This page contains accounts sent to us by Arthur Puckrin of Cleveland Biketraks Tri Club, an ultra-distance triathlon specialist, of his races around the world over distances of up to ten times the standard ironman distance of 2.4mls swim / 112mls bike / 26.2mls run! In the following order the reports are:- 1. World Quintuple Ironman Championships, Mexico. 6-12/11/05 2. World Cup Triple Ironman, Lake Anna, Virginia. 7/8/9 Oct 05. 3. World Cup Double Ironman, Quebec. 8/9 July 05 4. 24 hours in the saddle. (South American 24 hour cycling champs - 7th may 05 5. Three Weeks in Paradise (The Deca-Ironman World Championships) - 13-27 Nov 04 6. World Cup Triple Ironman, Lake Anna, Virginia. 8/9/10 Oct 04 7. World Cup Double Ironman, Quebec. 9/10 July 04 THE WORLD QUINTUPLE IRONMAN TRIATHLON CHAMPIONSHIPS, MEXICO 6 - 12 NOVEMBER 2005 12 mile swim, 560 mile bike, and 131 mile run by Arthur Puckrin After a 24 hour journey from England we were pleased to be met by Denise Andonie, daughter of our host, race organiser, Mr Jorge Andonie. We had left a cold England and arrived in a very hot climate at Monterrey, Mexico. We soon made ourselves at home in the Sports Village. Although Mexico is a third world country, its sports facilities are second to none and within 800 metres we had a Cycling Velodrome, an American Football Stadium and a Baseball Stadium plus 50 brand new tennis courts with coaching. Also Monterrey has several 50 metre swimming pools. I swiftly put my bike together and tried a ride round the track which was only 150 yards from our accommodation in the Sports Village. Fortunately both the bike and myself had survived the journey intact. I also acclimatised by walking the 2 miles to the shops and back each day, ‘carbo loading’ at the “Sirloin Steakhouse which allowed unlimited eating once you had paid for your steak. It was a very good bargain for hungry triathletes. The day before race day, we had our ‘blood doping’ and drug testing ordeal with the doctors. Always a problem for me as they seem to find it difficult to extract blood from my arms. With that over, the race should be no problem according to my support crew and coach, Mary. Race day soon arrived and at 10 am we were taken to the swimming pool for a prompt start at 12 noon. I made a steady start and after 2 hours felt good with a nice steady swim. However, there must have been some chemical in the water which disagreed with me because I started to feel very ill. I felt I was not going to be able to complete the swim. I came out of the water, but I remembered the words of the Irish doctor in Hawaii when I was having difficulties. He said, just do 1000 metres then have a rest, something to eat and drink and then do another 1000 metres. I did this for a while, and noticed that other swimmers were being sick and leaving the water. After a while things improved and I managed 2000 metres, then a bit more and finally, I was only left with 7000 metres which I swam to the finish. Very slow at 11 hours 45 minutes, but at least I had completed the swim. We now had a taxi ride to the start of the bicycle course and I took advantage of this to have something to eat and drink. It was now after midnight, but I would try and complete at least half of the bike ride before I rested. I started my 560 mile ride and soon began to catch and lap the leaders, Emmanual Conraux of France and Todd Heady from the USA. I had severe indigestion following the swim and could not eat or drink anything for about 6 hours. I had to allow my stomach to empty. I rode all through the night, but next morning I did stop for some scrambled eggs, bread and soup. I also ate Ritz crackers, cheese, peanut bars and tinned pears. Once my stomach had settled down, I felt all right and rode at a good pace, stopping for a short while for the mandatory medical check. I felt sure the doctor would say I was unfit to continue, but as long as I could stand, I was fit enough to race. The day passed slowly and the miles to be covered slowly decreased, eventually I reached 280 miles and I would have a sleep. Into bed for 5 hours, and then off again. A brief stop for breakfast of eggs and bread and tea, and then away I went. I was still maintaining my pace, but was feeling very lonely, and was glad of an excuse to stop for food and chat every 40 miles or so. Eventually the day and the miles passed into the night with still a long way to go but hopefully I would complete the bike course before midnight. I did, just, very weary but I had moved up to 7th position. Could I improve this on the run? Something to eat and drink, into my running kit and away, no sleep this time, I would try and finish it off. I had been unable to run since July due to an Achilles tendon injury, but I could walk in my walking boots, and I had managed a few walks to harden my fet. I stopped every lap for something to eat and drink. I drank Coke, Seven Up, tea, coffee, water, Powerade, and I ate chicken & chips, eggs and bread, jam sandwiches and Ritz crackers and butter, melon and pears. As I approached the half-way mark, my body craved sleep. I was nodding off whilst walking. I had to have a short sleep, so into the haven of bed for 2 hours and then away again. I only managed a short distance before I had to have another short sleep, but now it was daylight on the 4th day, my pace was slowing, my feet were deteriorating fast. I had to stop and let the doctor have a look at them. He burst my blisters and bandaged each foot and said, “You will sleep now”. I said I had 50 miles to cover before I could sleep. He looked at me in dismay, but off I went. I had now changed into one boot and one sandal and after a few more laps into both sandals, which had no heels or toes. My pace slowed further, but I was making ground and the miles to cover were coming down. I was not eating much now, just slowly grinding out the miles. I walked a few laps with Todd Heady, USA, whose early lead had disappeared, and Beat Knetchle, Switzerland. We were all suffering in the heat and with our feet, but we would somehow reach the finish. On entering this event, my original plan had been to complete the swim and bike in 2 days, and then to do what I could on the run as I calculated that I should have been no lower than in second place. However, with my Achilles injury, I knew that whatever lead I had after the bike, I would be run down long before the finish. After my difficulties in the swim I altered my plan and extended the time for the swim and bike to 2½ days. This would allow me over 3 days to the finish, which I suspected I would need to complete the run in comfort and so it proved, although in the event the run proved anything but comfortable. Although everyone tries their best to win the event, as time goes on, the competition is not with other athletes, but with the event itself. Instead of trying to overtake each other, we actively help each other to finish. We cheer each other on regardless of position as we all want each other to do well and reach the finish line. As the end nears, I am overdosing on painkillers, which seem to have very little effect. The doctor warns me to drink plenty of water to avoid damage to my kidneys. However, I am advised by another doctor that so long as I can pee, my kidneys are all right. The pain in my feet becomes intense. Every time I stop it becomes more difficult to start again. It takes at least one mile of walking before my feet loosen up and the pain diminishes. We are all walking round like zombies. No one speaks much, we are all involved in a personal battle for survival. The first night of the run, after dark, I was surprised to be accompanied by a mysterious lady. We