Rivalry

As a school boy in South Africa, sport meant everything. And not just pro sport. School boy derby games would attract crowds in their thousands. Long after we'd finished school for good, iconic games between rival schools would be discussed at length.

The above video (in my opinion) is possibly the best creative campaign I've seen this year. (If not the last few years!)

So even though I understand nothing about American football, this video reminds me of how great it was to go to a school with a history, heritage and rivalry to rival these two teams.

To watch the full length video, click here.

Congrats to TBWA\Chiat\Day for an absolutely WORLD CLASS campaign. Gatorade should be singing your praises from the tops of the stands!

Kona Inspiration

Although it's been quite a few months since I completed my first Ironman, the pain is still fresh in my mind. Along with the memory of suffering, the sense of achievement lives large.

And in all honesty, the stoke of finishing far outweighs the torture.

So, I've entered another one! The Outlaw Triathlon in Nottingham, August 2010. The above video is what it's all about. The dream of one day qualifying a spot at Kona, the World Champs of Ironman competition.

Even if I only get to compete in the M50-55 category in many years to come.

(Congrats to GB's Chrissie Wellington for breaking the long standing women's record at Kona and winning her 3rd world title in row.)

When I grow up I want to be Usain Bolt

I LOVE athletics. At both junior and high school, I couldn’t wait for athletics season. While most boys at my school dreamt of becoming a Springbok rugby player or Protea cricketer, I longed to represent SA on the track. I took quite a bit of flack for being mad about track and field. I was rewarded for my passion and dedication to athletics, by being named captain of the school athletics team in my final year as well as gaining ‘Colours’ (a yellow coloured fabric piping that’s stitched to the outer edge of the school blazer). Sadly I never went as far as I did in those childhood dreams.

Enter Usain Bolt.

I heart how he’s made the art of sprinting comparable to that of a rock star. I can imagine kids all over the world doing the Bolt pose whilst sprinting all over the place.

Thanks to The Bolt, athletics is now as cool as what I’ve always hoped it would have been.

(Back in the day, the 110m Hurdles and High Jump were my game!)

Pearl Jam Rock the House

My memory's not great but for as long as I've been a music fan, I've loved Pearl Jam. I will quite happily name them as one of the world's greatest bands. Try argue with me.

I've tried numerous times to get tickets to one of their gigs in London but always missed out. They don't tour the UK much so when tickets became available for the O2 Arena I dived at the chance. And scored.

Last night took me back to my childhood and reminded my why I love live must so much. From the first cord played, I was in seventh heaven. Memories flooded back to buying and listening to my first Pearl Jam CD all those years ago. They were on my list of 'Bands To Watch Before I Die'.

Now I'm not much of a music crit so if you'd like to read a review of the performance, it's here.

All I can say is, watch the video above (excuse my awful singing along, it was extremely hard not to get over excited). It will never convey the atmosphere and pure brilliance that is Pearl Jam, but hopefully you'll get a small taste. Did I mention they played for 3 hours?!

Ever since I watched the Foo Fighters live I was worried that no other band's live performance would measure up. Pearl Jam equaled Dave Grohl and co.

They don't make bands like Pearl Jam these days.

Ironman UK Race Report

So, ‘apparently’ the whole idea of writing a blog is to keep it updated regularly. I have to be honest, I thought it would be easier than it’s been. In the beginning it’s all fun but as with most things in life, soon the novelty wears off and it becomes a bit of a chore. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not really a chore to blog but when life becomes busy (who’s isn’t?) it’s one of the first things to be neglected. I have new found respect for people who blog regularly.

Why’ve I been so busy you ask? Well, I’ve had the small task of training for an Ironman and work has been incredibly busy. On the work front, I’ve been involved in a few exciting projects that I’ll be able to share with you fairly soon. I have to admit, being busy in these times is great. I know of a few agencies really struggling so I can’t complain about being busy.

And now for the fun bit, the UK Ironman!

