World Ironman Championships: beyond my wildest dreams

Every once in while you are blessed with a very special day when history is rewritten, records fall and you surpass your own notions of what is possible to achieve. On 8 October Craig Alexander broke the long standing course record to take his third World Championship win, age group records fell, athletes overcame personal struggles and finishers finally grasped their own personal holy grail. I am so proud to have been part of that historical day.

This blog reiterates, and adds to, the messages I tried my best to convey at the Awards Ceremony. I apologize for my tardiness in putting fingers to keyboard, but there were some serious celebrations to take care of, some luxuriating to be done at the Mauna Lani Bay hotel and some tree trunk like cankles to offload. With the benefit of the passing of time (and sobriety as the affect of the champagne wears off) I have been able to better reflect on what I consider to have been the most exciting, challenging and best race of my career.

Last year I was devastated to succumb to illness and be unable to defend my title. That day Mirinda Carfrae gave everyone a show to remember, especially with her record breaking 2.53 run split, to be crowned world champion. My non-start, however disappointing, instilled in me a hunger like never before. As the saying goes, don’t know what you’ve got until its gone. The fire and desire to regain the world championship title burned all the more brightly.

Coming into a race we all want perfect preparation, minimal disruptions to our routine, great training sessions and no injuries. I am no exception. Up until two weeks prior to the Kona everything was looking rosy – I was on track and determined to give my best ever performance. But this was due to be my 13^th ironman race, and we all know about unlucky number 13. And on 24 September it seemed like lady luck had definitely escaped me. We were on our last long ride in Boulder, approaching a corner that I have taken a million times. I was on the hoods, and then suddenly  – bang! Body hits tarmac. The result: a sizable donation of skin and blood from my left leg, hip and elbow to the Colorado asphalt. In the days that followed the abrasions were the least of worries. I bruised my hip and elbow, damaged my pectoral muscle and contracted a serious infection in my left leg, which became swollen and red and rendered me unable to walk. On the Tuesday Tom and Dave (Scott) had to carry me out of the pool after my failed attempt at swimming. There is a reason I am nicknamed Muppet.

I delayed my flight to Kona, arriving on the Saturday instead of 10 days before. Greeted with open arms, and a lei, by my Kona mum and dad, John and Linda, and struck, as always, but the smell of the flowers, the warmth of the air, and the energy that the island exudes. Hawaii has a very special place in my heart and arriving at the airport never fails to move and excite me.

But the joy was shortlived. I spent race week unable to swim, and as an impatient patient at Kona Hospital. I had ART treatment from the ceaselessly supportive and sanguine, Mike Leahy, as well as my acupuncturist Allison, who had only come out for a holiday, but was put straight to work. The care I received was outstanding – but the disruption and continued discomfort all added to the weight on my shoulders. Of course, I am no hero, and many other athletes have endured – and overcome – far serious illnesses and injuries than I. I am not recounting what happened in the weeks proceeding the race to elicit sympathy, or make excuses, but rather to share the most important lesson that I learnt: to never to let my head or heart drop.

So yes, life threw me curve ball. I could either be crushed by that ball or I could throw it right back and, to follow the advice of a friend, rise like a Phoenix from the ashes of the crash. But would be lying if I said that I wasn’t scared, nervous and apprehensive, and physically suboptimal, coming into the race.

On my race wristband, and on all my water bottles, I write some simple words. One is ‘smile’ and the other ‘never ever give up’. I always say that ironman is 50% physical and 50% mental – all the preparation in the world will not carry you to victory if your mind is not prepared. To plunder the words of Mohammed Ali, “the will must be stronger than the skill”. I was scared of the pain, scared of not being able to do my best and yes, scared of losing. But I had to look fear in the face: conquer my doubts, override my concerns, and attempt to do what I thought was impossible: win the race.

So 8 October dawned. My suboptimal swim left me a lot of work to do. I had been nervous about the pain, I suffered from a lack of power in my right arm, and I didn’t have the speed at the start to fall into the pack that I wouldn’t have wanted to be in. But I had Dave’s wise words ringing in my ear. “Don’t worry if your swim is slow, it’s better to take it steady and be able to complete the race, than to put yourself in a hole you cant get out of”. And so there is was, 1.01 on the clock and a 9min deficit to Julie, and 4mins to Rinny. Suboptimal indeed. I named my bike Phoenix, for obvious reasons, and once aboard I tried to quell any rising panic, keep my head and slowly try to real in those ahead of me, as well as resisting the charges from behind. I managed the former, aside from Julie who was having the ride of her life out in front, and Karen Thurig, who was doing what she does best, dominating the bike and leaving most athletes in her wake. I overtook Rinny on the climb up to Hawi, where I saw my family and friends jumping up and down with huge banners, and behaving in a manner that would have gotten them arrested under normal circumstances. Despite their smiles and funky chicken dancing I knew they were more concerned than I actually was about the deficit that was mounting between myself and Julie. Soon after, I was overtaken by the bullet that was Karen Thurig, and I managed to stay with her for about 10miles, until I had to concede that her pace was over and above my capabilities. I ignored the aches and pains that attacked my body, coming and going, and preventing me from ever really feeling comfortable. I sat up at every aid station and incline to try and open up my hips, and ease the numbness that had developed in my lower back. The sensation when my pee trickled down my leg into my wounds resulted in more than a few swear words. I just made sure that NBC wasn’t there to capture it.

In T2 I slipped into my special War on ALS racers, with the War on ALS laces, I was about 22minutes down on Julie, and 10 from Leanda and Rachel, who were all having fantastic races. I  proceeded to run like I had a firework up my backside. I was determined to make hay while the sun shone, and it was definitely shining with no cloud cover and temps of about 90 degrees plus. Once again I had Dave’s voice in my ears “Focus, focus focus, I know you want to smile and wave, but you need to devote every ounce of energy to your performance”. So yes, there were a few less smiles than normal.

There were many instances when body and mind were screaming in agony. The pain in my right hip was excruciating, my form was poor with my left foot turned out like a duck, and soon after other areas of my body started to feel the affects from my changed gait. Hamstrings, calves, even my shoulders cried out for me to stop. I had that ugly voice on one shoulder suggesting I quit and take the easy route. But I hate the goddamn easy route, and I know that I can never rest until I know I have given it absolutely everything. So I ignored the pain. I ignored the internal whispers. It was the other voice, the louder one on the opposite shoulder, which gave me the will to continue: which enabled me to keep my head, and to plunder the words of Kipling, to force my “…heart and nerve and sinew to serve their turn long after they are gone, and so hold when there is nothing in you except the will which says to them ‘Hold On!”

I let the cheers of the crowd lift propel me forwards. I had the sight of my boyfriend Tom, en route to an amazing 11^th pace, to give me a boost. As I overtook Julie, Rachel, Leanda and finally Caroline, at the entrance to the famous Energy Lab my confidence soared but, unlike the name of the lab, my energy levels were waning. “Just keep your head, keep your head” rung in my ears. “Never ever give up”. I recalled times in training and racing when I have suffered and endured pain, I recalled Jon Blais and others who have shown what it is to be truly courageous, and I thought of my family and friends and my desire not to let them, or myself, down.

Once onto the Queen K Highway for the long run home I felt better, and my strength returned over the next 7km, only to fade again as I climbed the final hill to Palani. I was given all manner of splits  “4mins from Rinny, 5mins from Rinny, Rinny is only 3mins behind!” – I knew couldn’t let up, not even for a second. It was only as I descended Palani and let the momentum carry me down did I truly believe that my body would hold out, and that I would win my fourth World Championship crown. And as I finished the final meters along Ali’i drive, waving and smiling I truly felt overwhelmed by what I had managed to achieve. Like 2007, when I won Kona for the first time, it seemed so surreal (although this time people knew who I was!). I heard the conch shells, the noise of the crowds, the sound of the drums, and the voice of Mike Reilly I was awash with emotion. As I reached the finish tape, hoisted it over my head, and then rolled in memory of Jon Blais, I was overcome with a sense of pride, satisfaction, relief, and unadulterated joy that I had won: that I had defied what I had thought possible.

I left everything out there on the course in Kona. Blood, sweat and tears, and a few bits of skin. I lay my my heart and soul on the line in an attempt to conquer my demons, the course, the brutal conditions, my injuries, my doubts, and all the other amazing athletes and win that race. I have often said that I have wanted to finish an ironman feeling emotionally and physically spent. On that day my wish came true. People sometimes say to me that I make winning ironman races look easy. I hope I showed that I am human. I bleed, I cry, I even curse, but I will dig to the depths to give everything I have to this wonderful sport, to realizing the potential inside myself and be the best I can be. The time was irrelevant, ordinarily I would have wanted to be faster across all three disciplines, but this is not the criteria by which I judge success. Success to me is knowing I have given it everything I can – that I have done the best with what I have. Of all my ironman victories this is the performance  - this is the moment in my life – that I am without a doubt the most proud of.

But I couldn’t have done what I did without my competitors. The women’s field is replete with talent. Their presence, their guts, determination and strength forced me to dig deeper than I have ever dug. I am accustomed to racing from the front. This was different. It was a true race, a hard fought battle. This is what competition is all about. I have the deepest respect for everyone that toes that start line, and my victory is also due in large part to their incredible performances.

