Norseman Race Report

For the second year running we have been lucky enough to have an athlete get a spot in the Norseman Xtreme Tri, this year Graham Colby had the opportunity to race this unique event and here is his race report:

Being selected for the 2014 Norseman Triathlon really was a dream come true. Having said that, I’ve never been more uncertain about whether or not I could complete an athletic event. Given the unique nature of the race and the reputation of the course, the unknowns often felt overwhelming. 

 

My girlfriend, Charlie, and I were fortunate to be able to add a couple weeks of vacation in Norway, before the Norseman. Regardless of the race, I would highly recommend a trip to Norway. It is an absolutely beautiful country; pristine fjords, towering cliffs, steep waterfalls and massive glaciers. Outside the cities the small roads (highways) wind their way around the fjords and over the mountains, barely noticeable in the massive landscape. The roads are well paved, speed limits are low and from our experience drivers are generally quite friendly, which made for amazing riding and running. We sought out iconic switchbacks, remote ocean roads and long roads through barren national parks. Even swimming in the intimidating, cold, dark fjords became an experience I grew to love. Norway was also having the warmest summer in 100 years, so that didn’t hurt. All to say the training (tapering) we did in Norway was unbelievable and an incredible way to explore the country.

 

The Norseman is a point-to-point Iron-distance race that takes place in central Norway. The 3.8km swim is in a glacier-fed fjord that has a reputation for being cold, the 180km bike covers 5 mountain passes, most notably the first climb, which has a vertical ascent of 1200m, and the 42.2km run finishes at 1850masl, on the summit of Gaustatoppen. Due to the remote location, the race can only allow the first 160 athletes to make the final 4.7km ascent to the peak; the other athletes finish the marathon at the bottom of the mountain. The race is also unsupported meaning there are no aid stations. All athletes must bring a support team of at least one, to look after nutrition, clothing and general well-being. 

 

On that note, I could not have completed this race without my incredible support team, Charlie and her sister, Louise. They were patiently by my side from 2:30am to 9pm, encouraging me and making sure I had absolutely everything I needed. I owe Louise a special thank you for coming to Norway specifically to be the second member of my support team. The day would have been much more difficult with less than two support team members.

 

Finally, the success I had that day was a product of the excellent guidance and advice I received from my coach Sylvie Dansereau and the team at NRGPT. Sylvie prepared me for the long day that was the Norseman and put together a race plan that would have allowed me to achieve my potential… had I stuck to it.

 

The Lead Up To The Race

 

The night before was spent going over my gear with Charlie and making sure it was organized and accessible. I didn’t get to bed until 10:30 and I definitely slept but I don’t know for how long. I got up at 2:00am, had breakfast (2 boost, 5 pieces of bread with jam or honey, a bowl of oatmeal and a banana) showered and got dressed. We walked over to T1 around 3:15, set my bike up and I boarded the ferry just before 4:00am.

 

I had watched the Norseman videos so many times that elements of the day were strangely familiar; the lit ferry with the front gate up, camera flashes against the black and white hull and the dark sky between the fjords.

 

The atmosphere on the ferry was surprisingly calm. About 30min after departing, athletes started their final preparations. I put on my wetsuit, did some light stretching, had a gel and finished my Powerade. The water temperature was reported to be 16C (relatively warm for Hardangerfjord). Rather than using a neoprene hood or booties I wore a second swim cap under the race cap and put Vaseline on my face and feet (both debatably unnecessary). Eventually the sounds of the ferry’s engine died down and the front gate opened. Athletes slowly started to gather at the front of the ferry.

 

The Swim – 01:08:49

 

The water was a little choppy but the jump off the ferry was surprisingly civilized. There didn’t seem to be much panic or hesitation. Athletes jumped in and swam away. I jumped in with my goggles in hand, making sure I didn’t loose them when I hit the water. Unfortunately I had forgotten about the Vaseline on my hands and face. When I put my goggles on and began to swim, I quickly realized I couldn’t see. Unsure where the start line was or how long I had to get there, I did my best to rub the Vaseline off my goggles. I eventually identified the kayaks that created the start line, a couple of hundred meters away, put my goggles back on (significantly improved) and I started to swim. I arrived with plenty of time and I decided to line up toward the outside (away from the shore). The swim hooked right and I thought the outside would be the most natural or straightest course.

