Dieses ist die Übersetzung des Rennberichts, der bereits auf der Homepage des MC Pirate veröffentlicht wurde.
„The biggest limiter is not the body; it's the mind“ (Joe Friel)
„The biggest limiter is not the body; it's the mind“ (Joe Friel)
„Meine Herren, jetzt wird es
pychologisch“ („Das Boot“, D, 1981)
The night before the race. I have a dream. About the race, of course. Lofoten Triathlon Extreme (4km / 196km / 45km). All is well: the swim was cold, very cold, only 14 ° C, but fast. 4,400 m in 1:37 h, excellent time for me. Navigation in the harbor of Svolvær has worked out quite fine, there were no problems at all. Now I ride my bike, enjoying the incredible scenery of Lofoten. The road is steadily leading up and down, like the Hawaiian ´rolling hills´, my ride is smooth and yet powerful. Fortunately, there is only slight wind, just 4 m/s. Up to Leknes, at 80km, I can keep a 30k pace. Ah, if things could be like this tomorrow... But WAIT, something is wrong. I can´t wake up, I should already be on my way to the start…STOP! I'm not dreaming. The night is long gone and has given way to race-morning. And everything, yes, everything is true!
It is true that the swim lead to a new personal record. True, that first transition had not become a clumsy mess like it was at Norseman but despite cold and numb hands done in just about 9 minutes.
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Cheerful after the swim, fan-club hurrying ahead
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Cycling really IS fantastic, everything works out just as it should do. How can this be? My training has hardly reached any reasonable extent, with completely unspectacular contents. All year I have been creeping along at an average speed of some 25k. Only the last weekend prior to the race I managed to keep a pace beyond 27 over 120km. Can this be the reason for something like real self-confidence? Never had that in a race before…
Well, euphoria does not last over all 196km, things have slightly become really exhausting. The wind freshens up and rolling hills turn into real climbs. Anyway, no race in my life has ever offered a scenery like this! My Garmin has counted about 7 hours when I roll back into the transition zone in the heart of Svolvaer. Almost at a 28k pace, one hour ahead of the 10h cut-off.
What happens now would probably be described as a key stage in a professional high-gloss race analysis. To me, it is just the moment of truth. Nothing more and, most of all, nothing less. There is another cut-off, set at the 25km checkpoint, which means that those, who will arrive here later than 12:30h race-time, will not be allowed the road and leads out into the wild, crossing 2 mountains with a plateau in between and, not enough, a second cut-off at 36km. Be there later than 16 hours, which is 22:00h, and you´re out as well.
So, this is what drives me forward. I try to continuously control my pace, constantly calculating possible splits and scenarios. Suddenly, things have become really psychological… Pace has gone up from 6:00 to 7:00 min/km, buffer time starts melting down to a dangerous size. I have no idea, how long I can continue at this pace, so, against all habits, I try to keep myself from walking. And behold,
for the first time in I don´t know how many years, I manage to run all the 25 km. Meanwhile it hurts, but thank God the Norwegian service station supplies, like potato chips, salted nuts and bananas, are quite unusual to me but exactly what I need right now. Finally (well, for now…), I reach the first checkpoint at 12 hours race time, half an hour ahead of the cut-off.
