I can't say there were too many positives to take away from my Auckland 70.3 race besides the x-rays being clear of any significant bone damage. That part was good news I guess. For this reason I didn't have much intention of writing a race report. That was until I came accross more and more 'interesting/creative' stories others had come up with for how my race unfolded. Some that I found were; she crashed out and didn't make it to the run leg, made it to 5k from the finish then pulled out, had cramps, strained a muscle, pulled out from head/neck pain, fell over on the run and hit her head. A popular one seemed to include a bike crash rounding a slippery corner. I even had one person confidently let me know how I'd blown up on the run leg from going out too fast.

So what happened?? I came out of the swim about 3.30 down on the super-fish swimmers up front, jumped on my Shiv and headed out onto the roads. The bike course was technical, windy and wet with a few speed bumps thrown in for good measure. Heading out along the water I couldn’t stay on my bars, the wind was almost picking me right up and tossing me off the road. I survived the first 50k loop of the course, over the Auckland harbor bridge, through some roundabouts, over some hills and back over the birdge. The next section of the course was a straight, smooth (well, almost smooth) stretch of pitch-black bitumen. The mist was beeding on my clear-lense Rudy Project sunnies from the drizzling rain. "2 minutes down" Michelle Wu's mum yells out. I'm down on my aeros pushing hard above 40kph when it happened...in slow motion from my angle.
 
My front wheel dropped into the pothole, I instictively gripped harder onto my aero bars as my back wheel lifted into the air. As the front end dropped away, the right side of my handlebars smashed into the pavement and slid along the road. My elbows were first to make contact, just before my right hip and ankle smacked the ground. Finally my head flung back and hit (thank god for helmets) and then Shivy somehow flipped back over and landed on me giving me one massive cork in my left quad. I was in pain. Usually it doesn't really hurt when I crash while the adrenaline's pumping like in a race but this one hurt me in a few places. The cork in my quad made my leg collapse when I tried to stand. I felt like I’d broken my ankle. My forearm was dead and useless for a little while and I had a splitting headache. It seemed like I was down for a little while before I could get my senses and check over my body making sure everything was still attached. Once I could focus I climbed back on my bike. If the guys that helped me get back on are reading this - thank you so much. Before I was even ready my bike was back up standing, my bottles were back in and it was all ready to go.

The next few km’s were slow. Once I started pedaling other places started hurting. My right gluteus medius in particular and I my elbow was too tender to put on the aero bar pad. I thought about it for a bit and convinced myself it's just like ripping a band aid off...you've gotta go all in and do it real quick, so I gritted my teeth and pushed my elbow down hard and got racing again. “6 minutes down” was the next call I heard. “Damn!” I thought. “All that hard work…down the drain”. 40km to go.

I racked my bike back in T2 in 4th place and the pains through my body didn't seem as bad as an hour ago. I just had a killer headache still. Soon after I started running, my head pain went away (maybe as other pains started to move their way up the priority list in my brain). I got some confidence and thought maybe I can get through this. I moved into 3rd after a few km’s and 2nd was only about 2minutes ahead. I got to about 6km when my body started playing up. It started with stabbing pains in my right glut med, then progressed to shooting pain across my sacrum. It didn't take long for the pain to started radiating down my right leg. At this point it was painful but I could still run. It was when the pain changed to weakness that things became very difficult, my ankle had gone weak, and it felt like it was going to give way with each step. I tried doing running drills, high knees, butt kicks, quick feet to try 'wake things up' again. It was kind of helping. I looked like an idot but I was moving forward. If I could just get back to transition I thought, maybe I can get one of the medical staff to manipulate my back, trigger point my glut med, something, anything.

By the time I got back to transition for the end of the first lap I could barely feel my right leg. At some stages it was completely numb, others it was tingling. I’m asking every official/volunteer I pass “where’s the medical?”. They all just told me to carry on. I kept looking and asking but was funnelled through the course turn-around and back out for lap 2, now about 11km down. I stopped at one of the barriers and hung my head over it in disappointment. The friendly spectators asked me what was wrong and I quickly told them and before I knew it one of them - Andrew Mackay - took off to find medical while his mate was helping me out with some stretches. At this point I was still in 3rd place. As much as Andrew tried, he had no luck with finding medical either so I tried to carry on … few more running drills, stop… stretch… run… stop… game over!
 
An hour later I was laying in the medical tent getting some treatment on my hip when I started to get really drowsy. I mentioned it and the sore head when asked and before I knew it I was in a neck brace staring at the cieling of the ambulance. I spent the next few hours at the Auckland hospital. I was released back out to the fresh air again at 3:30 in the afternoon, back to the hotel, got cleaned up, went to the awards ceremony, then had dinner because I was starving! So that’s how my race went down (so to speak)!
  
I’d really like to thank everyone who helped me out throughout my race. Unfortunatley I didn't make it to the finish, as much as I tried, the body was shutting-up-shop piece by piece. In a day like this it really shows as competitors, just how much we are all in this together. And how much others (while still competing themselves) are willing to lend a helping hand however they can to fellow competitor in distress. For this I'm so grateful to all those who helped along the way. Firstly the guys that helped me get back on my bike (and they eventually put out a cone at the pothole after a couple others crashed after me). Then there were all the friendly and generous participants who offered me salt tablets thinking I was cramping. The competitors that stopped to walk with me. Andrew and his mates for trying to get me some medical attention. And then the medical staff and the ambulance crew that helped me at the end. Tim from Compressport who picked me up from the hospital. And thank you Liz Blatchford for patching up the wounds all over my body the following day. Also, I’d like to send out a special thanks to the ‘Dream Team’, A youth tri squad in Georgia who made up this small 'get well Mel' clip (below) within minutes of hearing I was lying in hospital! These guys rock!

