I had great admiration for the top triathlon athletes and started watching ironman competitions on YouTube. Not believing I was ready for an ironman, was the spur for me to set the ultimate challenge. Lanzarote on the 19th May was the closest ironman event to my birthday and the entry was completed. The fact that it had the reputation of being the toughest of all the ironman races made it all the more interesting.
The first few months of training fitted in around the schedule of triathlons last summer and the training for the Dublin City Marathon in October with the Clare Crusaders. So the real Ironman training began in November. Typically training involved up to 20 hours per week of mixed training of running, swimming and cycling. The cold and dark winter weather was no preparation for the heatwave and blazing sunshine of Lanzarote.
Roll on, May and our arrival in Lazarote, the heat was sweltering but the excitement was brewing. You knew you were at something special when you have a parade of nations for the 36 competing countries while you are carb-loading at the pasta party in the famous Club la Santa. With the bikes and nutrition bags prepared the night before, it was all ready for the start. A 4.30 am breakfast kicked off the day itself, a few last minute checks and race start at 7 am. Clear skies and a rising sun could not be fully appreciated due to the nerves.
Swim done in 1.14, relief to have the first leg down, try to find my land legs and into transition (Main Street of Porto Del Carmen). A quick change of gear and a good covering of suncream and it was onto the bike. Mark was not far behind me, coming out of the water at 1.21. As I was exiting the transition tent, he was coming in, a quick chat and a slap on the back to us both – see you later brother. The sense of relief after the swim, gave me a great boost and I pushed hard on the bike. The first 10 kms was nice and flat and I was feeling great but that did not last long as the first of the hills was soon reached. The scenery was fabulous, it was not long before we were cycling through the lava fields and there was amazing spectator support along the route – people on the side of the road, on bikes and in cars. There was Irish flags all over the place which was great to see and always provided a bit of a boost.
As mid way in the cycle approached and the sun was high in the sky, the heat started to take its toll and the doubts set in. Had I taken on enough water? Did I eat enough? Would I have the energy to finish? All the nagging doubts, that I feared were now becoming a reality. With a lapse of concentration and worrying, my pace began to dip. Soon a familiar face appeared over my shoulder, Mark had closed the gap and was cycling with me. With the daunting second half ahead, we covered the miles together but one of the biggest climbs of the day hit me hard and the young lad powered away from me. All the climbing took its toll, my legs just did not have the power and I wanted to save something for the marathon ahead. Around the 120 km point, we were reunited and were able to pick up our special needs bag with some treats. At this well-earned break, a short spell off the bike and the delights of sugary donuts while 1.2 km above sea-level. Long descents followed which were a relief after the climbing but it also was scary with numerous hairpin bends so you could not be too reckless. The last 30 km brought little relief as the road surface was dreadful and I was just willing it to end, so that I could get into my marathon. The main street was mobbed by supporters, including our family and friends from home and it really gave me a great lift and encouragement on the start of the final leg. Almost 9.5 hours on the clock and I still had a marathon to run, but also excited as this was my strongest discipline.
I thought that I was going to run faster than Mark and that I could close the gap faster but I only got the gap closed to 8 minutes but I could not gain those extra minutes. The heat of the day and climbing on the bike leg had taken its toll on the my body. Each time we met, we stopped for a quick chat. As the race worn on and the hours clocked away, it became apparent that Mark and myself could finish together. Well, we had a plan which was that we would cross the line together if we were within touching distance of each other. So as we met on the final loop, the heads nodded to each other and I knew that I had to push on for the next few miles and catch up with Mark (well let the truth be told, Mark slowed down and waited for me).
The plan worked and as we approached the finish line, the Irish flag was pulled out of the pocket and the Daly brothers were declared Ironmen together as the clocked stopped ticking at 13.34.19. The emotion of running down the finishing stretch is hard to describe, the relief of having achieved our goal was amazing. It was brilliant to be congratulated by the race director on the line and handed our medals (which were undoubtedly well earned). Oh what a day, so much tension, nerves, excitement and mix of emotions. I cannot say it was easy, there were doubts, aches and pains but it was completed and the time on the clock was not that important but it is a target to beat for the next one. Now time for some birthday cake!!!