Ironman 70.3 - Aix en Provence

I know, I know, it's the post you've all been waiting for! Especially after reading that last disaster of a triathlon, am I right? So here it is, the great adventure of Aix en Provence half Ironman... 

The trip to Aix en Provence

The race was in Aix en Provence, which is in southern France near Marseille. It's about a four and a half hour drive from Lausanne, so we headed out Friday after everyone was home for work. It turns out everyone had the same idea, and we were stuck in terrible Geneva traffic. Matt did his best to race us to Aix, but we got there so late the campsite had already closed. We spent our first night in a tiny, overpriced hotel, but I guess we were grateful for somewhere to sleep.

Day Before the Race

The next morning we slept in a bit (I needed all the rest I could get!), then checked in at our campsite. After putting up the tents, it was time to head to the Expo for check in. At this point I was starting to get a bit nervous as the race is the next day, but the full effect hadn't hit me yet. We drove the short distance into town and wandered until we found the Expo, right on a main street. It was just a smattering of tents, nothing very big at all. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't that.

 

First I had to stand in line and pay for Triathlon License for the day, then stand in a second line to sign away my life (the race takes no responsibility for death or dismemberment), then pick up my ironman bag with my race number and other needed things. Matt and Paul were great, and waited around patiently for me to do everything.

By this time I was so hungry my stomach was trying to eat itself, so we stopped at a nice restaurant... this is the result:

  

I'd brought most of my stuff, and started packing them into the three color-coded bags - things for my run in the red bag, things for after the race in the white bag, and things for the bike in the blue bag. After some confusion, we figured out that we have to actually drive to a different location to set up my bike. Ever-cheerful Matt says he's perfectly happy to drive, so we piled back in the car and headed out, but not before taking some pictures of the beautiful town.

 

  

Once we arrived in Peyrolles en Provence, we put the wheel back on the bike, pumped up the tires one last time, put the million stickers onto everything, and then I crossed into the athletes only zone. I propped my bike on the rack, dropped off my bike bag, and it seemed I was nearly ready. We decided to mosey down to the lake I'd be swimming in the next day to do some reconnaissance. The shore looked rocky, but the exit was (thankfully) on a metal ramp with carpet. The whole swim is in a protected bay of a bigger lake. There were no waves and I crossed my fingers that the next morning will be the same. I get a few pictures here with my numbers written on me, in case I don't make it the next day.

  

The lake I'll be swimming in for the race

Our evening was nice but uneventful - we bought food, had a BBQ, played a few games, then head to bed early. I had a big day ahead of me and finally I really AM nervous.

Matt so excited to have a picture taken

Our ingenious lamps

The BBQ/Fire (turns out it was illegal!)

Race Day

I wake up nearly every hour that night, worried my alarms won't go off despite my volume being on full and having set every alarm on my phone to go off every two minutes after 4:30am. Finally, I check my clock for the 10th time and it's 4:15. I decide this is close enough, so I haul myself out of my cozy sleeping bag and start getting ready. Before I know it, it's nearly 5 so I wake Matt up. He's kindly agreed to get up in the middle of the night to drive me to the shuttles that will take me to the start. We double check that I have everything, then head out. He gets me as close as he can to the shuttles, as I start pulling things out... wetsuit, clothes for before and after, goggles, swim cap, but where is my tribelt? The elastic band that goes around my waist and holds my number for the bike and run. Without it, and without my number on me, I can be disqualified.

The black band is a tribelt...

Just as I start to panic, Matt suggests we drive back to camp, pick it up, then he'll drop me at the swim start. I throw all my things back in the car and we start off. Even though it only took 10 minutes to get from our camp to the drop-off point, we get lost on the way back to the camp and it takes nearly 30 minutes. Matt's GPS has stopped working and all the roads seem to be one way (the wrong way!) I call Paul frantically and ask him to meet us at the gates with the tribelt. After calling him 3 times I finally get through, and when we arrive at the camp, he's there waiting. I get a kiss for good luck and we race off in the car again (still no GPS).

This is a great way to start race day, right? Well it gets even better. I am trying to navigate for Matt, but with only the maps (and not GPS) working, it's hard to see really where to go. I give him the wrong direction and we end up on a road going due east instead of due north. Finally, I get the GPS to turn on, and it says it'll take us 41 minutes to arrive at our destination. I try to swallow back the panic of missing my race, as Matt puts his foot to the floor.

We arrive at the race start 40 minutes before it begins, and I know my panic is for nothing, I hop out of the car with REALLY all of my gear. I'm surrounded by other athletes, so I'm not too worried. I say goodbye to Matt and he drives home to have a much needed rest.

This picture was taken the morning of the race -it's still dark

The time until the race started was used mostly to uncover my bike and wait in the extremely long bathroom lines. They had only gotten 10 toilets for 1500 athletes. When will a race planning committee learn? Before I knew it they were closing down the bike area and we had to go line up in our start areas. All the girls huddled together on the rocky beach, pink caps pulled on and goggles in hand. Some were solitary, but most had friends with them, laughing and joking. I didn't have much time to worry about what was ahead of me. My race strategy was to focus on each section individually and think about the other sections. Now it was just the 1.9km swim in the calm, cool water.

