Last Saturday was the day of Spirit of 78. As I have already anticipated my thanks to those who made my Spirit of 78 a fantastic experience, in this text I will talk predominantly on the race and the meaning it has/had for me.
I hope that the testimony I leave in the lines that follow, can serve as a guide and, who knows, motivation, for those who want to venture into these wanderings.
Would you like to have done it this year and couldn't be there? I could say, “they don't know what they've lost”, but I prefer to suggest “be inspired”. You have one year to prepare and it's already counting...
Objectively, anyone who doesn't appreciate physical exertion, sports and considers this type of activity inappropriate, I recommend what I do with what doesn't captivate me. Don't read further. It's boring.
A brief reflection on how to be in relation to this type of event:
I would start by saying that doing an Ironman can be a unique event, one of those that you do once in your life and you never get involved in another one. We stayed there, happy with an achievement for life. Or, it could be a way of living. Almost like lupins and beer. The more you eat and drink, the more they come to the table. I chose the second. Well, I didn't choose, I will be choosing.
Today, Wednesday, at a time when the marks of physical suffering have already given way to other concerns, would be the moment when I would start thinking about when the next one would be. Will not happen. I decided that I'm going to dedicate myself to half the distance. I will let myself with half the taste and the full pleasure. It is not a closing of the door or a “never again”, but the search for pleasure in other dimensions of this magnificent challenge. And it's been 5. That's not much in 4 consecutive years. It's looking at the history of those who accompanied me in this year's race, not to mention those who are already a legend in these wanderings.
The preparation and what was new for me in this year's Spirit of 78?
Whoever intends to complete an Ironman will be placed in the first two quadrants of the Eisenhower matrix and must train according to the Pareto principle. This is my opinion, supported by some literature I have selected, and the approach I adopt/adopted.
Making Spirit of 78 is not only going back in time, but also being faithful to these two approaches. When we got here, getting up between 4 and 5 am is perfectly commonplace. Training, commitment, and tolerance to physical and psychological pain are already part of the DNA. The mutation occurs naturally. There's no need to rush things.
I imposed myself to fulfil all the precepts to join the club of those who dress up for this event. Bringing a moustache (he had already done it in the 2 previous editions), wearing swimming trunks (I had already done it in the previous edition), bringing a steel bicycle with gears on the frame, was new. And the late-70s-style top, too. Complete the route and the race. And I did.
I carefully prepared my plan and carried it out. The purchase of the old bicycle, the cutting and sewing of the top were new elements compared to the previous year. The bike's preparation add some adjustments (the possible ones) and adaptation tests to minimize the uncertainty of the 180km race. The top, brushed between caricature and last-minute stress. I decided to cut out an old shirt and ask someone to sew it with pockets to put the nutrition and waste of the nutrition plastics used during the race. I thought it was easy to explain to professional seamstresses. It was not. They created pockets all around and missed the agreed deadlines. When I saw that, I wasn't sure whether to laugh or feel frustrated. Well, ahead.
Hydration and food needs were also taken into account for an estimated 12 hours duration of race (if it took more time, I wouldn't die from hunger or thirst, and definitively wouldn´t I be sadder). I didn't do specific training, I did what I do on a regular basis and went with what I had in my “backpack”. Regarding to finish times, I started with the ambition of the aforementioned 12 hours and to do the marathon under 4 hours.
Let's check the facts:
I realized that this year's event had one of the highest numbers of athletes with old bicycles and outfits alluding to 1978. This fact, in my opinion, added a lot of value to this year's race and was delicious for those who attended. Even for me, who had no idea what I was facing. With rare exceptions, it was only at the end that I realized it was this or that “mustaches”. Forgive me for the “mustaches” that I may have been ungrateful for not recognizing during the event
Preparation for the start:
I was the first to arrive at PT1 (transition park). I calmly put my stuff on and took the usual pictures. As soon as the first STAFF elements arrived to place the mats at the water exit, I went to PT2 to check-in and wait for the ride to the departure area. The reunion and the pleasure of seeing the faces of those wanderings around there brightened my day.
Once we arrive at the starting area, I find Filipe and Tiago preparing the kayaks to support the swim. If in previous years I felt safe and it went well, having longtime friends at the start and around during the swim could only bring the best sensations and could only run even better.
The swimming segment:
Having not done my best time in this edition, I felt confident and felt that I performed better than in previous years. The in favor river flow was not very noticeable and the river level was lower than in the editions in which I participated. Also, we don't catch the small wave that hits us upon arrival. These factors greatly reduced stress when crossing the signal buoys and exiting the water.
You must know that the way out of the water is a show within the show. All that was missing was imitating the pioneers of triathlon in Peniche, at the time when changing clothes attracted the local ladies (I fear I am opening Pandora's box).
The cycling segment:
It started badly. At the exit of the PT1, the chain stuck. I lost a few minutes there between the stress of getting off to a bad start and the lack of alternatives in case the unforeseen event didn't resolve. I took a deep breath and decided there. Glad it happened. It became a warning and an opportunity. I started to be careful when changing gears. The gears in the frame, in addition to not being ergonomic, cause immense pain in the biceps. I set out to go as aerodynamically as possible and that affected the balance of the trunk to shift with one hand while balancing with the other. After two laps, where I tried to go with a pace close to what I do with the lightest bike, my arms were already hurting more than in the swimming segment. I started to slow down and think that I hadn't reached the middle of the segment yet. Bad feelings came. Between the beginning of the third round and the end of the fifth, I had to be restrained, suffering and trying to find the best position. Believe me, the speedo wasn't the worst. If we don't prepare for failure, then we have to be prepared to fail. It wasn't the case, but it was close (to failing). With difficulty, I endured. The watch only triggered alerts on climbs, where I exceeded the planned effort record. I didn't think that 6kg more would have such an impact after 60km. Or rather I thought, but I didn't value it (a basic mistake).
