HOW WAS IT FOR YOU?
Boasting lunar landscapes, intense heat and bitter cold, Israman has been a tri like no other since 1999. So how would Nick Busca get on in 2018? Cue desert storms and broken bones
Nick Busca battles broken bones and desert storms at Israman
Cycling though a lunar landscape, I’m surrounded by the sharp shadows of the Eilat Mountains, its dry desert highlands and its religious silence. The never-ending barbed wire wall that separates Israel from Egypt is unfolding to my left. A few soldiers armed with rifles and backed-up by tanks patrol the road. A line of bikes is stretched out in front of me and another follows behind. It’s like a silent procession to one of the world’s most remote tri sanctuaries. Welcome to Israman.
Born in 1999, Israman’s first 226km event brought just 26 athletes to the southern tip of Israel. Some 29 years down the line, the race now offers 226km, 113km and relay-distance races, and attracted more than 1,600 athletes to the Red Sea for January’s 2018 edition. I’m one of them and, after a tricky UK training phase involving a pursuit of consistency during Christmas and New Year, I’m ready for a 113km tri experience like no other in the seas, deserts and mountains of Israel.
BROKEN BONES
Cut to the race briefing and the organisers announce that the temperature in the mountains is expected to be 10°C (or a perceived 6°C) for the following day’s race. My chief concern becomes what to wear for the bike course. I haven’t brought many extra cycling layers with me and my only option is to wear all the layers I actually have in my bag: cycling base layer, sleeved tri-suit, arm warmers and cycling vest. I tried to re-assure myself that this will be enough.
Due to a massive storm, bike racking has been postponed until 4:30am on race day. I sleep surprisingly smoothly and wake-up refreshed. At the swim start, I also feel strangely confident, I say strangely because I normally feel overwhelmed about the race ahead. At Israman, to the contrary, I feel at home. The atmosphere is friendly and definitely more relaxed than many Ironman events. I feel in control of the situation; finding the swim start is easy, and there aren’t long queues for the toilets. The water is also a warm 23°C and doesn’t shock my body when I get in. I’m eager to get in the front pack and find a good position from the start.
This turns out to be the perfect tactic. By starting in the first lines I’m able to avoid the mid-pack clashes. Watching the sun rising at every other stroke while I’m breathing – and seeing it reflect on the Eilat Mountains – is worth the whole trip alone. I’m excited to clock my fastest 1.9km swim of 30 minutes, but the Israman is a race that needs to be respected until the very end. Every thought you have during the event must be balanced and humble.
Soon after I see my swim split on my watch, I trip on a hidden step (the road to T1 is long and not in a great condition) and fall on the ground. There’s blood on my tri-suit and my first thought is that it’s just a scratch. It’s only when I take my sock off after the race that the damage becomes clear. I’ve actually broken the fourth toe of my left foot.
REFRAIN OF PAIN
On the first part of the bike – namely the infamous climb towards a highaltitude plateau in the Negev Desert – my legs feel strong and I know that not many other cyclists are ahead of me. ‘Let’s smash this!’ I tell myself. Another terrible mistake: as soon as I hit the very first short descent of the plateau, a strong and cold wind lashes from my right. It sets the tone for the next 70km.
While I’m trying to maintain my balance, and am expecting my wheel to slide over at any second, I see that the guys in front are fighting the same battle. Everybody is having a hard time. The road starts to ramp up again but I’m really grateful for that uphill gradient because in those sections the road is more protected by the mountains and the wind is weaker.
What follows is a constant refrain of a long and exhausting battle against the wind, my nerves, my fears and my mind to push my bike forward for every metre, up and down the Eilat Mountains. You never know when – and how hard – the gusts of wind will hit you. You only know that it will at some point. It’s like a ghost. I can’t see it, but I know
it’s there. And when I feel it, it always freaks me out.
After the U-turn at 52km, the way back is even more harrowing, with a constant front wind blowing straight into my face for the rest of the ride. The fight against nerves becomes a fight against the mind and the only relief is seeing thousands of people in the same situation. We’re all sharing the same pain and moving through it together as if we’re a single organism. When I finally rack the bike in T2, I’m just relieved that I don’t have to do another lap of torture. I think the run is surely going to be easier! But I should’ve learnt by now that with Israman it’s never going to get easier.
REASONS TO FIGHT
I start the 12km descent trying to turn my legs over at a good cadence. In that moment, when the exhaustion kicks in and the pain is taking control of my body, only a mantra is able to get me out of trouble. I try to think of what my coach told me to do for the run: ‘Enjoy it in your mind and feel light’. But when I start running again on the flat after almost 12km of descent, my quads aren’t working anymore. They’ve officially retired.
What brings me to the finish line is sheer willpower and the support of the crowd. I start up the cruise control at a 5mins/per km pace and push to the end. I’m incredibly happy when I cross the finish line. Finishing the Israman is like finishing my first Ironman again – simply unbelievable – and now I can finally enjoy the accomplishment.
The days after the race, my legs feel far stiffer than after any other middle-distance race I’ve done in the past. All of the climbing up the mountains, the struggles against the cold wind of the desert and the downhill run definitely demanded a higher toll from my body. But mentally I’m fresh, and I’m very proud of my result.
I finished in 5:36hrs, 26th overall and fourth in my M30-34 age group. Being so close and not ending up on the podium is a disappointment, but I’ve gained a lot of experience that I’ll take into my race season. So if you’re looking for an extreme challenge in our UK winter next year, then look no further. Israman will give you plenty of reasons to fight.