    
    1st    4:23:30
 
    Swim   4th    29:50        
    Bike    1st     2:27:28        
    Run     1st    1:23:23
 



The siren goes. I run down the beach, start jumping over the waves then dive in and start swimming. Pro men and women start together. I'm now last. Yep, already. How? Geez I need swim lessons or something... I get smashed by a wave and dragged back then another hits me and almost stops me in my tracks. "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming" I sing to myself like Dory sings in Finding Nemo. I can see ONE cap up in the distance. Must be the second last swimmer. No-one behind me. Bugger! How embarrassing. I'm not just last. Im last by a long way. I have a nice paddle all by myself. After the 1300m triangle in the ocean I run out and up the beach, over the little hill where the commentator is yelling out each athletes name. "This athlete has no number" he says. Phew! That's why I forgot to get numbered. Then I run down into the lagoon for the final 600m straight across to transition. I'm not concerned I'm coming last, actually I'm pretty chilled out. Maybe because it's my last race of the season. Maybe because I know I'm in good shape (in the other two legs).

As I run out of the water I hear people yelling to me that I'm about 2:50 down. That's alright I think. I expected a lot more. Now my race begins. Now I become competitive, aggressive and know how to push my body. Less than 5km in I'm passing people. Alright, back in the race. By the time I reach the first real hill - a 21% incline at around 40km - I take the lead. By 50km I've picked up quite a few men as well as the lead media motorcycle. It's a bit like Forest Gump, the further I go the more 'followers' I seem to accumulate behind me. As they all jump on board I take them for a tour around beautiful Phuket. "...to your left you'll notice the stunning waters of the Adaman sea...and just up ahead on your right keep your eyes peeled for ever-enthusiastic primary school kids out cheering and jumping out of their skin...". Yes, things like this actually do run through my head. There's not a dull moment on this technical, hilly and soon to be drenched bike course. As I reach the last 20km the rain hits. And when it 'rains' here, it really rains! The final 15km is extremely hilly. Pretty much either up, down, windy or a combination of two. As you could imagine, I slow down considerably and play it safe. The up hill is steep but too wet to stand. I started out standing but soon my back wheel was spinning out so in the lowest gear I went, sat down and got into a nice high cadence rhythm. I actually really like hills. I guess my power to weight ratio helps a lot. It's not long before I drop my trailing 'tour group' and I pull into T2 alone.

I offload my bike to the bike catchers and run down to the change tent with my helmet still on my head. I never know the rules when it comes to helmet when bike catchers are involved... Can we take our helmet off and carry it to the tent or do we still have to keep it on? I'm not taking any chances, I keep it on. In the change tent I quickly up end my bag. Helmet off, socks on, shoes on then I run out with gel and visor in hand. The rain is easing but the course is well and truley soggy. 

First we head out on the grass/sand track through the elephant park. Then we hit road for a couple of out and backs. Through our hotel where the friendly Banyan Tree staff are cheering us on. Past the wedding chapel, through the sand and out along the pot hole filled road, u-turn... Actually I'm not exactly sure of the order. This is the third year I've done this race (it was one of the first tri's I did) and I still couldn't tell you where exactly I went. It's good, you never know what's coming up next. At one point I passed Chris Lieto heading in the other direction. "Slow down" he yelled. "Your going to beat me". I gave him a laugh. Chris is an amazing athlete and great guy. He's had an achilles injury for I don't know how long and this is his longest run in a long time. He's out here to finish in one piece, not to break records. My second lap I'm definitely closing in on Chris. I can't see any other girls so I'm judging my pace off the guys ahead and behind. With just over a km to go I see Chris just up ahead. He stops to let me pass. "C'mon, run in with me" I say to him. He didn't wanna run in with Lucky, the baby elephant so politely declines.

I hit the final straight. About 100m of nice blue carpet. I'm handed the Aussie flag which I wave over my head and then Lucky jumps in the race with me. We slowly jog down to the finish line together. She gives me a congratulatory tap and I give her a thank you pat. THEN out of nowhere her trunk moves right up to my face. She plants it smack bang on my lips and gives me the biggest kiss, sucking my lips off. My eyes open wide as I look to the media in shock. She then releases her trunk and looks at me with a quirky smirk. Lucky you're cute Lucky!

Phuket 70.3 is one race that will stay in my mind forever. The location is beautiful. The race is unique. The race organizers are like family. And the volunteers and locals are ever so friendly and helpful. We've all said it before but I'll say it again. This is truly the best race in the world. And it's not just the race that keeps me coming back. The place and people are amazing. It was such a breath of fresh air being around such happy and positive people. Some of the local people don't seem to have much more than the shirt on their back but they are so grateful for it. The workers in our hotel are the friendliest staff in the world. They don't hate their job. They are grateful they have a job. They don't expect a tip like some countires but they still go out of their way to be nice and helpful. They are always in a good mood. You can't walk past a staff member without them giving you their full attention, saying hi and nodding their head. I wish more of the world could see how amazing these people are and how much healthier and happier they are by just putting a smile on their face.

  

   7th  -  2:02:57

   swim 22:01 (13th)
   bike   1:03:04 (1st)
   run    37:51 (7th)




2 minutes before race start and one of my competitors tells me I'm not aloud to 
wear my Blue Seventy speed suit. I had been through the rules before and it clearly states I'm aloud. But she continues to tell me that just this morning they declared ALL speed suits illegal. How did I miss this I think. Emma Snowsill is waiting to interview me before we start but instead of conducting the interview she is now also running around trying to find out. We soon find out my speed suit IS aloud and I quickly swim over to race start.

The frustration of my competitor trying to put me off works in my favour as I take off a little more aggressively than usual. But it isn't long before I'm spat out the back. The swim is tough. I'm all alone and instead of keeping my head down and swimming hard I'm constantly lifting it trying to sight. I come out a good few minutes behind with Sarah Crowly on my heels. There are three bikes left in transition. I get the sympathy clap as I mount my bike. 

I'll show them! I think to myself as I motor up the road. I feel good but I'm a little disappointed there is no wind. The day before was very windy. I was hoping it'd be the same on race day. Being a stronger cyclist a tough  head wind will exaggerate this and work in my favour. It will also reduce the chance of athletes being able to work together to get away. No wind today but RAIN - oh no! That wasn't here when we were swimming. Too late to deflate tyres.

Sarah has a speedy transition and is on her way well before me. But I pass her a few km up the road. I then pass another competitor about 7km in. I'm all alone for the next 5 or so km and the rain starts to pelt down. I climb up the 3km hill feeling strong and I start passing more competitors. At the turn around I can see a group of three riding together. Lisa Maragon leading Felicity Sheedy-Ryan and Ashleigh Gentle. All strong podium contenders. I want to be off the bike well before them.

