck, why again, two races, two burst tyres, what is wrong with these bloody tyres’ etc. People run past me and pat me on the shoulder in sympathy. They can clearly see my distress. Anyway, 12 mins later, off I go.
The bike is out along the main road and along about 20km to a roundabout, turn left and along over two bridges. These were quite spectacular if a little bumpy. Then theres two largish loops to cycle before heading back, past transition for another 6km up , turnaround and back. I was cycling well but the last 6km past transition seemed to go for ages. It was into a very strong headwind and the last water station had been quite far back. Plus the bottles were only third full so I was getting really dehydrated.
By the time I got into T2, I was gasping for water. It was 30 degrees and really high humidity. Normally there’s water available at transition but here at one of the hottest 70.3s in the world, nope, no water. I rack my bike and have to run out on the run course to the first aid station. I feel absolutely dreadful. I stand there for about 2 mins just drinking cup after cup of water. The girl handing them to me can’t believe it. I must have drunk about a litre of water in very tiny amounts in cups. I knew this wasn’t going to be great for the stomach but I was just so dry. I just couldn’t get the legs to work. I have never run so slowly or felt so bad. I thought I was going to have to walk. I got to the second aid station and gulped down lots more water. I started to run and felt a cramp and thought, here we go but it didn’t result into anything else. Thank god.
The legs were still really bad for about 6km, I was ‘running’ at just above walking pace but totally unable to go any faster. I thought to myself just keep going, its going to be a long day now but I can’t not finish another race after the disaster in South Africa. My feet were swelling up in the heat and they were getting really numb. I was running on pins and needles and what felt like someone else legs and feet. I had to stop and undo my laces a bit me three times. Half way through I get a big old blister on my right heel. Nothing I can do about that. I was just pleased to have pain in a different place to my legs right now. I started to pick the pace up a bit and was going better now. Its a straight out and back run and I made some time up on the way back. At one point a motorbike and camera man were rolling alongside me filming so I tried to look like I had good form. I made sure not to go too fast cos I’d pay for it, just comfortable, looking good. They seemed to film for ages and I was relieved when they rolled on to the guy in front of me.
On the run, the support hadn’t been great. The Vietnamese are really lovely but they’re very meek and mild mannered people. Shouting and cheering doesn’t come easily to them. I guess if they got carried away with themselves in the heat and the emotion of the moment, they might be overcome enough to clap just a little.
I was so pleased when I saw the end turn back through transition and on to the beach for the finish line. I didn’t even put my arms up I was quite annoyed with myself at just not being able to run. It was a 2 hour half marathon, the slowest I have ever done in my life, even my very first one.
I finished, went into the cool down area, slumped against a tree and slid down it to sit on the sand, leaning against the tree rather unceremoniously. Then a man came over and asked me would I mind being interviewed. I said that was fine and smiled. The interview was more about what I thought of Vietnam, Da Nang and the Vietnamese people than the race but I was more than impressed with the area and the people and was quite happy to speak highly of them all. I didn’t mention the lack of water. But they made up for it with free beer in the cool down area. And they had pools for us to sit in whist drinking the free beer in the hot sunshine. Sometimes its just not too bad lol.
After I got back to the hotel I was pleased to find out I’d come second. Blimey. That was a big surprise. So I went to the awards ceremony, received a very nice gold plate, stood on the podium and managed to pick up a slot for the 70.3 World Champs in Chattanooga in September.
Made up for all the pain but this race now has thrown up more questions for me. The way I felt on the run, normally a strength of mine, now has me a little bit rattled.