Challenge Taiwan Half Race Report Billy Lynch Challenge Taiwan Half is set in a quiet town on the southeast coast of Taiwan. Those who don’t mind the logistical challenge of multiple forms of transport and foreign languages in order to get to the host city will be rewarded with a stunning course and an ideal location for a post-race holiday. Getting There... Stef & l left Darwin for Taiwan 4 days before our race on Tuesday 15 April 2014. Our flight didn't leave until 3:30 pm, which gave us the morning to finish packing. Special thanks to Corinne who managed to rush home between swim detention and work to drop off a missing and important piece of the bike bag I had recently bought from her. Past experience had told us that trying to arrange a taxi large enough to carry 2 bikes, our luggage and Stef and I and to arrive on time was too much to ask of Darwin taxi drivers. So we booked one taxi each to take us to the airport, which both arrived on time and only caused a minor grumble by our drivers when they realised bikes were involved. To fly to Taiwan, there were a couple of routes we could have taken. We chose what was both the most direct and the cheapest, which was Philippine Airlines to Manila with an overnight stay, followed by China Airlines to Taiwan. However, although our choice was the cheapest flight, there was one issue we hadn't been able to resolve, which was the cost of excess baggage. From what we could tell, the situation didn't look good and we braced ourselves for some financial pain. As it turned out though, we were very lucky. Philippine Airlines provide 23 kg free baggage each with our ticket, which for us only accounted for the weight of our bike bag. When we were told it would be $35 for every kg we had over 23kg, we made one final effort to get as much as we could into our cabin baggage, knowing we were both at least 10kg over! To our very good fortune though, Philippine Airlines generously gave us 7kg each of excess baggage for free, which reduced a fee of over $300 down to about $100 each. The flight was comfortable and 4 hours later we were making our way through customs at Manila airport. Catching a large enough taxi for all our things was extremely simple if only Darwin cabbies could learn from their Asian neighbours! It cost P1650 Philippine pesos (A$40) to get to our hotel, a few kilometres from the airport. This was our first time to Manila and first impressions were that it was a rather smoggy, dirty, run down looking city, or at least the area that we were in. But our hotel at Nichols Airport Hotel was comfortable and would more than do for one night. We brought our own dinner and 1

breakfast from Australia, without any problems at quarantine, but there was also a restaurant at hotel, which I can ensure serve some very tasty flavoured icecreams. The following morning we were again bracing ourselves for more hefty excess baggage fees. China Airlines provided 20kg free baggage each with our tickets, which certainly wasn't going to be enough. However, again, due to our very good fortune, we were offered another very generous 20kg of free baggage and only had to pay about A$50 of excess baggage each. There was a P550 (A$15) departure tax and a slow bureaucratic crawl through checkpoint after checkpoint at Manila Airport, but eventually we were at our gate waiting for our 10am flight to Kaohsiung, Taiwan. Kaohsiung, in the southwest of Taiwan is Taiwan’s second largest city, but Challenge Taiwan was in Taitung, a few more hours away on the southeast coast. Our original plan was to catch the bus from the airport, which Challenge were providing for athletes. Unfortunately, by the time we tried to book ourselves on to it a couple of weeks earlier, it was already booked out. Therefore we decided to make our own way to Taitung via train. There was a train station at the airport which made things easy. My upgrade from a bike box to a bike bag with wheels at one end was also proving to be a good investment for me, although I was already thinking that a bike bag with wheels on both ends would be hugely more advantageous. We asked the man behind the ticket information office how we should get to Taitung. Despite the language barrier of us not speaking Chinese and him not speaking English, with the use a pen and paper, we found out we would need to catch a train into the Kaohsiung CBD then another to Taitung. This all went surprisingly smoothly, including taking all our luggage and bikes on to the metro train into the city and apart from me purchasing two tickets for Taichung rather than Taitung, before I quickly realized my error, before we knew it Stef and I were sitting back on a train for Taitung, scheduled to arrive earlier than the Challenge bus. The train took us out of the smoggy city, past suburbs with patches of rice, banana, mango and palm plantations and slowly into less built up areas of the city where the plantations started outnumbering the urban areas. About one hour into the three hour train trip, the coastline came into sight to our right and with it, cleaner, much less smoggy air and the view of mountains to our left. The train route then turned into the mountains and the rest of the journey involved going through numerous tunnels until we eventually met up with the coast again and the town of Taitung. Lonely Planet describes Taitung as providing “little reason to visit this sprawling, traffic congested town…” but as we found out over the next week, this couldn’t be further from the truth.

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Bikes on the train from Kaohsiung to Taitung, Taiwan. We weren’t the only triathletes travelling to Taitung by train.