talked a while, time passed, and the miles passed. I was glad of her company, but who was she? Just before midnight she disappeared. On I went alone. The next night, just after dark, she appeared again. Who was she? Was she only a dream, or was she a product of my exhausted mind? She spoke English to me, fluent French to Alain Dupuis, Italian to Vincenzo and Spanish to Carlos. She accompanied us for many miles, then just before midnight she disappeared. Could she be only a dream? On the third night again just after dark she appeared. I was very tired at this stage, only crawling along, but she kept me company and the miles went from under my feet. She told me she had to leave early to catch a plane to Mexico City, but she seemed in no hurry to leave. But, again, just before midnight, like some latter-day Cinderella, she vanished, but instead of leaving a glass slipper, she left behind a pair of cycling shorts which our Italian Lothario, Vincenzo, (a noted cross-dresser) had enticed her to give him on the pretext that his own were too small???? (I shall look out for their appearance on Vincenzo in future races). My feet were agonising now as the finish approached. I was joined by Alonzo, a late addition to my support crew. I knew if I stopped and slept it would be agony to start again, but I was falling asleep on my feet. Alonzo begged me to sleep, but there was only less than half a marathon to go. I would complete it somehow. We were now on the fifth day. My feet were now infected and I had open wounds in the bottom of my feet. Fortunately I could not see them too well, but the end was in sight. Alonzo was trying to teach me Spanish to keep me awake. I told him my brain was exhausted as well as my body. Eventually the last lap came. I completed it somehow. Run time 3 days 0 hrs 38 mins 3 secs Total time 5 days, 12 hours, 12 minutes and 3 seconds. There was a large turnout to cheer me as I crossed the finish line even though it was about 1 am. I had a telephone call from my mysterious friend in Mexico City. Somehow she had learned of my success. Perhaps she was real after all. The emotional demands of the event were clear as many were in tears after reaching the haven of the tape, but I felt only relief that my agony was over. However, 2 days later I still could not walk and had to be carried to the closing ceremony. Thanks to Mary, my support crew, who somehow got me over the finish line despite all difficulties, and thanks to Jorge Andonie, his family and team who provided a great festival of sport and a superbly organised event. It was a pleasure to be in Mexico. If you can dream - and not make dreams your master, If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; . . . . If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!” . . . . If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it, And - which is more - you’ll be a Man my son! Extracts from ‘If’ by Rudyard Kipling Results: - MEN 01 Emmanuel Conraux - France - 3 days 1 hr 18 mins 16 secs 02 Sergio Cordeiro – Brazil - 3 days 9 hrs 29 mins 26 secs 03 Guy Rossi – France - 3 days 18 hrs 57 mins 15 secs 04 Hildeberto Villa – Mexico - 3 days 23 hrs 17 mins 56 secs 05 Michael Ward – Guernsey - 4 days 3 hrs 45 mins 25 secs 06 Beat Knetchle – Switzerland - 4 days 7 hrs 54 mins 4 secs 07 Todd Heady – USA - 4 days 9 hrs 11 mins 6 secs 08 Alain Dupuis – France - 4 days 13 hrs 6 mins 45 secs 09 Harn Wei Kua – Singapore - 4 days 13 hrs 19 mins 51 secs 10 Arthur Puckrin – England - 5 days 12 hrs 12 mins 5 secs 11 Gilberto Cerda – Mexico - 5 days 16 hrs 15 mins 45 secs 12 Todd Zagursky – USA - 5 days 22 hrs 35 mins 2 secs 13 Vincenzo Catalano – Italy - 6 days 7 hrs 45 mins 21 secs 14 Alfredo Muñoz – Mexico - 7 days 3 hrs 59 mins 48 secs 15 Carlos Cortes – Mexico – DNF Results: - WOMEN 01 Surays Oliver - Great Britain - 5 days 4 hrs 8 mins 7 secs 02 Eileen Steil – USA - 5 days 11 hrs 39 mins 16 secs 03 Manuela Resnik – Austria - 5 days 18 hrs 17 mins 23 secs 04 Maria Luisa Valdez – Mexico - 7 days 4 hrs 47 mins 58 secs 05 Silvia Andonie – Mexico - DNF WORLD CUP TRIPLE IRONMAN, LAKE ANNA, VIRGINIA 7TH, 8TH and 9TH October 2005 8 mile swim, 336 mile bike and 80 mile run After our 20 hour journey from England we were pleased to be met by our host and support crew, Carl, at Dulles Airport, Washington. After a short stop to buy food, we soon reached our home for the next few days, a cabin in the grounds of Lake Anna State Park, a short distance from the start of the race. Something to eat and a long sleep were necessary after our long journey and the next morning we felt much better. We had a few days to become acclimatised before the race start and managed a visit to historic Fredericksburg, the site of many of the major battles of the American Civil War. The course at Lake Anna is the most beautiful of all the settings for the Ultra Distance Triathlon races anywhere in the world, but the course is also the most difficult. It takes place in a forest with mature trees about 80 feet high, spectacular during the day but pitch black at night. It is also up and down hill with very little on level ground. I managed a daily ride through the woods, to make sure that both the bike and I had survived the journey. Although I was confident of my bike riding skills, I had not been able to do any running since the British Ironman Championships in July when I had damaged my Achilles tendon. Despite all my efforts, it had refused to heal. All the training I had been able to do was a few short walks. I could not wear my running shoes, but could walk in a pair of hiking boots. I also hoped to be able to run downhill. Race day was fast approaching. It had not rained in this area of Virginia for the past 6 weeks, and the lake was very low. I was tempted to try a swim, but patches of green algae, so thick they looked like green paint soon dissuaded me. Thursday night we had the briefing and introduction to the other competitors, mainly young Americans, with a few from France Germany and Switzerland and Sergio from Brazil. I was the only Briton. Up at 3 am on Friday (it was raining) for a start in the dark at 7 am. It was calm and off we went and I could just about see where I was going. I tried to swim easily right at the back, I knew there was no hurry and the main aim was to conserve energy at this early stage and just manage to survive the swim. About every hour I stopped for a quick drink of energy drink to keep up my strength. I swam easily in the calm water, but when I was about ¾ of the way through the swim, it started to become much colder and the waves started to rise. The rain, which had been steady since the start and which I had hardly noticed, became very heavy, so much so that I could not see where I was going. Luckily, we were near the end, sometimes I could see a body pass me going the opposite way, so I assumed I was on the correct course. We were more or less parallel to the shore so I should be alright. I noticed that the referees’ boat had been blown onto the shore. The waves became heavier and the swell larger, not much further to go or I would not have survived the swim. Eventually, the end - onto the shore after 6 hours 18 minutes. Change, something to eat and drink and onto the bike. The rain became torrential. It was going to be an even longer and harder ride than ever before, especially as the officials tent and other shelters and all the food had been blown down. The bike The storm, which was apparently a northern off-shoot from Hurricane Katrina, would soon cease, or so I hoped. The rain lashed into my face making it difficult to see. Normally the forest through which we ride is quite spectacular, but now