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“It’s not the size of the dog in a fight, it’s the size of the fight in a dog” (from the movie Girlfight)

Pre race

It’s my third assault to the Klagenfurt finish line and take a week of holiday for the race, and the town still overwhelm me. It’s beautiful, sweet with such friendly people.
This time Marcella and I found a hotel in the surroundings but near the lake, so it was more relaxing than ever. On Thursday we met Anik, François, Mike on dinner, and met also new friends from everywhere... It’s my favourite way to approach a race: to know competitors and their stories make me easier to enjoy the hard parts while competing. It’s sharing life, not just miles, don’t you think?

On Friday, I have my 15 minutes of glory. The race director asked me if I can help and tell the brief in Italian. Sure, I say. It was AGES since the last time I spoke in public, and felt rusty at the beginning, but everything goes ok. Marcella hide herself behind a magazine, while our friends tell her “Ask him something silly, let’s see his face!” Believe me, tell a brief before an Ironman put you in touch with the different level of tension of the athletes: yours is just one in a million.

On Saturday I carry bike and bags and feel so calm I almost get worried! Forecast say sun and hot, with little chance of shower in the afternoon. I feel ready, and it’s a nice sensation. I go for a good finish, in health, and if everything will go ok I can make 12:30.

The race

Swim, or: the way to Pukin Point

Wake up at 4:50, go down for breakfast and everyone seem happy. Sky look clear, Marcella happy and smiling. Take my wetsuit, my MTB and head to the Worthersee, the lake where the swim is held. Check bags, bike, put vaseline in my bike shorts and I’m on the beach for my first swim start with 1500 people. I’m scared! Try to spot the best place to start (far behind and with no possibly violent swimmer around) and wait. BANG! The noise we all make cover the annoying helicopter sound! It takes me a while to swim properly, and since the very first stroke I realize that I’m going to take and give punches. A true washing machine, no matter your good intention! Near the first buoy I finally ease my stroke, just after a feet in the face - luckily not on my goggles or nose... Buoys are near, visible, I’m glad to notice that wearing prescripton goggles has been an excellent idea!

Second buoy, 800 meters under my belt and feeling strong. We all turn left for the third buoy and I’m too correctly in direction... This means lots of people swimming me over at the last moment, but no major bruises. After the third buoy we must head to the beach we started from, and run 100 meters on the beach. I’m still ok, PP (Puking Point) seem so far! When near the shore I repeat my scheduled mantra: it’s not finished, don’t take your wetsuit off...it’s not finished, don’t... For slow, bad swimmer like me I think that walk was a relief, but I heard lots of people not being able to regain their pace after it. Anyway, I go for the second part just a little tired, parallel to the shore until the LendKanal and then to the transition area. It’s a matter of maybe 300 meters and start to feel tired - I never swam longer than 2300 meters in training, so it’s normal, but pace is ok - power of intervals!

Puking Point? Not yet, but I feel like it’s preparing its show. Two years ago it came out right at this point, and this give me good energy. Buoy seem getting more far every stroke, I’m tired, but I reach tha canal in good conditions. Have a look behind me: gee! Tons of people! Increase my pace, but this accelerate the coming of PP, probably: in less than two minute I feel awful, stop, puke and feel better. It happens at K 3.4, more or less: Puking Point, you’re almost out of my swim leg!!!

Hit the beach one minute under my previous my record, 1:23:25 and feel good, not dizzy or dead tired like last years. Under the tend it’s a true mess! Change myself, put some sun screen and go. Marcella is happy not to see me so white in the face like the years before and tell me she loves me. I think it will be hard to be more happy than this, that day, but feel like I want to try, and in worst cases use this happyness as spared energy. Gonna need it...

Bike, or: look mama, no aerobars!