When we arrived in Taitung it was about 5:30 pm on Wednesday 16 April, 30 hours after we had left our home in Darwin. It was rainy and cold, which was a surprise to Stef and I as we both were expecting tropical weather. Outside the station we walked over to the first taxi driver we saw, with all our luggage and asked if he could take us to our hostel. Not speaking English, he quickly told us in Chinese, which was well understood by Stef and I by his body language, that he wasn't interested in driving us and all our things. With the language barrier now clearly a bigger issue than we were expecting in Taiwan, we needed another plan. In the distance we saw some larger taxi wagons so we walked over and optimistically asked again. Again, no English was spoken but we were greeted with a much warmer response. The problem for us was that the drivers didn't recognise the non-Chinese name of our accommodation, La Pace Hostel, and to make things worse, we foolishly hadn't brought the address with us, but with a little help from Stef’s smart phone, google maps, a phone call to the hostel and 3 taxi drivers all fussing over where we needed to go, we were eventually in one taxi and driving to where we needed to be. This was the first of many examples of how friendly the people of Taiwan were. The hostel was great and met all our needs. Tired and hungry, we walked down the street, hoping to find somewhere close by for dinner, we came across a 3

Japanese/Korean restaurant called Seaweed Deli Dessert, just two blocks from the hostel. It was perfect and we ended up eating there every night for the next 3 nights! Pre-race Preparations… The next day, Thursday, we were up early to put our bikes together and to take a spin. This involved having to adjust to riding on the right side of the road. The traffic was quiet and weather was warm and it was a good feeling to begin familiarising ourselves with the town.

Investigating the bike course by bus.

We got back from the ride just in time to catch the east coast bus, which followed the same road as the course. Apart from getting to see the undulating road, the recce also doubled as a sightseeing trip with the bus stopping at a lookout half way along for photos and the final stop at Sanxiantai, a popular coastal landmark and tourist destination. In the afternoon, we rode our bikes over to the Nirawan Garden Resort where the race expo and pro race brief was being held. Although being just a 10-15 min walk from our hostel to the race start, the one disadvantage of our hostel location was that we were a 20-30 min bike ride across town to the resort. When we arrived we found out that the pro race brief had been inconveniently pushed back from 4pm to 6pm. 4

We managed to get ourselves lost twice on the ride back home in the dark, although we did inadvertently discover the night market food stalls. Our getting lost was mainly as a result of variations in the English versions of the street signs, such as our street Zungshan, which was also called Chungshan at the other end. Fortunately for us, a stranger could see our confusion and stopped in their car to help point us in the direction home. On Friday morning, the day before race day, we walked down to the swim course at Flowing Lake, the man-made fresh water lake (that wasn’t flowing). The water was colder than I was used to and so I hoped for a wetsuit swim.

Stef and Billy at Flowing Lake.

Later that morning we again rode over the Resort for the age group race brief. The more interesting elements included the water temperature of 23.5 °C which meant wetsuits would be allowed; personal floatation devices would be allowed to assist the weaker swimmers; and post race intravenous drips would be available to anyone, not just the medically ill, so long as you were willing to pay!

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Race Day… Race morning started at 4am for me, an hour’s sleep in longer than Stef. My wave start wasn't until 8am but I wanted to be there early to wish Stef well and see the pro start at 6 am. I had been feeling relaxed throughout the lead up to the race. Actually I was a little worried I was too relaxed because usually my best races are those when I've been feeling tense or unwell and not expecting to race well. For this race, my third halfdistance triathlon, I was relaxed and had high expectations for a personal best time. Walking to the race, I began to think properly about racing for the first time. I realised I didn't really have a race strategy apart from ‘go-hard’ and for the first time some nerves began to creep in as it dawned on me that I only had one chance to execute a good race all the training that had gone into it. However, I still felt confident and was ready to race. I got to Flowing Lake about 5:30 am and fortuitously bumped into Stef as she was walking from transition to the water, also generously holding the bike pump to give to me when she should have just been focusing on her own race. The race start was somewhat of an anticlimax as the traditional canon, which was meant to start the competition in grand style failed to go off after the countdown from 10. Some pros dived in, others hesitated, but eventually everyone was racing. I then made my way to my bike, still with a little under two hours before my wave start. After checking that all my equipment was ready to go, I found a quiet, grassy area to sit and wait patiently for the race to get closer. About 20 minutes before the start I put my wetsuit on, swallowed a gel then walked down to the water to swim a few strokes and look for some landmarks I could use for direction. With about 10 minutes to go they called everyone in the first wave to the start line. Usually my swimming strategy is to start wide where I can find some clear water and gradually make my way into the centre of the course once the field has stretched out. This swim was different because it was a very wide in-water start and I knew the depth of swimming talent in this race wasn't as strong as other races. Therefore I put myself front and centre and told myself to take the first few 100m hard to find some clear water and hopefully make the most of any relative advantage I had. This seemed to work ok, but in the excitement of it all, it wasn't long before my heart rate was way too high and I needed to ease off and focus on breathing and technique rather than speed. I had no sense of how I was traveling during the swim. My arms felt heavy and the water thick and I felt like I was making a lot of effort for no reward. There were a couple of swimmers around me but none of us seemed to be breaking away. Occasionally I'd start day dreaming and I'd have to keep telling myself to focus on the race and on good technique. I was happy to see the exit ramp approach and relieved to see that my swim was under 35 min, which was my rough goal. 6