I won’t bore you with the moans about rubbish organisation, race venue, etc as I don’t want to put a damper on an absolutely amazing race experience. As I mentioned, training for the IM took a LOT of my time. And not just my time. Make no mistake, training for this race involves sacrifices. Bucketfuls! I can’t thank my girlfriend enough for the undying support and encouragement she gave me throughout the training period. It’s tough living with an IM in training; all those early morning training sessions, lack of social events and early to bed on weekend evenings.

Here goes…

I stood (that should probably read ‘treaded water’) on the start line feeling great. My training was disciplined, structured and plentiful. Yes I was nervous but I knew I’d done more than enough training and backed myself to finish this gruelling event.

Swim (3.8km) – 01h03m56s
I always refer to my swim leg as ‘Hero2zero’. I love swimming and fortunately I find it quite easy. So, generally this means I come out of the water way up the field and spend the bike leg being pasted by Lance Armstrong wannabes on full carbon steeds. Being a confident swimmer I positioned myself just behind the pro athletes on the start line. After a bit of an irritating wait, the horn sounded and the water bubbled to life.

For me, the key to getting the swim right is to constantly talk to yourself and focus on all the individual areas that make up the swim stroke. Reach, pull, tilt head, take a breath in, push out hand next to your hip, breathe out slowly underwater and repeat the same thing many, many times. Obviously at times I’ll include, lift head, sight the buoy, etc. As well as remind myself to keep the legs kicking lightly. The swim is incredibly boring so by repeating this over and over, it kills time and makes the task fly by.

It was a two lap course so I checked my watch after the first lap and all seemed fine. Coming up to the water exit, I had to hold myself back. It’s easy to get caught up in the excitement and I’ve learnt from experience that pushing hard before the exit is dangerous. I’ll tell that story another time. Out and running over the timing matt I looked at my watch and was quite surprised that I hadn’t been quicker. (Rumour has it, the swim was slightly longer than the standard 3.8km it’s suppose to be.) I took my time on the 400m uphill section into T1. The tunnel of spectators cheering as I crested the hill was simply unbelievable. I just couldn’t stop smiling.

Bike (180km) – 06h13m36s
Grabbing Felty and hopping out of T1 to avoid the mud I was pleasantly surprised at the number of bikes still racked in transition. Maybe my swim wasn’t as slow as I thought. (I found out after the race that I came out the water in 56th place! Long live my Hero2zero swims.) With the swim out the way, I was ready to unleash Felty. I had to put this thought on ice though as the only major climb of the route comes after 4km. Suddenly the road went skywards. With cow bells jingling (it’s an Austrian/Swiss thing I think) and people cheering, Sheep Hill Lane didn’t prove too difficult the first time up.

The remainder of the lapped course was undulating with some white-knuckle descents and long fast flat sections. The wind was up so that slowed things down some but on the whole I felt like I was smashing up lap 1. The saying ‘Don’t count your chickens before they hatch’ was made for Ironman events I reckon. Nearing the end of lap 1, I hit a slight pothole and suddenly saw my seat mounted bottle cages overtake me. My first instinct was to just keep going, until I remembered that my two CO2 canisters (used to inflate a new tube within seconds) were screwed onto it. I couldn’t risk not having them so I pulled over, unscrewed the canisters, popped them in my pocket and handed the broken bottle cage to a friendly blonde spectator. This now left me with only one aero bottle of juice on the front. Luckily there are many feed stations on the course so I knew I’d just have to keep decanting drinks I picked up into the aero bottle. Drama over, I came around to complete lap 1 in a respectable time, well within my target of 30km/h.

Sheep Hill Lane round 2 was OK, although the chalked slogan on the road ‘Pain is temporary, quitting lasts forever!’ was now slightly more faded since I rode over it the first time. I guess I was in a similar condition. In my head I always knew the second lap would be the worst, mentally. The thought of 180km is too much to think of at once when I’m on the bike so I just kept thinking three laps of 60km. Doesn’t that just sound so much easier? Lap 2 seemed to last forever. Partly because my back was in absolute agony (think bamboo under your fingernails type pain) and trying to stretch it regularly slowed me down a little.