Part 1: The Swim

The professional men went first, then it was us. We had a beach start, so we waited until the horn sounded, then we ran into the water and started swimming. I hadn't had time to warm up, so the water was a bit startling at first as it hit my face. It actually knocked the breath right out of me, and for the first 100m I could only breathe on one side. I could see the kayaks floating on the side, looking down on me. Not this time, I thought to myself. There were no waves and the swimming was just like I had trained.

 Finally, I got into a nice rhythm, and was singing to myself as I swam. It's an old habit a swim coach taught me to remember to breath out while I'm swimming, and I've never been able to stop. The first kilometer was quite calm, even though it was difficult to see the buoys with the rising sun coming up right behind them. The next wave of men arrived from behind us, and they were not polite swimmers. They grabbed onto legs, shoulders, anything they could find. I stayed as far to the side as possible, swimming a bit more distance, but avoiding the men. Before I knew it, I was already out of the water - 47 minutes to swim 1.9km, fast for me!

Volunteers helped pull us out of the water onto the ramp. I pulled off my wetsuit quickly and ran over the rocky ground to the bike transition zone.

My serious face as I try to take off my borrowed wetsuit 

I grabbed my bag, removed my wetsuit all the way, socks on, shoes on, helmet on, and ran off to my bike. At least this time, most of the racks were still full, and I wasn't the only one transitioning. I ran my bike out, through the mounting line, hopped on, and was off to a nice start. My legs and body felt fresh, despite the swim and short jog.

Part 2: The Bike

And so began the 90km ride. Below is a map of the bike elevation change and ride. The red is the new course for us in 2013.

The course changed this year, making it easier (hurray!) as biking is my weakest point. The whole ride took 3 hours and 52 minutes, which if you think about it, is a long time to be sitting on a bike. From the start, I was constantly being overtaken by men (and some women). I was prepared for this. I am a VERY slow cyclist, and that's okay with me. The women who passed me cheered me on (and I cheered them on too!) The first part of the road we were on was pebbly-horribleness, shaking my bike so much that my wrists and bum went numb. That was about the first 20 kilometers or so, and I thought I wouldn't be able to feel my body if this kept up. Luckily, we passed back onto smooth asphalt, and my whole body was grateful.

Me right at the beginning, getting my groove on

I climbed a few "hills" early on, which are laughable compared to Switzerland's mighty mountains. Then the ride went downhill a lot, and flat a lot, and I absolutely loved it. I was taking in the scenery, singing to myself, chatting with some other racers when we matched pace, and it was just great. We were 68 kilometers in, and I wasn't feeling too tired at all. Then, we hit the first, and only real, climb. It was only 3 kilometers long, but what felt like straight up. Luckily, training on some of these crazy Swiss cols, I knew I had done worse before, on more tired legs. Slowly, but steadily, I made it to the top, crossing a "summit" sign, then loving the huge downhill on the final leg into town.

100 meters from the summit and there's a picture guy - why couldn't he be at the top?

There was one tiny climb ahead of me, and a very shallow up until the end of the climb. The last 2 kilometers with the slight incline made me grateful the bike was almost over and it was time to run! I finally spied the dismount line and was so overjoyed to have arrived. I racked my bike and took my time getting my transition bag.

I was feeling the fatigue by now, and it wasn't helped by what I saw when I opened my bag. My running backpack with a Camelbak bladder had leaked overnight, soaking my entire bag, all it's contents, and my shoes. I just shrugged, as there was nothing really to do. I pulled off my bike shoes, on my running shoes, slung my backpack over my shoulder, and jogged out. Another 21.1km of running lay ahead of me but I was so ready to be finished!

Part 3: The Run

The running course was a big loop you had to do 4 times. Each time you made a loop, you got a new colored band, proving you had done it. That meant as you were running you could look enviously on at all the people around you with all 3 colored bands knowing that they were almost done and you still had 3 more laps.

The first lap seemed interminable. I hadn't walked the course beforehand, and I couldn't picture where I needed to go. I walked a lot in the first lap, and although my legs were tired, I was more worn out mentally than physically. On the second lap, I could visualize each section, and I ran everything but the steep uphills (it turns out I'm a faster walker in that case). People everywhere were cheering, and it was very motivating. Paul and Matt showed up on my third lap to cheer me on, and took some pictures of me on my way.

I felt better the closer I got to the end, even as there were less and less people running with me (they had all already finished!) Finally, I was on my last lap, and then on my last 50 meters, and I was SO HAPPY. I do what I always do when I am almost finished with something - I SPRINT! I made it to the finish line, then cheered, "It's finally over!" My final time - 7:16:32.

 

After the Race

I got a few pictures taken, then headed to the recovery area. There were cookies, chips, and drinks for us, as well as massages. I took everything I could eat and then enjoyed my massage. Surprisingly, I wasn't too bad, just tired. I could walk fine, and even jog a bit.

Recovery Zone

Line for the massage - it went fast!

I collected my last bag of clean, dry clothes, then met Paul and Matt. We dropped everything in the car, then found a nice restaurant to eat at before the drive home. I couldn't help just a few last pictures:

Once in the car the tiredness finally hit me. I put my head on a pillow, curled up and was asleep nearly instantly. It turns out racing for 7 hours can really take it out of you.

Will I do another half ironman again? I'm not sure. Will I ever do a real ironman? Absolutely not, that sh*t is crazy. But I am so happy I finished and accomplished something that was quite challenging. What do you think, do you want to try?