A few weeks ago I had the privilege to be part of a spectacular event at Port Macquarie, Central Coast, New South Wales – Ironman Oz 2011. Whilst I was not competing, 1100 brave men and women did, including my fiancée Rob.

An Ironman (not to be confused with the equally gruelling surf event) is the mother of all triathlons and consists of – 3.8km swim, 180km cycle and 42.2km (marathon) run. It is not for the faint hearted, nor something you can do without a whole load of training and these guys and gals are serious!! If you are a professional athlete, you might cross the line in a little over 8hrs. For the others, you have 17hrs to complete the massive task. As a spectator, be prepared for a very, very, very long day…

If you are training for an Ironman, be prepared to train, eat, sleep, train, eat, sleep, train, eat, sleep… (you get the picture) for the next 6-8 months. Their 20-25hr weekly training regime puts my measly 8-10hrs to shame. These guys (and gals) train hard, getting up well before the sun rises and most nights, home well after dark. An easy day for them would be a 4hr ride around the hills of Mt Nebo (and yes, Mt does mean mountain!). They love their sport, and equally love pushing their physical, mental and emotional bodies to the limit. I can’t say that I understand why they would put their bodies through such a gruelling event. Nevertheless, you can’t help but admire their determination, physical and mental endurance/ability/strength and the discipline it takes to train and complete one.

The Race

The Swim (3.8km)

It all starts at 6.30am in the Hastings River, Port Macquarie. ( If you haven’t got a wetsuit on, you had better beg or borrow one, as the waters are a cool 18 degrees! Brrrrrr..) The 1100 competitors jockey for a prime starting position (deep water start), the canon fires and they’re off and racing. It’s like a human washing machine with arms, legs, swim caps and white water everywhere. What an amazing sight! A little over an hour later, and Rob is out of the water. I give him a quick wave and watch him struggle with his wetsuit, (thank goodness for volunteers) as he disappears into the massive transition tent for a quick ‘superman’ change.

The Cycle (180km)

Minutes later, and just like new, Rob’s on his bike, helmet on, heading up out of town on the first of many hills he will encounter. Another wave, and a “go Rob” before synchronizing my watch to ensure I don’t miss him returning from his first lap (yes, they do 2 x laps of 90km). Good time for breakfast I think! A few hours later and he returns. A quick wave, an even quicker snap, and a “go Rob – looking good” as he flies past. One more glance on his return journey up the hill and it’s time for lunch.It will be a few more hours before he gets back and starts the run, and I need my sustenance too!!

The Run (42.2.km)

Ok, so I’m still waiting at the transition area for Rob to return. I’m trying not to be too concerned as time ticks away. Did he get a flat?? Has he fallen off?? Will he make the cut-off time??? Whew, he arrives. Another wave and a kiss (lucky me), and I sprint over to a friend who is in prime position for the run leg. A few minutes later, I see Rob, give him a quick kiss and a “you’re doing great” and send him on his way. 200m down, only 42km to go…

2 hrs later, and 12hrs since the start, and it’s dark and cold. The spectators are sparse now. Competitors are finishing and Rob still has 2 laps to go. Many others are in the same position, although some looking more worse for wear. The course is dark and lonely, and you can see the mental pain as they yell to their loved ones “I’m gonna get through this”.

Hours later and the end is finally in sight for Rob. I see him prior to the finish line, give him a big hug and tell him how proud I am of him. He runs the final 200m where he is treated like a superstar, high-fiving strangers, strobe lights, music pumping and that final announcement that he has been dreaming of….”Rob Bowden of Paddington Queensland, YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!!!!”

It is another 45min before I see him again. He is hobbling, but beaming from ear to ear, wearing his big fat finisher medal with pride. The next morning he swears he will never do an Ironman ever again and I shed a sigh of relief as I recount the last 24 hours…..Whew!!!