It’s already too hot, and it’s just 8:30 in the morning. The first 20 K go smoothly, along the lake. I drink, wait to eat to permit my stomach to settle after puking, allow my heart rate to get at its ease. I’m almost alone on the course. Turnaround point with tons of people cheering. Such a gas! Reach the Rupertiberg with a group of athletes more or less going my way: we’re not drafting and look all confident. The hill start: my pace came out to be the fastest, and when I reach half the uphill I’ve passed everyone. Heart rate is down, but people is cheering Tour de France style: they let you pass at the last moment, screaming like crazy, pushing you with sweet caresses... stay calm Mauro, just smile to them, keep your pace... After one single second my butt rise from the saddle and the crowd seem to explode - and my head too. I’m almost in tears from the happyness of being there! Then, the downhill: fast and sure. The first lap of 60 has gone, go with the second, after passing the finish line area with another Tour de France atmosphere. Cutting it short, I’m near Velden, after about 80 k when faster athletes start to double me. Huge, irregular groups. During an easy uphill before the Rupertiberg the leading woman, Wendy Ingraham, pass me fast, and behind her there are no less than 7-8 man sucking her wheel. I let them pass, stop pedaling, when probably the last give a scream, probably hearing the motorbike of a marshall coming, who knows. Fact is that his ride became, er, unelegant, and gets too near me. We touch, I’m down. Aerobars destroyed, saddle turned, front wheel a little bented, and its tire out of the rim for 10 cm, iso solution on the pavement, left side of my body hurting. He scream “OK?” I answer “ok” intending I’m alive, nothing else. Body seem ok, start to fix my bike, and it takes me a lot. Other groups pass, lots ask if help is needed, but I’m in a sort of limbo. From there I sort out when i realize I can go on, maybe not pushing too fast on downhills ‘cause the front wheel dance left-right too much.

Now come the worst part, friends. After few spins I realize that bruises I have will hurt later, after the race (and that will be, thanks God), but my left collar bone area start to be stiff and painful, like when I broke my left collarbone doing a downhill in ‘93.
I’m freezed. What to do, now? Immediately came to my mind the fact that in ‘93 luckily I destroyed the front wheel, so wasn’t able to continue like I felt to do. And now? Bike can go on. I feel like going, but my shoulder? Tried to listen to my body, but doubt reigned until I reached the Rupertiberg for the second time. Then, someone decided (probably the Mauro taking big decision in life) to use the uphill as check. If it hurts more, stop at the station and ask for a doctor. No need to argue, health is more important than a race.
Pace was good, pain passed. I was happy, but feeling mentally drained!

Downhill was less bad than expected: braking wasn’t difficult, so I finished the second lap screaming to friends why I was angry. It helped a little. Beginning the third lap was cool, because there were few people left on the bike course. This ease probably lead me to a lack of focus: started to feel demotivated, and my form was going away. It was really hard for a while to stay in good position on the bike and push the pedals regularly, but it passed when I reached the Rupertiberg for the third time. I was tired, but was gaining moral again. The sun was giving its best, anyway, pushing my heart rate way too high. Just to prevent a too long out-of-threshold, I pushed the bike for maybe 200 meters, during the last part of the uphill. In this third lap people out there with me were really suffering, most of them because they pushed too much during the first two laps. Craig, Chris, Jenny, Naoko, Wolfram...
We shared more than a hammering sun, outthere!

Last downhill allowed a good recover, and did some decent speed in the last, flat part. Ended the bike in 7:31, half an hour more than my worse expectation but hey, even 8 hours were welcome, after this odyssey!

Run, or: exploring the Place

Forgot to say that I suffered also some killer pain at my feet, during the last lap of the bike leg - a recent addition to my bike “technical baggage”. This lead to a ridicolously slow transition to the run course. Simply, I wasn’t able to enter my running shoes. After I did it, it took me almost two k to have a proper running form. But then I went, and feeling ok. It lasted maybe half an hour: after this time my mind wanted absolutely to quit. Mental preparation, where are you? I’m here, mate, hold on - but this voice was so far from me... I stopped only four times to evacuate, establishing a new record (the other was TWELVE) but it was terribly hard not to stop even if my legs were able to continue. My mind was more tired than my legs, and with this feeling I completed the first half of the marathon. A real suffering. My choice not to have clocks was felt like good in a moment and terrible in another one... Legs were ok, thanks God, but I almost decided to retire soon after they gave me the second bracelet, so I shouldn’t have had any problem to have a massage, like a finisher, and this lead me almost to tears... Luckily, Marcella met me.

“How are you?”
“Awful. I’m retiring”
“No! I mean, do what you feel, think about it...” Too late. That “no” was coming from deep. From a land we two only have access. A place where we store our love, and share our lives, even our work made together for this race. So a simple “no” was enough to get back there, and notice in a different way my legs still going, my heart rate not so bad, my bruise still silent under the pain aspect.
Then, I closed this place and refocused quite easy on the race. Ok: whassup now? 21 k to go. But they’re easy, because I can catch lot of people (I was already doing it, but not giving any importance!), and the more I’m near the finish line the more I’ll be strong and positive. Forget that accident. Time to run.
And so it went.

