Spectacular! That’s the best
adjective to describe Challenge Roth – spectacular in the sense of how
awe-inspiring the event is in its organization and display of endurance
athletics, and spectacular in the sense of being a true (and huge) show. Compared
to most sporting events I’ve competed in, in terms of "visuals", Roth is like the original Star Trek
series to Game of Thrones... (No offense to Star Trek fans – I love the series
too, just like I love low-key races.)
So this was back in early July, and I was there to accompany my friend
Anthony, who I can thank for introducing me to the world of triathlons by
encouraging me to participate at Alpe d’Huez in 2013 and then Ironman Vichy in
2015. He had crewed for me at the Swiss Irontrail and at the GUCR, and I was
really excited to share this new experience with him, help him out as best I
could (a little less allowance for roadside assistance in triathlons than at
the GUCR, but still), and witness a tough endurance event from the outside.
And tough it is. Having competed in Ironman-distance
triathlon and now witnessed another, I am firmly convinced that it can qualify
as the toughest single-day (i.e.
10-16 hours) endurance event out there, for two specific reasons: the training
commitment required to toe the line with decent expectations, and the intensity
of the effort engaged to complete it.
Elite ultra running coach Jason Koop
says that to have a good chance of finishing a 100-mile (160km) footrace, you
should train for at least 9 hours/week for 6 out of the last 9 weeks (so before
a 3-week taper). And that works. But I’m quite sure that the average weekly training
load for the average triathlete when they’re just starting out their plan, six months from an Ironman distance event, before
reaching 14, 16 or more hours per.
That takes a lot of energy and
dedication (and lack of sleep), so just getting to the starting line of an
ironman is a feat of endurance in itself – especially when, like my friend
Andrew, you started a new job in a high-powered environment four months before
and would still like to be living with your wife and two young kids when the
whole thing is over.
Then with regards to the effort
exacted by competing in a long distance triathlon, though it is comparable time-wise to a 100k road race for
example, I don’t think it’s comparable intensity-wise (again, for the average
competitor). I doubt that I am the only to “slack off” in an ultra when the
going gets a bit tough, gab with my wife or a friend on the phone, and rest up
at a checkpoint stuffing myself with food, fixing my feet or getting a massage.
Haven’t noticed much of that in an ironman. In fact, I think most participants
are competing as if constantly up against a time barrier; it’s like keeping up
marathon intensity but for a whole day. At least that was my experience at
Vichy and it is what I found most mentally tough. I felt drained after that in
ways I have rarely felt after an ultra.
So anyway, back to the start of
Roth. Actually the race started about 20km out along the Main-Donau canal, just
outside Hipolstein – and already at 6am (the first wave departed at 6.30am)
crowds were lining the river banks along at least a kilometer stretch. And
there was no real point in trying to find a spot near the swim launch pad, the
crowd was five rows deep. Music was blaring – ok, eighties hard rock stadium
favorites (Bon Jovi, Survivor, Queen), but as I’ve mentioned, that’s what it’s
all about. And it does get your heart racing. I certainly was getting chills.
Anthony was admittedly a bit subdued
as we parted ways and he headed for the transition area to check on his bike
and put on his wetsuit (for a 7.25am). He told me later he was having a hard
time getting his head in the race. I went up on the bridge to watch but even
that was packed! So I headed back down along the bank – due to a curve in the
river, I couldn’t actually see the departure, but like the others around me, I
was just waiting for the first swimmers to make their way around the buoys
towards us, before they turned back towards the swim finish – about 40mn after
the first wave. A loud gun shot went off every ten minutes as each wave
departed, with almost non-stop commentary from someone who must have a day-job
as radio DJ.
Eventually I left to scope out the
next sighting area, which was at 70km on the bike route, but due to the nature
of the course it was actually only a 3km from the transition area at the
(in)famous Solarer Berg.
No way was I going to see Anthony in
that crowd so I headed about a kilometer up to where the food station was and
decided that was where I would position myself (we’d also agreed on that in
case I needed to give him some food he had left with me, or if he needed to
unload some stuff). Recon done, I jogged back to the transition area (the two
back-and-forths would give me a nice log for my own training!) to try and see
if I could catch Anthony coming out of the water. It was 8.30am so I figured I
had a bit of time.
BIKE COURSE
He did come out in 1h25, but I
didn’t see him! But by 9am, figuring that I had in fact missed him, or he had
actually quit during the swim (which I considered highly unlikely, but apparently
he did have a moment of doubt at one point), I jogged to Solarer Berg, then
went up the hill for about 500 meters, away from the crowds that I think would
rival even the most fanatic at the Tour de France…
…and stood at the roadside opposite
the refreshment stand. It took about 45mn before he showed up, during which
time I gained an even deeper appreciation for the volunteers and their
thankless task. At least at an ultra marathon, they generally get to chat with all
except the fastest (or surliest) competitors, but here everyone was cruising by
on their bikes, hands outstretched to grab a bottle or gel on the fly.
A few stopped at the stands to
change bottles or take a breather, which is what Anthony did so we could
exchange a few words. He didn’t seem in the best of states, morale-wise, only
slowly emerging from a dark spot that had lasted since the swim through about
50km of the bike ride. He mentioned some niggles and how he was finding this a real
challenge, so I sort of ignored the faint undertones of negativity – it
wouldn’t have done him much good anyway to focus on the bad stuff, since in any
case he had to get on with things, and he was starting to do that – and just
told him he was making good time (which he was), and was looking good (which he
was), and told him I’d meet him at Greding just past the 120km.