It was perhaps a 200m run from the swim to the bag collection. As usual for me, I made sure not to run too hard to keep my heart rate at an adequate level. The volunteers were great and handed my bag to me as I approached. I lost a bit of time in transition as I had some difficulty getting the wetsuit over my ankles, then just after dropping off my bag and running for my bike with my bike shoes in hand, I realised I hadn't collected my sunglasses, so I went back for them. Initially I started looking in someone else’s bag, then quickly became aware they had actually fallen into the shoes I was carrying. The bike course started quickly as we rode off an overpass and over a long bridge with speeds quickly reaching 40-50 km/h. In the past I've consumed 2-3 gels over a 90km course, one roughly every hour. This race I had decided I'd consume more, one every 40 min and start straight away. So within the first 5km I had my first one. I also started with a Gu, which I'd never tried before. Also, I've found I often get hungry during the 90 km ride, so I took a bite of a Cadel energy bar, washed it down with some sports drink I purchased at the expo but had never raced with before, then put my head down and continued with my race plan to go-hard. The ride out to the turn around point at the 45km mark was most enjoyable. Green mountains with grey cloud hiding their peaks followed the road to the left and the ocean came in and out of view to the right. The undulating course would sometimes pass over bridges offering a glimpse of the river valley cutting between the mountains. The road was open to traffic, but there was a generously sized bike lane for which to ride in. Nevertheless, as I started to catch up to the slower riders in the full distance race, it paid to be extra careful when overtaking. The course regularly passed through small towns and extra care needed to be taken with cars, trucks, buses and scooters often passing into the bike lane. I never felt unsafe or that I needed to brake and lose speed but you needed to have an awareness of the traffic around you. I got to the turn around point averaging 35 km/h, which is fast for me and well ahead of where I thought I'd be. Projecting that forward for the next 45km, I felt I was putting together a great race. As we came up a short, steep hill and turned back on to the highway to return to transition, a stiff breeze hit my face and that was then when it dawned on me I'd been riding out with a tailwind! No wonder riding had felt so enjoyable. I knew the next 45km wasn't going to be so easy. I continued with my gels every 40 min, returning to my preferred Endura brand. I went through a low patch for the first 5-10 km into the wind, which wasn't strong, but enough to notice the reduction in speed. I continued to pass riders, but it didn't mean much because they were all in the full distance race. The only riders in the half distance I saw were the stronger ones I'd beat out of the swim that were now powering past me on the bike. I continued to tell myself to go hard, don't give in, although I started to struggle to maintain my form on the aerobars for long periods with my lower back tensing up while I tried to stay low and push into the wind. 7

Conditions had been partly cloudy up until now, with even a few light drops of rain, but the sun was starting to break through and it was getting hotter. At about the 70km mark, I noticed a rider near my back wheel drafting me. Working quite hard for the last 70km myself at this point, my initial reaction was to tell him to nick off! But I held back, telling myself that perhaps it's a rider that doesn't know the rules and in any case, there's no reason for him to affect my race if he wants to draft me. I just need to ride as if he's not there and hopefully the marshals will see him. However his presence did begin to affect my race. I began to think more about the fact that we was continuing to draft me and not about what I needed to do to finish this bike leg and prepare myself for the run. I tried surging a couple of times to break away, but he would surge with me. I tried easing back on the speed as I had a drink or another gel to give him an opportunity to overtake, but instead he would free wheel and continue to draft. He even started chatting to me as if we were riding this race together! That was also when I realised he was an Australian and should definitely know what drafting is. With 10 km to go, I passed an aid station and although I had a little amount of fluids left, I could have used some more. However, I hesitated, mainly because I didn't want to part with a water bottle I seemed to have become sentimental over. Strange! 5 km later I ran out of fluids and was regretting not collecting a fresh one. With just a few kilometres to go until transition, we reaching a point where I needed to overtake a couple of long course riders but couldn't because the drafter was on the inside of my back wheel and blocking me in, so I told him to overtake first. He did so with a burst of speed, which I couldn't keep up with and I didn't see him again until the run. Fortunately with less than 1 km from transition there was another aid station (mostly for the full distance athletes) so I snatched a bottle and took a few big gulps and stuffed the bottle in the back pocket of my tri top (so I didn't have to part with my favourite bottles) just in time to slip my feet out of my shoes and dismount. As I swung my leg over, the bottle in my back pocket fell out and for a split section I thought about stopping for it, before realising there were more important things to do. T2 was in the same location as T1, but worked in reverse direction. This transition went more smoothly for me than the first. I squirted some sun block on to my hand, slapping it on as I run out of transition, but fumbled for 10 seconds or more trying to get the screw cap back on, worried I'd have sun block everywhere in my transition bag if I didn't. It’s funny what you think is important when you're under pressure! As I started running, I felt a slight stitch. This isn't uncommon for me so there was no need to panic. All I needed to do was to take the first few kilometres easy to allow my body to get used to running and the stitch to fade. Aid stations were every 2 km and as I ran through the first one and with the sun still beating down, I grabbed some sports 8