the 80 foot high trees were shedding their leaves in large numbers and with the rain running down the road in rivers, I was worried about crashing, and it was fortunate that no one did crash during the event. I passed the body of a 6 foot long Copperhead snake which had been crushed by a truck on the road. I hoped I would not meet too many of his brothers at night during the run. I managed to ride about a hundred miles before it became dark. My support crew were at the bottom of the climb passing me coffee and soup which I drank and then dropped off the cups before the climb and, as at this point I was only going at walking pace, it was an easy manoeuvre, however, this would not be possible in the dark. As soon as night fell, it became pitch black, with only our cycle lamps to light the way, and especially difficult when you were blinded by the headlights from passing traffic. My eyes started to close with the beating they were taking from the heavy rain. I felt as if I had 2 black eyes, and indeed it looked like that. The Doctor said it needed “cold compresses”, but this was obviously impossible whilst riding. Halfway, I decided to stop for 2 hours sleep. It was still raining heavily and hopefully when I awoke dawn would be close. I laid down in my wet clothes in the tent and was instantly asleep. If I was lucky no one would wake me. After 3 hours I was awake, but I could hear the rain lashing on the tent and hoped I had been forgotten, but no such luck. A cup of coffee, some Ritz crackers and cheese, and soup and off I went. There were not many riders on the track now, just a few hardy souls keeping going. Soon it was light, but the rain remained. I noticed that a number of support crews had abandoned their shoes for bare feet, rolled up their trousers and were paddling ankle deep in water and mud at the side of the road. The day slowly passed and eventually the last few miles, then I was off the bike. More food then onto the run. 28 hours 40 minutes for the bike. I had punctured with 10 miles to go, which added to the general misery. The run I had damaged my Achilles tendon doing the British Ironman in July and it refused to heal, so I had done no running for nearly 3 months. Only in the last 3 weeks had I managed a few one mile walks round the streets. I could not wear my running shoes, only a pair of hiking boots which would protect my feet. I started off walking a few laps with Cris, one of my support crew. I had hoped to manage at least half a marathon before dark, but because of the delay caused by the rain and strong winds I could only manage 2 miles. In addition my feet were very soft after 34 hours in water. However, I did manage to keep going all night, walking up hill and running down. The woods were full of deer, but the rain kept them under cover, also the Copperhead snakes I was pleased to note. Eventually daylight came, my second night on the go. I felt alright, but my feet were now very sore. I ate chocolate bars, Ritz crackers and cheese, bananas, tinned pears and soup, and drank tea coffee and 7-Up. I decided the Doctor had better have a look at my feet, which were covered in blisters. He said, “I was in the Special Forces and we used Duck tape and super glue”. As he was tending to my feet, I fell asleep for a few minutes as it did not hurt a bit. Carl and I were now left to do the last 20 miles. Rather surprisingly, I felt quite good. My tendons did not hurt, I was running well and I would soon finish. It was now dark again, the third night, on and on I went. The course looked completely different at night and I was not quite sure where I was. However, Carl was keeping me company in his car and stopped at each turning point to show me the way. He said he hoped I would not wander off into the woods to look for bears. Eventually, at about 1 am, I finished by the light of Carl’s headlamps. It had taken 67 hours (32 hours for the run). I would sleep in the plane on the way home. Thanks to the world’s best support crew – Mary, Carl and Cris – who got me across the finish line, and to Steve Kirby and his crew who provided a superb event despite all the difficulties. See you next year. Men’s Results: 1 Beat Knechtle … Switzerland 2 Garrett Mulrooney … USA 3 Jamie Patrick … USA 4 Arthur Puckrin … Great Britain World Cup Double Ironman Triathlon 8th and 9th July 2005 – Quebec 5 mile swim / 224 mile bike / 52 mile run by Arthur Puckrin After our 24 hour journey from Teesside we were pleased to be met by our host, race organiser Jean Pierre Morin at Quebec Airport and then it was a short journey to our spartan but cheap student accommodation at the Cejep Levis Lauzon, a short distance from the race track. Despite our lack of sleep we were up at 5.30am for breakfast and later to unpack the bike. I was pleased to find that it had survived the journey intact despite the damage done to the bike boxes. After breakfast I had a short ride over the bike course to make sure that both the bike and myself were in good shape. I had a few days to rest and recover from the “Jet Lag” and managed to have a guided tour around No.1 Fort, which was built by the British Army in 1871 to protect Canada from attack by the newly independent USA. Just as well it was never put to the test, I thought, as it was doubtful if it could have withstood a determined attack. Later in the week it became very windy and as I looked at the huge waves in the St. Lawrence river in which we were to swim I thought it doubtful if canoes could survive in it, never mind swimmers. Race day soon arrived and we were up early for a trip to set up the bike transition and then to the swim start which was 8 miles up river. The wind had dropped and the water was very calm and smooth as we set out promptly at 9.45am. We quickly eased down river and were warned by the race referee to keep to the side as the current was very strong and if we missed the turning buoy it would not be possible to swim back against the current. I did as advised and kept close to the shore to hopefully find a slight back eddy, which would help my swim to the exit point. At last I was out, and then a long run to the bike transition for a drink and something to eat before the long, hard ride ahead. 2 hours 5 minutes for the swim. Onto the bike. The sun was very hot now and I found it impossible to ride at more than 15mph. What had happened? I must have tired myself out during the swim. Were my brakes binding on? A quick look – no, they seemed to be ok. It must be me. I kept going for 25 miles, still slowly. At last, when one or two of the slower riders overtook me I decided something must be done. A pit stop and change to my spare wheel. Immediately I was up to 20mph, now I could make up some time ( a later inspection showed that my tyre had shredded on the inside and must have been catching on the forks ). I kept going and the hours and miles passed. It was very hot and at about 80 miles I started to feel extremely hungry. I was so hungry I decided to stop and have something to eat although it was very early in the proceedings. I must eat. I stopped and had 2 tins of pears and a box of Ritz crackers. That felt better. The trouble is that when you stop you want to stop again and I was constantly tempted to stop and eat. However, I resisted, telling myself that every time I stopped I was making the ride last longer, so I kept going. Eventually the completed miles mounted up and the journey became smaller. I had completed 150 miles when it became completely dark. One side of the track was new and smooth but the other, along a main road was very rough with many sunken manholes which were difficult to avoid in the dark. I avoided any