Then the defining moment of the whole race happened. A guardian Angel rode up next to me. We chatted for a bit and then he inquired ‘Are you feeling hungry?’. One of the biggest challenges of the IM is getting nutrition right. I clearly hadn’t and was beginning to feel like the bonk was around the next bend. So when asked if I was hungry, the response can’t actually be repeated here in the fear that my mother might actually read this. The Angel then asked ‘How would you fancy a ham and cheese sandwich?’. I think my face gave him the answer he was looking for, for suddenly I had a white bread, ham and cheese sandwich in the palm of my hand. I literally inhaled it. I swear I will never eat another ham and cheese sandwich that will ever taste as good. Full stop.

I owe my race to you Angel and the only regret (maybe another should be not taking my own food in the first place) of the entire race is not getting your race number to thank you later. You embody the Ironman spirit. I salute you Sir.

With the sandwich in the tank, it gave me the confidence to push on. Sheep Hill Lane round 3 is best not remembered. Finally I was at the 150km mark, knowing now that I only had another hour left on the bike. To be honest, I did think at times on the bike that I might not finish the race. When your back’s cramping and you’re feeling blown, the thought of having a marathon to welcome you after T2 is enough to make a grown man cry. The idea of curling up into the foetal position under a hedge on the side of the road certainly entered my mind. This is when I remembered all the family and friends that were willing me on to finish. I couldn’t let any of you down, could I?!

With 2km to go I felt a pinch from behind and knew without looking that it would be my best mate and training partner, Beloki. It was a major mental boost to have stayed ahead of him for so much of the bike leg (he normally catches and passes me on the bike) but at the same time I wondered if maybe I’d gone out too quick on the bike. Oh well, the run would answer that question.

Run (42.2km) – 03h59m43 (Sub 4, that’s sweet!)
Running out of T2 with Beloki was great. It was awesome to be off the bike and my back was loving it. Beloki has the tendency to get over excited at the start of runs so I knew he’d be pushing the pace from the moment we left T2. I happily dropped off the pace and continued to race my own race. Organisers of Ironman events sure know how to test the mental strength of athletes. Most IM run courses involve laps, and this was no different. Long, undulating laps, without mile markers! That’s enough to break James Bond’s mind. The crowds were superb and I made a point of thanking spectators for the support. This didn’t last long. Not because I didn’t want to, but I needed to use every ounce of concentration just to keep one foot in front of another. Digging deep has a new meaning. I’ve read What I Talk About When I Talk About Running and Haruki Murakami explains brilliantly how on a run your mind enters a void where you think about everything and nothing at the same time but once you’re finished the run you can hardly remember thinking about anything. This sums up my run perfectly. All I know is that most of my thoughts were horrible, dark and unpleasant. It’s probably best I can’t remember. I do remember thinking once, ‘SH*T this is tough!’.

Somewhere along the line I caught back up to Beloki and it was quickly decided that we’d cross the finish line together. Mates’ oath. I remember telling Beloki that he could go on without me if he was feeling strong but he declined and we continued to shuffle along, side by side. Running into the park for the final loop, we saw a mate Jaaps, who told me that my girlfriend, Barbs, was waiting at the finish. Just the lift I needed. Leaving the park we heard shouts of ‘Half a mile to go…’, ‘You’re looking strong fellas…’, etc, etc. Another huge lift and relief.

Rounding the final corner, I heard a kind lady say it was the final corner of the race. And then I felt nothing. I’m talking pain. It simply evaporated out of my withered body. It was as if I was floating. No lies. At that point in time, running was effortless. In my head I was running quicker than Usain Bolt. At the Olympics.

