THE RACE:

I was under the water when the gun went off. It took me a moment before I realized that the race had started and that I should start swimming. I start off my watch already in chronograph mode and paddle away.

The swim leg was an out-and-back course: 1.9km out 1.9km back. Buoys with distance markers were placed at 200-meter intervals throughout the course. I check my watch at the first 200-meter marker: I’m progressing much slower than my regular pace, though I’m sure I’m swimming with just as much effort as I normally do. I dismiss the mental alarm and thought it was just due to the fact that I don’t swim straight. I did stray quite a bit on the first part of the swim, paddling closer to the boats to my left than the buoys on my right.

But even when I was able to manage swimming at a more or less straight line from buoy to buoy, I still progressed very slowly. Something has got to be wrong. I can cover 200 meters in as fast as 4 minutes, not more than 6 minutes even if I were tired. But at that time, it was taking me 7 to 8 minutes to cover it. I do the math: I was not going to make the cut-off at that pace. I started to use my legs more than I wanted to.

I got to the swim turnaround at past 1 hour 10 min, raising my doubts of making the 2:20 swim cut-off even further. Luckily, the current was in our favor on the way back and I’m done 44 minutes after.

I take my time in the transition area, catching my breath and drying off my feet before I put on my socks and shoes. I exchange a few words with the Japanese fellow seated beside me, talking about how tough the swim was – thinking back, I don’t think he really understood me. I buckle-up my helmet, put on my shades and race belt, gels already loaded and I’m out of the change tent.

The bike course consisted of one big loop and 3 small ones. All fours loops would take you past rolling hills towards the end of each lap but it’s the climb at the start of each small loop that really takes a lot away from you – many cyclists opted to walk their bikes up this particular incline. I thought that if I’d do as they did, I might end up tiring my running legs and lose precious time on the bike leg, so I decided to just ride it up, standing on my bike whenever it proved difficult to stay seated. On my second lap on the small loop, I was beginning to doubt whether I could still ride that one final lap that was yet to come. The heat and terrain had taken its toll on me and I’d been absent-mindedly riding in an upright recovery position instead of a more efficient aero position. I was already in zombie mode. I was no longer paying attention to my speed, all my body wanted to do was feel comfortable amidst the sweltering heat and hills.

A slight panic set in when I’d realized how slow I was going. I wasn’t going to make my target time at the rate I was going. And so I hammered down on the crank with all that I had, taking advantage of the down hills so that I had enough momentum to make the inclines less difficult. Just one more lap.

I had targeted a 6-hour bike finish and had brought food just enough for that target time. When I saw that I wasn’t going to make my 6-hour target, I took one gel I had reserved for the run. This choice would take its toll in the marathon.

I rode past the 170-km sign, which marked the end of the third loop and the last 10 kilometers to the transition area. All I could think of by them was to get off the bike and take the burning shoes off. I finished the bike course 48 minutes past my target time.

I started off the run course feeling much better than I had expected. I thought that if I could maintain a 6:00min/km pace then I’d be fine. I was only able to do so up to the first kilometer. Soon as I was out in the sunny part of the course, my pace began to slow to a jogging pace. I would stop at each aid station (there was one at about 1-km intervals) to cool myself down and re-hydrate. The heat was unbearable. By the third lap, I was down to walking. It took me 3 hours to complete the first half of the marathon. And I couldn’t force my legs to run anymore.

My heart and lungs were fine but my legs had no energy in them. Having already consumed one of my gels on the bike leg and seeing how slowly I was progressing, I was forced to take my last three gels at much longer intervals than I had planned. While there were bars and gels at the aid stations, I did not want to take any since I wasn’t used to the brand, and I didn’t want to have to have to pay an unnecessary visit to the porta-potty.

The sun had almost gone down when I was about to complete the third lap. I decided I could start skipping aid stations and start trying to jog again. Bad idea. Turns out I was already severely dehydrated. I would try to relieve myself every so often but hardly anything fluid would exit my body. I started feeling light-headed going out for my fourth run lap. I was forcing myself to drink water but still no effect. It’s as if my body wasn’t processing the fluids. Sweat was a mere glaze on the surface of my skin. The ambulance that wailed past me several times was foreboding. I pause for a few moments. A fellow Filipino participant pulled-up beside me and got me moving again and we paced for most of the final distance.

I was still de-hydrated and I had one more lap to go. I knew I had to get fluids into my system somehow so I would take a sip of Coke, water or Gatorade at each aid station so I could try to re-hydrate. Out of gels, I ate a slice of orange and a piece of cookie to somehow get a boost of energy, though even chewing seemed like a waste of energy in itself.

I’d decided to employ a run-walk strategy, which worked for a while but I would walk more than I would run. And then I thought: if I were going to walk, then I might as well walk fast. Another fellow Filipino prods me to run as I head for my last run out to the U-turn, and from there, I somehow managed to get back into a good run-walk ratio – I could again run more than walk.

On the last kilometer, I pulled-up all that I had left and made a mad dash to the finish, watching out for that single most important thing I wanted to carry to the finish line: the Philippine Flag. There it was. A member of the Philippine delegation was readying it. I slow down to grab it and unfurl it as I run down the last few meters to the finish line, the Philippine Flag trailing behind me. At 15 hours, 28 minutes and 59 seconds, I heard it: “Number 100 Tobias Miguel Bernardo from the Philippines! You are an Ironman!”

POST RACE:

Three things that greatly affected my race were the heat, race and nutrition plans (or the lack, thereof). I was told that temperature had soared up to 42 degrees Celsius. And I was in it for at least 12 hours (the sun rises in Langkawi just after 7am and sets at almost 8pm). I was too eager on the bike, despite knowing that this wasn’t my strongest discipline and knowing that the bike course was a difficult one. As for the nutrition, I was too complacent that I’d brought just enough according to my target time. I didn’t have a contingency nutrition plan. The heat and terrain I was not prepared for enough; I really just have to train more. But, perhaps, if I’d been more relaxed on the bike, giving myself more time to finish and if I had made some allowance in my nutrition plan, then maybe (just maybe) I might have raced better. By the end of the race, I’d lost 5 kilograms and I had to be re-hydrated though IV.

Triathlon is a sport wherein experience counts a lot. At first, I’d felt bad seeing how these much older participants would cycle or run past me. But having gotten to know some of them, it seems they’d been doing triathlons (and IM distances) for quite some time and they knew just how to race it. I started doing triathlons not even a year ago. My first triathlon event was a mini-sprint distance mid-April of last year, and this is only my fifth triathlon event.

I had my target times for each leg. I only made one. But still and all, I don’t feel that bad about it. I did not give up. I took a beating but I fought back. I finished the race. I AM an IRONMAN.

NOTE: This story was contributed by Tobias “Ias” Bernardo, one of the trustees of RUN4CHANGE INC. You may email him at nomad@run4change.com