Passing behind the finish line, I noticed the race time, the first time since I started. It said 12 hours and change. This could mean a finish of 14 hours and much more than few minutes after it, but didn’t care. I was still going.
Out of the finish line area, a kid started running by my side. We chatted a little. His name was Michael, he was from Klagenfurt, about 12 years old, did the Ironkid race the Friday before and wanted to become an Ironman, one day. He ran with me several K, until was getting dark. He was so sweet. After a while he spitted when I spitted, taking the same thing I was taking from the aid stations, looking tired when I walked, just like me. I asked him tons of time to go back, his mom was surely waiting for him... Then I convinced him saying “if you go back to the finish line and meet me right before my finish, you can finish with me, right?” He was enlightened. He thanked me a lot and got back (so fast that made me hurt...;)

That sentence was for me, you already got it. It sent me back in that place me and Marcella share. And it made me think even about my friend Sandro, who spent lots of time to train wife and mother in law to pass him his son Jacopo before the finish line. He did, and it must have been great. I didn’t meet Michael, then, maybe it’s destiny I will finish with the son or daughter I’ll have one day!

There’s no much more to say: I was able to run the second half marathon 6 minutes faster than the first (easy if you do a 5:31 marathon, anyway;) and maybe one k before the finish line I met Marcella again.

“Feeling good?”
“Great, darling, go to see me finish!”
She started to run with me, and it was so sweet to see her from the course going through the Ironman City and reach that hell of loud music, flames and smoke that was waiting for me, for my finish.
It was dark, and 300 meters from the finish line there were a part with no lights, behind the video wall. I didn’t notice a little curve and met the net supposed to give the direction to runners. I fell down heavily, beating the left side again. This time there were blood over my bruises. The soldiers there helped me to get on the course again, and I don’t remember to have touched the ground from there to the finish line. I flyed to the last curve, where no less than 400 people were screaming like crazy my name and their joy to see another finisher.

I jumped on the finish line and remembered the world I can do an Ironman, but I can be more than this, because to an Ironman race I don’t have anything to ask.
I have just joy to share and life to celebrate.

Hope this story will be able to share my joy with you all. I received a lot from this race, and I’m looking forward to put it back in circle again, after a personal use that will make it even bigger - that’s natural. The first sporty occasion will be the Venice Marathon, next October, where I’ll be a pacemaker.

So, if you decide to break four hours with me, then, be sure - I won’t fall ;)

hugs!