Coming down the steep hill back into Tewantin I hit 81km/hr. Not quite the 100+ some of the boys can hit. With 10km to go the girls are well and truly in sight. 7km to go there is a tight roundabout. I get right up on the girls and plan to make the pass as soon as we leave the roundabout. The volunteers are waving frantically to slow us down. The road is really wet and super slippery. I slow down so much that I wonder why they are STILL waving. Then... Bang! I hit the deck. Shivy slides out from under me and I slide along the road following. I quickly get back up and on my bike. The next corner I take super slow. And the next... And the next. The roads are as smooth as silk and the water is puddled on them. I lose confidence and slow my pace down considerably. It takes me a few km now to pass the girls but even then I can't gap them. I'm too nervous to really put my foot down. And if I wasn't already nervous enough, I hit the home straight and a volunteer walks straight out onto the road crossing my path. White line, water, spectators... I swerve and slide. But I keep it up. 

I hit T2 with four girls now right on my heels. I'm first to get the shoes on and run the loop around transition, up and over the bridge and then down onto the road to exit T2. Coming out onto the road I get bumped into the barriers as a competitor jumps accross in front of me. The 2 of us run together for a little bit while the 3 leaders are about 1min 30 up the road. It isn't long before the speedy Ashleigh Gentle (eventual winner) storms past us. I know straight away that I can't go that pace today. It's been a very choppy season running-wise with limited training between races and niggling injuries so I stay stuck in about 2nd gear for the majority of the run leg. Soon into the run leg another volunteer walks straight out in front of me as if I'm not even there... I take a thump to my shoulder and start to think that there must be a higher power trying to really test me today. Things just don't seem to be going my way and I start wondering if it's better if I pack it in for the day before something worse happens out here on the course.

While watching the mens race unfold as they run back past me in the other direction, my mind starts to wonder half way through the run...am I even racing? Or am I out for a jog while spectating? I'm running the pace I would in a half Ironman. I start working it out that I'm actually even running slower than I would in a half IM. I cross the line feeling like I've just been for a training run. Aside from some brusing and scrapes to the hip and elbow, I'm not really sore! I'm not physically hurting from racing! But mentally I was pretty spent. I'm not sure what happened out here today but it was far from my best. One positive I can take away from it was I did post the fastest bike split (including a crash along the way). I felt good on the bike, until I crashed. I think I took off in the swim fast (for me at least) so that's a positive. And the run, I got my legs straight away, but I just couldn't go any faster than the one pace I was stuck in.

From a birds eye view you would't think you could go too far wrong with this swim leg. Just follow the canal. Houses on either side. But once in the water you may as well be the size of an ant. The canal is still fairly wide. As we arrange ourself on the start line I'm searching for a sighting buoy. I see ONE in the distance. I'm swimming along next to Belinda Granger. Belinda has been doing this for years so I'm confident she'll keep me on track. We reach the first buoy and turn right around it. From there I don't see any more buoys. I lose Belinda as another athlete crosses my path. I assume the person I'm following now is on Belinda's feet so I remain calm. But before too long, it seems like I'm zig zagging all over the place to try stay on the feet. How can I be going so far off track? Jared ran down to a bridge where he could see us pass under. When I was telling him after the race "I just couldn't swim straight today", he informed me "it wasn't you... there were four in your pack. The leader was zig zagging and each of you just kept looking up when you lost the feet in front and zig zagged to get back on". Lesson learnt - if you think your zig zagging more than normal get off the feet you're following! The swim was tough in that we all had no idea where we were going. There were three buoys in total as we wound around the canal.

As I ran out of the water Jared yelled out that I was 2min 40sec down on the front pack - three former ITU triathletes, in other words, amazing swimmers and then a small gap to Lisa Marangon. I had to ask Jared to repeat it as I was expecting it to be more like 3:40. This gave me a lot of confidence as I ran into T1.

The bike was flat. The one hill that we rode up twice was not steep enough to get out of the aero position and off your bars. The only time I did was around the round-abouts and towards the end which was a tight little square back into transition.  The wind was fairly kind the first lap but the second it had picked up. The way out was a head/cross wind and back a tail/cross. The road surface was nice and smooth for half the lap before you hit that dead bitumen that zapps your speed. I was getting blown around as I was searching for the smoothest line. Both laps had two turn arounds points plus the end of lap one so I could see my competitors up ahead. Radka was leading Liz in the front with Lisa chasing them down. The second lap saw Lisa had caught them and was on the front. I felt good on the bike but wasn't closing the gap as fast as I hoped.

Just before we hit T2 Liz must have put on a surge and dropped the three she was riding with or must've just had a lightening quick transition. I racked my bike and it wasn't long before I moved into second place with Liz a further 30sec ahead. At about 3km I came up on Liz. My initial plan was to 'catch and sit' but when I approached her I was running at a faster pace so didn't want to slow down in case I got comfortable and couldn't then build on it later. I went straight past and opened a gap. The course was two laps. Each lap had a long steady incline in the middle of the lap with the rest fairly flat. By 12km I was surprised to see Liz had caught back up and was on my heels again. Instead of trying to increase the pace I slowed for a bit, quickly recovered and then got ready to respond to Liz if she attacked.

The next 6km was something neither of us had ever experienced in a race this long. We ran side by side with both of us slightly testing the other putting on small surges then slowing it down. With 3km to go I made my move. I knew it had to be a clear decisive move so I put the accelerator down and didn't look back. After 1km we turned a sharp corner so I used this to quickly look over my shoulder. I could see I'd made a enough of a gap so I could relax a little but you never know what's coming and the race isn't won until you cross that line so I kept the pace on. With a couple of hundred meters to go we u-turn then head for the finish. Only then did I know I had it won. I could finally slow down, wave to the crowd, give some high fives before running through the Ironman arch
as Australian 70.3 Champion.