Although we athletes race as individuals, we cannot do this alone. I shared the start line with Tom, the love of my life; and I looked up at the pier, and saw these huge banners, held by my family and friends who had travelled millions of miles to support me. And at the different points on the course, there they are jumping up and down as I went past (I did spot a mai tai in their hands on more than one occasion, which may have explained the increasingly vigourous and enthusiastic support!). At the finish they are the arms I fall into, with the thought of my brother and so many others watching on their computer screens never far from my mind.  Of course my family is also made up of my great sponsors, my wonderful manager Ben, my support team and especially my coach, Dave Scott. I know I almost gave him a heart attack two weeks ago, but luckily as six time World Champion his heart is strong enough to withstand all the stress.  My family means the world to me. Without their support I wouldn’t have achieved my dreams, and I credit my victories to them.

But everyone who crossed that finish line is part of the special club: an ironman family. We come from different countries, we span age categories, we have different backgrounds and abilities but we are united by the same goal: to be crowned an ironman. I was there to greet some of them as they crossed the line. It is the age group athletes that never cease to amaze me. Of course, it is not all about the athletes. The ironman family comprises tens of thousands of volunteers the world over. The day after the main awards ceremony they have a volunteers party. 4000 people come – their aloha underpins this race. I was so happy to able to go to this party, and to say a personal ‘mahalo’. And the crowds. I couldn’t believe the how many people lined the streets, especially those dressed in weird and wonderful outfits. Of note were the bananas, who took me back to the fruity marriage proposals I received in 2008. These bananas were female this time, but still extending offers of marriage. Always pleasing. And a special mention has to go to the man in the huge sumo outfit, who ran with me as I came back into town for the last time. It’s incredibly embarrassing when a man in an oversized sumo outfit can run much faster than you. And even worse when it is captured on film!

This interaction, this aloha, this mutual respect, support and encouragement is what being part of the global ironman family is really all about.

When I first tuned professional 4 ½ years ago I said to my then coach “Brett, I feel so selfish, everything I do in this sport is for me and me alone”. His response “Just you wait Chrissie, within a couple of years, through your achievements, you will be able to affect more change than you ever thought possible”. His prophecy has come true. I have said it before, and I will say it again, sport has phenomenal, far-reaching amazing power. It is a vehicle to do great things. For me, winning races is not about the glory, it’s not about the money, it’s not about the times. The key is the manner in which I try and win, the lessons I learn and the message I hope I convey. Kona 2011 offers me a valuable, simple lesson. It teaches me never to stop believing. It should teach you all never to stop believing too. Our limits may not be where we think they are.

I sit here writing this as four-time World Champion. I am so honored to hold that title. It means everything to me. This is so much more than a victory. Being World Champion is a privilege. It is a responsibility that I don’t take lightly. It is a platform – a once in a lifetime opportunity and I will do whatever I can to help represent our amazing ironman family, and be a champion you can all be proud of.

 

 

Majority of photos by Larry Maurer, www.maurerphoto.com 

Tags: blog, Chrissie Wellington
Category Professionals |

War wounds: the fighting spirit

“Its not a race. It’s war”. Those somewhat macabre words were among the first that the amazing, multiple ironman champion, Bella Bayliss ever said to me. Back then, in 2007, I didn’t have so much as a triathlon vest – let alone a bullet proof one. “Once more unto the breach” and welcome to the frontline of professional sport. Indeed.

Don’t get me wrong, I am as fierce a competitor as you will find. Competitive with myself. Competitive with those around me. But the closest I get to actual warfare is calling shotgun to get extra legroom in a car. Top Gun is my idea of studying military strategy. I took up triathlon because I loved it, because of the challenge and because I wanted to see how good (that ever elusive, unattainable ‘good’) I could be. Not once did I equate a triathlon race to armed conflict. That was until i crashed the bike last weekend, and ended up battered, bruised and yes, covered in sore, bleeding ‘war wounds’. Asphalt 1 = Chrissie 0. Long story short. I had a flat front tyre, didn’t realise, took a corner relatively fast, the wheel slipped from under me, skin hit tarmac. Or more accurately my left elbow (taking the epidermis off ones funny bone is decidedly unfunny), my hip (a bit of padding would have been nice – should have eaten more donuts), and all of the skin on my left leg ended up covering the tarmac.  (Unfortunately i also took out Drew Scott, who also suffered the consequences of the crash – for which i am hugely hugely sorry).

Yes, i have some nasty wounds. That day i lost the battle with the bike, lost a whole heap of bodily fluids and a considerable amount of skin, but I didn’t lose my fight.

Look up ‘war’ in the dictionary and you will see ‘competition, rivalry, battle, struggle’ – all evident on sports pitches and race courses the world over. And of course there was the ‘Iron War’ – the epic 1989 battle between Mark Allen and Dave Scott on the Hawaiian lava fields.  But even before the crash last weekend it was a gift from Brett that, for me, really elucidated the parallels.

It came in the form of a small book by a Chinese general named Sun Tzu, written around 403-221 B.C. and entitled “The Art of War’. I had instructions to read this guide to military strategy from cover to cover before my first World Championships in Kona 2007. And now four years later, having battled the tarmac and lost, and with Hawaii fast approaching, I find myself revisiting this book, and using the following advice to help me overcome the discomfort, pain and mental challenge and prepare for one of the biggest races of my life.

1) And therein lies the first of the many lessons. Talent and a desire to succeed are all very well, but victory depends on a willingness to prepare meticulously and effectively, using all the available intelligence. This requires foreknowledge; learning from masters of the art  - including previous champions and their strategies, tactics and methods; goal setting; planning and a long term commitment to ensuring all the many pieces of the jigsaw are in place to enable you to fight the best fight possible.

2) To do this you must be able to know yourself, understand your strengths and weaknesses, establish the goal for which you are fighting and accumulate and utilize the resources at your disposal. Its all very well wanting a Wellington Bomber, but if you can only afford a Ryanair microlight then do the best with what you’ve got. After all, a weapon is useless without a skilled, confident operator.  And likewise use your own energy reserves wisely – through pacing, nutrition and hydration and picking which battles to fight.

3) And that personal plan must be followed with confidence and focus, but with an ability to be flexible and spontaneously adapt to change – especially when that comes in the form of injury. A successful warrior can adjust his/her plan, strategy and tactics in the face of the unexpected, turning any misfortune into gain.

4) Knowing yourself also goes hand in hand with knowing and understanding your enemies.  “If you know the enemy and know yourself, in a hundred battles you will never be defeated… If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.” Chris McCormack is one such King of Stratagem. This two time World Ironman Champion devotes a considerable amount of time to understanding his rivals, their habits, their vulnerabilities, their limitations and their strengths, as well as developing relationships with those who may help further his own cause.

5) But in Kona 2007 ‘knowing thy enemy’ couldn’t have been further from my mind – I knew hardly anyone. So it was another of Sun Tzu’s pearls of wisdom that proved more helpful to me that day. “At first exhibit the shyness of a maiden, until the enemy gives you an opening; afterward emulate the rapidity of a running hare, and it will be too late for the enemy to oppose you.” And that’s exactly what I did, at about 110km on the bike. Then run rabbit run.

6) The essence of Tzu’s teachings, though, is that true success comes from defeating your opponent without a struggle. This alludes to the need to break your opponents will to win without a fight, thereby negating the need for a strength sapping head-to-head battle. The clever competitor imposes his will on the opponent, and he does not allow the opponent’s will to be imposed on him. I remember watching Daley Thompson finishing a Decathlon having crushed his competitors, but making it seem like he had done so without even breaking a sweat. Of course that wasn’t the case, but it was this apparent ease of victory that was the enduring memory in his opponents’ minds, and which gave him additional ammunition next time he toed the line.

7) But the enemy is so much more than your competitors. We are all fighting the course itself – the terrain, the heat, the humidity, freezing water, hellish head winds. The Chinese sage would say, do your research, know your battlefield and plan accordingly.

8 And of course we are also engaged in our own personal war of attrition. Battling the enemy of self doubt, of discomfort, of the little voice telling us to quit, and of the dreaded adversary that is ‘ GI’ (distress) Jane. Although we all suffer disillusionment or motivational slumps, victors have developed a call to arms that can fuel their fire and reignite their passion and courage – whether it be a mantra, a poem or even a picture of a loved one taped to the top tube of their two wheeled bullet. Moreover, these warriors are buoyed by an inner self belief, which immunizes them against what naysayers might utter or do – knowing that the battle cries of others are often like an unloaded gun.

9) Any victory is, of course, hollow without being founded on respect for one’s adversaries, for the environment, for the sport and for all those around you.  The ego must be kept in check, and the true warrior must always remain humble. I have always said that it is not the finish times or the number of wins that I want to be remembered for, it is the manner in which I won them – fighting clean, fighting fair and doing so with a passion and joy that inspires those around me.

10) Finally, Sun Tzu made clear that we do not fight alone. Triathlon is an individual sport, but every athlete needs a small,committed army of advisors and supporters – Tom Cruise’s ‘wing men/women’ to help us achieve our mutual goal. Seek help and advice, learn from others and treasure your comrades, respect them and nurture the relationship and remember that without them you are fighting a losing battle.

Bella was right. We are all waging our own personal wars on the triathlon battleground, with the aim of achieving the inner peace that comes from crossing that hallowed finish line. So, when that canon fires on 8 October over Kailua Bay, despite my bruises, scars and war wounds rest assured I will be ready to fight the best fight possible in my own battle to regain the title of World Ironman Champion.

