Race Report: Totalsports Challenge

10th Annual Totalsports Challenge, Kleinmond, RSA

6:18:28

1st, 4’52 ahead, dead as a doornail

I am aging, must be. This was my sixth, and I only know the number for the good math of others. But it’s been a trip, this Totalsports Challenge gig which started my full time fool career late in 2006. With uncertainty for the future of the event, I’m doubly fond of and grateful for the fine moments this multisport event has afforded me.

Returning from Xterra Brazil midway through my third year at Uni I received a call from Michael Meyer to offer travel and board to Sun City for the first of two Totalsports Challenge events that were staged there. It was based on the original Kleinmond event, with an obstacle course replacing the surfski. Seemed to good to be true, getting to fly North, have a fine time racing, earning cash and hanging with the party elite of the country. Felt I could get used to all that. Which I have.

I’d have sold my soul for the opportunity really, but Totalsports settled on just my vest. Now, six years on, I am again racing with Totalsports on my race getup. Full circle somehow.

All that intro to the 2012 event: which after paddling with 100 dolphins during the first leg will certainly embed to memory as one of my all time racing experiences. Crazy special to be paddling on the Indian Ocean, sun rising over the Helderberg Mountains while dolphins surface mere metres from your touch. Was so incredibly neat as an unexpected moment.

To understand the back end of the race, you need to reflect back to last year and my gastrocnemius post after missing a month of running following the Totalsports Challenge. I blamed the unusually flat, spring low-tide beach run done with barefeet as the culprit. I only paddled during the race, not a minute before or after. This summer I decided to substitute a few swims for paddles as I very much enjoy time on the water, the difference perspective it lends you, both on the river out at the farm and on the Lagoon at Langebaan. Two days after three consecutive paddles over the Christmas weekend, my right calf got the exact same nervy agitation. It took me another week to connect the dots, by which time I’d again lost my running momentum. When paddling you sit on the sciatic nerve, and I’m particularly sensitive to “numb bum” syndrome – a pins and needles like pain. Seems that nerve shaft was getting aggravated and manifesting in my calf, although the cause hid elsewhere.

It meant going into the race with some tention and uncertainty. I have weighty ambitions for the year which I’m passionate about, and although this is a day I appreciate for its fun side and business sense, the potential risk of missing more training than the 10days of running I already had, was a tough consideration. As an observer, I’d guess these are internal battles you’d rarely be privy to. Athletes are often nursing niggles and stresses.

You can adjust the pressure point by building and taping in two strips of foam positioned under the hamstring insertions which, while rotating in the boat, would lift the glute ever so slightly. Which is what I did in the Nelo ski I’d borrowed from Shaun Rubenstein. Nelo is to paddling what Specialized is to bikes. The best vessel I’ve ever paddled. The trick seemed to work and I got through the first of two paddle legs without much irritation.

For the first time I’d chosen to paddle without a wetsuit – for numerous reasons. But that decision was taken during the race last year already. Too restrictive in the boat, too warm, too difficult to get wet arms into the upper part, and simply too little advantage when spent and slow swimming anyhow. Thankfully the water was uncannily warm this season and I enjoyed backing up the 13km surfski with a 1.5km swim.

It was great to roll out the new Shiv for the road bike section. Seems I’ll need to drop a frame size though, so not quite dialed there yet. With more of a training day in mind, I was bold enough to stay with training wheels and Prevail helmet.

When Stuart Marais blew passed me early during the road run however, I realised my folly. Never let the guard down, and rather over estimate any opponent.

I’d assured my coach Torbjorn just 24hours before that there would be no reason for hast on the run. That I would be able to tip toe at 5min/km and not test the calf. Agreed to run the beach with trainers too. So merrily tapping around 4:30/km while believing I’m ahead of schedule with a body that was thankfully feeling in the clear, ended in a cold shower as Marais moved passed somewhere in the low 3/km region. Magnificent runner that lad.

I did not change a stride for a while, first trying to process the multiple risk reward scenarios in my mind. It’s January and I’m not ready to race, not meant to be ready to race. But then I’m not ready to loose neither. I pushed the Garmin block labeled ”pace” down to 4:00/km just to test the legs at larger amplitude and decided that was all I could allow for. I’d limit my damage as best I could, paddle with heart, and then make as an objective a call as possible for the closing two stages.

4:35 was the daylight spread when ending the 13km road run. Somewhat happy to get through without any calf strain but now very much between a rock and a hard place. Stuart Marais must have just biked and run considerably quicker than I had, was clearly in better nic, better prepared and on the offensive. There was an hour of paddling remaining, and then another bike/run portion to end the day.

I paddled in a manner that took me back to my uni paddling stint. Did some competitive racing for a season. With one of my most memorable race days being the 4th boat to complete a diamond while chasing on the 3rd day of the Berg. One of the two lads I was trying to help that was Paul Marais. He was in a pair this Saturday and was fast approaching with one third of the Arabella paddle left. I backed off for a minute, sipped Enduren, finished an Enduren bar, and gathered myself, and waited for the catch.

All questions of doubt, of whether I should dig or spare for the season ahead, whether my nerve is pinching or not, it all fades to stillness when on that wave. The only thought is to hang, to stay on the right side of that wake. We caught a visibly fading Staurd with 500m to go before the paddle/mtb transition.

For all the discomfort in the boat, I was now committed to the core with an roaring motivation. I’d have to be humble and realistic enough to admit that you can will all you want, if the body isn’t there, it isn’t there. My tank wasnt a big one, but offered sufficient to play with. I biked for home.

Alongside Xterra Grabouw this is one of two true home races I do, waking in my own bed, drinking my own coffee. My family support, compete, pack a feast. I have the best support team, who must have felt the tension a little. But this is my backyard, a race I’ve won five times.

Since I’d promised to run the beach in my Puma’s, and heavier Velosis at that, which would be even heavier after the first wave spilt onto them, I needed to chase seconds over the 25km mountain bike ride through the Kogelberg Reserve. I’ve not pushed much since Maui and so so enjoyed having an excuse to claw for better lines, better shifts. Edging out the limit.

I couldnt receive information in the final transition as the mtb is a remote point to point ride. So I’d have to run hard to the 4.5km turn and gauge it personally on the return. 8minutes distanced us onto the beach. The damage was done. To the battle and I.

For sure not the smartest effort to race yourself onto a drip when the form is not rounded. Damage is not the same, nor the recovery. But so you learn. And so you get to have more fun.

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Further back Dylan was having a battle with my flatmate, both of my best mates. Less than 3minutes separated them onto the beach in third and fourth. My father had biked in a team. My sister Helen in a triple doing the surfski, mtb, and beach run. Courtenay Brown, my Boulder housemate who had been visiting a few weeks, won the ladies Terra Firma event. Pretty awesome. But it was my mother dearest and cousin Kat who silently tolerated my race mood with a cool, calm and collected manner who stand out in my day.

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Six weeks ago I grabbed a surfski off the shelf for Bobby Behan. “Some man for one man” is one of his repeat musings. Master Bob got sea sick on the ocean, kept it up on the road bike, got sick again during the second paddle. But he man’d up, that Bob. What an effort. Some talk, some live. Fair play Bobby.

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Thanks to Totalsports for the full circle sponsorship six year on. Cheers to a few more.