 It was great to be back home, well back in Australia. I've been in the US for 5 months so after all the travel to get to Perth and then out to Mandurah all I was thinking about was how close to home I was. When we arrived Friday afternoon it was hard to get motivated to race again. I just wanted to go home. But after I went for a spin on the Saturday and felt great I was confident I could put on one last show before heading home. Looking back now, Mandurah is a beautiful place and a great location for the Australian 70.3 Pro champs.  The swim was unique and the laps on both bike and run made it more spectator friendly which helps make the race more interesting for everone. USM & Ironman have teamed together now and they showed it is working really well.

The cannon booms across the bay and it’s on for young and old, no rules, no witnesses, no holds barred! To describe the swim leg in one sentence… It was an hour-long, hypoxic breathing drill (just enough oxygen consumption to stay alive), using no more than half a stroke-length, laced with a surprisingly abundant quantity of blindside punching, kicking, elbowing, dunking, grabbing, pulling, and what would best be described as crowd surfing in water. Suffice to say the swim was nothing but chaos buried away somewhere in the middle of the man-made white-water rapids ride.

Out of the water, up the stairs and dumped into the circus tent that is transition. Akin to passing directly through the heart of an emergency room…with the power out. Stress levels and decibel levels seemed to be off the charts. Countless volunteers darting back and forth, doing seemingly anything for the athletes. The procedure seems pretty simple in here: peel off speed suit, cap, goggles, put on socks and bike shoes, throw swim gear in bag, go! But in that tent it would appear that many athletes are not their usual cognitive and coordinated selves immediately following the thorough open-water beating. Understandable.

Onto the bike and into natures own wily wind tunnel. The Queen K and its brutal hurricane-grade winds showed me who’s boss from the get-go. Up down up down, riding the relentless waves of evil black tarmac paved in one lonely never ending strip across Earths dried up lava fields. Soul-crushing all the way. The 8mile climb up to the turn-around point in the remote town of Hawi was one of the slowest and toughest piece of riding I’ve ever done. Not that I have much cycling experience for comparison. The brutal winds relentlessly attacked like a burley prizefighter bullying his unworthy opponent. They bashed from left, from right, an uppercut from the front, straight down from above somehow. The mood on the course changed dramatically from this point as athletes shifted their focus from racing each other to giving each other ample room for maximum safety. Making a pass from this point was a risk most weren’t willing to take. For a good hour plus we were all in this together…this part was survival only, and everyone knew it.

I’d convinced myself that making the turn at Hawi would be the relief I needed to regroup. After the turn, it became apparent that this misguided, simple logic does not apply out at Hawi. The demoralizing wind patterns never seemed to get any better on the way back. At times I was honestly concerned that I might not make it back to Kona…not on my own 2 wheels at least. Midday came and past, hallucinations of big thick burgers and greasy pizzas came and went in the distance through the heat haze. By early afternoon I was thoroughly cooked, both figuratively and literally. Hot, burnt, hungry, tired and aching I rolled back into Kona, unraveled my body from the ridiculous time-trial position and wobbled back through the transition circus.

Shoes and helmet off, run shoes and hat on. Simultaneously an overly helpful volunteer smothered sunscreen on every patch of bare skin I had. He was obviously well practiced in the art. Like a one-man pit crew changing wheels he was in and out, signifying the all clear with hands up in the air before I even wanted to get back up. The volunteers never failed to impress during the entire Kona experience. I don’t know where they find them all, but they were incredible. Out of the tent and back onto the melting tarmac…it was go time again.

As a whole, the run leg was relatively uneventful. By this point it was difficult to entice the body or mind to do anything more than ‘just get through’. The first 10mile was a reasonably pleasant, gently undulating trip out and back along the coast. Filled with a hype of spectator activity I can see how a lot of athletes would get carried away with the enthusiasm oozing through the streets and forget about the rest of the marathon ahead. After the first 10mile ‘warm-up’, the course turned up the infamous Palani climb. If you weren’t looking up paying attention at this point, Palani would whack you square in the nose. From here the course rolled onto the Queen K where things started to get a lot more interesting.

For years watching the Hawaiian Ironman on TV, the lasting images were always the agony of runners suffering along the never ending stretches of the Queen K. Black lava left and right, long gradual hills of pain in front and behind, and the intense Kona sun beating down from above. This was the part I was looking forward to the most. In reality it was a fair bit milder than the mythical creations on TV and in my mind. The hills made the course tough, but the heat didn’t seem to be a concern. The lonely lava fields turned out to be more a novelty than a grueling struggle. Out through the Energy Lab and back home into Kona for the last time, down the steep quad-shattering Palani, and fed through the final finish chute.

The finish chute was an effervescent cocktail of loud, colorful, uncontained excitement that was quite difficult to take in at the time. It was sensory overload after spending most of the day mentally locked away in the sensory-deadening confines of the mind's self-induced mental asylum. To be honest I was more looking forward to bypassing the ecstasy gauntlet and going straight out the back to a nice quiet patch of grass where I could peacefully lay down to die. 

All in all, it was a very long day out there. It was one hell of an experience that had been fading away on my bucket list since the early 90’s. It was a drawn-out battle between mind, body and the Kona gods. Like lambs to the slaughter indeed, it baffles me how anyone could possibly be willing to offer up their soul as mincemeat to the Kona gods more than once! Memories fade I guess…

As Jared and I stepped off the plane in Kona we immediately felt the warm humid air. What a difference it was to what we had just experienced in Boulder a few days earlier - zero degrees and snow. The airport was all outdoors and all the air crew were in bright colourful shirts. Rudi, one of my sponsors from Compressport rocks up in a white jeep with the top down. Somehow we managed to fit two bikes, two luggage bags, a spare set of wheels and two backpacks as well as the three of us in there. First stop was Target where Rudi pulled up, chucked it into park and jumped out yelling back "grab the wheel, gotta get some ice". Jared climbed over before finding a park. This must be how it's done is Kona!

We head down Queen K. It's busy. Thousands of athletes are arriving. We get close to where the expo is, where Rudi is setting up stall. He asks Jared to turn into a servo and before we know it he's outa the car again... This time with a bag of ice in each hand, "take the car, I'll call you later" he says as he runs down Palani Drive.