I jogged back to the car through the
crowds, and while the top bikers were already cruising past the start line for
their 2nd loop, the last competitors were heading out from the swim
onto the bike course. There were still hundreds of people milling around, and
it must of felt good for those in the back to have that kind of support.
I hopped in Anthony’s car and drove
for about 20mn to Greding (I always find it fascinating to realize, cruising on
the German Autobahn at 130kph, that the competitors will have to cover this
distance and much more by bike). It’s at Greding when I took stock of how tough
this course was, since the food point was situated at the top of steep hill,
and while it’s not the distance of the Alpe d’Huez climb, a half-dozen of those
on the course (which means a full dozen total for two loops) can really kill
your legs…
As a spectator, however, the view
point was bliss. A few food stands and – oh rapture, oh joy! – non-alcoholic
Weissbier from the brand sponsoring the event. I was in heaven…
Anthony came powering up the hill
about 20mn later, and considering the incline I was able to jog beside him for
half a minute or so. He looked a bit drained but otherwise good, happy I think
to be on the backend of the bike course. He commented on the toughness of the
course, and I used that to point out how well he was doing – not far off his
Vichy time, on a tougher course and with similar heat. Yep, it was hot out,
over 30°C, and humid.
I left Anthony to refill on isotonic
drink, while I went back for another Weissbier…
RUN COURSE
Getting to Roth for the run course
was the main difficulty of the day. Or more precisely, finding a parking space.
Access to the small town was cordoned off completely within 300 meters, since
the run course looped back and forth through the town. I kept being diverted by
“detour” signs, unable to find a parking spot, till I just maneuvered around a
road block and into a supermarket parking lot.
Once I found the run course, I
couldn’t understand which way it went, since people were running in both
directions, and where I should go. I chose a direction but soon found myself
heading towards a wooded area, which meant I was probably heading away from
Roth. I wanted to position myself at around the 10km mark, and could find that
on the race course map – but I didn’t know where I was on the map.
Finally I found someone who was able
to point me in the right direction, and it meant weaving my way to other side
of the small town of Roth. The atmosphere was amazing – the main drag was
cordoned off for the runner, and the sidewalks were packed with people milling
around, while restaurants all hand tables and benches out, with sausage and
pretzel stands, and everyone having a great time cheering the runners on.
Loudspeakers had been set up along the course and the music was ubiquitous.
When I realized that I was on the
opposite side of town to the finish, I went back to get the car, loop all the
way around Roth, before finding a spot in a garage lot about half-mile from the
finish. I grabbed my backpack, jogged to the 10k mark, and found myself there
just in time – and almost perfect assessment of Anthony’s pace (around
10.5km/h) as he appeared 5-10mn later (yeh to me!). He seemed in a better
place, sweating like crazy in the heat, and I jogged next to him for a few
yards while he handed over a fistful of food he wasn’t going to eat and asked
me for some gels he had left with (btw, I have to say that Anthony has an
incredible tolerance for gels, scoffing 1 every 20mn for the full duration of
his Vichy Ironman, which means 33 gels!)
I had been texting with his wife who
was back in Zurich, and Anthony kids had been asking for pictures, but so far I
had been unable to provide one. So I found a spot in the middle of town that
doubled as the 20k/32k spot, and read a book until about 10mn before I figured
Anthony would come through – and managed to snap a picture when I saw him
arrive.
He was smiling but mumbled something
about sore legs which I promptly ignored, gave him some rather bland words of
encouragement (are there any other kind? – I know any encouragement is great
when receiving it, but when giving it no words seem right, a bit like when you
give your “condolences” – maybe because even if the runner is looking bad, you
can’t tell them they look like shit, at the very least you tell them to “get
over it” – anyway…).
I then eschewed a pretzel for an ice
cream and settle for another hour’s wait before he passed through at 32km… This
was actually the only real downtime I would have the entire day – and that’s
because I was on a course that loops four times through a town! I knew crew
members are a dedicated bunch, but now I really appreciated how busy it can be
just trying to get from one spot to another. But it certainly wasn’t boring.
And though it did rekindle a faint desire to do another triathlon, I was
certainly happy to be the outsider that day!
Before Anthony came through at 32km –
once again at a rock-solid consistent pace which made my own estimations so
much easier – triathlon legend Chrissie Wellington came sweeping through. She
was doing it as a relay, competing only in the running section. She had a huge
smile on her face and just kept waving to people. That joy and humble pleasure that
she exuded at just being there in the middle of the pack was really inspiring.
A real shame, however, that she couldn’t have been a bit slower, or Anthony a
tad faster, because he came past barely a few minutes after so I didn’t get a picture
of them together!
After that I checked out the finish
area – another massive show of merchandise stands and, of course, the stadium
arrival – before returning to the 40km mark. When Anthony came past he didn’t
even notice me until I was tapping on his shoulder – definite end-of-race
fatigue! He was suffering quite a bit at this point, but perked up a bit when I
told him the finish was real close now and he was making great time, only within
20mn of his Vichy time. He’d been running for a while with another guy and that
had been helping him push through the suffering (which also might explain why
he lost somewhat track of time and distance).
Then it was down a road into the
finish area to wait a few minutes in the stand for unparalleled stadium finish
that I can’t imagine anyone not wanting to experience at least once in their
life.
Good going Anthony! Swim time 1h25,
bike time 6h08 (steep hills!) and run time 3h55, for a finish time with
transitions of 11h37mn – bloody brilliant!
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