HOW WAS IT FOR YOU?
GB pro Laura Siddall on IM NZ
Out of the darkness from across Lake Taupo, a drum beats, voices rise and echo across the waters. Shadowy figures start to appear. The Tuwharetoa Maori warriors glide towards the shore on their waka canoes. If there’s an athlete whose heart isn’t racing already, then this Maori welcome will soon have their adrenalin pumping.
Held since 1985, Ironman New Zealand is the longest-running Ironman race outside of October’s World Championships in Kona, Hawaii. The majority of the races have been held in its current location, the geothermal hotspot of Taupo on the North Island, where Kiwi triathletes Cameron Brown (12 victories, including an Ironman record-breaking one at the age of 43 in 2016) and Joanna Lawn (seven consecutive wins) have established themselves as legends of the race.
In a similar vein to Challenge Roth, Taupo’s community is heavily involved in the running of the event. Some 10% of the town’s population volunteer, with the 2,200 volunteers outnumbering the athletes by two to one. And the locals treat every triathlete like a superhero. The spirit and support is truly incredible, with every athlete receiving a letter from a local schoolchild in their registration pack. Mine was from Ilia, aged nine, and it read:
“Kia Kaha. Be strong. Be courageous. Swim like a sting ray. Bike like a monkey. Run like a leopard. I think you are a winner. Good luck.” I take these words with me on race day. ‘Be Strong. Be Courageous’.
PART OF THE WHANAU
It’s my third time racing Ironman New Zealand, but my sixth time back to Taupo, having also raced the Ironman 70.3 event for the past three years. I stay with the same homestay every time, and I’m truly grateful for them making me feel part of their whanau (family).
For the past two years, I’ve raced the full-distance Challenge Wanaka on the South Island and then Ironman New Zealand, just two weeks apart. This year Wanaka was a half iron, so coming into Taupo I should be fresher, right? As crazy as it sounds, I’d only ever raced a full followed by a full two weeks later, never a half to a full. And, frankly, it scares me as it’s unknown territory. It’s easy to get caught in this trap of trying to second guess how you’re feeling and what it means. But you have to just go session to session. Focus on the moment, and don’t pre-guess what you’re going to feel like on race day. It’s about controlling the controllables as the saying goes. And after finishing second at Ironman New Zealand in 2017, I’m going for the victory this time around.
The 3.8km swim on race day is in the gorgeous waters of Lake Taupo, the largest freshwater lake in Australasia (and roughly the same size as Singapore!), and you can see the bottom pretty much the whole way. The last 200m brings athletes into the marina and really close to the shore, where you can hear and see the crowd up close. I swim in a pack with three other women, and we’re moving well in the water and working together. I know there are likely three women out in front of us. After exiting the water in 55:31, we get the splits that we’re six minutes down on the lead.
ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN
Onto the 180km bike course on New Zealand’s coarse, chip seal roads. It’s eyes fully-focused forward on chasing down the women up the road as the course heads north through the forests and farmlands of the North Island. Two weeks earlier at Challenge Wanaka [where Laura finished second for the fourth consecutive year], I produced a really promising bike ride and the plan is to execute Taupo in the same way. Yet it soon becomes pretty clear that my bike legs haven’t got the memo and aren’t coming to the party. It’s important not to panic and drop my head. There’s still eight hours of racing to go and, as in any Ironman, anything can happen. It’s a case of reassessing and adapting to Plan B. I have to ride to the best of my ability with what my legs and body are currently able to give me.
As we head back into town on the first lap I start to make progress on
the women ahead. It’s a real struggle to find rhythm and flow, but I eventually manage to take the lead as we head out onto the second lap of the bike.
For most of the second lap, I ride at the front with the defending champion, America’s Jocelyn McCauley, shadowing my every move. Given her final discipline prowess, I know I have to get rid of her to stand a chance on the run. But I’m also aware that my legs aren’t playing ball and it’s going to be tough. I come into T2 after 4:54:18 on the bike and head out on the run with just a 20-second lead over Jocelyn and another minute back to third place.
THE POT-BANGING MAN
The run is three laps around town and the lake front, with the famous peaks of the Tongariro National Park (including the location of Mount Doom from the Lord of the Rings) looming in the distance.