Tags: blog, Chrissie Wellington
Category Professionals |

Chrissie Wins Fourth Ironman 70.3 Timberman Title

Each year Gilford, New Hampshire hosts the Timberman Festival, a large family event that includes the Timberman Sprint and TimberKids Make-a-Wish Run and the 2011 Ironman 70.3 Timberman. An estimated 3,500 people participated in the combined events. Chrissie Wellington was, of course, the heavy favorite. Wellington has already won here three times, as well wins this year at the 70.3 Kansas and the Ironman South Africa. Any challenge would likely come from 70.3 Florida champ Caitlin Snow. Wellington led the women out of the water. The three time world champion recorded a 27:08 split. Snow was right behind her with a 27:09 split for the 1.2 mile swim. Amber Ferreira was the third woman out of Lake Winnipesaukee with a time of 27:38. As soon as she got on the bike, Wellington started widening her lead. Wellington rode a 2:27:51 for the 56 mile bike ride. Snow was the second woman into T2 after riding a 2:33:57. Ferreira rode a 2:34:04 to finish the stage in third place. Wellington didn’t coast through the 13.1 mile run, recording a 1:18:44 split. Chrissie Wellington won the 2011 Ironman 70.3 Timberman with an overall time of 4:16:33. This made her the eighth finisher overall. Caitlin Snow ran a strong 1:22:52 to take second place with an overall time of 4:26:36. Annie Gervais earned a podium trip by running a 1:28:33 to record an overall 4:34:24.

Tags: Chrissie Wellington
Category Professionals |

Head chopping: the importance of R&R

In January 2007 I went for a trial week with a certain Mr Sutton. Simple question ‘Do I have what it takes to be a professional triathlete?’ His slightly macabre answer being: ‘Physically yes, but I need to cut your head off’. Wishing to avoid decapitation I asked him to elaborate. ‘You don’t know how to relax, you are like a bull at a china shop, living at 100miles an hour. You don’t know how to rest your body and mind. Unless you can learn to do this you will never be a successful athlete’. Headless? He was right. I was that proverbial chicken. Given that ‘rest’ only entered my vocabulary as the beginning of a word ending in ‘aurant’ I nearly reached for the carving knife and performed the decapitation there and then. Yes, I was able to beast myself with the best of them. I could swim/bike/run until I was falling over with exhaustion. But this wasn’t enough. No amount of ticks in the logbook, no amount of ‘eyes popping from head’ sessions, would create a Champion. The puzzle would always be incomplete unless I could develop the all important, as yet missing, piece of the jigsaw: rest and recovery.

I am sure those words are as alien and scary to many of you as they were to me. We are creatures of habit, we love routine, some of us are obsessive compulsive perfectionists, who come out in hives at the thought of an easy session, a nap or, heaven forbid, a rest day. But I cannot say this clearly enough. It is not the swim/bike/run sessions that will make you fitter – it is the recovery – the adaptation and regeneration – from the stress caused by those activities. As Lance Armstrong said “Whoever recovers fastest does best.” And it is not just about physical recovery, its mental recovery/relaxation too. That’s why I say that I train 24/7: recovery IS training my body to be the best that it can be.

But what form should this rest/recovery take? Space is too tight to do justice to all of the different techniques, so I have picked some of the most important.

Easy training/active recovery. The emphasis is on the word easy. If you are not being overtaken by a grandma (apologies to all the OAP triathletes) with a shopper bike then you are not going easy enough. If it goes from being a 90min spin on the bike, to a 2hr ride with a few hills then you have totally changed the nature of the ride – and its purpose. Hard sessions/days should be followed by an easy session. Also important is a cool down after a hard workout. It doesn’t have to be long, but I would suggest that you spend around 10% of your total training time ‘cooling off’ – this can also include targeted, light stretching afterwards.

Rest days. I have about two total rest days a month. This may not sound like a lot, but pros have the luxury that age groupers often don’t. We can rest between sessions, while you are juggling all your balls (not literally). There is no hard and fast rule, but I would suggest incorporating a rest day once every 7-10 days. The key is to listen to your body and its signals, irrespective of your planned training schedule. Spending the afternoon trawling Top Shop for a non lycra bargain, pulling up every weed in your overgrown garden or trying in vain to assemble an Ikea wardrobe do not count as rest. Buttock on sofa is the position to assume. Of course, linked to this is the need for an off season. I have waxed lyrical about this in previous columns. The advice is simple – have one.

To reiterate, it is NOT wasted time. Push aside any (unnecessary and self destructive) feelings of guilt or laziness, and trust that resting makes you better, faster, stronger and more resilient (and also gives you the chance to watch Top Gun for the 100th time).

Sleep: knocking out the zzz’s is something I always hated. ‘I can sleep when I’m dead’ was an oft-uttered mantra of mine. No longer. I love to sleep. We don’t all have this luxury, but I try to get 8-9hours of shut eye a night, and having a routine is key – I go to bed and wake up at the same time each day. Sounds like an oxymoron, but if my sleep is broken it is one of the first signals that I need more, not less, rest. A good bed, quality sheets and a non snoring partner/ear plugs is also recommended.

Nutrition. I covered my daily nutrition in a previous blog, so I will simply reiterate the need for triathletes to eat a healthy, well balanced diet with sufficient calories to sustain your training and lifestyle; to consume high GI carbs before a workout and during workouts of over an hour and then to ensure you refuel with carbs and protein within 30-45minutes of finishing a hard session. This can be a liquid smoothie if necessary, but try to eat a balanced meal as soon as you can.

Compression: until recently people wouldn’t be seen dead wearing tight lycra garments that resembled an Edwardian corset or a dress code at a kinky fetish club. Times have changed. Now myself and athletes the world over are squeezing our muscles into a wide variety of skintight attire without getting arrested. According to claims, these garments increase the velocity of blood flow in and to the muscles, enhance the removal of waste products and also reduce muscle damage. I wear them. They work. Just make sure that you choose a brand, like Compressport, that actually compresses (especially after a few wears and washes), rather than ending up like baggy MC hammer pants. (You could also try leg elevation to enhance the effects. But leave any headstands to those working at said fetish clubs). Also note that, despite being de riguer in the triathlon world, you may wish to hide your compression attire underneath other clothes whilst at work/weddings/job interviews. The general public can still get put off by the sight of middle aged men wearing Robin Hood tights.

Massage. No not the sort you might get at the clubs above (although the ending could be happy), but good quality sports massage. Obviously determined by what you can afford and your access to a good therapist, but I have a regular weekly deep tissue massage, and then a light massage two days before a race. Great not only for loosening muscles, increasing flexibility but also giving you a mental boost and allowing you to switch off for an hour (in between screams of pain as the therapist shoves his/her hands into your knotted hamstrings). A foam roller is a good second best.

Lastly, and most importantly. You have to relax mind as well as body – turning the switch so that you forget all things triathlon. Watch tv, play scrabble, cook a delicious meal, meditate, read a book, pet your pet, go to the movies – anything which gives your mind a break from training, from work and from the stresses of everyday ‘headless chicken’ life.

So, before you head out on your next hard session ask yourself some simple questions. Have my last few workouts been pretty sub optimal? has my sleep been broken? am I moody and irritable? do I feel overly lethargic and tired? has my appetite disappeared? do my legs feel like they have been run over by a truck? If so maybe its time to ‘chop your head off’, rent Top Gun for the 101st time and have a well deserved duvet day. And don’t forget your fetish tights.

(i originally wrote this article for 220triathlon Magazine)

Tags: blog, Chrissie Wellington
Category Professionals |

World’s Ironman Record Set with TorHans Aero 20 Hydration System

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE: July 21, 2011

World’s Ironman Record Set with TorHans Aero 20 Hydration System

International triathlete and 3-time World Champion Chrissie Wellington pilots the new TorHans Aero 20 hydration system to new world’s record.

ROTH, GERMANY, July 13, 2011 – TorHans, LLC debuts their newest and most aerodynamic hydration system, the Aero 20, at Germany’s Challenge Roth. World-renowned triathlete, Chrissie Wellington, mounted the new Aero 20 to her bike and broke the world’s Ironman record with a time of 8:18, eclipsing her previous record set in 2010. “It was superb to give the TorHans Aero 20 bottle its first race, and to make that race a world record breaking one!” says Chrissie Wellington, shortly after her record setting performance. “The bottle is simply superb – practical, sturdy, and incredibly aerodynamic and its great to have this bottle as part of my arsenal!”

Over 3 years in the making, the Aero 20 has perfected the art of front mounted hydration systems by reducing aerodynamic drag and ultimately increasing speed, all while holding 20 ounces of fill-on-the-go hydration fluid. “The new Aero 20 is nearly invisible to the wind,” says Hans Bielat, co-founder and Chief Innovation Officer, for TorHans. Bielat continues, “The Aero 20 produces the least amount of drag of any front mounted hydration system on the market today. That’s why it’s the favored choice for top professionals like Chrissie and others who want to increase their performance and achieve a new personal best.”

Kevin Cox, president and CEO of TorHans, was thrilled by Chrissie’s performance. “It was spectacular to see everything come together for Chrissie. She’s a great competitor and we are excited to have her as part of the TorHans team.” Cox adds, “TorHans is all about designing, developing, and bringing to market the fastest, most aerodynamic hydration solutions for triathletes and time trialists. Both the TorHans Aero 30 and Aero 20, along with the new Aero Tray, represent the best-of-breed in aerodynamic efficiency. The TorHans products are a natural fit for someone like Chrissie and we are looking forward to more great performances from her in the future.”

TorHans products are available at top triathlete shops in the US and throughout the world.