further mishap and eventually the end came. I was in 7th place, 13 hours 15 minutes for the bike. Slow for me but at least I was off the bike. Now for something to eat and drink, a change of clothes, and off onto the run. It was about 1.30am and to my surprise the running track was lined with spectators cheering us on. Although, as it was completely dark and they could not see anyone clearly, the applause was muted. When it became light at about 4am most of the spectators had fallen asleep. I ran steadily, stopping each lap to eat and drink. It was cloudy and I hoped it would not become too hot otherwise we would suffer as soon as the sun rose. My feet were starting to feel very sore so just before half-way I changed to my thick-soled walking boots to protect my feet. Daylight came and it started to rain, at least it would be reasonably cool. The miles fell steadily behind me, I was going to reach the finish well within the time limit. The rain became heavier and heavier after each lap. The water level on the track started to rise, this was becoming too much of a good thing! Once daylight came my support crew increased to about 6 or 7. They took turns to do a lap with me to keep me going and this way we did maintain a fair speed. Although the water level was rising and I was getting colder I saw no point in changing my clothes and getting everything else wet. As long as I kept moving I was not too cold. Eventually the last lap arrived. I finished in 30 hours 24 minutes having taken 14 hours 35 minutes for the run. A sit down and a cup of tea equals happiness after 30 hours on the go! Thanks to Mary and Geoffrey my support crew without whose assistance I would not have survived and to my canoe guide and to Jean-Pierre Morin and his team who organised a superb event. Results. 1. Didier Wolosyn … France … 21.48.42 2. Sergio Cordeiro … Brazil … 22.35.32 3. Guy Rossi … France … 24.17.28 4. Rene Sergerie … Canada … 25.07.12 5. Tony Fisher … Great Britain … 26.34.53 6. Gerry Fassett … Canada … 26.35.10 7. Yves Beauchamp … Canada … 27.41.19 8. Vincenzo Catalano … Italy … 30.08.43 9. Arthur Puckrin … Great Britain … 30.24.43 10 . Astrid Benohr … Germany … 30.41.49 24 Hours In The Saddle by Arthur Puckrin After a 24 hour journey from Teesside I was pleased to be met by my host and race organiser, Jorge Andonie at Monterrey Airport. Unfortunately my bicycle remained at Amsterdam Airport when it failed to accompany me on the plane! I was assured it would be delivered in two days. I had brought the English weather with me said Mr Andonie as unusually for Mexico it was damp and cold and indeed remained so all week. I stayed in the sports village with the Mexican volley-ball team. Mexico may be a poor country but their sports facilities are a revelation. There were 50 tennis courts all in excellent and new condition and within half a mile of the sports village are three stadia for cycling – a velodrome and the others for Baseball and American Football. The accommodation was basic, but cheap, cheerful and acceptable. Sure enough after two days my bike did arrive and I decided that I would either have to ride in the rain or not at all. I quite fancied my chances if the weather remained the same, I could not see the warm-blooded South Americans enjoying 24 hours in the damp, wet and cold conditions. Although I had been training throughout the English winter I was not looking forward to it myself, it looked like being a long and cold 24 hours. My bike was virtually unridden. I had taken it from it’s winter quarters, had it cleaned and serviced and had taken it out for a ride a week before I travelled to Mexico. Whilst stationary at a roundabout waiting for oncoming traffic to clear I was hurled to the ground, my rear wheel smashed in three places. I looked round. I had been hit by a car. I was pleased to notice that such was the force of the collision that the front of the car had fallen off. I had lost a lot of skin and had a few bruises but apart from feeling sore for a few days I seemed to be OK. The bike needed a rear wheel and other repairs but fortunately I managed to get it mobile in time to travel. Race day dawned, dark, grey and wet. Should I wear my wet weather gear? However, about lunchtime the sun came out. We were off about twenty minutes late at 12.20pm with the adrenalin flowing. I made a good start, not quick enough because there was a group of five ahead of me including representatives of teams of ten (in addition to the individual race there was also a team relay race). I could beat all these guys, I told myself and burst past them. I was averaging 20 mph for the first 60 miles and although the pace gradually dropped I was still in the lead and feeling comfortable at 100 miles reached in 5 hours and 23 minutes. It was now extremely hot and I began to feel the pace. I would ride easily for a while and then I would recover, so I thought. Then a strange thing happened. My legs were not strong enough to turn the pedals. Somehow I got to the end of the lap and got off the bike, I now felt really unwell. I decided I would have to lie down which I did. I had something to eat but still felt unwell. After travelling all this distance it seemed I was not going to complete the course. After two and a half hours I had more to eat and decided I felt better. There was plenty of time, the race continued for another 15 hours. I decided I would try to ride a few miles and see how I felt. It was now dark, I was in last place but at least I was moving. After a while I decided that I did not feel too bad. It was cooler and my speed increased. I looked at my speedo – 20 mph – I must be feeling a lot better. Who had the bright idea of completing a 24 hour ride, I asked myself. There was a shout from my support crew. It was half way and I was in second place 25 miles behind the leader – no. 58. I had seen no 58 and knew he was tiring. I told myself that we would all go through a bad patch at some stage during the 24 hours and I had had mine. It was now 2 am, much cooler, I was spinning round at 20mph feeling good and counting down the laps to the leader. The hours passed by slowly, fatigue mounted but I was gaining, lapping the leader every few laps. I knew that eventually I would reach him. I had asked my support crew to keep me notified about the time passing. They shouted out the time at each hour. It seemed a long way – 11 hours, 10 hours, 9 hours. Eventually at 4 am I noticed that no. 58 had stopped for food. At last I had him. I had closed to about 15 miles but now I could reach him much quicker. I was asked to stop for food but I was not stopping now, I would not stop until I had a good lead. Eventually at about 5 am I had him. I was in the lead. I would build up a lead of about 10 miles before I dared to stop as I knew he might be revitalised once it became daylight and he realised there was not much further to go. There were not many riders on the track now, I had a clear run. I must stop at some stage or risk running out of fuel. I noticed that no.58 had started again but he was only riding slowly, so I had a short stop for soup, coffee, jam sandwiches and then away. I had only lost two laps and soon made them up again and indeed increased my lead. There was no one else I could see who was keeping up with me so I could see no dangers from further down the field. Eventually I could see light in the sky, daylight was coming but there were still seven hours of the race to go. It seemed to be lasting forever this race but the end would surely come at some time. I rode on. I was drinking a great deal and my fast pick up was working smoothly except on one occasion when I dropped the drinking