 

Even though we were less than 300 athletes in an open fjord, it was a race and the start was still a bit of a scramble. Swimmers eventually thinned out but I never felt like I was far from the next athlete. Finding the occasional hip or set of feet to draft off was relatively easy. There were four boathouses just outside Eidfjord that I had noticed during a swim earlier in the week and I hit those sooner than I expected. At that point I knew I was within 20min from the swim exit and I could pick up the pace.

 

T1 – 00:04:22

 

I got out of the water and into T1 quickly. Charlie was waiting for me and I put on a pair of bib shorts (given the length and profile of the bike course the additional comfort seemed like it might be an asset), tri jersey, socks, shoes, helmet, etc… a mandatory safety vest and lights for the tunnels leaving Eidfjord and I was off.

 

The Bike – 07:19:03

 

The climb out of Eidfjord to Dyranut is hands down the longest and most intimidating climb I’ve ever ridden. 1200m of vertical over 30km. It would be hard to find a similar climb in Ontario, Quebec, or most of Eastern Canada. Thankfully, Sylvie had recommended switching to a 28 cassette for the race. As the road started to climb I got into my lowest gear and settled into the power assigned in my race plan (less than 235W for long climbs). Despite feeling like almost everyone was passing me and the top 160 was slipping through my fingers, I stuck to the plan, determined to get up to Dyranut. I was also optimistic that I would catch a lot of these athletes on the second half of the course. To my disbelief the first 2 hours flew by and I slowly started to emerge from the rock walls that had surrounded us as we climbed out of Eidfjord. The road started to flatten and as promised I felt good… even strong enough to pick up the pace.

 

As I approached the Hardangervidda Plateau, I also saw my support for the first time. Without specific aid stations identified on the course it was up to them to find a safe place to pullover, so I didn’t know how often I would see them.  Even though the two water bottles behind my seat weren’t completely empty I exchanged them as I rode by and ditched my safety vest.

 

The Hardengervidda plateau is made up of a series of relatively gradual ascents and winding descents. With light rain and a variable headwind/crosswind, the challenge became managing my body temperature. I started by adding sleeves, but as the wind picked up the temperature continued to drop and I was forced to put on my cycling rain jacket. The jacket felt great because it kept the wind and rain off me but it acted like a parachute on the descents and was hot when I climbed. A vest and arm warmers would have been ideal but my vest had gone missing, possibly when I discarded my safety vest. A long sleeve base layer might have also been a good alternative for the ride. 

 

As a bigger athlete (6’,5”, 200lbs) I’m slower on the ascents but I try to make the most of my weight on the descents. After the climb out of Eidfjord I felt like I had my work cut out for me and I was keen to make up as much ground as I could. Unfortunately, I ran into a bit of congestion on some of the descents. Occasionally support vehicles would get stuck behind athletes and unless there was a long, open passing section, they would have to slow down. This meant the next athlete would also have to slow down and wait for the vehicle to pass or an opportunity to pass the vehicle(s) and rider.

 

Otherwise, the ride was going smoothly. I hit Geilo, the halfway point, before I knew it. Charlie and I had ridden the first portion of this section a little over a week before, so I knew I was approaching the next set of long hills. My nutrition was feeling good; 1 gel every 20min and 2 salt pills every hour. My fluids were harder to monitor because I was drinking water out of the water bottles behind my seat when I climbed as well as out of my Torpedo when I was in aero. I would often exchange bottles that weren’t totally empty just to make sure I had water if I needed it. My hamstrings would occasionally tighten up or get a little sore on some of the long climbs but getting out of the saddle to improve circulation seemed to help.

 

It wasn’t until the last long climb up to Imingfjell that I hit severe whether. My support had received a text saying all athletes had to put their safety vest on because there was heavy fog and rain up ahead. As I approached the final climb I could see the weather they were talking about and I was riding straight into it. Frustrated and tired of taking my jacket on and off, I stopped one more time to put my jacket and safety vest back on. ¾ of the way up the climb it started to rain and I was slowly engulfed in fog. The riders and most of the support vehicles seemed to disappear. As I came over the top of Imingfjell the temperature continued to drop, the rain got heavier and then it eventually turned to hail. It was slow going but I knew it was the last hill and I just needed to keep moving. The thick fog and weather kept up for the last hour and a half of the ride, almost all the way down into T2.