About TorHans:
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Tags: Chrissie Wellington
Category Professionals |

Wellington dominates for a third time

ROTH, Germany (10 July 2011) —World-beating triathlete Chrissie Wellington continued her dominance of the sport with an 8:18:13 win at Challenge Roth today, smashing her own world best time of 8:19:13 that she set here last year. In doing so she finished a remarkable fifth overall, with only four men taking the better of her on the day. “I just did something that I never thought was possible, and that means so much to me, and hopefully to women in sport,” an elated Wellington said at the finish. ”Those close to me will tell you that I didn’t think that the world record could be broken, especially with the bike course being an extra 2km longer.” The ever-smiling Wellington was dominant from start to finish, exiting the water in 49:49, just clear of chasing Kiwi Belinda Harper and more than 90 seconds ahead of prime challenger Rebekah Keat of Australia. She quickly accelerated onto the bike course under clear blue skies, reaching the cheering thousands lining the famous Solarer Berg climb at 70km with a gap of 3:45 over a chase group that included Australians Keat and former Roth champion Belinda Granger. By the time she reached the Solarer Berg for the second time, her gap over the rest of the women had ballooned to nearly eight minutes over the duelling Granger and Keat. And when she traded her bike for running shoes she had more than 12 minutes in hand over the chasers. Behind her, Keat had pulled away from Granger in the last stages of the bike to start the run in second. On the marathon Wellington carried on at a similarly scorching run pace, ticking the kilometres over at sub-4:00 pace for much of the way to produce a 2:44 marathon, a new course record. “I knew I was running faster than last year,” she said. “The aim was not to fade as much as I did last year and I managed to achieve that aim. I didn’t actually know what the time was until I rounded the corner so I really didn’t have a clue. I knew that it was close but my watch had fogged up so I couldn’t see too much.” Keat, meantime, was battling alone for second until German long-course newcomer Julia Wagner, racing to a 3:07 marathon, overtook her in the waning kilometres of the run to seal second. Wagner, second at the half-distance Challenge Kraichgau earlier this year, also brought home the German national championship with her finish. “It’s absolutely incredible what happened today and I think it will take some days until I realize what I’ve done,” Wagner said. “I didn’t expect that I could get Rebecca [on the marathon]. When I saw her coming closer and closer, all the spectators shouted at me and that gave me an extra push.” Keat described her marathon as “42 kilometers of pain” after a bike ride spent pushing the pace, especially on the second lap of the 180km, and said she was pleased to be as close to Wellington as she was at T2. “I left it all on the bike. I had nothing.” And she was gallant at the finish, saying of Wagner: “She’s definitely going to be a force to be reckoned with in the future. It’s a big achievement for her.” New Zealand’s Belinda Harper was fourth in 9:06:47, with Granger, winner here in 2005, fifth in 9:12:56. The tenth edition of Challenge Roth, the world’s largest long-course triathlon, drew a record field of 5,250 athletes (3,300 individual starters and 640 teams) to tackle the 3.8km swim, 180km bike ride and 42km marathon run. The top ten men and women will divide a prize purse of 73,500 euro, with 15,000 euro going to the individual male and female winners. For more, visit www.challenge-family.com. The Challenge Family features 13 races across three continents, including Challenge Roth, Challenge Wanaka (New Zealand), Challenge Fuerteventura and Challenge Barcelona (Spain), Challenge Kraichgau (Germany), Challenge Cairns (Australia), Challenge Copenhagen and Challenge Aarhus (Denmark), Challenge Vichy (France), Challenge Walchsee (Austria), Challenge Henley-on-Thames (UK) and Challenge Cape Town (South Africa). To learn more about the series, visit www.challenge-family.com RESULTS Challenge Roth (3.8km/180km/42.2km) 10 July 2011; Roth, Germany 1) Chrissie Wellington (GBR) 8:18:13 (49:49/4:40:39/2:44:35) 2) Julia Wagner (GER) 8:56:23 (51:28/4:54:27/3:07:25) 3) Rebekah Keat (AUS) 8:59:22 (51:27/4:51:05/3:13:51) 4) Belinda Harper (NZL) 9:06:47 (50:00/4:55:48/3:17:43) 5) Belinda Granger (AUS) 9:12:56 (51:34/4:50:38/3:26:57)

Tags: Australia, Austria, Barcelona, Belinda Granger, Belinda Harper, big achievement, bike course, bike ride, blue skies, cape town, Challenge Aarhus, Challenge Barcelona, Challenge Cairns, Challenge Cape Town, Challenge Copenhagen, Challenge Family, Challenge Fuerteventura, Challenge Henley-on-Thames, Challenge Kraichgau, Challenge Roth, Challenge Vichy, Challenge Walchsee, Challenge Wanaka, challenger rebekah keat, chase group, cheering thousands, Chrissie Wellington, Copenhagen, Denmark, elated wellington, EUR, ever-smiling wellington, extra push, france, German national championship, Germany, half-distance challenge kraichgau, Hospitality Recreation, Julia Wagner, Kiwi Belinda Harper, Kraichgau, largest long-course triathlon, Marathon, marathon run, marathon wellington, new course record, New Zealand, newcomer julia wagner, prize purse, Rebekah Keat, Road Running, ROTH, roth champion belinda, run pace, Solarer Berg, Solarer Berg climb, South Africa, Spain, Sports, triathlete chrissie wellington, triathlon, United Kingdom, visit www.challenge-family.com, Wagner, waning kilometres, Wellington, world best time, www.challenge-family.com
Category Professionals |

Challenge Roth: once in a lifetime moments

Last years Challenge Roth was one of the most special days of my life, and one that I have replayed in my mind over and over again. I didn’t need to be asked twice to return for my third time, and on the 10th Anniversary, of this amazing race.

I arrived in Roth on the Sunday afternoon, and settled in with my wonderful homestay family, Gunter and Doris Mollinger, and Einstein the dachshund. Which didn’t actually dash anywhere. He ate and slept. A bit like me really.

As with previous years, I was presented with an amazing Audi Q5 from Feser Joachim (www.autohaus-joachim.de) to drive around in. Driving in the loosest sense of the term, given that I am not known for my ability to handle a motorised vehicle without any bumper meets bumper action. Still, it was a definite step up from the 1986 tank that we trundle around Boulder in. The brakes and accelerator pedals both worked. A revelation.

The few days before the race were busy with drug testing – every pro athlete is drug tested (blood) before the race; the pro brief; the press conference and, of course, the social highlight that is the Erdinger Party – where I once again donned a dirndl. The fact that I was unable to breathe in this chest squeezing, cleavage creating corset was a definite limiting factor when it came to cutting some shapes on the dance floor with Belinda Granger and a lederhosen loving Andreas Raelert.

Of course, I was incredibly excited to be racing Challenge Roth, but I also felt the weight of expectation laying heavy on my shoulders. Of course, no one expects more out of me than I do, but added to this inner personal competitiveness and desire for self improvement, was the question (and in some cases the assumption) that I would once again break the world ironman distance record – lowering it from the 8.19 I had set last year. If I had a euro for every time I was asked ‘can you break the world record?’ during race week I would be a very rich girl!

My reply, as always, was “I want to try and win the race, to enjoy it and to cross the line in the fastest time possible”. The question I was asking myself was ‘will this pressure crush me, or will I be able to withstand it, race my own race and be satisfied with having given it everything, regardless of finishing time? I knew I was fitter, especially on the run, but to have an even more perfect a day than last year would be a tall order. But I guess on Sunday I ordered tall. ☺

So, race day dawned at 3.50, enough time for breakfast, a cup of the strong stuff, a read of Rudyard Kipling’s ‘If, a rub of the lucky rock that my friend Billi bought me back from the summit of Mt Everest and then it was off to the start, about 1hr20 before kick off at 6.30am.

The swim started like a Friday night pub brawl, fists, legs, arms, and other body parts were flying everywhere. Legs were grabbed and enough punches were thrown to be worthy of a heavyweight boxing title. Luckily I had sharpened my elbows and managed to give as good as I got, but that’s not to say it wasn’t disconcerting. Such fisticuffs mean that it is near impossible to settle into a rhythm in the first 200m. I just focused on keeping calm and not breathing every stroke so as to limit the chance of my goggles being separated from my shiny bright yellow swimcap, and tried to swim as hard as I could to get into a fast pack. My strategy seemed to work, and I found myself with what I knew was a group of strong swimmers, and after Round One, the boxing gloves were removed and we were all able to find a comfortable rhythm that saw me exit the water as first female, in 49minutes, around 30secs faster than last year.

I hopped onto the Slice, and set about trying to conquer the 180km, two lap course that winds its way through beautiful countryside, towns, villages, forest, farmland and of course takes in the amazing, amazing Solarerberg Hill. No superlatives can do this experience justice, you have to be there to truly experience the exhilaration, excitement, energy and passion of the thousands and thousands of people that line this hill, 5 or 6 deep in places, creating a funnel only a metre wide, just enough to fit a bike through. And at the crest of the hill, as always, were my family and friends, waving banners and body parts in equal measure. It never fails to give me a huge huge boost, not to mention a healthy dose of goose bumps and a couple of perforated eardrums.

I finished the ride feeling strong, and came into T2 with 4hr40 on the clock. Whipping on the T7 Racers, and pulling the Greepers ‘live it: love it’ logoed lace (try saying that after a few non alcohol frei biers!) toggle. And living and loving it I was. That’s not to say the marathon wasn’t without its physical lows. Parts of my body intermittently reminding me that I was cranking out sub 4min/kms and that they weren’t exactly happy about this fact. But I followed my coach’s instructions, focused on relaxing my arms, my hands, my shoulders – all the areas where tension usually builds. And when I felt the blood run down my ankle from the timing chip strap laceration I simply focused on something altogether more pleasant. Like the men up ahead.

