pro triathlete Jerzy Kasemier

Tenby (Wales, United Kingdom) - At four in the morning the alarm went, starting the regular ritual to get ready for the start at 7AM. Automatic pilot mode ON! Shower, breakfast, coffee, making drinks, off to transit, fixing everything on the bike and transit bags, walking to the swim start, taking some photos, putting on the wetsuit, doing a warm up swim. And then it got bright in the sky. Race day had arrived. So there we were. Roughly 1500 triathletes on the beach. Ten minutes before the start. Trembling to go. Adrenaline speeding through our veins. Heart rate approaching race speed. Ready for the adventure that lay ahead of us.

From the beach we had to swim left towards the first buoy. And among the PRO athletes we were already discussing if it wouldn’t be best to run over the beach to cut the swim to the first buoy short. And then someone started walking… Running… And when one starts running all others follow. There we were running down the beach, 5 minutes before the start. But then, for some reason everybody turned around and we walked back again… Getting ready in line for the start.

Everybody was jumping up and down. Excited for what was going to happen… But I felt some sort of relaxation. No stress, no worries, no adrenaline, no… Were we going to run to the end of the beach again? I was just going to follow the crowd. Or were we going to go for the swim right from the point where we were? It was fine with me. BOOM!!! And I was running down the beach, still wondering what I was going to do? Run or swim. But everybody surrounding me started running… And so was I…

I ran. Thinking about what to do. Enter here? Enter here? Or here? Still running towards the end of the beach… Here? Or here? Still looking at all the others that we passing me, running madly to the end of the beach. To the rocks… Here? Yes! Here! And there I went into the sea… Well, I gave it a try. The waves were hard on me, but I think I did just the right thing. I was just behind the people that ran to the end. And as I heard after the race, they had to swim back to avoid being thrown on the rocks.

My mind had turned numb. Nothing got in, nothing got out. I just moved my arms, with the auto pilot on. Beating the waves, the endless lines of waves coming towards me. The first turn passed without a blink. Auto pilot off. Goggles back on. And auto pilot back on. Hitting the waves head on. Towards where? The waves made it hard to see where to go, but fortunately the auto pilot showed me the way. In between the boat and buoy, towards the second turn and the beach.

‘Catch a wave!’ The waves were rolling onto the beach quiet nicely, but they were too hard to catch. ‘Paddle! Paddle!’ And just before getting to the beach I caught one and I was thrown on the beach. Head first, turning of the auto pilot! While spitting out sand, salt water and perhaps even some crabs or lobsters I ran over the beach to get back in for the second lap. It was just part of the ride. And auto pilot was back on. Normally the second lap feel quicker, better, more relaxed, but this time there was no feeling. Just the relentless pounding of the waves. And before I knew it the beach was reach again… Fortunately this time without biting the beach and eating sand!

From the beach it was near straight up towards the boulevard, 60 (it seemed more!) meter higher. Halfway I grabbed a pair of shoes left behind before the start and cramming my into a little backpack while running towards T1. The shoes were comfortable and I would have loved it to keep them on after the tent in transit, because the asphalt was so rough that running over it was hard. ‘Don’t cry! Get on your bike and it is over before you know it!’

And there I was… On my bike, ready to head out and get those 180km done! But with the little knowledge gained during the reconnaissance ride all hope for a quick bike split were gone! The first few miles (or kilometers as I prefer) it was silent, no one was in front or behind me. Just riding, thinking to take it easy. Keeping an eye on the SRM to keep the power down. It was windy. Even windier than in the North of the Netherlands. And there were hills, endless rows of hills. Up down, up down, left right, up down, right left, down, up, left, up, right, left, down, up, right… Did I ride this course?

It felt as riding in a fairytale. The landscape, the views, the houses, the trees, the sheep, everything looked amazing, but it did not cheer me up for some reason. I just rode. And rode. There was a little smile on my face when I got to the beach and saw one of my fellow athletes almost get blown from the road. I cheered for Edo van der Meer when I passed him near the turn around. There was a struggle with the energy intake, did I miss the first aid station? Putting in a gel with my Powerbar engery drink certainly did not help the stomach. And again, more hills, turns, ups, downs, all taken without blinking, thinking, feeling, seeing, enjoying….

And then I got back to Tenby. Going into the second lap made me smile. The crowd was amazing! The people got mad! Cheered,  screemed as loud as possible! Clapping their hands! It almost made me miss a corner. Which even made me laugh. But then it struck. There was 70km left… The stomach had turned over and that made it hard to get the energy in. But those 70km flew by in a state of numbness… The course was relentless and beating all emotions out of me, just riding the hills and getting those 180km behind me.

Transit was easy, but slow. Putting in the gel as planned and then taking off for the marathon. It felt great to be doing something else. A new start, a new chance to get back some feeling, some smiling, some flow. And for a while I did. The legs were great, or well for as far as the can be great after a 5:45 bike ride. Nonetheless the first stretch up the hill went great! Hammering it, cheering for Edo, getting into a rhythm. Starting to get into the flow of Ironman Austria. And I was catching others! On the way down I was flying! ‘Yeah baby yeah!’

I got my drink at the coach post and got ready for another climb towards the turn just outside Tenby. Still flying! And I finally got warm again. So warm that I needed cooling I thought. Throughing some water over my head. It helped to cool me and the pace still great. Hitting the second turn halfway into lap two. And then the wind caught me! Chilling me to the bone! I got cold, freezing cold. And this within just a couple of minutes. I got goosebumps all over and running became harder and harder. My energy level was down… I was running on vapors of the energy left in me. The pace dropped. It also affected my mind, with which I had trouble dealing with all day. And then I snapped. Giving in. Surrendering. I started walking.

It was freezing cold. There was no joy left in me to race. I was done. Physically and mentally! The battery was empty! Emptied beyond the point where you can still refuel it. It only came down to another 25km to finish. ‘Lets get this over with, no matter what. Get your 10th Ironman medal!’ It was not so much of a struggle. It was just what I had planned, finishing! Those last 25km came down to walking, running, eating some All Sorts and salted cookies, drinking coke, trying to make the best of it. Which was hard, but I made it. After 10:29:19 I finished my 10th Ironman.

This was by far the hardest Ironman I had ever done. By far the toughest Ironman I had ever done. It silently got to me, draining all the energy without me noticing it. It was a relentless day of hills and wind. Ironman Wales proved to be a worthy opponent. The Welsh dragon lives yet another day to be fought again next year! I had only dented it, but nonetheless I made it.