Ahead on the right I saw a huge South African flag and knew it was Barbs. It still gives me shivers thinking about it now. Her smile was beaming and I could see she had wet eyes. I stopped next to her, hugged her as hard as my feeble arms possibly could and planted a massive kiss on her lips. With an ‘AHHH!’ from the surrounding crowd I took the flag and continued my way towards the red carpet finish chute. The rest is a blur.

Beloki and I crossed the line tie in 11 hours, 30 minutes and 49 seconds. 165th place out of 1,500 odd that registered the day before.

Ironman, tick.

To Barbs, Beloki, my family, friends and colleagues that supported me throughout the entire training period and race, I can’t thank you enough. Only once you’ve endured an Ironman will you understand just how much it means. It’s truly an amazing experience.

Will I do another?

I can’t wait!

King of the Downs

More like the Ups! Today is officially the longest I've ever spent on a bike. 8 hours and 35 minutes to be exact. Why? I'm asking myself the same question right now. It's also the most wet I've ever been on two wheels. I've been less wet in a swimming pool. At 60km, riding up Box Hill, the heavens opened. I had a rain jacket but it was like fighting a forest fire with a glass of water. Pretty pointless. At times we were riding through rivers that had formed on the road.

Today's ride is one of Evans' Ride It! events. A super sportive. This morning (and afternoon) involved 180km with 10 climbs along the way. Namely - Leith Hill (451ft climbing in 2.1 miles), Pitch Hill (559ft climbing in 2.1 miles), Combe Bottom (422ft climbing in 2 miles), Ranmore Common West (271ft climbing in 1.5 miles), Box Hill (567ft climbing 2.6 miles), Tulleys Farm (252ft climbing in 1.8 miles), Weir Wood Reservoir (342ft climbing in 1.3 miles), The Wall (406ft climbing in 0.9 miles), Yorks Hill (394ft climbing in 1.1 miles) and Titsey Hill (386ft climbing in 0.8 miles).

Sorry to get so technical but I think it's the closest an amateur in the UK will ever get to experiencing what's it's like to ride a stage of a Pro Tour event. (Bar going to the L'E'Tape in France.)

Because 180km just isn't long enough, I decided to get lost and do and extra 10km. So, today I rode 190km. Nice. (My bum is not friends with me.)

Cleverly (NOT!) the steepest hill (mountain) of the day is saved for last. Words can't describe the world of pain I was in creeping up Titsey Hill. Looking down I even saw a slug overtake me. It was only pride and ego that stopped me from walking it.

Come August 2nd (Ironman UK), I know my legs will thank me for today's punishment.

Bring it!

(King of the Downs profile - western and eastern loops.)

Running a PB!

I most certainly heart running a PB. Last weekend I competed in the Richmond Half Marathon. It's a great course, not a hill in sight, quiet roads and great scenery. It's also a running club organised half marathon, so there's much fewer runners than the big money-making half marathons. It also means most runners are semi-serious (committed) runners that run regularly and belong to a running club. It's great standing at the start seeing all the different clubs being represented. A nice social occasion. Until the horn sounded.

The plan was to run my own race and not run alongside my training partner Beloki as he has the tendency to go out too quickly for my liking. I prefer to start out on race plan pace and remain consistent through the race. After 3 miles I was feeling amazingly good. Not breathing hard, managing to stay under 7 minutes per mile and still enjoying the sights. It was an awesome morning along the Thames. Sunny and the perfect temperature for a race.

Miles 8 and 9 were tough. Partly because we were running on the long straight tow path between Hampton Court and Kingston but also because the loose surface of the tow path felt awkward to push the pace on.

Finally I got to the last mile were I was able to really keep the pace going which felt great. It's so cool to finish a race strongly. I put in a cheeky sprint over the last 100m just to get in front of my training partner, mainly for psychological reasons : )

The other significant point is that this PB came after a few weeks of really hard training sessions with the UK Ironman in mind. The Richmond race was all part of the preparation so to be getting faster means all the extra swimming and riding I'm doing is helping my running hugely.

So with a new PB of 1h31m35s I'm hoping it's not long until I can try go under 1h30m. Small steps.