I was popping a gel every 25mins, but the spectators were clearly not following the same nutritional strategy. I am not sure how many carbs are in an oversized currywurst, but I am sure it is rather more than the 1g of carbs per kilo of body weight per hour strategy that I try to follow. I have to say, tempting runners with the overpowering smell of bbq’ed animal parts, and industrial sixed vesicles of amber nectar was somewhat cruel – I was almost tempted to stop and sample these culinary delights, had it not been for my inability to simultaneously consume sausage whilst cracking out said min/km pace.

I went through the 21km point in 1.21 which was about a minute quicker than last year – and, although I faded slightly in the second part of the marathon, it wasn’t by nearly as much as the previous year – something that Dave and I have been working hard to address. I couldn’t believe the amount of support along the course, especially in the final few kms through the centre of this amazing town where any ear drums I had left were totally destroyed by the deafening roars of support.

I didn’t have the total race time on my watch, and although I knew I was running around 2.45 marathon pace I didn’t know my swim or transition times and so didn’t actually know whether I was over/under WR pace. It was only in the last km that someone yelled, you are on for 8.18 did I get an indication of my predicted finish time. By then I was digging as deep as I could, eeking every ounce of energy that I could from my tired legs. I actually almost felt like I was disconnected from my own body – numb to the discomfort and fatigue in my attempt to defy what I had thought was near impossible.

As I entered the finishing arena, the huge crowds carried me the final 200m, and only as I turned the last corner did I see the time, 8.18. The final few meters passed in a blur as I crossed the line, rolled in memory of Jon Blais and then lay prone, weeping into the red carpet. The pictures describe better than I ever could how I felt at that moment.

For a great set of pictures, see the amazing work of the super talented photographer, Rebecca Marshall at

http://rebecca-marshall.photoshelter.com/gallery/Chrissie-Wellington-at-Challenge-Roth-2011/G0000At0tbBAuacQ

Every once in a while sport delivers up a very special day, and I am so proud to have joined Andy Raelert, in creating another little piece of triathlon history, and to do so on the 10th Anniversary of Challenge Roth makes it even more special.

This is what I devote my life to – putting my heart and soul on the line to test my limits. But, to be honest, I still cant quite believe what I achieved – I defied what I thought was possible, and that is a wonderful feeling. That’s not to say there isn’t rom for improvement, there is – across all three disciplines. But this result nevertheless teaches me never to stop believing. It should teach you all never to stop believing too. Our limits may not be where we think they are. I hope that these performances open up people’s eyes and imaginations to new horizons and new goals.

Before the race I watched the Challenge10th Anniversary video – the text includes words like passion, emotion, support, encouragement, friendship and of course, family. It is the last of these that, to me, is the most important of all. We race as individuals, but we cannot compete alone. As I stood by the river before the start I looked up at the bridge and saw these huge banners, held by my mum and dad, my cousins, my boyfriend and my friends who came from the UK to support me. And throughout the race there they were, jumping up and down as I went past. And at the finish line, they are the people whose arms I fall into. Without the support of my family I wouldn’t be able to do what I do. They are the reason I am able to achieve my dreams, and I credit all my victories to them.

And more widely Felix and his family wanted to create a company that was like a global family, and he has achieved just that. From the community who welcome all the athletes year after year; the sponsors who lend unwavering support to the race; the spectators who wave flags, banners, and consume vast quantities of beer and sausages; the wonderful finish line party where we all link hands to welcome the last athletes home; to my homestay hosts – the Mollingers who opened their door to me and showed me the culinary delight that is Weiswurst (www.more-touristik.de), to Fritz Buchstaller who provides his expertise year after year to the athletes and their two wheels; and of course the volunteer party held to thank the 5000 people whose kindness, generosity, passion and energy shine for all to see.

For the third year, this race has given me something I never thought would be possible. The near perfect day, and the feeling of being part of a truly global family. And for that I am so truly grateful.

Tags: blog, Chrissie Wellington
Category Professionals |

Ironman South Africa: Biltong, Braais, Beach Boys and Breaking Records.

I first visited South Africa in 1999, as a fresh-faced university graduate dressed in flip flops and dubious coloured beach shorts, embarking on a two year global traveling adventure. Sport comprised dancing all night at music concerts and exercising my drinking arm by sampling all the local grape derived beverages. I travelled for a month with a Brazilian (girl, not the beauty treatment) called Aline, an Australian named Luanne, and a South African called Jude. With her unbridled passion for the natural world, it was Jude that changed my outlook on life, encouraged me to be introspective, identify my own individual passions and aspirations, and have the confidence to pursue those dreams. And that, I realised, was in international development. Consequently I reneged on my decision to be a lawyer and decided to undertake a Masters to empower myself with the knowledge needed to follow the path I had chosen.

And, so it was that I came back to South Africa in 2002 as a suit-wearing member of the UK Government Delegation to the UN World Summit on Sustainable Development in Johannesburg. Time was spent juggling Ministerial demands, eating a few canapés, and spending long nights pouring over the minutiae in a 1000 page international agreement. Not a braai or a piece of biltong in sight.

And in February this year I returned to South Africa for a third time, as a lycra-clad professional athlete, complete with dubious tan lines and oversized calves and carrying my new Cannondale Slice. I named that new bike Jude.

I based myself in the beautiful town of Stellenbosch, 30minutes from Cape Town – staying in the most amazing self catering flat in the Vilaroux apartment complex (www.vilaroux.co.za). The owners, Suzette and Francios, and their staff went out of their way to help me, and I want to thank them once more for their unwavering support and encouragement.

Stellenbosch is surrounded by vineyards (a heavy dose of willpower was required not to frequent them) and beautiful mountains. The buildings are whitewashed, the streets lined with oak trees, cafes and open air restaurants. It doesnt get any better. Truly.

I am firmly of the belief that when in Rome…..so my culinary exploits included a weekly dose of lean, mean ostrich steak, several kilograms of biltong (a cured raw meat delicacy, which can be like chewing on a piece of old rubber, but is surprisingly addictive if you don’t mind getting lock jaw), and gallons of rooibos tea. Of course I also smothered everything in Mrs Balls. ‘Hot and Spicy’ being my favourite type of Ball.  Lekker!

The ‘when in Rome’ philosophy did not extend to haircuts. The distinctive mullet, which has long been relegated to the haircut graveyard in the UK, seems to be worn with huge pride in Stellie – particularly by the numerous rugby players. Given that they all resemble large tanks I was not about to make any derogatory comments about their choice of follicular style – lest I found myself at the bottom of a rather large scrum.

I digress. For me, having had the chance to spend time in South Africa, and develop a real love for the country and its people, undoubtedly made racing Ironman South Africa so much more meaningful and special.

I flew from Cape Town to Port Elizabeth the Tuesday before the race. With street names like Cardiff Road, Brighton Avenue, and even Skegness Street it was home from home. Without the rain. The IMSA team had kindly arranged a great self catering apartment (www.loftwoodcottage.co.za) for me, in the grounds of a family home. Like my adopted family in Stellenbosch, the Mutlows went out of their way to help. The word hospitality doesnt even come close. And once, again, I really cant thank them enough for everything they did to enable me my dreams on race day. PE has been nicknamed the ‘Friendly City’ and it more than lived up to this title.

I had a few days training and before I knew it race day was dawning  – bright and clear, and hot, but fortunately not that windy. There are not many races in the world that you can stand on a clear white beach, watching the sun rise over the ocean, and see a pod of dolphins playing in the waves. Truly an amazing sight. I stood there, closed my eyes, internalised the image and used its energy to power me through the day. And, of course, it will be there for me to draw on in the months and years ahead.

The water wasn’t as nippy as I had feared, but I was still thankful to have my second neoprene skin in the form of the TYR Hurricane. The swim went well, and aside from a couple of rugby scrum (minus the mullet) punches to the nose I escaped relatively unscathed, and during the short run on the beach between the two laps I got a sense for my position, and knew that I had found myself in the pack I had wanted. The waves were decidedly more wavy on the second lap, and I am sure the dolphins are slightly frustrated by the fact that half their ocean has disappeared down my throat.

Onto Jude, I tried to settle into my rhythm but I have to say that I didn’t actually feel the mojo until the second half of the bike. The course was a 3 lap affair, taking in some of the town, and then heading out – and up – along a beautiful undulating road to the turnaround, retracing our steps for 10km or so we then headed east along the coastal road, the clear blue ocean stretching to the horizon, the waves crashing onto the shore, the sea birds soaring overhead, and vegetation that gave off an aroma decidedly similar to a skunk. Not altogether pleasant. But then, after 180km of cycling I didn’t smell that good either.

The road surface ranged from smooth as a baby’s bottom to almost off road. We also had a few speed bumps to contend with, and  – despite my pre race efforts to ensure the security of my rear Cytomax bottle – when bike hit bump I was helpless to stop said vesicle being launched 100m into the air and into a skunk bush. Luckily I had put a spare in Special Needs (top tip – always put a spare bottle in your special needs bag, even if you wouldn’t ordinarily need it). However, given my bike handling sills this was a recipe for complete catastrophe – given my inability to simultaneously control the bike one handedly, open a tightly tied bag, extract bottle, place bottle into XLAB and oh yes, at some point applying my breaks. David Blaine would have had a hard job pulling off that particular magic trick. Luckily I managed to escape unscathed, and I was able to embark on the final two laps.

Fortunately the Slice is a cut above the rest in terms of its vibration-limiting technology. Granted there are times when vibrations can be somewhat pleasurable (but that is an entirely different story and doesn’t involve the Beach Boys), but an ironman is not one of them – the more vibrations on the bike, the greater the toll on your body and the harder it is to run well afterwards. Luckily my machine comes with SAVE technology, which means that the lumps and bumps don’t resonate through the frame, and yes – saves my legs from the not-so-good Beach Boy vibrations.