bottle but I was pouring fluid down my throat and I seemed to be OK although I did not eat very much, just a few bananas, jam sandwiches, soup and bread. Cold drinks went down a treat. I did have two coffee stops late on when it was clear I had a good lead, just to break up the time a little bit, so I did lose a few laps towards the end. As the sun rose it became very hot again but the end was near now. When I looked at the times afterwards I was surprised to see that my lap times had been very consistent throughout the 24 hours. No. 58, I discovered was Jesus Sigala, a 40 year old from Santa Catarina. We rode together for the last few laps and eventually time was called and we crossed the line for the last time. I had been beaten only by four of the ten teams of ten relay riders. After the race, although I had not slept for 36 hours I found it impossible to sleep or eat. I just lay on the bed. Later on I did find the energy to pack my bike and the next day it was back to the real world. Thanks to Mary my support crew who kept me fed and watered throughout the 24 hours, to Paul Godley who repaired my bike after the accident and to Jorge Andonie and his team who organised a superb race and an excellent event. Results. 1. Arthur Puckrin. Great Britain. 592 kms. 2. Jesus Sigala. Santa Catarina. 540 kms 3. Alejandro Sigala. Santa Catarina. 4. Carlos Alberto. Monterrey. 5. Juan Gaona. Guadelupe Ladies 1. Silvia Andonie. Mexico. 330 kms 2. Juana Xapata. Guadelupe. 269 kms. Three Weeks in Paradise The Deca-Ironman Triathlon World Championship Hawaii. 13th to 27th November 2004 24 mile swim - 1120 mile bike - 262 mile run by Arthur Puckrin (GB and Cleveland BikeTraks Tri Club) After my 5th place in the World Cup Triple-Ironman Championship in Virginia I was pleased to receive an invitation to compete in the World Deca-Ironman Championship to be held in Hawaii during November 2004. After a 30 hour flight from Teesside we were met by our host, the organiser Chet "the Jet" Blanton. On our flight out the plane had flown low over the "badlands" of South Dakota - very spectacular canyons, ravines, rocky waterless wasteland - real John Wayne country which extended for thousands of square miles. I would not have wanted to trek though that. Apart from this the flight was uneventful and we arrived very tired at a hot and humid Honolulu. I certainly never expected that my triathlon career would lead me to Honolulu or to surfing on Waikiki Beach. Despite two days without sleep I found it difficult to sleep and was up making breakfast at 3 am. Fortunately I soon settled into the life - up at 5 am for a pre-dawn cycle ride over the Diamond Head pass, where in the darkness the surfers were already launching their boards. This was the only time of day when it was reasonably cool. Then I had a 30 minute swim before my second breakfast of the day. Most of the day I spent eating and carb-loading before an early bed after sunset, ready for an early start the next day. On Thursday we went out to the disused part of the Pearl Harbour Naval Base at which the event was to be held. We were dismayed to find the site was overrun with woodlice, giant centipedes, scorpions and other creatures and also there was no food, water or sanitation. The island had been the setting for the film "Jurassic Park" and all we needed were prehistoric monsters coming out of the undergrowth to make our "happiness" complete. Our first task was to visit a nearby supermarket to scour the waste bins for old cardboard boxes to make our tents more habitable. Fortunately I had taken the precaution of taking an airbed with me so the nights would not be too uncomfortable, however it was so hot and humid it was almost impossible to sleep. The first night, just before the race started, I awoke drenched with sweat and suffering from heat stroke. I got up, covered my head with ice for an hour in an attempt to cool down. I was about to withdraw, clearly conditions were impossible. However at 12 noon on Saturday 13th November I started to swim. After coming all this way I had to at least give it a try. It was incredibly hot and humid. After 2½ hours swimming I came out exhausted. I sat at the side of the pool in the shade, drinking cool drinks. I would have to withdraw. Still, I could enjoy two weeks holiday in Hawaii. After 4 hours it started to get dark and became cooler. "Should I have another swim?". "Why not?". Another hour later, again exhausted, I came out. The Irish coach had a go at me. "Your problems are psychological, not physical", he said. "Do it in 1000m stints, then have a rest and do another 1000m". I decided to give it one last go and found that now it was night and cooler I was swimming quite well. After 26 hours and 45 minutes I got out of the pool. I was unsteady on my feet and had lost a lot of skin on my back after all that time in the water but I got onto the bike and rode onto the race track. I was a bit unsteady but rode for 10 miles to get used to the course. I decided I had better have something to eat before it got completely dark and then as I was about to resume cycling one of the people manning the computer timing equipment said to me as a casual aside "Well, we are going now, the machine is going to be switched off, you will have to manually count your laps". I was astounded at this and said "The race has been going for 36 hours, it has another 12 days to go, you can't do that". She said "Well don't shout at me, we haven't been paid, it's not our fault". I shouted to everyone to stop riding as they finished the lap. Obviously there was no point in riding if the laps were not being counted. We had an urgent meeting with Steve Foster, the joint organiser with Chet and owner of the timing equipment. Steve told us he was not going to switch off the machine but that we would have to man it and supply and cook our own food as the volunteers promised by Chet had not appeared. After some discussion we organised a rota for this and the race continued, although under a cloud. It was now completely dark, a strong wind was blowing and tree branches were coming down onto the course. Although Chet had promised the course would be fully lit there was a complete absence of lights. After one lap I decided it was too dangerous and retired for the night. Desmond Kiernan of Ireland was not so lucky, he was hit by a falling tree on his helmet and was fortunate to escape serious injury. Next day at 6 am as soon as it became light I started my ride. It soon became very hot and I rode with a bag of ice in my helmet in an attempt to keep cool. Most of the competitors had arrived with either their wives, girlfriends, mothers, fathers or clubmates as support crew but double and triple Ironman World Record Holder Louis Wildpanner from Austria had rather incongruously a support crew of 15 and had designs on the world record. In the conditions I thought this was much too optimistic, but an unknown Australian, Brock McKinley, made this purely academic as he blew Louis and everyone else away on the cycle course. At times he was averaging 27 mph for the 1120 mile route and he established a big lead over Louis in second position. I rode with Brock for a few laps and complimented him on his riding. He thought Louis would overtake him on the run but I told him not to be so sure because Louis had won all his races on the cycle leg. This time he had been completely blown away and his confidence would surely be in tatters. If Brock kept his nerve and a steady speed he must have a good chance and probably his only chance of becoming world champion. He told me that he had only been able to enter the race at the last minute when his brother