Wednesday morning Jaz and I head out for a run. We jog 20min before Jaz leaves me at the base of a nice long hill. He heads home. I've got a hill session to complete. I stretch a little before I decide there is no point stretching anymore, I'm dripping with sweat. Let's get this done! Up and down the hill I go... First rep is a 3minute hill, followed by a 1minute hill. I repeat this 6 times. I then jog home. I scull a whole 26oz bottle of water as soon as I get in the door. Quickly shower. Have two pieces of toast with peanut butter and banana. Then we're on our bikes spinning down the road to the Specialized house (only a few km away). I was excited to have brunch with the Specialized crew. The majority of them I'd never met in person. We'd sent several emails back and forth, skyped and talked on phone but most I didn't have a face to put to the name. It started off well... First I got round to quickly meet them all before Jared and I digged into the french toast with macadamia nuts while we pulled up a piece of wall and chatted with Bobby and David. As Jared was talking I started seeing black dots. Oh no... Don't do this now Mel. I quickly put down my plate and tried to focus... Next thing I'm sliding down the wall. Luckily David saw me go and they managed to grab me before I hit the gorund. What a first impression! Obviously a little dehydrated after my run session.

Thursday morning started off with a nice ride out along Queen K through the lava fields. It was amazing. A long straight hyway with nothing but lava on either side. I was flying along the silky smooth rolling hills. It should have triggered I was riding with a tail wind but no, I just thought I was feeling fantastic. I turned around after about 50km and let's just say... I was no longer flying! Did I tell Jared what he was in for when I got back? I couldn't but I did change the advice I first gave him of "give it all on the bike, your running legs will be there". "Save a bit in the first half Jaz, it could be tough coming back", I said to him. Jared is a runner. He's done one IM/one triathlon. IM Cairns in June. He came 4th which secured him a spot for Kona. The bike is his weakest leg. He's a thin lanky runner with amazing endurance but he's still developing the strength needed for the bike. I knew it was gonna be a tough day for him if the wind picked up.

Friday was a busy day, making sure Jared's Specilaized Shiv was in tip top shape and getting it racked and all ready for the big day. I was getting excited. 

Saturday 13th October 2012. It's 5:30am. Justin (Jared's best mate) and I ride our bikes down to the start in the dark while he gets a lift down. He gets everything sorted in transition, I kiss him good luck then we let him go. Justin and I run to the pier where we watch the swim start. I won't go into detail about our exciting day of chasing Jared around and watching him from wherever we could. He is going to post his own race report about his Kona experience. 

I wanted to beat the heat Sunday morning so I headed out early'ish for my ride. As I'm heading down Queen K I hit a rock on the road. I immediately hear my front tyre go down. Damn! As I'm changing it, I think to myself - I better head back, pick up another tube then head out again. I only had one tube with me. As I chuck my gas canister on, it goes straight up then to my disappointment straight down. What! I rip the tube out. It was faulty. Before I can even think what to do a bike stops and offers me his only tube. I couldn't leave him stranded with no spare so I refuse to take it. The next bike stops and offers me a puncture repair kit. That'll do I think. It's brand new. I puncture the lid on the glue and squeeze it... And squeeze it... There is nothing in it but air. I look at the patches. Maybe one will stick without the glue, just to get me home. But they are no longer sticky. I guess the kit was too old. I remember Rudi saying he was setting up stall at Lava Java this morning. I must be less than 10km from there so I call him to see if he's close. He is. He's on his way so he offers to swing by and pick me up. I start walking back. It's the day after the World IM champs. I didn't think there would be many bikes out, especially not early. If I knew more than a dozen bikes were gonna ride past me I would have just waited for the next kind cyclist to stop. As I'd already rung Rudi and by now he must be almost here I turn down every other offer including a lady who stopped in her truck on the other side of the road willing to give me a lift. This really made me aware of how friendly and helpful our fellow cyclists are. Anyways... I'm still walking. And walking. I walk right back into town. Long story short - Rudi got lost. I walked over an hour in my cleats and Jared, the day after his second IM rode into town and brought me another tube. By now it's hot and I'm tired from walking so we grab a coffee then head to the pier for a swim. The water was beautiful. I think if I lived in Kona I could almost get to like this swimming thing. As I swam parallel to Ali'i drive I could see the massive volcano mountain one side, the never ending ocean to the other and down below the beautiful coral, fish and even turtles. Yes, I swam with a turtle. Amazing!

Monday was the day we tried our hand at Stand up paddle surfing. So much fun! And such a nice place to do it. We didn't mind falling off into the crystal clear blue water. We rode our boards like paddle boards, surfboards, kayaks, you name it. We tried to jump on each others board when they weren't looking. See who could stand the closest to the end of the board before it flipped us off. We rode waves. We raced. We had a ball.

Our last full day in Kona was Tuesday and we definitely made the most of it. At 7:15am I was out the door on my bike headed for Volcano National Park. It was about 160km away. I had a brick session to do this morning - 100km ride followed by a 30min run. As I was out cycling the boys took off to get a hire car. At 98km they pull up beside me as Jared yells out "how much more you got?". 2km I reply so they pull up a couple of km's up the road. I trade my bike shoes for my runners, my nicks for running shorts. Take a quick pit stop in the bush then head off for my run. Our transition couldn't have been in a better spot. Just down the road was 'black sand beach'. The boys drove down there to take a quick look while I opt to keep heading in the direction of the volcano. I run up and over the hills for 30min before jumping in the car for the last 50 or so km.

When we arrive in the national park the first thing we stop to see is the steam vents. Massive holes in the ground with really hot steam blowing up. Pretty cool. Next stop is a ginormous crater with steam pouring out. We couldn't get too close to this one - I'm guessing the surrounding areas could be dangerous and mighty hot. But we still got close enough to get some great photos. We then stopped at another massive crater where we had our packed lunch of, you guessed it - peanut butter and banana sandwiches. The bottom of this crater is hard smooth cracked lava. It looks just like the earth has dropped down leaving a huge hole in the middle of the forest. There are people walking over it way down below. They look like little ants. We then drove on to see more craters where we got out and walked over them. I even brought back some lava. There's two different types of lava. Smooth lava that looks like a wet wrinkled towel that's set then there is the honeycomb type that glitters in the sun to show rainbow colours through it. Oh, then there is the chunked up lava that looks like poo! Our last stop was pretty amazing - the lava tube. A long tunnel of lava that we were able to walk through.