 

The last 20-30km was downhill but the road was some of the worst on the bike course. The asphalt was relatively smooth but there were occasional potholes and large bumps, which made it extremely unpredictable. The combination of the fog, wet roads, cold hands and fatigue made for a pretty dicey descent. Nevertheless, I tried to maintain my speed and kept pushing to get into T2 as fast as I could.

 

T2 – 00:04:46

 

Getting into T2 was even better than I could have imagined. While it was still overcast the rain was behind us and the temperature was significantly warmer. I actually beat my support into transition, so despite a bit of confusion I quickly found a place to put my bike down and started taking my helmet and shoes off. Within a couple of minutes Charlie arrived with my running shoes and running gear. I got my shoes on, had two cups of warm honey water and I was off.

 

The Run – 05:55:13

The first part of the run is 25km of flat paved road and I started off feeling really good… probably too good. After the first 25km athletes hit Zombie hill – 8km of switchback and the start of the 1650m ascent to the top of Gaustatoppen. The expectation, and my plan, was to run the first 25km and then walk Zombie Hill and run to the final checkpoint. I started the run at a sub 4:30/km pace (significantly faster than the 5:10-5:20 I should have been running)… but in the back of my mind I was thinking maybe… maybe this is what happens when you’re disciplined on the bike… maybe I can hold this pace… it’s only 25km. Rookie mistake! After an hour of cruising along, feeling great, it started to get hard and I knew I was in trouble. I struggled to stay below a 5:30/km pace and I began to doubt whether I could run the full 25km. The last 5 km were slow and painful.

 

Thanks only to stubborn determination I ran the full 25km. I really didn’t expect to be so relieved to start the notorious Zombie Hill. I quickly transitioned to walking and Charlie caught up to me to replace my water. At that point I made it clear to her that I needed her to walk with me. My body was feeling subpar to say the least and I needed the distraction. Most of the climb was a slow walk, occasionally jogging the corners of the switchbacks. I’m sure we were passed by at least the half dozen athletes that I had passed on the first section of the run if not a couple more. Nevertheless, I felt comfortable that I was still within the first 100 athletes. The goal was to pull myself back together and make sure I was fit to clear the final checkpoint.  I continued to drink, take the occasional gel and nibble on the snacks from the walking canteen that was Charlie. It wasn’t until we reached the top of Zombie Hill, the 32.5km check point, when Charlie got me a couple pieces of bread that I really started to come around. At 35km I started to run again. Despite feeling like I was comfortably within the 160 cut off, I was feeling strong enough to run and wanted to run the end of the paved portion of the run course.

 

When I reached the final checkpoint at 37.5km, the race official told me I was around the 85^th athlete and I could go to the top of Gaustatoppen. The sense of ease those words produced was amazing. We repacked my bag, I changed into a dry pair of tri shorts (I was still wearing the soaked bib shorts from the ride and I had one hell of a rash) and we slowly started the final ascent up into the wind and clouds. The trail was rugged and extremely rocky. The prospect of running, even walking quickly, was completely beyond me. Descending supporters greeted us with encouragement, mostly in Norwegian and about 30min from the top we ran into a Dutch supporter I had met the day before. He told us when you hit the stairs you’re there, so just remember to enjoy every last step. As we rounded the corner and started the stairs to the finish line the wind blew the cloud off the mountain giving us a glimpse of the rocky mountain below and the iconic tower above. It was surreal.  Sure enough, climbing the flat steps to the finish line was bitter sweet; a welcome relief for my aching legs but the end of something I had dreamed about for years. It was impossible to capture enough of that moment. Walking onto the small, stone landing to finish the Norseman was absolutely unbelievable.   

 

Post Race

To my disbelief the door next to the finish line was a small chalet. On the way in I received an amazing bowl of hearty, chicken soup and inside, the two small rooms were full of an indescribable sense of satisfaction. Athletes and supporters shared stories and congratulated familiar faces from the day. We stayed there for about 45 minutes before starting to make our way down. Thankfully the train was open to athletes this year. Unfortunately, it couldn’t accommodate the supporters but Charlie insists she enjoyed the hike down, cheering on the athletes coming up and finally getting a clear view of Gaustatoppen as the sun started to set.

 

The Norseman was an incredible experience, one that I will never forget. I owe a big thank you to everyone who advised, encouraged and supported me through this process and the event. I honestly don’t know what race is next or what you do after the Norseman… but given the opportunity I would love to go back.