MANILA, Philippines - Last year I joined the Ironman 70.3 Philippines at the last minute, sub’ing for the cyclist of a relay team. I was so impressed by the race, the crowds, and the intensity of the whole thing that was I tempted – I mean, really tempted – to do the whole race this year. Now, even though I’d been a triathlete for quite some time now, an Ironman 70.3 isn’t a spur-of-the-moment endeavor. The basic idea: swim 1.2 miles, bike 56, run 13.1.
And between the time I joined my first race in 2002 and all the years hence, more and more serious athletes have come into the picture, the competitive nature never as deep as it is now. I don’t know about you but I hate doing anything terribly. Dramatic, crawling-to-the-finish line moments may make for good TV, but I like to finish as quickly as possible. The less time I’m on the race course, the less suffering I have to endure. The guy on the course struggling to finish within an IM 70.3’s 8 ½ hour cutoff has got to be going through a worse hell than the robot who won the whole thing in less than 4 hours, right?
Of course, wanting something is a world apart from actually doing something about it. A faster, stronger finish meant more hours in the pool and on the road than I ever thought I could stomach. It would mean so much of my time and energy that it began to feel just a little bit, ah, obsessive.
As the good Lord would have it, I met the volunteer doctors of the Noordhoff Craniofacial Foundation and their “Smile Train” project. They provide free corrective surgery and post-operation therapy for kids born with cleft lips and cleft palates. Since my wife had recently given birth to a wonderful baby boy, we felt it would be an excellent way to give a little something back to the world. And it would spur me to my best ever race: I’d do the Cobra Energy Drink Ironman 70.3 Philippines for the Foundation. With friends soliciting “Performance Pledges” from everyone they knew, I’d be racing for money. Not for me, of course, but for the kids: The faster I finished, the higher their pledges.
From January until August 22 (the last day before the Ironman), I trained like I never had before. I got a coach (Miguel Lopez) to give me valuable insights on my program and keep me from hurting myself (ironic...). And I enlisted the help of everyone I needed for the cause. Ford Group Philippines and Suunto were among the first to step in, followed by C! Magazine, Total Fitness, and The Philippine STAR. All Terra Cyclery and Vellum Cycles provided my Time Trial rig. Monster Muesli cured me of poor choices of sugar-y breakfasts for a better dish. And my friends from the Fitness First Cycling and Triathlon teams served as fun, occasional sparring partners.
But for the most part I trained alone, in the heat, out of town, even sneaking in a workout while on assignment for this wonderful newspaper. I trained an average of 9 workouts a week, Monday to Sunday, between 18 to 23 hours. By my training log, I did a little more than 560 hours, 9,200 bike kilometers, 1,280 run kilometers, and nearly 160 swim kilometers just to do 70.3 miles. I’ve never been in as great shape as I am now. And I don’t think I ever missed an editorial deadline, either!
But it would all be worth it, because by race week we’d accumulated a little less than P100,000 Base Amount in Performance Pledges. If I finished in 5:31 or less, the Base Amount would be collected as is. If I finished between 5:00 and 5:30, the Base Amount would be doubled to P200,000. And if I somehow managed a sub-5? Why, P300,000 would go to the Foundation. How’s that for motivation?
Of course, I still had to get to the Start Line in Camarines Sur Watersports Center, Naga City. To get there you either take the plane, the bus, or a car. Ford provided a fourth option: the Expedition Eddie Bauer EL, which is probably one step removed from a train. Naga is roughly 400 kilometers from Manila, and the drive can get dangerous. Buses frequently drive off the road in Quezon province, and it was only a few days before race day that Bb. Pilipinas International Melody Gersbach and her friends were killed by a wayward bus. My wife Sheryll and I originally planned to bring our baby Max along since this would be such a special race, but he caught a fever and thus had to stay at home with his grandparents at the last minute. As it turned out, fever or no fever, it would have been nerve-wracking trying to fit the entire family plus race gear into even something as big as the Expedition.
Here’s why: the average load-out for your basic triathlon involves the bike, spare wheels, and several bags for clothes and other gear. For a 4-day trip to and from CamSur, the inventory included a large cooler, 3 large boxes of race equipment and spare supplies, 4 bags for clothing, 2 spare wheelsets, and 4 to 5 grocery bags of food because.... well, we like to eat a lot after these things. By the time we were done packing, the bike had occupied the backseat, and all the rest had eaten up the cargo space afforded by the fold-down 3rd row.