and support crew had been posted to Pearl Harbour, thus saving him the expense of an air ticket. Sure enough Louis retired after 71 miles of the run leaving Brock with a 54 mile lead over the next competitor. But alas Brock had also exhausted himself and struggled to eventually finish in third place. Meanwhile I was finding conditions very difficult. It was impossible to sleep during the day in the intense heat. The coolest place was on the bike when at least there was some wind to cool you down. Every night the mosquitoes made a meal of your body. The heat was such that my feet were swollen and I had to cut my cycling shoes to ease blisters on my toes. Before I had reached 200 miles I developed saddle sores but fortunately I was able to change to my spare saddle and that made things easier, or at least less painful. The days went by, "Eventually these two weeks will come to an end" I told myself, "in the meantime, keep pedalling". Nearly every night, just about midnight, a white rabbit would appear at the far end of the lap. He ran across the road in front of Desmond and was nearly rabbit pie. I waited for him to say "I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date", but he remained silent! There were also many mongoose on the course and I thought one of them would eat the rabbit, but he stayed alive and kept appearing in the same place at the same time. I started each day usually about 3.30am with 2 eggs, fried bread and 2 pancakes made by Chris our physio who had found new fame as a stand-in cook. I could only eat cold food later in the day due to the extreme heat. I survived on tinned pears, melon, chicken sandwiches, chocolate bars from the cool box and Ritz crackers. To drink I had orange juice, gatorade and tea. The days and miles came and went. "Eventually this must come to an end" I thought, and on Saturday evening it did. Off the bike and onto the run. The pain in my backside would diminish, whereas the pain in my feet was about to begin. I noticed that as they came off the bike those who ran the most “died” earliest, so I decided to walk for at least the first two days to give my body a chance to recover. Robert Holmes and I walked together in stout walking boots with a thick sole to give our feet some protection from the heat of the track. This strategy, which had been successful two years ago in Mexico did not work this time, probably because it was hot 24 hours a day whereas in Mexico it was cold at night.My feet blistered almost immediately, and I had to revert to my walking sandals which I had hoped to keep for the last two days when my feet would have swollen. On the eighth day of our ordeal Pascal Jolly was disqualified for taking short cuts across the track. He was caught “red-handed” when race organiser Chet waited for him together with a witness half way along the short cut. This was foolish behaviour as he only had to finish to become overall champion for 2004 as he had won three other races during the year. It was also unfortunate that the first and second to finish later accused each other of taking the same short cut but as there was no independent evidence the result was allowed to stand. We only needed a major drug scandal now to bring the race into absolute disrepute and although allegations were made, no doctor was present and nor were any drugs tests carried out contrary to what was stated on the race prospectus. Three days to go and I was now in a good position, going strongly and over half way. Although my feet were blistered badly I was sure to finish, or so I thought. Unfortunately my blisters became infected and walking very painful. This slowed me down a lot and I fell behind, it was impossible to make up time as I was going for nearly 24 hours a day. The only time it became comparatively cool was in the early hours of the morning between 4 am and 8 am when, due to the clear skies, you could admire the great constellations of Orion, the mighty hunter of Greek mythology, and the Great Bear, shining brightly in the sky above. Towards the end a full moon appeared and shone, appropriately enough, on the “lunatics” endlessly circling the track below. During the day, brightly coloured Cardinal birds with their red caps entertained us by walking across the road as we passed. Day 14 arrives at last, we finish at 12.45pm. My feet are in better condition after I have taken antibiotics to kill the infection, but moving is still painful. I cannot finish in time, but resolve to do as much as possible. I am still strong, but with only 180 miles covered and 82 still to go the finish is called and I cross the line for the last time. I examine my feet and ankles for the first time in three days. I am horrified to discover they have swollen to twice their normal size. Still, for the last 14 days I have broken bread with the rest of the world. I thank Steve Foster for his efforts in organising the race and for working the timing equipment despite all the difficulties. He tells me “You people must be sick”. Later he and his wife do not appear at the presentation and closing ceremony, which is left to Chet Blanton. I thank him for his efforts, but for him there would be no race and no chance to see Hawaii. Thanks to Mary, my support crew who fed and watered me for 14 days and kept me going. Results:- 1. Mario Rodrigues, Mexico, 9 days 2 hours 38 minutes 2. Giacomo Maritati, Italy, 9 days 13 hours 54 minutes 3. Brock McKinley, Australia, 9 days 19 hours 19 minutes 11. Jason Sawyer, GB, 12 days 20 hours 21 minutes 12 Robert Holmes, GB, 13 days 4 hours 18 minutes 16. Suraya Oliver, GB, 13 days 12 hours 59 minutes (1st lady and overall IUTA Ultra Distance Champion for 2004) 21 Arthur Puckrin, GB, 24mls swim / 1120mls bike / 180mls run in 14 days. World Cup Triple Ironman Championship, Lake Anna, Virginia, USA – 8,9 & 10 October 2004. (8 mile swim – 336 mile bike – 80 mile run) by Arthur Puckrin. After travelling for 20 hours we were pleased to be met by our hosts Carl and Chris at Dulles Airport and we had a pleasant journey to their home on the shores of Lake Anna in which the swim would take place a few days later. My urgent needs were a meal and sleep and after both the next day I felt much better. We put the bike together, pleased to find that it had suffered no damage during the journey. I had a training ride to the start of the race which was only 10 miles away and did a lap of the course which was between thick woods with mature trees over 60 feet high. It was going to be very dark at night and during my ride I was amazed to see large Sea Eagles soaring overhead, indeed one paid me so much attention I thought he must have his eye on me for lunch! I was tempted to have a trial swim in the lake, which reached to the bottom of our hosts garden but the presence of some suspicious-looking algae advised against it as I did not wish to suffer any illness before the race. Instead we initiated our hosts into the mysteries of cricket in their garden until Carl, with a mighty hit scored “6 and out” into the lake. We then adjourned for tea (what else?). Race day was fast approaching. On Thursday evening we had a pleasant pasta party with race briefing on the shores of the lake and an early night was called for. 4.00am the next day we were up, a large breakfast and off to the start in the pitch darkness. Not only that, but thick mist caused by the warm water meeting the chill night air meant a start delayed by 15 minutes to 7.15am. At last we were off. It was still very misty but I could make out the course – just. After about an hour the mist lifted to leave a fine, sunny day. I had asked for a drink every 45 minutes and my support crew, Carl a