I came into T2 after 4hr45 minutes not knowing what the split times were to the girls behind me. As I donned the ‘Chrissie’ Brooks T7s I was actually relishing the thought of running my first marathon of 2011 – slightly masochistic given that the thermometer was hovering around 30 degrees, and it was beginning to feel like racing in a sauna. Initially I actually felt quite lightheaded, and had a small stich in my right side, but having experienced this before I knew to stay calm, focus, breathe rhythmically and have the confidence that the feelings would abate. And they did.

The run was a 3 loop ‘lollipop’ type affair, with the stick of the pop being an up and down along Marine Drive, and the lolly a little loop around the university. The contrast between the two was amazing. The crowds on Marine Drive were huge, noisy and so incredibly uplifting. They had been lined up, 5 or 6 deep, since the crack (of dawn), cheering, shouting, eating, drinking and creating the most amazing tunnel of energy (not to mention the delicious aroma – not of skunky foliage – but from the traditional SA braai). I do remember one man who shouted to me ‘Chrissie you are so sexy!’ – which was a welcome boost, but given that I had a bright red face, dribble hanging off my chin and unsightly tan lines I think he may need to take a trip to Spec Savers.

It wasn’t until about 3km from the end that I realised I could break the World Record. Giving my lack of talent for anything numerical, I just about managed to calculate that I had15minutes in which to run those last km’s. I tried to summon as much energy as I could, whilst simultaneously soaking up the atmosphere and the scenes around me, smiling and waving to show my gratitude to all the crowds and my fellow athletes, who used some of their precious energy cheering me on, and powering me onto a 2.52 marathon.

The finish chute at IMSA truly is one of the best in the world. I ran down the red carpet, a new World Ironman Record of 8.33 on the clock, a rainbow of confetti raining down, a beaming smile on my face, and finished with a victorious Blazeman roll (www.waronals.com) over the line – overcome with a huge sense of pride, satisfaction, exhilaration and joy.  And a deep craving for the biggest, greasiest burger that PE had to offer.

As I have said before, my goal is for self-improvement, to do justice to my hard work (and the support of the amazing team of people who surround me) and to continue to challenge my own limits.  I never expected to break the World Record at Ironman South Africa, and in doing so I have challenged my own preconceptions about what is possible. I don’t find it easy. I endure highs and lows just like any other athlete, there are times when my body is screaming, when I don’t know if I can finish, and when I question why on earth I am actually putting myself through this torture. But that’s where the mind takes over, and I draw strength and confidence from people who inspire me.

I am so happy to have been able to give something back to a country I have grown to love, and hopefully inspire existing and future athletes to reach that little bit higher.

I would like to finish off with words of thanks. First of all Keith, Paul, Wendy and the rest of the IMSA/Triangle team for inviting me to this race, and putting on such an amazing event. And to all the race sponsors (especially Spec Savers, who should definitely sponsor the aforementioned spectator).  Of course, a huge congrats to my fellow Brit and close friend Rachel Joyce (whom I met over 12 years ago at University when our triathlon comprised drink-dance-pass out), to Diana, and of course to Raynard, Andy and James, who all smashed the course record  - with Raynard smashing it just that little bit more. And then there are the 1500 age group athletes, whose strength, determination and passion shines through for all to see. You are the true stars of the show.

Finally, a huge thank you to the PE community  – especially ‘The Mutlows’, to Triangle Sports Shop (www.trianglesports.co.za), for going that extra mile and of course, to Tri247 for capturing the moments at http://www.tri247.com/article_8419.html – and the thousands of volunteers who give up their precious time to help and who’s enthusiasm, energy and selflessness help make the race such a success.

So, after a few days in sunny Stellenbosch, I have flown home to be with my family and friends, celebrate, rest, recover and taper for the next Big Event – The Wedding. No not the much hyped Royal One, but the much more important marriage of my brother Matthew to his wonderful girlfriend Kelly. Its time for me to shed the lycra, attempt to rid myself of unsightly tan lines, and don a posh frock for what will be the most incredibly special day.  April 2011 is going to be a month that we will remember for a lifetime.

The big question is – can these ‘cows’ cope with funky chicken dancing in a pair of stilettos!?

Tags: 2010 FIFA World Cup, Africa, amazing sight, Andy, athlete, australian named luanne, Beach Boy vibrations, beach boys, beautiful undulating road, bike handling sills, biltong, blog, bright red face, bumps, cape town, champion power lifter, Chrissie Wellington, clear blue ocean, clear white beach, David Blaine, dubious coloured beach, dubious tan lines, Energy, Extinction, fresh-faced university graduate, friend rachel joyce, funky chicken dancing, global traveling adventure, grape derived beverages, Hospitality Recreation, http://www.tri247.com/article 8419.html, Ironman South Africa, James, Johannesburg, Kelly, lawyer, little bit, lycra-clad professional athlete, Marine Drive, Matthew, mean ostrich steak, new bike jude, new cannondale slice, numerous rugby players, onto, open air restaurants, page international agreement, particular magic trick, Port Elizabeth, pre race efforts, precious energy, professional athletes, rachel joyce, raw meat delicacy, Raynard, rear cytomax bottle, Rome, rubber, rugby, SAVE technology, South Africa, spec savers, special needs, special needs bag, Stellenbosch, Stellenbosch pool, tan lines, traditional sa braai, Triangle Sports Shop, triathlon, UK Government Delegation, UN World Summit, United Kingdom, United Nations, University of Stellenbosch, vibration-limiting technology, victorious blazeman roll, Wine tasting descriptors, World Ironman Record, World record, www.loftwoodcottage.co.za, www.trianglesports.co.za, www.vilaroux.co.za, www.waronals.com
Category Professionals |

Ironman South Africa: Biltong, Braais, Beach Boys and Breaking Records.

I first visited South Africa in 1999, as a fresh-faced university graduate dressed in flip flops and dubious coloured beach shorts, embarking on a two year global traveling adventure. Sport comprised dancing all night at music concerts and exercising my drinking arm by sampling all the local grape derived beverages. I travelled for a month with a Brazilian (girl, not the beauty treatment) called Aline, an Australian named Luanne, and a South African called Jude. With her unbridled passion for the natural world, it was Jude that changed my outlook on life, encouraged me to be introspective, identify my own individual passions and aspirations, and have the confidence to pursue those dreams. And that, I realised, was in international development. Consequently I reneged on my decision to be a lawyer and decided to undertake a Masters to empower myself with the knowledge needed to follow the path I had chosen.

And, so it was that I came back to South Africa in 2002 as a suit-wearing member of the UK Government Delegation to the UN World Summit on Sustainable Development in Johannesburg. Time was spent juggling Ministerial demands, eating a few canapés, and spending long nights pouring over the minutiae in a 1000 page international agreement. Not a braai or a piece of biltong in sight.

And in February this year I returned to South Africa for a third time, as a lycra-clad professional athlete, complete with dubious tan lines and oversized calves and carrying my new Cannondale Slice. I named that new bike Jude.

I based myself in the beautiful town of Stellenbosch, 30minutes from Cape Town – staying in the most amazing self catering flat in the Vilaroux apartment complex (www.vilaroux.co.za). The owners, Suzette and Francios, and their staff went out of their way to help me, and I want to thank them once more for their unwavering support and encouragement.

Stellenbosch is surrounded by vineyards (a heavy dose of willpower was required not to frequent them) and beautiful mountains. The buildings are whitewashed, the streets lined with oak trees, cafes and open air restaurants. It doesnt get any better. Truly.

I am firmly of the belief that when in Rome…..so my culinary exploits included a weekly dose of lean, mean ostrich steak, several kilograms of biltong (a cured raw meat delicacy, which can be like chewing on a piece of old rubber, but is surprisingly addictive if you don’t mind getting lock jaw), and gallons of rooibos tea. Of course I also smothered everything in Mrs Balls. ‘Hot and Spicy’ being my favourite type of Ball.  Lekker!

The ‘when in Rome’ philosophy did not extend to haircuts. The distinctive mullet, which has long been relegated to the haircut graveyard in the UK, seems to be worn with huge pride in Stellie – particularly by the numerous rugby players. Given that they all resemble large tanks I was not about to make any derogatory comments about their choice of follicular style – lest I found myself at the bottom of a rather large scrum.

I digress. For me, having had the chance to spend time in South Africa, and develop a real love for the country and its people, undoubtedly made racing Ironman South Africa so much more meaningful and special.

I flew from Cape Town to Port Elizabeth the Tuesday before the race. With street names like Cardiff Road, Brighton Avenue, and even Skegness Street it was home from home. Without the rain. The IMSA team had kindly arranged a great self catering apartment (www.loftwoodcottage.co.za) for me, in the grounds of a family home. Like my adopted family in Stellenbosch, the Mutlows went out of their way to help. The word hospitality doesnt even come close. And once, again, I really cant thank them enough for everything they did to enable me my dreams on race day. PE has been nicknamed the ‘Friendly City’ and it more than lived up to this title.

I had a few days training and before I knew it race day was dawning  – bright and clear, and hot, but fortunately not that windy. There are not many races in the world that you can stand on a clear white beach, watching the sun rise over the ocean, and see a pod of dolphins playing in the waves. Truly an amazing sight. I stood there, closed my eyes, internalised the image and used its energy to power me through the day. And, of course, it will be there for me to draw on in the months and years ahead.

The water wasn’t as nippy as I had feared, but I was still thankful to have my second neoprene skin in the form of the TYR Hurricane. The swim went well, and aside from a couple of rugby scrum (minus the mullet) punches to the nose I escaped relatively unscathed, and during the short run on the beach between the two laps I got a sense for my position, and knew that I had found myself in the pack I had wanted. The waves were decidedly more wavy on the second lap, and I am sure the dolphins are slightly frustrated by the fact that half their ocean has disappeared down my throat.