The three-lap format means there’s fantastic support all the way around, including the local legend that is pot-banging Didymo Dave! He’s there every race without fail. He stands on the hill out of town on the bike course and then on the run course, cheering everyone along and making all sorts of noise banging his pot. He’s a hero of the race and I look forward to seeing him out there each time. Thank you, Dave, for your energy and support!
I start the run knowing that I’ve a sub-3hr calibre tri marathon runner chasing me down. All early indications suggest I’m holding the gap. I’m not looking back. It’s all eyes forward. But around the 10km mark Jocelyn has reeled me in and taken the lead. For a brief second I think, ‘That’s the win gone, you expected her to catch you. She’s a faster runner than you’. I could also subconsciously hear everyone watching the race, ‘There’s the pass, Jocelyn has taken the lead, she’ll run away with it now’. No sooner have these thoughts occurred, that I push them out. I snap myself into focusing on taking in calories and hydrating.
Starting the second lap I feel better again. I’m between 50-100m behind, but notice that the lead cyclist (positioned behind the runner) is getting closer. Am I gaining? Don’t panic. Don’t rush this. Just keep doing what you’re doing. Sure enough I’m closing in. As the road starts to rise up, I’m on Jocelyn’s shoulder and passing her. Eyes forward, keep pushing on. I don’t dare look back. I don’t want to give anything away. I receive the splits that I’m stretching away, but I don’t truly believe it and don’t want to look back to check.
The first opportunity I get to see for myself is at the turnpoint. I’ve a bigger gap back to second than I expect, but then promptly crap myself as I see the third-place woman, New Zealander Teresa Adam, right behind Jocelyn in second. There’s going to be no letup, but I’m not going to let this race go without a fight.
A WIN TO SAVOUR
The last lap is an array of emotions. Some of the crowd tell me to relax and that I have the win in the bag, while others say to speed up because ‘she’s catching you’! With 7km to go
“I’m struggling to find a rhythm on the bike but there’s still eight hours of racing to go and, as in any Ironman race, anything can happen before the finish line”
I have a 3:30min lead and start doing the maths in my head trying to work out the different running speeds per kilometre that we both have to run. I repeatedly ask my lead cyclist where second place is, and can’t quite believe her when she tells me that second place is nowhere to be seen.
Am I really going to achieve the win? As the crowd support deepens and I draw closer to the finish, I let the emotions flood over me. I have a huge adrenalin rush as the cheers from the crowd hit me. It spikes my heart rate to an uncomfortable high, bringing me back down to reality that I still have 1km to run. The street is packed with supporters. You can hear the echo of the finish line and, even though I’m getting closer and closer, it still seems so far away. I can hear it and sense it but I can’t see it.
I’m trying to savour the atmosphere, to thank the crowd and take in what I’m about to achieve. I’m not sure you ever appreciate these moments, as it doesn’t feel real. Finally, I turn the last corner to see the chute stretched out in front, the finishing arch towering and that illusive finish tape pulled tight across the line waiting for me.
It’s surreal. I can’t quite believe it, yet the finish line is right in front of me. Is this really happening? Hands reach out over the barriers for high fives. A Union Jack flag is being waved and I impulsively cross over to grab it. The words echo out from the announcer; “Your 2018 Ironman New Zealand women’s champion… from Great Britain… Laura Siddall!” Hell yeah, I did it!
A SPECIAL RACE
I’m getting goosebumps as I write this a fortnight later. The feeling of winning an Ironman is like nothing else. Athletes talk about the process and executing a race they can be proud of. And that’s true, but to some extent it goes out the window with the emotion of being the first woman to run down that chute to take the win. It’s just an incredible and surreal feeling.
So winning Ironman New Zealand 2018 will always have a special place in my memories. I spend almost six months each year living and training in New Zealand, and to win with so much support is just mindblowing and something I’m still trying to get my head around.
I’m fortunate enough to make a surprise visit to Ilia’s school on the Monday after my race to present her with my medal and some goodies, and to thank Ilia for her inspirational letter. It’s moments like this that will stay with me forever and why Ironman New Zealand is a special race.
The history, culture, the local community, the empowering support, the amazing clear waters of Lake Taupo, and the beautiful bike and run courses are all part of what makes Ironman New Zealand one of the best long-distance triathlons in the world. You really need to come and experience it for yourself and spend some time getting to know the fantastic people of this beautiful country.