Vietnam veteran, acted beyond the call of duty by wading waist deep into the water to ensure I had my drink. The lake was very shallow in places and I gashed my hand on the bottom, a fact which I did not notice until I was well into the bike ride. I tried to swim steadily and conserve my energy. I thought only of the swim and counted down the time to the finish. My left shoulder was aching badly but the water remained fairly calm apart from the wash of passing speedboats. Eventually I was at the end, to be met by a TV crew from USA EVENING NEWS who filmed me changing (I hope they showed it after the watershed!). I gave them a brief interview and indeed it was shown on TV later that night. I did not think that a few minutes would make any difference to my chances. Onto the bike. The course was hilly and it promised to be a long hard ride. Still, I was pleased to be out of the swim and more importantly, I felt good. I was frightened of no one. “I could beat these guys” I told myself. I rode steadily to start with, it was the last 50 miles which were the most important, not the first 50 I told myself, just keep going. Surprisingly I felt very hungry during the ride, I ate something nearly every lap. My support crew were just after the turnaround at the start of a long climb and as I was only going at walking pace I was collecting cups of coffee and soup, drinking them and dropping off the cup at the bottom of the climb. I was eating so much they were worried we were going to run out of food. I ate soup, chocolate bars, milky ways, bananas and drank coffee and coke. After about 90 miles it started to become dark. We were riding along a road between 60 feet high trees and as soon as the sun went down it became completely black. I had two front lights but it was still difficult. I could no longer pick up food whilst riding. It also became very cold. In anticipation I had brought my winter gear – thick leggings, rubber boots and gloves, and I needed them. I stopped for a good feed and a change of clothes. I had completed half of the bike course when disaster struck - my gear change snapped. Bits of metal were stripped from the machinery. I collected what I could and hoped for a bike mechanic, rather a vain hope at 1.00am. I managed to jam the gears somewhere in the middle, if the gear had gone onto the smallest ring I would have to walk uphill as the course was very hilly. I remembered the first rule of ultra-distance racing – KEEP GOING. However I could feel myself falling asleep on the bike. If I fell off I could not complete the race. At the end of the lap I stopped, had something to eat and a sleep for 2 hours. I awoke, felt slightly more awake and kept riding. It was still dark, I was still half asleep, I thought I would have to stop again but eventually I could see the sky lighten, dawn was breaking. This woke me up slightly and I continued riding. It also became warmer. I was still wearing my winter woollies but it was not that warm and I was not going to stop until the finish. Eventually the finish arrived and I got off the bike, thankfully. I had ridden 180 miles in one gear, but I had kept going! Now for some food, change of clothes and the run. I had moved up to 4th place despite my misfortune with the bike, could I improve further? The run course was quite difficult, one mile uphill and then down. My legs were very stiff so I started walking up the hill and running down. The first half marathon was completed and then it became dark. I did the second half marathon. Only a double marathon to go I told myself! I changed into stout walking boots to protect my feet but continued to run downhill. I was holding my position but did not appear to be making an impact on the leaders, however there was still a long way to go. “Who had the bright idea of completing a triple ironman?” I asked myself. In the dark it was amazing how different the course appeared. I was running through a long dark tunnel, there appeared to be no end to it. There were strange noises from the forest. I was not frightened but everything appeared to be strange and very puzzling. Was the forest full of animals – deer, fox, badgers? I could not see anything but there was movement all around me. I ran on, another lap, then another and another. It was now the middle of the night (the second night on the go) and I could feel myself wandering from side to side on the track. I followed a white line in the middle of the road, hopefully it would lead the correct way. I felt like a stranger on a long pilgrimage. I could feel myself weaving from side to side, was I falling asleep? Should I rest? At the end of the next lap I decided to sleep for 30 minutes (not a good idea as I found out later). I told Mary, my support crew, to wake me in 30 minutes. It was about 2am. She woke me. I was sound asleep. “Leave me, I’m so happy asleep” I said. “Come on” she said, pulling me awake. “You must go on, you have 40 miles to go, you are halfway”. I noticed my feet, they felt very sore. “I have done 40 miles, no wonder my feet are sore”. “Come on” she said, “I will do a lap with you”. “What am I doing?”. “You are in a triple ironman” she said “you must go on”. “What’s that “ I said. “You are in America doing a triple ironman, you must go on”. “What on earth am I doing in America and what is a triple ironman?” I asked, incredulous. Whilst this was going on I was walking. “Come on” said Mary, “we must follow this white line”. I tried to pull myself together. “Do you remember doing the swim and bike?” she said. I searched my memory, I could vaguely remember something, all the rest was blank. We walked on. After a while Mary said “I do not know the way, you will have to show me where to go”. I searched my memory again and slowly it came back. “I remember, we follow this white line, turn at the lights and then we meet a lady who lives in a white van. She takes my number, gives me a drink of free water, we go around an orange bollard and go back” I said. “How do you know which number you are?” asked Mary. “It is on my shirt, look”. I pointed to my stomach and sure enough there was the number 11. After a while we found the lady in the back of the white van, had a drink of water and went on our way. After a while I came round and started to run. Mary left me to prepare food and I continued. Light appeared in the sky, dawn was breaking. I was not eating as much as on the bike. I survived on Ritz crackers and butter, coke, lemonade, coffee and tea, pears and melon and Milky Ways. Carl arrived back from his sleep, he would walk with me for the last 14 miles. My feet were suffering now but I did not want to stop at this stage, I was nearly home. I wanted to get it over with but on the other hand I was reluctant to leave this magnificent forest. “Last lap” said Carl. “Look at this”, I called to him. I saw a family of bears appear in the forest. The parents appeared, then the cubs. “I say, look at this”. I pointed it out to him. “You are starting to hallucinate” Carl said, “Come on, let’s get you to the finish”. I looked carefully and the bears de-materialised into the forest. I finished the last mile, sat down and had a cup of tea. 59 hours and 8 minutes equals happiness. Thanks to Carl and Mary my support crew without whose help I would not have survived and to Dawn and Steve and their team who put on a great festival of sport and such a superb event. Results. 1. Giacomo Maritati Italy 44 hours 13 minutes 2. Beat Knechtle Switzerland 48 hours 45 minutes 3. Joshua Zitomer USA 51 hours 25 minutes 4. Michael Walls USA 57 hours 53 minutes 5. Arthur Puckrin Great Britain 59 hours 08 minutes 6. Vincenzo Catalano Italy 59 hours 54 minutes.

