Ironman Monaco 70.3 - Shaken not stirred!
When I think about Monte Carlo I have visions of two sweet oval shaped honey and coconut biscuits joined by a layer of vanilla flavored cream covered with raspberry jam which at an average mass of 20.8 grams each are the heaviest biscuit available in Arnott's Assorted Cream product range.That was until I experienced something so much sweeter and so much creamier, Ironman Monaco 70.3!
The Principality of Monaco and in particular the town of Monte Carlo is best known for its casinos, gambling, glitz, glamour, and superstars so who better to take you on this ego-tourism adventure than Martin “Will” Williams and John “JL” Lennon of the Human Endurance Recreational Team (HERT).
First impressions upon arriving into the airport at Nice in the South of France are as you would expect. It’s a stunningly beautiful sea side city with typically French appeal. Its not until you take the 45 minute bus trip along the coast road into Monte Carlo that you really begin to appreciate what an amazing place this really is. If you are not visually blown away by the Ferrari’s, McLaren’s, Lamborghini’s and Rollers you soon will be as you take the last corner into the township and see the enormous mountainous backdrop that drapes the entire city.
 You can't help being gobsmacked by the incredible wealth and beauty of this city. The harbor is stacked with incredible yachts and bookended by the casino and Palace, both beautiful in their own way. A note about Monte Carlo—it is a 3D city. It is built on a hillside. Consequently, there is an extensive elevator system to aid and confuse pedestrians in their ascent and descent of the city.
With hotel check in complete we armed ourselves with designer sunglasses, HERT cycling jerseys, double pluggers and a fist full of Euro’s. It was off to the water front for some beers, boats and boobs, and the Cote D’Azur certainly didn’t disappoint. Aqua blue seas of 23 degrees, beaming sunshine and cool winds were all apart of the superb environmental buffet that had been laid out before us.
Formalities of registration were dealt with in a smooth and organized fashion although the usual Ironman scams applied. Having left my race license in the UK I was stung with a 20 euro medical examination and a further 30 euro for a race license. On the whole though, a very well organized process A thorough recon of the race village was next on the agenda. Not being a huge fan of the M Dot paraphernalia I opted for a new pair of goggles. Martin “Chicken Legs” Williams however was neck deep in lycra, coffee cups, T-shirts, etc. It was just a shame that his credit card was only working in France (100 meters away) and not Monte Carlo.
The rest of Friday and Saturday was jam packed full of sight seeing which all took place within a 500 meter radius of the Green Dolphin café and the Stars n Bars club. The beer was cold, the steak was juicy and the foreign language skills were an absolutely appalling mix of ‘Hello’ in French, ‘Beer’ in German and ‘Goodbye’ in Spanish.
 The morning of the race began with a 5am taxi ride from the Artimis Hotel (aka Faulty Towers) to the race start where I picked up a frightened and bewildered Martin “I forgotten all of my race nutrition” Williams. After some reassurance and heavy petting Martin took off through the maze of escalators and elevators back to his hotel whilst I readied our trusty steeds for action. It was still dark out and as I stood around waiting and waiting and waiting for the return of my forgetful friend I glanced upwards toward the stars. As dawn broke I soon realized they were not stars but actually lights from the houses at the top of the first climb out of Monte Carlo.
Transition was now closed and Will was on the wrong side of the fence. Never fear, being ill prepared is a skill that I have mastered many many times. Like a coiled spring I shot into action with some calming words and a little inappropriate touching. Will stood by sweating, panting and awestruck as I conducted his final preparations before heading to the swim start with the rest of the field.
As per usual the swim looked much longer than it did the day before but I was quietly confident that my swim preparation, which consisted of a 3.8 km swim at Busselton WA, 9 months earlier would pull me through. Will and I became separated at this point but I knew we would cross paths again soon. The water at 23 degrees was as warm as I’ve ever experienced and would be best attempted wetsuit free. I attacked the swim with the ferocity of a gold fish and although very slow I exited the water feeling completely relaxed.
I bolted into transition incident free and engaged in some necessary nudity before entering a sparsely unpopulated bike compound. I grabbed my trusty steed and was off with the speed of a thousand startled gazelles! A short flat fast ride proceeded the first 23km climb. I felt fantastic and began picking off my less than flighty competitors. The views over the city were spectacular. Large cruise liners and super yachts had come out to see the race start and were now littering the ocean below. Onwards and upwards was the order of the day. Nutrition was good, legs were turning well, I was passing without being passed (not including the Astana “B” team who flew past like we were standing still) and I could see my adversary just ahead of me!
As I was reaching the first summit with Martin “swim training was worth every penny” Williams just in front of me I looked to the right at a large sign that had captured my attention. On this massive climb was a big Sign Post and on that Sign Post was the name of the town………SAINT MARTIN!? And like be struck down by the hand of God himself my front tyre popped. Calmly I began the process of changing the tyre. It was not the quality of pitt stop the locals were used to but I was sure it was enough to get me going. Not so! In the biggest rookie mistake since Lewis Hamilton’s loss of the 2007 F1 World Champs I had pinched the tube.
All of a sudden my French language skills improved beyond belief as I launched a barrage of expletives across the principalities airwaves. Birds flew south, mothers locked up their children and cows stopped giving milk.
Back on my way I flew into the down hill section like a true European descending specialist (possibly and exaggeration but since I’m writing this blog I’ll church myself up where I see fit) I hooked into the rest of the climbs and was actually quite confident with my bike and run preparation. The last climb was a killer and I had quite expected the descents to take so much out of me.
The descents here are huge and combine many many switch backs. Added to that, you will be entering them straight off a massive climb. Quite seriously I have learnt some valuable lessons. Ensure that you get sufficient nutrition in before the descent as it can roll on for quite some time before heading uphill again. You might not be rolling your legs much, but your concentration and mental focus will be severely drained. Your forearms will be pumped and hurting from braking into the corners and you rarely ever get the opportunity to eat or drink. I made this realization as I headed into the last climb and completely bonked a third of the way into it.
Having said this, if you like climbing and descending as much as I do then this course is definitely for you.
Off the bike into the run I was feeling sorry for myself and perhaps still dribbling a little. There was no sign of Martin “Patron Saint of Monaco” Williams anywhere. I regrouped and headed out conservatively taking in fluids and cola as best I could. The sun was fiercely hot and the going was tough. I managed to pull myself back from the brink and was feeling ok. The worst thing about bonking was that I wasn’t in any muscular pain and I wanted to go faster but the energy levels just simply aren’t there.
I put the thought of defeating my adversary to the back of my mind and with vacant resolve I headed of into the run and enjoyed every minute of it. Excepting only the 6 minutes on each lap in took to run up the hill to the casino. The crowd was spectacular and the aid stations were fantastically stocked with crushed ice, cold drinks and gorgeous girls. The streets were littered with fast people and faster cars. Coming into my final lap I knew that I had been beaten fairly and squarely by a better man on the day. If only I hadn’t stopped to do up my shoe laces I might have got him?
In reflection this is without a doubt a “MUST DO” HERT event to get you out and training in Australian winter months. What better way to set you up for Hawaii or for the summer season that a solid winters training topped off with the Rocknrolla of all Ironman events.
This is Jonny “2nd place” Lennon and Martin “1st place” Williams coming to you live from Monte Carlo. Tune in next time for Challenge Barcelona.
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