The process of preparation for the aluminum event in Italy was close to ideal. Aluminum because let's be honest — after all, the half — is not a classic iron distance, the cycle has just begun. But there are still various ultraman competitions, the mention of which makes my eyes light up suspiciously. In general, there is no ceiling in this case, only the one that we will install ourselves.
And everything would have been 5+ if, during the final bike ride for 130 km from the sports camp on the farm, I myself did not bring myself a terribly bad injury. I didn't imagine at all that you could seriously injure yourself on a bicycle without falling. And the injury occurred when I suddenly remembered in the middle of the way that I mainly put pressure on the pedals and pull a little, and pulled my right leg up. I didn't feel anything special, but upon arrival after a couple of hours it became impossible to bend my leg. Sleeping without a knee pad was not possible — after several awakenings from pain caused by tossing and turning on the bed, it was the only possible way out in combination with painkillers. I did not mention this in the previous report, as it is not ironclad to justify myself. Plus, the leg is not chronic — left, but new =) — right, and I believed to the end that two weeks before the race such a “trifle" should resolve. I also could not quit the final stage of preparation 2 weeks before the start and completely stopped physical activity only a week before the start.
I will not fully describe the strategy for the race, there are a lot of specialized nuances that are not always interesting to a wide range of readers. And, in truth, it will take up too much space. I can only say that I fulfilled the plan completely, I was in very good shape myself, which confirms the last leg at the half marathon with a pace of 4 min/ km and I feel great after the race and the next day.
Swimming. A strategic mistake, which I had not thought about at all before, turned out to be an incorrectly chosen position at the start. Since swimming is my weakest form so far (which I plan to work on seriously over the coming autumn-winter), it just slipped my mind. My brother and I took the leftmost position during the swim, going clockwise, so as not to get into the meat grinder. The meat grinder could not be avoided anyway, but there were too many factors stealing time:
It's good that I swam without a watch, otherwise the result of 50 minutes for 1.9 km, which is 10-13 minutes longer than planned, would spoil my mood for the whole subsequent race. At the exit from the water, I had to get my usual glasses from a volunteer girl, which I had to entrust to her due to the lack of a table promised by the organizers. The girl, of course, was not at the exit, I hope she was at least a little cross that she sent Stevie Wonder to the track. But no, don't worry, it would be too easy. Of course, I didn't give her the sunglasses with diopters that I was counting on on the track, so I calmly ran to the transit point in the swimming pools, took off the hydric and was already at the lead. What was my surprise when I heard my brother's voice from behind — “oh, and you're here!”
Led. On Facebook * in the morning, I still confessed about my problems with my leg and the high probability of a descent. I wanted those who were rooting for me not to be upset at the forced gathering. The track could be conditionally divided into 5 parts: rolling in a straight line of 15 km, three serious mountains of 7 km and a 33-kilometer stretch down to the finish. On the morning of the race day, I, in principle, did not hope to reach the finish line. I wanted to get experience in swimming and that's all. But the tapes and painkillers thought otherwise =). I expected that after overcoming the last mountain I would finish the race and it turned out that way. But, as you know, trouble comes from nowhere and not alone. Having already left the track and started pedaling, I began to feel a strong constant pain in my right buttock. It was unexpected and I even felt for a while that everything was against me, but I managed to warm up and at least mentally banish the pain.
How good everything looked in theory, when the race chief Uwe told the day before the start that you can't throw garbage on the track, overtake on the right, engage in drafting. Even on the ordinary streets of Pescara, there was a feeling that Italians ride bicycles in the same way as they drive cars, leaving their head at home on the bedside table. But at the race, they were really an annoying factor. They could overtake and block, they drove both peloton and just sitting on each other's wheel, throwing garbage and much more. Joe was especially different, his name was not difficult to remember, since I saw his loin most often. He probably thought that he was riding with me in a pair for the last 20 km, overtook me by one kilometer, died, and I had to change course just to keep my normal speed and not crash into him. He did it 10 times for sure. At the same time, he continued to screw in this style even 5 kilometers before the end of the bike segment. For example, it was clear to me what would happen to him on the run. As a result, I managed to run into the transit faster and win 20 minutes on the run.
Of the nuances led due to lack of experience, it was not entirely clear why all Italians are so screwed up the mountain. The fact is that the same group did me uphill as I twisted on the lowest star with almost one foot, but from the mountain they kneaded the clogged legs, apparently =) I did them with a whistle and light feet at 50-60 km per hour. We showed the same result on the track, but then I gathered many of those who were ahead at the half marathon. For the sake of statistics, I will say that when you drive or run, in order to somehow distract and entertain yourself, you count the number of overtaking. So there were about 100 of them on the bike, and about 250 on the run. As a result, I finished the bike in 3:04, which is just fantastic with these mountains and my condition.
Fulfilling the overall strategic plan, I had to restrain myself on the run for the first 5 kilometers, since I knew that there would be a parish later. I was glad that I was more savvy here than on swimming. I got hooked on one guy and ran the first of four 5km laps behind him. On the second lap, I found a new “hare” to replace the exhausted one. After 10, I saw my brother running to a meeting. We gave a “high five” to each other and a lot of positive energy. He had already run the first lap. According to estimates, I was about a minute away from him and, of course, I wanted to run together. We met again after a lap and the distance was reduced by 30 seconds. My last finishing lap has begun. And although I pushed off with my right foot very conditionally, dragging it like a former sambo wrestler, the last thing I wanted was to be at the finish line with the remaining forces. So I pushed =), if you can call it that, of course. At that moment, I was visited by such a rush of emotions that I would do it despite the pain, despite the circumstances, that tears began to come to my eyes. It's probably interesting to see a character on the 16th kilometer overtaking a bunch of people with tears in his eyes. But the sunglasses didn't let the Italian fans into my personal melodrama. Catching up with my brother, I asked him to help me and maintain a decent pace. As a result, we ran 4 kilometers and cheerfully overtook athletes with 4 multi-colored rubber bands on their hands, running also the last lap. This cheered up his brother himself, and by inertia he ran his next last lap much faster than planned. As a result, the half marathon ran out of the 1st hour 45 minutes, and the total time of the distance including transit — 5:50:05.
The transformation of consciousness after the finish took place in a matter of minutes. In the first minutes after the finish spurt, the thought of a full ironman terrified me -180 km on a bike is too much! But already entering the tent with food, one single thought struck the brain, and that in English — “It was fun!” And two minutes later, sitting down on a bench with a tray of food, I knew that this was just the beginning of the journey. September — marathon in Tallinn, May — half ironman in Majorca, August — full ironman in Sweden. But, for sure, something may change =).
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