The American Championships and Double Ironman World Cup, Quebec - 9th and 10th July 2004 – a report by Arthur Puckrin

I found myself in a British team of four for this race. The event started with a 5 mile swim in the St Laurence River followed by a 224 mile cycle ride and a 52 mile run! I was in good form and hoped I could improve on my 6th place of the year before but the competition was formidable, particularly from the French who had brought all their strongest athletes. Still, I would do what I could.

After a 30 hour journey we were pleased to be met by our host, organiser Jean Pierre Morin and settled into our self-contained student accommodation at the Cegep Levis Lauzan. After a few days to settle in and meet our fellow competitors we had the ordeal of blood tests on the day before the race to see that we were not users of illegal performance-enhancing drugs. The nurse was unable to find any blood in my arm and it finished with me having to lie down with one nurse holding one hand, another nurse my other, whilst a third squeezed blood from my arm! “After that the race will be nothing”, said Morin. To my surprise he told me that in previous years they had obtained three positive tests. As a result of this blood test, the night before the race I was told by the Race Doctor that my blood showed I was anaemic and should consult my own doctor immediately on returning home - the last thing I wanted to hear so close to the start. I was relieved however that he did not disqualify me from the race.

Friday morning. Our support crews arrived to take us to the bike transition to leave our bikes and kit ready for the race and then upriver for the start prompt at 2.30pm. I hoped that the river would be calm, but alas, it was not to be and as soon as we swam out of the bay 100 yards after the start we were met by huge waves caused by a strong wind blowing against the tide. I knew it was going to be difficult to survive the swim. I thought about retiring and at one stage told myself that I had 24 hours to race and if I was going to spend it swimming then that’s what I was going to do! It was a considerable ordeal as we were tossed about from side to side by the waves. I told myself the end was getting closer – who was I kidding! “Just relax and let the tide take you to the finish”, I told myself.

Eventually the end was in sight and I forced myself to swim on, it was only the skill of the two canoeists that got me to the finish. To cap it all as I staggered ashore I cut my big toe badly on a sharp rock and had to be patched up by the ambulance man. I had taken two hours for the swim – it seemed to be considerably longer - but at least I was ashore. Now a long run to the bike transition, something to eat and drink and off I went.

I had hoped that I would soon join the leading group of cyclists, but not this time, I struggled on the ride. “Still”, I told myself, “it is the last 50 miles that count, not the first 50, just keep riding”.

It soon became dark and started to rain. At least the weather was English but it didn’t improve my position. I had completed about 80 miles, I was not yet halfway, I was cold and having a poor ride. “Why was I doing this?”, I asked myself. “Should I retire?”. If I had stopped for any reason – puncture, lights failure – anything – I’m sure I would have retired, any excuse would have done. Then I told myself that if I retired now without good reason I would be really annoyed with myself the following day. I kept going. My support crew shouted “Halfway” which cheered me up. I started to overtake a few riders and did a few more laps. I dared not ask how far to go in case it discouraged me. I rode a few more laps and eventually I asked. I got the answer – “33”. I had completed over two-thirds of the distance and could now count down to the finish. I felt a bit better. Keep riding. With 10 laps to go it started to rain heavily but I refused to stop, I knew I would warm up on the run. Eventually the end came. 13 hours 5 minutes for the bike leg. I had brought myself up to 5th position. Could I improve on this during the run?

As soon as I stopped I began to shiver, hypothermia set in. I had a change of clothes and something to eat. My legs were so stiff that I could not run so I walked the first two laps until I thawed out. Then I began to run and it gradually became lighter as dawn broke. It was still cold but I was running better although not well enough. Tony Fisher of Chester Tri shot past me. He had a great run and finished in 6th place whereas I gradually dropped back. However as the sun came up it became warmer, my support crew ran with me for a few laps to keep me going and the end became a possibility. I ran a few laps with Robert Holmes, also of Chester Tri who was about to finish 15th and Suraya Oliver of Black Country Tri who had a good run to finish 3rd lady.

Eventually, after 14 hours and 27 minutes I finished the run in 13th place with a total time of 30 hours and 3 minutes. I was pleased to reach the finishing line as on several occasions finishing had seemed a very doubtful outcome.

Next stop, Robert Holmes, Suraya Oliver and Arthur Puckrin attempt the Deca-Ironman in Hawaii in November!

Selected results:- 1 - Pascal Jolly (France) 21.59.32. 6 – Tony Fisher (GB) 25.29.02. 7 – Astrid Benohr (Germany – 1st lady) 25.46.53. 13 – Arthur Puckrin (GB) 30.03.08. 15 – Robert Holmes (GB) 31.03.15. 18 – Suraya Oliver (GB) 31.55.28.