On our return we headed straight for the snorkel beach where I got in a good swim while the boys watched the turtles nibbling on the rocks and getting washed up and flipped over constantly as the waves rushed in. What an awesome week! One I'll definitely remember.

     1st 4:06:56

     Swim 5th 22:02
     Bike 1st 2:20:45
     Run 1st 1:20:46



What a way to finish off my US season. I picked Augusta, Georgia because I wanted to meet my 'Dream Team' youth tri squad, whom I was appointed team Captain last year. Set up by Harvey and coach Kim a year ago, they have established triathlon squads in Atlanta, Athens and Augusta for kids under 18. I flew into Atlanta Friday afternoon and Harvey picked me up and drove me to Athens for a little training session and Q&A with the kids followed by photo's and autograph signing. We had a great time as I shared stories with the kids and met all the parents. The following morning Harvey and I went for a spin around beautiful Athens before Kelly and Marcus (parents of some Dream Team kids and also triathletes themselves) drove me to Augusta where the three of us checked in for the Augusta 70.3. They then dropped me off at Tony and Kristen's house who would be my Homestay hosts for the night. Tony would also compete and we enjoyed a little jog together Friday evening. Everything went so smoothly with Harvey's meticulous planning. 

Race morning, 3500 competitors, the largest IM 70.3. As we were treading water on the start line, instead of sculling on our stomachs we were constantly pushing ourselves back. We're swimming downstream, point to point. Not that I noticed the extra push as I was swimming but I did notice I exited the water quite a bit quicker. The time I saved in the water, I think was added to the extra long run to T1. I didn't mind this at all because I'd definitely got the blood back into my legs by the time I'd reached my bike. Harvey was at the mount line and informed me I was two minutes down on the leaders.

The bike course was nice - flat and fast at the start, rolling hills through the middle and then flat and fast to finish. I took one wrong turn as the official seemed to be pointing for a sharp left. I was on the wrong side of the road but managed to bush bash my way across the grassy ditch dividing the road. I'd taken the lead at 38km. With a few corners and switchbacks I could see Emma-Kate holding on. At 65km she went past and took a turn. But slowed up about 10km down the road for a hill and then aid station. I decided to take the lead back and remained in the lead right into T2 with Emma-Kate only a few seconds back. We had made a pretty large gap to the rest of the field so unless something seriously went wrong it looked like 1st and 2nd had been decided.

I racked my bike and not so quickly put my socks and shoes on, grabbed my gel and visor and made my way out of T2. Another super long run transition gave me some time to get my watch working to give me some mile splits along the way. Out on the run course Harvey popped up again and told me I had a 30second lead. Then again a couple of miles down the road he tells me I'm a couple of minutes up. By half way I had about a 5minute lead. The run course was pretty cool. Some might think boring but I liked it. It was two laps and each lap snaked up and down the local streets. There were specters everywhere including Harvey and the Dream Team crew. At one point on each lap Harvey had organized the whole street practically to sing and cheer for me all at the same time "Go House!". I couldn't resist waving as a huge smile covered my face.

At 5 1/2 mile however I was a little worried. I started to get the urge to use the bathroom. By 7 mile I was getting pretty desperate. My lead cyclist was just up ahead, occasionally looking around to make sure I was still there. Approaching 7 1/2 mile I spotted some porta loo's. I bolted off course and straight into one. Did my business and and jumped back into the race. My lead cyclist had stopped around the corner, obviously thinking "where'd she go?". I put on a little surge to catch her and apologized. We shared a little laugh before I got back to focussing on winning the race.

I felt pretty good on the run. I felt like I was totally in control for the first time this US season. That was exciting. I had enough time up my sleeve to back off the pace a little, have a pit stop and give Harvey and team a good wave and smile. Coming down the finish chute I tried to give every little kid (and adult) a high five before grabbing that winners banner and thrusting it up over my head. 

After my race I sat on the back of Harvey's truck watching the rest of the competitors run past on their way to completing their race. When Marcus and Kelly ran past we jumped up and gave them a good yell. Marcus was funny as he ran past. Harvey was running along next to him giving him his placing but all he kept yelling back was "how'd Mel go?, did she win?". Both Marcus and Kelly raced amazingly . Kelly secured her spot for Vegas and Marcus broke 5hrs setting a new personal best. Tony also set a record, knocking over half an hour off of his last years time.

It was an amazing day and weekend! And such an awesome way to wrap up my US season. Next stop - KONA! To watch Jared, my husband compete in his third ever triathlon and second full IM.

Thanks to race organizers, sponsors and volunteers for putting on yet again another supperb race. And a huge thank you to Harvey, Julie & family for sharing their home with me and organizing such a wonderful weekend. Tony, Kristen & family for welcoming me into their home and Kelly & Marcus for the fun road trip to Augusta. Also the entire Dream Team for their continual support.

     2nd 4:18:36

     Swim 11th 27:29
     Bike 1st 2:20:27
     Run 2nd 1:27:57



Cozumel is a beautiful little Island off mainland Mexico. Definitely a race to do and place to go. The swim is in the crystal clear ocean. 100% visibility - that's clearer than most swimming pools. The local Mexicans are all friendly and excited about all the commotion. The event itself is not quite the well-oiled, smooth-running Ironman production that rolls in and out of each host city in America, but what the Mexicans lack in polish, they make up for ten-fold with flair, excitement and genuine good intentions. The weather was warm but not crazy hot and there was some humidity in the air. Perfect for racing!

As the athletes line-up around the starting pier on race morning, the locals wake up the dolphins for a quick dolphin show to get the festivities started. What a way to get things started before the race hey! 15minutes before the scheduled pro start the organizers send off 1 lone competitor, he's got the tough task of completing the days 70.3 with his disabled daughter in tow. For swim leg, he's dragging a large green raft with his daughter in it. As we see him start out we get a little concerned that he's going to get trampled by the 2000 competitors starting soon behind...or that he'll maybe end up being a large road-block in the middle of the swim course.