Onto Jude, I tried to settle into my rhythm but I have to say that I didn’t actually feel the mojo until the second half of the bike. The course was a 3 lap affair, taking in some of the town, and then heading out – and up – along a beautiful undulating road to the turnaround, retracing our steps for 10km or so we then headed east along the coastal road, the clear blue ocean stretching to the horizon, the waves crashing onto the shore, the sea birds soaring overhead, and vegetation that gave off an aroma decidedly similar to a skunk. Not altogether pleasant. But then, after 180km of cycling I didn’t smell that good either.

The road surface ranged from smooth as a baby’s bottom to almost off road. We also had a few speed bumps to contend with, and  – despite my pre race efforts to ensure the security of my rear Cytomax bottle – when bike hit bump I was helpless to stop said vesicle being launched 100m into the air and into a skunk bush. Luckily I had put a spare in Special Needs (top tip – always put a spare bottle in your special needs bag, even if you wouldn’t ordinarily need it). However, given my bike handling sills this was a recipe for complete catastrophe – given my inability to simultaneously control the bike one handedly, open a tightly tied bag, extract bottle, place bottle into XLAB and oh yes, at some point applying my breaks. David Blaine would have had a hard job pulling off that particular magic trick. Luckily I managed to escape unscathed, and I was able to embark on the final two laps.

Fortunately the Slice is a cut above the rest in terms of its vibration-limiting technology. Granted there are times when vibrations can be somewhat pleasurable (but that is an entirely different story and doesn’t involve the Beach Boys), but an ironman is not one of them – the more vibrations on the bike, the greater the toll on your body and the harder it is to run well afterwards. Luckily my machine comes with SAVE technology, which means that the lumps and bumps don’t resonate through the frame, and yes – saves my legs from the not-so-good Beach Boy vibrations.

I came into T2 after 4hr45 minutes not knowing what the split times were to the girls behind me. As I donned the ‘Chrissie’ Brooks T7s I was actually relishing the thought of running my first marathon of 2011 – slightly masochistic given that the thermometer was hovering around 30 degrees, and it was beginning to feel like racing in a sauna. Initially I actually felt quite lightheaded, and had a small stich in my right side, but having experienced this before I knew to stay calm, focus, breathe rhythmically and have the confidence that the feelings would abate. And they did.

The run was a 3 loop ‘lollipop’ type affair, with the stick of the pop being an up and down along Marine Drive, and the lolly a little loop around the university. The contrast between the two was amazing. The crowds on Marine Drive were huge, noisy and so incredibly uplifting. They had been lined up, 5 or 6 deep, since the crack (of dawn), cheering, shouting, eating, drinking and creating the most amazing tunnel of energy (not to mention the delicious aroma – not of skunky foliage – but from the traditional SA braai). I do remember one man who shouted to me ‘Chrissie you are so sexy!’ – which was a welcome boost, but given that I had a bright red face, dribble hanging off my chin and unsightly tan lines I think he may need to take a trip to Spec Savers.

It wasn’t until about 3km from the end that I realised I could break the World Record. Giving my lack of talent for anything numerical, I just about managed to calculate that I had15minutes in which to run those last km’s. I tried to summon as much energy as I could, whilst simultaneously soaking up the atmosphere and the scenes around me, smiling and waving to show my gratitude to all the crowds and my fellow athletes, who used some of their precious energy cheering me on, and powering me onto a 2.52 marathon.

The finish chute at IMSA truly is one of the best in the world. I ran down the red carpet, a new World Ironman Record of 8.33 on the clock, a rainbow of confetti raining down, a beaming smile on my face, and finished with a victorious Blazeman roll (www.waronals.com) over the line – overcome with a huge sense of pride, satisfaction, exhilaration and joy.  And a deep craving for the biggest, greasiest burger that PE had to offer.

As I have said before, my goal is for self-improvement, to do justice to my hard work (and the support of the amazing team of people who surround me) and to continue to challenge my own limits.  I never expected to break the World Record at Ironman South Africa, and in doing so I have challenged my own preconceptions about what is possible. I don’t find it easy. I endure highs and lows just like any other athlete, there are times when my body is screaming, when I don’t know if I can finish, and when I question why on earth I am actually putting myself through this torture. But that’s where the mind takes over, and I draw strength and confidence from people who inspire me.

I am so happy to have been able to give something back to a country I have grown to love, and hopefully inspire existing and future athletes to reach that little bit higher.

I would like to finish off with words of thanks. First of all Keith, Paul, Wendy and the rest of the IMSA/Triangle team for inviting me to this race, and putting on such an amazing event. And to all the race sponsors (especially Spec Savers, who should definitely sponsor the aforementioned spectator).  Of course, a huge congrats to my fellow Brit and close friend Rachel Joyce (whom I met over 12 years ago at University when our triathlon comprised drink-dance-pass out), to Diana, and of course to Raynard, Andy and James, who all smashed the course record  - with Raynard smashing it just that little bit more. And then there are the 1500 age group athletes, whose strength, determination and passion shines through for all to see. You are the true stars of the show.

Finally, a huge thank you to the PE community  – especially ‘The Mutlows’, to Triangle Sports Shop (www.trianglesports.co.za), for going that extra mile and of course, to Tri247 for capturing the moments at http://www.tri247.com/article_8419.html – and the thousands of volunteers who give up their precious time to help and who’s enthusiasm, energy and selflessness help make the race such a success.

So, after a few days in sunny Stellenbosch, I have flown home to be with my family and friends, celebrate, rest, recover and taper for the next Big Event – The Wedding. No not the much hyped Royal One, but the much more important marriage of my brother Matthew to his wonderful girlfriend Kelly. Its time for me to shed the lycra, attempt to rid myself of unsightly tan lines, and don a posh frock for what will be the most incredibly special day.  April 2011 is going to be a month that we will remember for a lifetime.

The big question is – can these ‘cows’ cope with funky chicken dancing in a pair of stilettos!?

Tags: 2010 FIFA World Cup, Africa, amazing sight, Andy, athlete, australian named luanne, Beach Boy vibrations, beach boys, beautiful undulating road, bike handling sills, biltong, blog, bright red face, bumps, cape town, champion power lifter, Chrissie Wellington, clear blue ocean, clear white beach, David Blaine, dubious coloured beach, dubious tan lines, Energy, Extinction, fresh-faced university graduate, friend rachel joyce, funky chicken dancing, global traveling adventure, grape derived beverages, Hospitality Recreation, http://www.tri247.com/article 8419.html, Ironman South Africa, James, Johannesburg, Kelly, lawyer, little bit, lycra-clad professional athlete, Marine Drive, Matthew, mean ostrich steak, new bike jude, new cannondale slice, numerous rugby players, onto, open air restaurants, page international agreement, particular magic trick, Port Elizabeth, pre race efforts, precious energy, professional athletes, rachel joyce, raw meat delicacy, Raynard, rear cytomax bottle, Rome, rubber, rugby, SAVE technology, South Africa, spec savers, special needs, special needs bag, Stellenbosch, Stellenbosch pool, tan lines, traditional sa braai, Triangle Sports Shop, triathlon, UK Government Delegation, UN World Summit, United Kingdom, United Nations, University of Stellenbosch, vibration-limiting technology, victorious blazeman roll, Wine tasting descriptors, World Ironman Record, World record, www.loftwoodcottage.co.za, www.trianglesports.co.za, www.vilaroux.co.za, www.waronals.com
Category Professionals |

Ironman South Africa: Biltong, Braais, Beach Boys and Breaking Records.

I first visited South Africa in 1999, as a fresh-faced university graduate dressed in flip flops and dubious coloured beach shorts, embarking on a two year global traveling adventure. Sport comprised dancing all night at music concerts and exercising my drinking arm by sampling all the local grape derived beverages. I travelled for a month with a Brazilian (girl, not the beauty treatment) called Aline, an Australian named Luanne, and a South African called Jude. With her unbridled passion for the natural world, it was Jude that changed my outlook on life, encouraged me to be introspective, identify my own individual passions and aspirations, and have the confidence to pursue those dreams. And that, I realised, was in international development. Consequently I reneged on my decision to be a lawyer and decided to undertake a Masters to empower myself with the knowledge needed to follow the path I had chosen.

And, so it was that I came back to South Africa in 2002 as a suit-wearing member of the UK Government Delegation to the UN World Summit on Sustainable Development in Johannesburg. Time was spent juggling Ministerial demands, eating a few canapés, and spending long nights pouring over the minutiae in a 1000 page international agreement. Not a braai or a piece of biltong in sight.

And in February this year I returned to South Africa for a third time, as a lycra-clad professional athlete, complete with dubious tan lines and oversized calves and carrying my new Cannondale Slice. I named that new bike Jude.

I based myself in the beautiful town of Stellenbosch, 30minutes from Cape Town – staying in the most amazing self catering flat in the Vilaroux apartment complex (www.vilaroux.co.za). The owners, Suzette and Francios, and their staff went out of their way to help me, and I want to thank them once more for their unwavering support and encouragement.

Stellenbosch is surrounded by vineyards (a heavy dose of willpower was required not to frequent them) and beautiful mountains. The buildings are whitewashed, the streets lined with oak trees, cafes and open air restaurants. It doesnt get any better. Truly.