drink and an ice cold sponge. I was only running at about 5:30 min/km pace for the few kilometres but was already starting to pass people. Some of the stronger runners were also passing me though. By about the 4 km mark, the stitch was gone so I started to increase the tempo. I got my first 1 km split under 5 min/km and though my race was getting back on track, I still didn't feel 100%. I couldn't tell whether I was a bit dehydrated and needed to drink more, or whether I had drunk too much. Despite my instinct telling me not to have a gel, at the 7 km mark I decided that forcing one down might be my best shot at finding some much needed speed and zapping me out of my funk with a sugar hit. Although I didn't know it at the time, this was the start of the end for my race. I was still sticking to my race plan to go hard, but going hard was becoming increasingly difficult. Whenever I pushed I began to feel sick with an unsettling feeling in my stomach. My 1 km splits were getting slower and slower – 6 min, 6:30 min, 7 min… I knew this was getting comical, but there was nothing I knew I could do. I still didn't know whether I should be drinking more fluids or less. The sky had clouded over again but I wasn't feeling any better. By about the half way mark of the run, it was dawning on me that this race wasn't going to end as I had hoped. There would be no PB today. This race was now about survival and getting to the finish line. I wanted to stop and walk, but I knew that would get me no closer to the finish line. I needed to keep running, even if I felt I was on the verge of vomiting, I still needed to push as hard as I could. Before coming to Taiwan some people told me that they think about what they'll write in their race report during the run. I found I was thinking about much more philosophical things than that, such as "why do we do this?" Why do we get up so early to train, why do we sacrifice social occasions and time with friends, just so we can get up early and train again? Why do we train so hard that we're tired and then we get grumpy with our friends and our colleagues and our loved ones? Why do we invest our time and our money into triathlon, only to see all that investment fail to turn into the desired results? Is all of this really worth it? A part of me had decided during the run that this would be my last triathlon. As the disappointment sank in, my stomach remained unsettled and runner after runner started passing me. I turned my focus to digging deep and gritting out whatever I could from the remainder of the race. To help take my mind off how I was feeling, I also turned my focus to making sure I smiled and thanked every one of the children volunteers that were out there as they clapped and shouted words of encouragement. “Gio, gio, gio”! Crossing the line and there was only one emotion, relief! I sat down and was very kindly given some water and a towel soaked in ice water. There was also free beer for anyone that crossed the line, but there would be no finish line beer for me today (that would come about 3 hours later). After partially composing myself near the finish line, I wandered over to get some fruit and more fluids, although it wasn't long before I was 9

behind a tree throwing up all the fluids I had consumed during the last few hours. I instantly felt better and wondered if I was in this situation again, whether I'd have the will power to make myself throw up on the course, and whether it would actually have resulted in a faster race? But it didn't matter. The next few hours were all about recovering from the day and cheering on Stef and she pushed hard all the way to the finish line.

Stef on the boarded run course following the old train line on the edge of the CBD.

Over the following couple of days, I would reflect on the race and discover there were a number of positives in there for me to draw upon. A PB swim, a PB ride and the knowledge that I can dig deep when every part of me is telling me to stop. I still don't know whether the sacrifice required in one’s life to do well in triathlon is worth it. At this stage I can only take peoples word for it. To see Stef train so hard and accomplish what she has is inspiring. And to hear Challenge Taiwan winner Britta Martin say in her victory speech that competing in ironman races has made her a better person is encouraging. I do know that the challenge of pushing your body and your mind to do something it's never done before makes triathlon one hell of an addictive sport! I think I might be ready for a full ironman now...

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