I position myself on the start line sandwiched between the two fastest swimmers in the field, actually two of the fastest swimmers on the circuit. Maybe I can hold on for a few minutes... Ok, a few seconds! As we take off, almost immediately I lose sight of Liz and Jodie. But I find myself swimming in the pack. The water is amazing. We reach the first turn bouy at the far end and head for the second. As we approach I see the bright yellow turn bouy to the left and the big green raft of the man with his disabled daughter to the right. Ok, I think to myself, he's waiting for us to pass...safe...sensible. The pack, including myself head straight for the yellow buoy trying to find the shortest route. A few get through but then the gap begins to close. The green raft is getting closer to the yellow buoy and the opening is disappearing. By the time I get to it I see a rope linking the raft to the buoy. The man is pulling himself into the bouy. The girls ahead are madly rushing to climb over and under the rope before it completely closes. Most got through... I did not! I'm bashing at the raft but it wouldn't budge. I had no choice but to head far right and swim around the raft. I've completely lost contact with the pack. I put on a massive surge and luckily get back on. From there on I just sit and follow them back to the exit.

Not a great start, it definitely got my heart racing as it caused some panic. But I emerge with the pack, run past them all and mount my bike first (fourth overall with Emma-Kate 2mins up the road and Jodie & Liz 4mins up). As I begin cycling I hear this constant - bang, bang, bang! Oh no, my wheel is gonna come off. I pull on my handlebars to lift my bike slightly to see if my front wheel is loose. It doesn't seem to be but the bang! Bang! Bang! just won't stop. What is going on? Soon I see my front drink bottle positioned between my aero bars is slipping back and almost hitting my knees... My drink bottle cage is slipping off! I try madly to tighten it but fail. I try not to let it get to me... bang, bang, bang... I push the bottle forward so it doesn't fall right off... bang, bang, bang... Another push, no difference. I cannot get into a rhythm. I feel like I'm stuck in first gear. That's when my mind wonders for a little as I start singing "...you're stuck in second gear, when it hasn't been your day, your week, your month, or even your year...". The mount cage is not helping things as I'm thinking "How much damage is this doing to my bike?", "Should I just stop and fix it?" but moreso, the road is so rippled that I'm bouncing all over the place. "Maybe I can stop and let some air out of my tyres and at the same time fix my bottle?". My mind was going a million miles an hour but then just up ahead I see Emma-Kate. I put my head down, power past her and think, maybe Jodie and Liz are not too far ahead. After about 20k through the trees, we turn a slight corner to see the ocean again, we've made it across the other side of the Island already.  I feel this massive sting in my thigh. Weird. It's pretty damn windy on this side of the Island so I think it must be the sand being blown up across the road whipping me in the legs. But then I realize the sting is confined to one small point. I look down and see the stinger from a bee is still stuck in my thigh. I wobble over the road as I frantically try to pull it out. The sting soon goes away but it remains itchy for the rest of the ride. 

50km in and I see what looks like two more cyclists up ahead. I slide my sunnies down to the end of my nose like a granny looking out the top of her reading glasses. The sea salt has made my sunnies impossible to see clearly. But yep, there's Liz and Jodie just up ahead. At 55km I pass them both, still bang, bang, banging my way along. I get to 75km where we u-turn and head back the final 15k back to T2. As I turn around I see Emma-Kate, Jodie & Liz all sitting in. Damn! I slow down, move over and let Emma-Kate lead the way back into T2. 

The four of us dismount together. We all throw our bikes towards the bike catchers and start yelling our race number. For those who don't know, when there are bike catchers 'usually' after you hand over your bike another volunteer will hand you your T2 bag (with your running shoes in it) then you will run to the change tent (separate male and female tents) before up ending it. Only when you are in the change tent can you begin to get changed. Several volunteers are standing there, some point straight ahead so Liz and I, first to dismount run straight ahead frantically looking for our bag. Meanwhile another volunteer points to his right so Emma-Kate and Jodie begin running to their right also frantically yelling out their race number. After what seems like minutes (probably only a few seconds) the four of us are doing a dance on the spot not sure where to go or what they want us to do! We didn't speak spanish and they didn't speak english. It would've made for some amusing footage if anyone got it. We all laughed about it after the race. After this little episode was all sorted I had to get a volunteer to help untangle my necklace from my helmet strap (probably due to the constant bouncing). Finally...I was all set for the run.

On to the run... I told my legs to go but they wouldn't budge. I shuffled on. Out and back and then again for another lap. It wasn't until 15km that my legs started to feel ok. It's coming to the end of my US season and I'm finally able to start putting some decent run training in now, so instead of backing off through this week I've been keen to continue building up for the future now that I can. Maybe this had something to do with the run leg here. And maybe also the long ride the Saturday before might've contributed too - where we rode a solid 204k from Boulder up to the highest continuous paved road in North American. An amazing ride that I'm glad we got to do before the cold weather set in to the Rockies.
It's been a tough year with a lingering injury and although it healed midway through the US season it was difficult to build enough mileage in the short period leading into key races while still tapering where needed. I managed a second place in Cozumel and although I really wanted the win I need to keep reminding myself that I was lucky to even make it to so many start lines this year.

   
   4th   4:35:14

   Swim   28:44   (17th)
   Bike   2:29:32   (3rd)
   Run   1:33:05   (12th)




Back in Vegas! One year on - I'm defending champion and things are slightly different this year. I walk up to the Specialized Truck and my bike is there waiting for me. My brand new black Shiv, this time with my name printed on the frame - Hauschildt with the Aussie flag. Spider Monkey (Joe), Mallory & Paddy are there to greet me and go out of their way to help me and make sure my bike is in tip top shape. Race morning, I arrive at T1 to rack my bike and Spider Monkey is already there ready to pump my tyres. I am so thankful to have such wonderful support from my sponsors.

15minutes before race start I pull on my bright green swim cap and stand on the bank waiting for the word that we can dive into the warm Lake Las Vegas to begin our warm up. To my right is Lindsay Corbin in a white cap and to my left Angela Naeth is in purple. The three of us stand out like hotdogs at a hamburger party. The other 27 pro girls are in bright pink caps. 