IronMauro


	IronMauro	Diario TeamPage Forum Concorsi Foto Musica Vedove Storie Ricette
	Ironman Austria 2001, by IronMauro “It’s not the size of the dog in a fight, it’s the size of the fight in a dog” (from the movie Girlfight) Pre race It’s my third assault to the Klagenfurt finish line and take a week of holiday for the race, and the town still overwhelm me. It’s beautiful, sweet with such friendly people. This time Marcella and I found a hotel in the surroundings but near the lake, so it was more relaxing than ever. On Thursday we met Anik, François, Mike on dinner, and met also new friends from everywhere... It’s my favourite way to approach a race: to know competitors and their stories make me easier to enjoy the hard parts while competing. It’s sharing life, not just miles, don’t you think? On Friday, I have my 15 minutes of glory. The race director asked me if I can help and tell the brief in Italian. Sure, I say. It was AGES since the last time I spoke in public, and felt rusty at the beginning, but everything goes ok. Marcella hide herself behind a magazine, while our friends tell her “Ask him something silly, let’s see his face!” Believe me, tell a brief before an Ironman put you in touch with the different level of tension of the athletes: yours is just one in a million. On Saturday I carry bike and bags and feel so calm I almost get worried! Forecast say sun and hot, with little chance of shower in the afternoon. I feel ready, and it’s a nice sensation. I go for a good finish, in health, and if everything will go ok I can make 12:30. The race Swim, or: the way to Pukin Point Wake up at 4:50, go down for breakfast and everyone seem happy. Sky look clear, Marcella happy and smiling. Take my wetsuit, my MTB and head to the Worthersee, the lake where the swim is held. Check bags, bike, put vaseline in my bike shorts and I’m on the beach for my first swim start with 1500 people. I’m scared! Try to spot the best place to start (far behind and with no possibly violent swimmer around) and wait. BANG! The noise we all make cover the annoying helicopter sound! It takes me a while to swim properly, and since the very first stroke I realize that I’m going to take and give punches. A true washing machine, no matter your good intention! Near the first buoy I finally ease my stroke, just after a feet in the face - luckily not on my goggles or nose... Buoys are near, visible, I’m glad to notice that wearing prescripton goggles has been an excellent idea! Second buoy, 800 meters under my belt and feeling strong. We all turn left for the third buoy and I’m too correctly in direction... This means lots of people swimming me over at the last moment, but no major bruises. After the third buoy we must head to the beach we started from, and run 100 meters on the beach. I’m still ok, PP (Puking Point) seem so far! When near the shore I repeat my scheduled mantra: it’s not finished, don’t take your wetsuit off...it’s not finished, don’t... For slow, bad swimmer like me I think that walk was a relief, but I heard lots of people not being able to regain their pace after it. Anyway, I go for the second part just a little tired, parallel to the shore until the LendKanal and then to the transition area. It’s a matter of maybe 300 meters and start to feel tired - I never swam longer than 2300 meters in training, so it’s normal, but pace is ok - power of intervals! Puking Point? Not yet, but I feel like it’s preparing its show. Two years ago it came out right at this point, and this give me good energy. Buoy seem getting more far every stroke, I’m tired, but I reach tha canal in good conditions. Have a look behind me: gee! Tons of people! Increase my pace, but this accelerate the coming of PP, probably: in less than two minute I feel awful, stop, puke and feel better. It happens at K 3.4, more or less: Puking Point, you’re almost out of my swim leg!!! Hit the beach one minute under my previous my record, 1:23:25 and feel good, not dizzy or dead tired like last years. Under the tend it’s a true mess! Change myself, put some sun screen and go. Marcella is happy not to see me so white in the face like the years before and tell me she loves me. I think it will be hard to be more happy than this, that day, but feel like I want to try, and in worst cases use this happyness as spared energy. Gonna need it... Bike, or: look mama, no aerobars! It’s already too hot, and it’s just 8:30 in the morning. The first 20 K go smoothly, along the lake. I drink, wait to eat to permit my stomach to settle after puking, allow my heart rate to get at its ease. I’m almost alone on the course. Turnaround point with tons of people cheering. Such a gas! Reach the Rupertiberg with a group of athletes more or less going my way: we’re not drafting and look all confident. The hill start: my pace came out to be the fastest, and when I reach half the uphill I’ve passed everyone. Heart rate is down, but people is cheering Tour de France style: they let you pass at the last moment, screaming like crazy, pushing you with sweet caresses... stay calm Mauro, just smile to them, keep your pace... After one single second my butt rise from the saddle and the crowd seem to explode - and my head too. I’m almost in tears from the happyness of being there! Then, the downhill: fast and sure. The first lap of 60 has gone, go with the second, after passing the finish line area with another Tour de France atmosphere. Cutting it short, I’m near Velden, after about 80 k when faster athletes start to double me. Huge, irregular groups. During an easy uphill before the Rupertiberg the leading woman, Wendy Ingraham, pass me fast, and behind her there are no less than 7-8 man sucking her wheel. I let them pass, stop pedaling, when probably the last give a scream, probably hearing the motorbike of a marshall coming, who knows. Fact is that his ride became, er, unelegant, and gets too near me. We touch, I’m down. Aerobars destroyed, saddle turned, front wheel a little bented, and its tire out of the rim for 10 cm, iso solution on the pavement, left side of my body hurting. He scream “OK?” I answer “ok” intending I’m alive, nothing else. Body seem ok, start to fix my bike, and it takes me a lot. Other groups pass, lots ask if help is needed, but I’m in a sort of limbo. From there I sort out when i realize I can go on, maybe not pushing too fast on downhills ‘cause the front wheel dance left-right too much. Now come the worst part, friends. After few spins I realize that bruises I have will hurt later, after the race (and that will be, thanks God), but my left collar bone area start to be stiff and painful, like when I broke my left collarbone doing a downhill in ‘93. I’m