Then there was the drive itself, a fairly relaxing, if somewhat tedious drive through Laguna, Batangas, Quezon, and much of Camarines Sur before finally arriving at CWC. With my trusty EZ-Map roadbook, we took the STAR Tollway to bypass most of Laguna. Taking the STAR Tollway to Lipa, we proceeded to San Juan and exited at Candelaria. From there it was a straight shot all the way to Naga. If ever there was an ideal drive for such an SUV, it was this. The Exped’s big 5.4-liter V8 had more than enough oomph to keep a steady pace, and its sheer mass served as a deterrent from aggressive buses. Even counting for the zigzag roads of Quezon where I had to press deeply on the gas to bring ‘er up to speed from an apex, the big Ford drank a fairly modest 13 liters of unleaded for every 100 kilometers, or a rather impressive 7.69 kpl.
Other SUVs can do better than that, yes, but few can haul as much as the Expedition does. If I’d change one thing, I’d have wished for a firmer suspension. In the mountains, body roll and understeer really keep you from pushing the Expedition faster (or maybe that’s the point?). In any case, we made it to Naga in 10 hours, minus 2 for lunch and snack breaks along the way. And I might add, we arrived in style. Few SUVs just have the gravitas that the Expedition has, eliciting respect and admiration among fellow travelers. And I just fell in love with the power-operated 3rd row seats and hatch. When you’re personally loading and unloading around 100 pounds of gear over 4 days, such things are a godsend.
CWC on race weekend was a flurry of activity. Hundreds of triathletes milling about, world champions like Terrenzo Bozzone and Michellie Jones gamely signing autographs and posing for photographs with fans. For my wife and nearly every other female in the area, there was the thrill of sighting “Papa” Piolo Pascual who represented Timex in their Relay team. I’ll probably feel the same way if Angel Locsin joins next year.
There wasn’t much to do after signing in other than test swimming in the lake and recon’ning the bike course with the Ford. Overcast skies and spots of rain gave hope that this year would be cooler than the last, but nothing could have been further from the truth.
On Race Day, conditions were just perfect, but only in the cruelest sense of the term. I charged into Lago del Ray with hundreds of other age-groupers, struggling for position and trying not to drown in the flurry of arms and legs. Visibility was down to zero, and had it not been so painful, I’d have laughed at myself for actually bonking my head on the hard buoy platforms not once but twice.
Out of the lakes and onto my bike, I made good time and set an effort of 80%, averaging 35.6 kph for the 90km leg. Dozens of other athletes zoomed by me but I held back; a race this long is decided on the run. The bike was just the warmup. True enough, when I got onto the run course, the temperature was soaring and the high humidity felt like a towel was wrapped around my head. Even with water stations every 2.5 kilometers I was running dry after just 5 minutes. When I got off the bike I was still on track for a possible sub-5 finish, but after an hour running I knew it wouldn’t happen. At least not this year. My heart rate was shooting through the roof at the pace I needed to finish the 21k within 5 hours. It was either slow down or implode. So that’s what it feels like to let go of P300,000...
But a triathlon isn’t about feeling sorry for yourself. Not in training, and certainly not racing. When it’s not so much fun anymore, when things don’t happen according to plan, when your body isn’t quite responding the way you’d like it to, you just need to dig deep and see yourself flying down the finish chute. So I did. When my watch read “5:00”, I still had 30 minutes to go before losing the “Performance Double” of our little race within the race. I had less than 6 kilometers to go. I could have taken my time if I wanted to, but I didn’t come all the way to CamSur for a nice Sunday jog. Visualizing my son smiling at me, my late Dad who inspired me to run years ago, I somehow kept the cramps at bay to cross the Finish Line at 5:19.15. Performance Pledges Doubled. Not bad for a first Ironman 70.3.
Next year will be even better.
The author would like to thank all those who gave Performance Pledges for the Noordhoff Craniofacial Foundation in his Cobra Energy Drink Ironman 70.3 Philippines race.
