Wow! What a ride. It s one thing to be feeling great and confident going into a championship but a totally different ball game when things just don t seem to be going right.
If I was to be honest with myself, I would say that my World Championships preparation was at best, ordinary. Although I was doing my best to put in the hard yards out on the training track nothing seemed to go my way. My long sessions were solid, but my speed was just not coming along like it usually would. At the time, I put it down to being in a heavy block of training while living in the Australian Institute of Sport altitude house (simulating around 3000m above sea level) and trying to find the right balance between my training recovery and work commitments.
When I arrived in Daegu two weeks before my first race (20km walk), I thought I would have plenty of time to rest up from my commitments back in Canberra. Although doing all the right things; massage, sleep recovery, physiotherapy, ice baths, easy sessions my legs still felt heavy each session.
With a week before the 20km it was revealed that my iron levels were much lower than they had been all year perhaps this was the cause of all my recent misery?
Although trying to will myself into feeling sparky, by the time 20km race day was upon me I knew that I was coming into the championship underdone. My last few attempts at key speed sessions were unraveled by my ongoing feelings of fatigue and when I did get going, it never seemed to last for long.
Add to that the expected high temperatures and humidity for race today, I was a little deflated in my warm-up and more anxious on the start line than I had been in recent times.
The gun goes for the start of the 20km and the pace is very easy; pedestrian almost. It appears that no-one is willing to take on the powerful Russians or the anticipated weather. Soon after, Rubino of Italy takes to the lead to speed the race up, all the while, I m content to sit in the pack as this is where I believe all
the important race moves will be made.
Approaching 8km, it was only a matter of time before the big moves came. The Russians accelerated to chase down the Japanese competitor and never looked back. I had to dig deep to barely hang onto the chase pack. By 15km my race was over; my body was fatigued and I was going backwards; fast. It felt like the
stream of athletes coming past me was endless and in the end I tired to finish a very disappointing 27th.
The first of three walk races was over for the championship, and all I could think about was where am I going to go from here? I guess I had two options hang my head or let my disappointment from the 20km inspire to greater things in six days time when the gun fired at the start of the 50km. First, however, it was time
to concentrate on Claire s (wife) race.
Claire and I have a good understanding of each others needs before each championship. In the days leading up to my competition, Claire does everything I ask of her without question. Come race day, she will carry my bag and help me get to the start line on time. We understand that once my race is over, its all about Claire, until the attention returns to me before the 50km.
Arguably, the women had the worse of the race conditions of all the walks. By the time their race had come around, the sun had been shinning for a few days and the temperatures were higher than had been experienced in the recent weeks. The women s race went much the same as the men s 20km; pack walk to
8km and then the Russians went to the front and didn t look back. Claire walked well with the pack to the 8km but struggled to keep up with the surge in pace. Claire went on to finish the event strongly, picking off athletes and finishing in 21st position her best championship result.
After supporting Claire, the focus was back to recovery and preparation for the 50km. Plenty of physiotherapy, massage, ice baths, feeding, fuelling up and hydration.
Claire and I continued to train together in the days between Claire s 20km and my 50km race. It seemed to work well; Claire was walking slowly, recovering from her race and I was just ticking my legs over between my events and trying to get in the right head space for the longest event on the athletic programme.
I was starting to feel what I would call normal again. Perhaps the 20km race was the hard session I had been missing the link between the long solid efforts and the shorter, speed focused repetitions?
With the 20km being such a disaster, I went into the 50km with a plan. I had reviewed the race results and splits of the world championship 50km from Osaka, four years previously. I knew that if I could walk off the back and have a really strong last 10km I would be in with a shot. Given my confidence was at an all time low after the 20km there was only one approach that I could take conservative!
The 50km race started and I was exactly where I wanted to be well back, taking it easy, out for a nice stroll around Daegu. Past 20km not much had changed. There was a group of walkers around me and I wasn t doing much work. Come 30km it was time to start thinking about who was left around me and what I wanted to achieve; unfortunately at this time, the other walkers in the pack appeared to be content on letting the pace slip 5-10 seconds per lap. I knew that that wasn t for me and it was time to get a wriggle on. Gently trying to gain the momentum of the small pack around me, I began to move forward. Closing in on 40km and now in clear second, it was time to go for gold.
With the gap to Bakulin of Russia over two minutes, I knew I had some work to do. But I was up for it; it was the best I had felt for several months. I focused on the disappointment of my first event and the promises that I had made to my support team. I had promised my wife that I would get her what we had called the dinner plate for our third wedding anniversary that was a few days prior. For one reason or another the medals at this championship were huge, and we had nicknamed them the dinner plate . Wouldn t it be nice to eat off one of them we had thought.
Business end of the 50km and I had made significant in-roads. At each turning point I could see the gap Bakulin had on me was closing. With the gap down to around 80 seconds I wanted Gold and I wasn t afraid to chase it. I even let Victor Chegin, the Russian coach know it. Looking into his steel glaze as I past the drink
station, I said to him, I m gonna catch your man .
Feeling strong and confident, then something happened. That indescribable feeling of moving from a state of ecstasy into the bowels of hell. That point where there is no turning back, that feeling that every endurance athlete has experienced, the dreaded Wall . I was at the point where I knew I had gone to far, but there is nowhere else to go. Perhaps if I had ve waited a couple more laps to go hard it may have been different?
Passing the drink station with just over a lap to go, I knew I had about 25 seconds over Nizghorodov of Russia Chegin now with a smile on his face. But as those who have experienced the wall know, although mind willing, it is nigh impossible to hold onto anything let alone any sort of decent pace by this point.
I relinquished the silver medal at around 48.5km to find the finish line and a place on the podium.
I was relieved to be back in a medal winning position and to leave the championship on a positive note after what had started out as my worst championship ever. It goes without saying that what I achieved would not
have been possible without the continued support of the team at the Australian Institute of Sport; coach Brent Vallance, sports nutritionist Louise Burke and the Athletics Australia Team, especially the work of Stan Garland in the days between my races.
I now know what is possible. My motivation has never been higher. I look forward to the challenges of the year ahead and am chasing down Gold in London. As one of my competitors said, your not going to have it so easy next year .
Thursday, August 16, 2012 at 01:13AM