freezed. What to do, now? Immediately came to my mind the fact that in ‘93 luckily I destroyed the front wheel, so wasn’t able to continue like I felt to do. And now? Bike can go on. I feel like going, but my shoulder? Tried to listen to my body, but doubt reigned until I reached the Rupertiberg for the second time. Then, someone decided (probably the Mauro taking big decision in life) to use the uphill as check. If it hurts more, stop at the station and ask for a doctor. No need to argue, health is more important than a race. Pace was good, pain passed. I was happy, but feeling mentally drained! Downhill was less bad than expected: braking wasn’t difficult, so I finished the second lap screaming to friends why I was angry. It helped a little. Beginning the third lap was cool, because there were few people left on the bike course. This ease probably lead me to a lack of focus: started to feel demotivated, and my form was going away. It was really hard for a while to stay in good position on the bike and push the pedals regularly, but it passed when I reached the Rupertiberg for the third time. I was tired, but was gaining moral again. The sun was giving its best, anyway, pushing my heart rate way too high. Just to prevent a too long out-of-threshold, I pushed the bike for maybe 200 meters, during the last part of the uphill. In this third lap people out there with me were really suffering, most of them because they pushed too much during the first two laps. Craig, Chris, Jenny, Naoko, Wolfram... We shared more than a hammering sun, outthere! Last downhill allowed a good recover, and did some decent speed in the last, flat part. Ended the bike in 7:31, half an hour more than my worse expectation but hey, even 8 hours were welcome, after this odyssey! Run, or: exploring the Place Forgot to say that I suffered also some killer pain at my feet, during the last lap of the bike leg - a recent addition to my bike “technical baggage”. This lead to a ridicolously slow transition to the run course. Simply, I wasn’t able to enter my running shoes. After I did it, it took me almost two k to have a proper running form. But then I went, and feeling ok. It lasted maybe half an hour: after this time my mind wanted absolutely to quit. Mental preparation, where are you? I’m here, mate, hold on - but this voice was so far from me... I stopped only four times to evacuate, establishing a new record (the other was TWELVE) but it was terribly hard not to stop even if my legs were able to continue. My mind was more tired than my legs, and with this feeling I completed the first half of the marathon. A real suffering. My choice not to have clocks was felt like good in a moment and terrible in another one... Legs were ok, thanks God, but I almost decided to retire soon after they gave me the second bracelet, so I shouldn’t have had any problem to have a massage, like a finisher, and this lead me almost to tears... Luckily, Marcella met me. “How are you?” “Awful. I’m retiring” “No! I mean, do what you feel, think about it...” Too late. That “no” was coming from deep. From a land we two only have access. A place where we store our love, and share our lives, even our work made together for this race. So a simple “no” was enough to get back there, and notice in a different way my legs still going, my heart rate not so bad, my bruise still silent under the pain aspect. Then, I closed this place and refocused quite easy on the race. Ok: whassup now? 21 k to go. But they’re easy, because I can catch lot of people (I was already doing it, but not giving any importance!), and the more I’m near the finish line the more I’ll be strong and positive. Forget that accident. Time to run. And so it went. Passing behind the finish line, I noticed the race time, the first time since I started. It said 12 hours and change. This could mean a finish of 14 hours and much more than few minutes after it, but didn’t care. I was still going. Out of the finish line area, a kid started running by my side. We chatted a little. His name was Michael, he was from Klagenfurt, about 12 years old, did the Ironkid race the Friday before and wanted to become an Ironman, one day. He ran with me several K, until was getting dark. He was so sweet. After a while he spitted when I spitted, taking the same thing I was taking from the aid stations, looking tired when I walked, just like me. I asked him tons of time to go back, his mom was surely waiting for him... Then I convinced him saying “if you go back to the finish line and meet me right before my finish, you can finish with me, right?” He was enlightened. He thanked me a lot and got back (so fast that made me hurt...;) That sentence was for me, you already got it. It sent me back in that place me and Marcella share. And it made me think even about my friend Sandro, who spent lots of time to train wife and mother in law to pass him his son Jacopo before the finish line. He did, and it must have been great. I didn’t meet Michael, then, maybe it’s destiny I will finish with the son or daughter I’ll have one day! There’s no much more to say: I was able to run the second half marathon 6 minutes faster than the first (easy if you do a 5:31 marathon, anyway;) and maybe one k before the finish line I met Marcella again. “Feeling good?” “Great, darling, go to see me finish!” She started to run with me, and it was so sweet to see her from the course going through the Ironman City and reach that hell of loud music, flames and smoke that was waiting for me, for my finish. It was dark, and 300 meters from the finish line there were a part with no lights, behind the video wall. I didn’t notice a little curve and met the net supposed to give the direction to runners. I fell down heavily, beating the left side again. This time there were blood over my bruises. The soldiers there helped me to get on the course again, and I don’t remember to have touched the ground from there to the finish line. I flyed to the last curve, where no less than 400 people were screaming like crazy my name and their joy to see another finisher. I jumped on the finish line and remembered the world I can do an Ironman, but I can be more than this, because to an Ironman race I don’t have anything to ask. I have just joy to share and life to celebrate. Hope this story will be able to share my joy with you all. I received a lot from this race, and I’m looking forward to put it back in circle again, after a personal use that will make it even bigger - that’s natural. The first sporty occasion will be the Venice Marathon, next October, where I’ll be a pacemaker. So, if you decide to break four hours with me, then, be sure - I won’t fall ;) hugs! IronMauro