Up to this point, I had been very successful in suppressing any thought about the last section of the course, those 20 kilometers. Two mountains, one of them with a height of almost 600m, the other Tjeldbergtinden, with 367m, between them a plateau and a descent. It turns out to be a right decision, not to care about it, because reality is beyond all imagination. After I picked up my backpack with the required safety equipment, I suddenly find myself in the middle of a trackless jungle, trying to follow a deep muddy track which, I suppose, is meant to be a race course. One endless ascent later, a pathless plateau waits to be traversed. A unique scenic experience, a little disturbing, though, with the second cut-off on one´s back. I have not the slightest idea of what more awaits me out there. A lake, for example, with a steep cliff over which the track winds along, really scaring me. Looks really dangerous after racing for meanwhile over 14 hour. On the other hand, the water is so clean that I can refill my bottles straight from the lake. Going on and on like this, I loose any sense of time and space, my Forerunner´s battery has quit service at 33 km. I rely on my faith that I am going fast enough, just without knowing, where…
To keep it short and simple: yes, it was fast enough. At 21:30h I reach the final checkpoint, again half an hour before cut-off, right in time to be allowed to complete the final 9 km over the Tjeldbergtinden. Although not as high as the first ascent, this part of the track seems not at all any easier to me. It is cold and getting dark. Ascending towards the last summit, I have to turn on my torch. Nevertheless, the orientation remains difficult, the road is narrow and difficult to follow in the cone of light. In the distance, deep below, I can see the lights of Svolvær. Another awesome postcard-view that makes me want to stop and watch. I have to confine myself to taking just a few pictures, so that someone will believe me afterwards…
for the first time in I don´t know how many years, I manage to run all the 25 km. Meanwhile it hurts, but thank God the Norwegian service station supplies, like potato chips, salted nuts and bananas, are quite unusual to me but exactly what I need right now. Finally (well, for now…), I reach the first checkpoint at 12 hours race time, half an hour ahead of the cut-off.
Up to this point, I had been very successful in suppressing any thought about the last section of the course, those 20 kilometers. Two mountains, one of them with a height of almost 600m, the other Tjeldbergtinden, with 367m, between them a plateau and a descent. It turns out to be a right decision, not to care about it, because reality is beyond all imagination. After I picked up my backpack with the required safety equipment, I suddenly find myself in the middle of a trackless jungle, trying to follow a deep muddy track which, I suppose, is meant to be a race course. One endless ascent later, a pathless plateau waits to be traversed. A unique scenic experience, a little disturbing, though, with the second cut-off on one´s back. I have not the slightest idea of what more awaits me out there. A lake, for example, with a steep cliff over which the track winds along, really scaring me. Looks really dangerous after racing for meanwhile over 14 hour. On the other hand, the water is so clean that I can refill my bottles straight from the lake. Going on and on like this, I loose any sense of time and space, my Forerunner´s battery has quit service at 33 km. I rely on my faith that I am going fast enough, just without knowing, where…
To keep it short and simple: yes, it was fast enough. At 21:30h I reach the final checkpoint, again half an hour before cut-off, right in time to be allowed to complete the final 9 km over the Tjeldbergtinden. Although not as high as the first ascent, this part of the track seems not at all any easier to me. It is cold and getting dark. Ascending towards the last summit, I have to turn on my torch. Nevertheless, the orientation remains difficult, the road is narrow and difficult to follow in the cone of light. In the distance, deep below, I can see the lights of Svolvær. Another awesome postcard-view that makes me want to stop and watch. I have to confine myself to taking just a few pictures, so that someone will believe me afterwards…
The last descent turns out to be more adventurous than everything before, pathless, secured with nothing but a rope but I also overcome this las obstacle. In the end, I find myself running through the night, along the road back into Svolvaer, which is beautifully lit with candles along the track. After 17:48 h, at 12 to 12, I cross the finish-line on Svolvaer´s main square, under a typical lofotian fish-rack. I made it to rank 29 of 40, all those behind me had to give up or didn´t make the cut-off. So I am the last finisher, but I am cheered like I had won. Luckily, I wasn´t second last...
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| “It wasn´t easy / but nothing is” (Blur, Song #2) |
Lofoten Triathlon Extreme is now history. To me, it was not only the most beautiful and impressive but also in terms of my own performance the best competition, I have ever done. The scenery is simply indescribably beautiful, the organizing team is enthusiastic, into it with heart and soul and thoroughly likeable. For myself, the race was a lesson in mental stability. Not once did I loose confidence and control, in my opinion of the key to perseverance. I couldn't be more pleased, for the first time I have succeeded in not letting external conditions taking over control at any stage of the race.
In the end, it all eventually had become a dream.
Credits:
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| #lovemyAR1 |
The pictures are made by myself, by Susanne Flöttmann and Volker Strobel. Thanks to Volker for permission to use it!
Race website: www.thearctictriple.no
