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Wow, another Aviva Ironman 70.3 Singapore behind me and it seems to have flown by me in record time. Every time I watch it, I am in awe of the triathletes that are the true Ironmen and women who swim 1.9km, cycle 90.1 km and still have energy to do a 21.1 km half-marathon run. The weather was especially grueling this year as the heatwave didn’t seem to let up in spite of two days of rain before the event¹. My respect goes to all the athletes that took part yesterday whether it was as part of a team or an individual attempt.

So how did my swim go? I have mixed feelings about my result this year. I made my cardinal mistake that betrays my sprint tendencies and enthusiastic over-confidence took me in the lead pack at the start². This was not where I wanted to be as a breaststroke swimmer. In my training, I had been keeping a wide berth from crawl swimmers since I had no wish to injure them but this courtesy meant that I hadn’t actually trained to be in the centre of the pack. So I started to panic as I needed to be at the side of the pack and when I couldn’t get there, my OCD tendencies began to come out – my swim cap wasn’t on properly, my goggles began to fog up, the Aviva-branded top became too constricting.

All these things culminated in my nearly bailing out after the first leg of the race. I lost my rhythm and I could feel myself involuntarily hyperventilating. I managed to pull to one side and surface swim with my head above water for a few meters. I saw a lifeguard move towards another competitor that was close to me, who was doing backstroke. Was he bailing? My mind started to also rationalise that same decision, even though I had not made it yet. There’s no shame in knowing your limits. Even the best athletes call in no-joy every now and then. I’m a mere mortal, what can I hope to achieve? I was going to tap out and enjoy a nice ride to the safety of the beach.

I realised that a great deal of the panic came from the pressure I was under too. My colleagues had been training hard and there was a strong air of competitiveness about the proceedings. My girlfriend was stood on the beach watching. There were people watching her watch me. My whole team was watching, both race team mates and work team mates – two folks from another department that I had egged on to turn up to watch the swim. My entire social circle was watching as I’ve not been shy about sharing the details of my training or this swim. And whats more, people had actually committed donations to my cause because of their faith in me. Not a good day to be letting anyone down.

For some reason, panic turned to action. I wouldn’t take the option that was all too easy to take and quit. I was determined to make it through and started to find my rhythm again that reduced my breathing from short staccato breaths to long drawn out ones, increasing the oxygen to my brain. I could think again outside of the blind haze of panic. I was embarrassed and shamed by the episode but I stripped out all those things and focused what I needed to do and swim the distance in the best possible time I could do. That’s not to say the all the support (and pressure) wasn’t there to drive me – I think it helped as a catalyst to bring me out of the state of inaction that I was in. But so many people were relying on me to deliver what I said I would do.

It was tough though. The panic attack had cost me energy, determination and more importantly, time. I went at a pace that I felt would last me the distance. The markers were so far away it made me hesitant to burn out my energy stocks too soon. But I was struggling as I started to feel a stitch on the second long straight on the first lap of two. I blamed my own lack of fitness and sufficient training for that stitch and the doubts almost came again. Instead, I powered on ahead despite trailing back from the pack.

People asked me later whether this year was tougher than last year as I looked knackered as I came out of the water each time. My panic incident hadn’t gone unnoticed and my fellow colleagues swimmers were way ahead of me. What I found out later, to my delight, was that it was tougher this year as I was going out like the clappers – when I exited the water I clocked a time of 46′ 12″, and my officially logged race time was 47’03″. Either way, I was chuffed as I had beaten my personal best from last year’s Ironman 70.3 and also in my lap pool training of 48′. Unfortunately, I had placed amongst the lowest for the Aviva teams taking part – one colleague was behind me and another had pulled out after the first lap.

Thankfully, my team mates who did the cycle and the run helped to make up the time. We won first place in the Corporate Challenge Mixed category and won glory for Aviva. Of course, it helps if you are competing in a small category made up of your own company but nonetheless it is a small victory.

What the swim, and even the Aviva Ironman 70.3 Singapore teaches me, is that you’ll keep pushing yourself to be better and rise to the challenge. Was I satisfied with my result? Satisfied, yes but not content. I think that with these things you’ll keep pushing yourself to stay out of being just content with your performance and satisfied is the best you are ever going to get. I look forward to next year’s attempt.

Lastly, for you pledgers or those who want to get a last minute donation in, please visit my swim for a cause. Donations are being accepted until the 26 March. If you are having any problems with the payment on the donating platform, please contact me.

1. Apparently the organisers follow local superstition and have a virgin plant chilli padis on the race course to ensure good weather. I think they either put too much chilli padi or they used extra virgin oil! [↩]
2. my Nike 10k run suffered the same error [↩]

Tags: aviva, charity, Fitness Training, ironman, singapore, swimming, training, unhcr