I am firmly of the belief that when in Rome…..so my culinary exploits included a weekly dose of lean, mean ostrich steak, several kilograms of biltong (a cured raw meat delicacy, which can be like chewing on a piece of old rubber, but is surprisingly addictive if you don’t mind getting lock jaw), and gallons of rooibos tea. Of course I also smothered everything in Mrs Balls. ‘Hot and Spicy’ being my favourite type of Ball.  Lekker!

The ‘when in Rome’ philosophy did not extend to haircuts. The distinctive mullet, which has long been relegated to the haircut graveyard in the UK, seems to be worn with huge pride in Stellie – particularly by the numerous rugby players. Given that they all resemble large tanks I was not about to make any derogatory comments about their choice of follicular style – lest I found myself at the bottom of a rather large scrum.

I digress. For me, having had the chance to spend time in South Africa, and develop a real love for the country and its people, undoubtedly made racing Ironman South Africa so much more meaningful and special.

I flew from Cape Town to Port Elizabeth the Tuesday before the race. With street names like Cardiff Road, Brighton Avenue, and even Skegness Street it was home from home. Without the rain. The IMSA team had kindly arranged a great self catering apartment (www.loftwoodcottage.co.za) for me, in the grounds of a family home. Like my adopted family in Stellenbosch, the Mutlows went out of their way to help. The word hospitality doesnt even come close. And once, again, I really cant thank them enough for everything they did to enable me my dreams on race day. PE has been nicknamed the ‘Friendly City’ and it more than lived up to this title.

I had a few days training and before I knew it race day was dawning  – bright and clear, and hot, but fortunately not that windy. There are not many races in the world that you can stand on a clear white beach, watching the sun rise over the ocean, and see a pod of dolphins playing in the waves. Truly an amazing sight. I stood there, closed my eyes, internalised the image and used its energy to power me through the day. And, of course, it will be there for me to draw on in the months and years ahead.

The water wasn’t as nippy as I had feared, but I was still thankful to have my second neoprene skin in the form of the TYR Hurricane. The swim went well, and aside from a couple of rugby scrum (minus the mullet) punches to the nose I escaped relatively unscathed, and during the short run on the beach between the two laps I got a sense for my position, and knew that I had found myself in the pack I had wanted. The waves were decidedly more wavy on the second lap, and I am sure the dolphins are slightly frustrated by the fact that half their ocean has disappeared down my throat.

Onto Jude, I tried to settle into my rhythm but I have to say that I didn’t actually feel the mojo until the second half of the bike. The course was a 3 lap affair, taking in some of the town, and then heading out – and up – along a beautiful undulating road to the turnaround, retracing our steps for 10km or so we then headed east along the coastal road, the clear blue ocean stretching to the horizon, the waves crashing onto the shore, the sea birds soaring overhead, and vegetation that gave off an aroma decidedly similar to a skunk. Not altogether pleasant. But then, after 180km of cycling I didn’t smell that good either.

The road surface ranged from smooth as a baby’s bottom to almost off road. We also had a few speed bumps to contend with, and  – despite my pre race efforts to ensure the security of my rear Cytomax bottle – when bike hit bump I was helpless to stop said vesicle being launched 100m into the air and into a skunk bush. Luckily I had put a spare in Special Needs (top tip – always put a spare bottle in your special needs bag, even if you wouldn’t ordinarily need it). However, given my bike handling sills this was a recipe for complete catastrophe – given my inability to simultaneously control the bike one handedly, open a tightly tied bag, extract bottle, place bottle into XLAB and oh yes, at some point applying my breaks. David Blaine would have had a hard job pulling off that particular magic trick. Luckily I managed to escape unscathed, and I was able to embark on the final two laps.

Fortunately the Slice is a cut above the rest in terms of its vibration-limiting technology. Granted there are times when vibrations can be somewhat pleasurable (but that is an entirely different story and doesn’t involve the Beach Boys), but an ironman is not one of them – the more vibrations on the bike, the greater the toll on your body and the harder it is to run well afterwards. Luckily my machine comes with SAVE technology, which means that the lumps and bumps don’t resonate through the frame, and yes – saves my legs from the not-so-good Beach Boy vibrations.

I came into T2 after 4hr45 minutes not knowing what the split times were to the girls behind me. As I donned the ‘Chrissie’ Brooks T7s I was actually relishing the thought of running my first marathon of 2011 – slightly masochistic given that the thermometer was hovering around 30 degrees, and it was beginning to feel like racing in a sauna. Initially I actually felt quite lightheaded, and had a small stich in my right side, but having experienced this before I knew to stay calm, focus, breathe rhythmically and have the confidence that the feelings would abate. And they did.

The run was a 3 loop ‘lollipop’ type affair, with the stick of the pop being an up and down along Marine Drive, and the lolly a little loop around the university. The contrast between the two was amazing. The crowds on Marine Drive were huge, noisy and so incredibly uplifting. They had been lined up, 5 or 6 deep, since the crack (of dawn), cheering, shouting, eating, drinking and creating the most amazing tunnel of energy (not to mention the delicious aroma – not of skunky foliage – but from the traditional SA braai). I do remember one man who shouted to me ‘Chrissie you are so sexy!’ – which was a welcome boost, but given that I had a bright red face, dribble hanging off my chin and unsightly tan lines I think he may need to take a trip to Spec Savers.

It wasn’t until about 3km from the end that I realised I could break the World Record. Giving my lack of talent for anything numerical, I just about managed to calculate that I had15minutes in which to run those last km’s. I tried to summon as much energy as I could, whilst simultaneously soaking up the atmosphere and the scenes around me, smiling and waving to show my gratitude to all the crowds and my fellow athletes, who used some of their precious energy cheering me on, and powering me onto a 2.52 marathon.

The finish chute at IMSA truly is one of the best in the world. I ran down the red carpet, a new World Ironman Record of 8.33 on the clock, a rainbow of confetti raining down, a beaming smile on my face, and finished with a victorious Blazeman roll (www.waronals.com) over the line – overcome with a huge sense of pride, satisfaction, exhilaration and joy.  And a deep craving for the biggest, greasiest burger that PE had to offer.

As I have said before, my goal is for self-improvement, to do justice to my hard work (and the support of the amazing team of people who surround me) and to continue to challenge my own limits.  I never expected to break the World Record at Ironman South Africa, and in doing so I have challenged my own preconceptions about what is possible. I don’t find it easy. I endure highs and lows just like any other athlete, there are times when my body is screaming, when I don’t know if I can finish, and when I question why on earth I am actually putting myself through this torture. But that’s where the mind takes over, and I draw strength and confidence from people who inspire me.

I am so happy to have been able to give something back to a country I have grown to love, and hopefully inspire existing and future athletes to reach that little bit higher.

I would like to finish off with words of thanks. First of all Keith, Paul, Wendy and the rest of the IMSA/Triangle team for inviting me to this race, and putting on such an amazing event. And to all the race sponsors (especially Spec Savers, who should definitely sponsor the aforementioned spectator).  Of course, a huge congrats to my fellow Brit and close friend Rachel Joyce (whom I met over 12 years ago at University when our triathlon comprised drink-dance-pass out), to Diana, and of course to Raynard, Andy and James, who all smashed the course record  - with Raynard smashing it just that little bit more. And then there are the 1500 age group athletes, whose strength, determination and passion shines through for all to see. You are the true stars of the show.

Finally, a huge thank you to the PE community  – especially ‘The Mutlows’, to Triangle Sports Shop (www.trianglesports.co.za), for going that extra mile and of course, to Tri247 for capturing the moments at http://www.tri247.com/article_8419.html – and the thousands of volunteers who give up their precious time to help and who’s enthusiasm, energy and selflessness help make the race such a success.

So, after a few days in sunny Stellenbosch, I have flown home to be with my family and friends, celebrate, rest, recover and taper for the next Big Event – The Wedding. No not the much hyped Royal One, but the much more important marriage of my brother Matthew to his wonderful girlfriend Kelly. Its time for me to shed the lycra, attempt to rid myself of unsightly tan lines, and don a posh frock for what will be the most incredibly special day.  April 2011 is going to be a month that we will remember for a lifetime.

The big question is – can these ‘cows’ cope with funky chicken dancing in a pair of stilettos!?

Tags: 2010 FIFA World Cup, Africa, amazing sight, Andy, athlete, australian named luanne, Beach Boy vibrations, beach boys, beautiful undulating road, bike handling sills, biltong, blog, bright red face, bumps, cape town, champion power lifter, Chrissie Wellington, clear blue ocean, clear white beach, David Blaine, dubious coloured beach, dubious tan lines, Energy, Extinction, fresh-faced university graduate, friend rachel joyce, funky chicken dancing, global traveling adventure, grape derived beverages, Hospitality Recreation, http://www.tri247.com/article 8419.html, Ironman South Africa, James, Johannesburg, Kelly, lawyer, little bit, lycra-clad professional athlete, Marine Drive, Matthew, mean ostrich steak, new bike jude, new cannondale slice, numerous rugby players, onto, open air restaurants, page international agreement, particular magic trick, Port Elizabeth, pre race efforts, precious energy, professional athletes, rachel joyce, raw meat delicacy, Raynard, rear cytomax bottle, Rome, rubber, rugby, SAVE technology, South Africa, spec savers, special needs, special needs bag, Stellenbosch, Stellenbosch pool, tan lines, traditional sa braai, Triangle Sports Shop, triathlon, UK Government Delegation, UN World Summit, United Kingdom, United Nations, University of Stellenbosch, vibration-limiting technology, victorious blazeman roll, Wine tasting descriptors, World Ironman Record, World record, www.loftwoodcottage.co.za, www.trianglesports.co.za, www.vilaroux.co.za, www.waronals.com
Category Professionals |