About halfway through the fifth lap I was lapped by the top two. I felt that they would be at least 1h10 to 1h20 ahead of me in the cycling segment. Maybe even a little more. They were rolling pretty loose and I was slowing down (involuntarily). However, I lost track of those who succeeded them. For those who crossed with me towards the longest return could either be on my return or on the last return. At the end of the fifth lap, I decided to stop, literally, to lighten up a bit and refuel, one more time. Between 2 or 3 kisses to Isabel, I decided to hit the road. More minute, less minutes would not make much difference in the result of the segment. Until then, I had followed the hydration and nutrition plan to the letter, without stopping. Taking the sandwiches on the frame made my bike look like “Tasca da Badalhoca” in nomadic mode. The fact is, it helped a lot. I came out for the last lap stronger than the previous ones. The pains were already spread all over the body. I stopped processing them. I was aware that it would take more than an hour to complete the turn and that I would finish the cycling in the planened 6:15 to 6:30 hours. I approach the last turn without any pressure and in a light register. I could still arrive to the finish line, in hours to watch the Ironman world championship. I realized that there was still a significant number of athletes on the circuit. Not being alone is less discouraging. At the end of the cycling segment, I handed over my bike (like the Pros) and I couldn't help noticing a comment from someone nearby who, referring to the plastic I took to attach the sandwiches to the frame, said "this one is still comes with the plastics”. I assumed I was caricaturing that a bike from the last century would still be brand new. It was a moment of refined humor. Woody Allen movies came to mind.
The transition was much faster than the forst one. I tried to hydrate myself and eat well, as there were still a long 42 km of running to come.
The running segment:
I left with a bottle of water and a sandwich in my hand, almost at a walking pace. After completely swallowing the sandwich I started running at a very comfortable pace. The plan was to go between 5'10' and 5'40' to finish the race in 4h. After a half lap around the circuit, I realized that I was going faster than most of the athletes that were on the racing circuit and faster than planned. The watch's allerts to return to the foreseen pace were an evidence. I ignore them. The first 3 laps went by very fast (perception only). I had half marathon completed. And I felt like I did when I started running.
My knees hurt, like at the beginning, but I felt my muscles strong, my heartbeat controlled and my breathing too. The urge to urinate, just like the year before, began to overwhelm me. Good sign. I was hydrated. What a bummer. I decided that this time I wasn't going to risk the Cepsa bathroom being occupied and make a detour to go to the bushes (this year there were no bushes). I run another turn and a half and went to a WC almost halfway in the running circuit. It took me a minute, but I left much relieved and more motivated. I felt like I was hydrated so I could keep the pace. I continued with the clock reminding me that I should slow down. It was perfect to do the marathon well under 4h. What's the rush for? It felt good to go in the “race”. At the end of the fifth lap, 35km, I felt that I was still strong and that I was not going to give in to the pressure of the warnings to lower the pace. I couldn't believe it was literally going well. On the sixth and final lap I felt that in the 34 to 35 minutes that I expected to take, a lot could happen and the “switching off” is something that happens to the best in the world (something I don't even come close to being). But, after passing half the lap, the feeling was that everything continued as in the beginning. I accelerated a few seconds and rolled below 5'. Arriving at the entrance to the press museum park, there was Isabel filming or photographing (I don't even know). It was time to slow down and “drag” her with me to the finish line. After all, we were a few meters away from successfully finishing the challenge. Even if I had to crawl or roll over.
The final reflection:
The approximately 3:35 marathon left me in ecstasy. It was my third fastest record over 42km. If you consider that in the two previous best, I hadn't swum or cycled 180km with a steel bike, I'd say it was perfect.
I lay down on the floor for a few minutes savoring the moment. I had no idea the plane I finish or even asked. I left everything on the race. I gave everything to overcome myself, to dignify the race of the winners, those who didn't win, preceded me and those who followed me to cross the finish line. Well done for overcoming yourselves and for fair play.
After recovering minimally from the state of exhaustion, taking a hot shower and swallowing something, was good for the soul, I joined the “crew” that was on the finish line with one eye on the athletes who were finishing and the other on the final of the ironman world championship.
It was during this period that I collected my “Finisher” trophy, the statuette that is the work of one of our own, Pedro Conceição.
It was also during this period that I appreciated the personalized “Gift” that Cristina gave me at check-in. Two simple objects, but with great added value. If I was already delighted to have finished the race in less than 11:30 am and to have completed an unforgettable running segment, I had every reason to be ecstatic with such special “gifts”. RESPECT for these people. They know how to make people happy.
Yesterday, after finishing my work activity, I tried to read the endless list of messages in the event whatsapp group and saw that I had finished the race in the TOP 5. Aware that the position in the leaderboard is something circumstantial and does not make me better or worse than anyone else, it was the icing on the cake and an excellent prize for such a painful race. My soul start to travel with happiness and only returned to the body minutes ago.
The “fat” goals of the triathlon season for this year ended here. In a quick balance, there were 3 “Half” and 2 “Full ” Ironman and many RP’s overcomed. All of them with great happiness.
With this race, inevitably, I lost running speed and the time to recover until the last goal of the season is very short. It's not an opinion, it's a fact supported by sports experts. But regrets and excuses depress me. Porto Marathon, wait for me…. ….and whatever my body allows.