1min into the swim I'm sitting in the pack, 5min gone and I'm still there... I see the purple cap of Angela, one point ahead of me, the next beside me, the next behind me. We take in turns of sitting on each others feet as we make our way to the finish chute WITH the pack. The swim is both our weakest legs by far so we were pretty excited to exit the water with the group. This is the first time I have ever swam in a pack, EVER, and I actually felt like I belonged. I held my ground. There were a few taps on the feet, clips on the shoulder but nothing like I expected. Usually I get a few biffs and I back off, I let the pack go, I panic. But not today. And I owe a huge thanks to Tenille for helping me conquer this fear, start quicker and sit on feet. It isn't so bad swimming in the pack after all.

Out on 'The House' (my Bike - short for Hauschildt) I begin picking off competitors. Leanda, Jodie & Kelly are all over 3min up the road. The rest of the group isn't too far away. The bike course is tough - probably one of the toughest I've done but also one of my favorites. It's hilly but the type of hills I like - long! Into T2 I dismount 3rd. Leanda a few minutes up the road and Heather just under two. On a normal day, not a problem I'd think. But today wasn't a good day. My body not 100%, by the time I got to the run it'd said enough. It was the longest, hottest and mentally hardest half marathon I've done. When you have nothing right from the first step, when you're cramping (first time ever) before you even get off the bike, while the sun is beating down at over 40deg C melting the tarmac beneath your shoes, and when there isn't enough water stations to keep fluids up, you just wish a big fat bus would come along to take you out and end the misery. As long as I waited the bus didn't come so I shuffled on, up and down the hills of Henderson almost delirious until I finally crossed the finish line in 4th place. 

This was not the result I wanted but as a legend of the sport and great role model, Heather Fuhr told me "sometimes you are just dealt one of those days" and you can't change it. But you can look forward to what is next... 

I want to send out a huge thank you to all my sponsors, manager, friends and family who all stand by me whether I have an awesome day or a not. Also a special thanks to Chuck from Colorado Multisport for transporting my bike to and from Vegas. James from Colorado Multisport for building my bike and 'Dream Team Triathlon', a Youth Triathlon Squad in Georgia who have appointed me Team Captain and shown me tremendous support throughout the year. And finally Jared, my husband for always being there for me. He never gets mad at me even when I'm a pain in the a**!

   5th 2:04:02

   Swim 22:20 27th
   Bike 1:02:48 2nd
   Run 37:06 3rd



Hy Vee 5150! Whoa... Pretty much the world champs of Olympic distance non drafting. This is the one race that attracts the best triathletes from all distances. And this means I need to swim fast! I'm up against the top ITU girls who are awesome swimmers. 

The week leading into this race I had the help from Tenille Hoogland, a great mate & fellow triathlete and Specialized rider, not to mention an amazingly fast swimmer. Two mornings a week the Boulder Reservoir is marked out with buoys in a 1km circuit to practice open water swimming. Tenille and I headed there. We practiced starts. In the past I haven't taken off fast enough. And we practiced sitting on feet. Another thing I've had real trouble with. This is due to a few reasons - I've lost contact too soon, I don't always swim straight but the main reason - I don't sit close enough. 

As my name is called I slowly walk down to the pontoon following the Aussie flag carried by my little flag bearer. As I'm standing on my starting mark I look to my left - Lisa Nordon! 2nd at the Olympics three weeks ago and a super fish in the water. Tenille said "find someone that is faster than you but not TOO much faster that you cannot keep up". Lisa was not that person I was looking for. 

On your marks go! That was pretty much how it went. Isn't there meant to be a pause between on your marks... and... GO! This is my first diving start and... I missed it. That split second where everyone is about to dive off the pontoon and I'm leaning back getting my foot close to the line ready to shoot myself forward as quick as I can. Not to worry, I'm in the water swimming as fast as I can... Ok, so I'm not sitting on feet, it's just me all alone again but I feel like I'm going ok. The swim is 2x750m laps with a small run in between. I come out after the first lap, pull myself up the ramp then start sprinting round to dive in again. The commentator is calling us all out of the water... There were names after me! I'm not last. Ok... Keep going hard. I get around the second lap and run to my bike. I'm out in 27th position. This doesn't sound too great when there is only 30 in my race but I'm only 2min 37sec behind the leader and less than 2min behind the majority of the field. I'm happy with that!

The bike - its only 40km but I think I can make up at least a minute. It's four laps which means lots of tight corners and u-turns. It's not going to be easy to make up this time. What I didn't realize though was how rough the roads were. I was bumping all over the place. The roads were all cracked with potholes & train tracks to tackle. I just couldn't get a good rhythm. It was tough. Then throw in the hills, two decent sized hills each lap. What was awesome though was the constant screams from spectators lining a good majority of the course.

I racked my bike in about 12th position, now less than 2min behind the leader. The run is also 4 laps so plenty of cheering along the course. From transition, in front of the grandstand, we head down the hill, out and back on the flat then up a decent sized hill back to the grandstand. I'm feeling good. I'm in control. And I'm picking off competitors. Two laps down and I've moved into 4th. I'm working on third. I'm catching her. Half way through the third lap I'm not gaining anymore... I'm keeping the same distance. It's ok, one more lap... She'll slow, I'll put on a surge. Third time up the decent hill which has now turned into a mountain I'm feeling it. But I still have another gear, I have a surge in me. Down the hill for the last lap and out to the turnaround. As I hit the turnaround on the last lap this feeling comes over me... My legs suddenly weigh a tonne. I've got 2.5km to go and my legs now feel like magnets attracting more and more lead the entire way back... I get to the hill and I try to push up it but the lead stuck to my quads is almost pulling me backwards... I hear Jared yell 12seconds... I'm hoping he means I'm 12seconds behind third... It sounds so close but there's no bridging that gap now. Problem is he's telling me 5th place has caught back up and is now only 12sec behind... 

That was tough! But also really fun. And different. I liked the diving start and the laps. The bumpy road wasn't cool - maybe I'll have to decrease my tyre pressure next year. But the constant line of spectators and the fact we could also see our competition was really cool. I definitely know what to work on for next year with this race - my swim. And my bike handling skills.