Challenge Roth Race Report - by Shane Manning
Challenge Roth 2022...my race report and a bit more.
If you make it all the way to end, apologies...it’s a long old story!
Challenge Roth - probably the largest triathlon globally that most people have never heard of...
For those that don’t know, Challenge Roth is a full distance triathlon...or otherwise known as an Ironman or Iron-distance.
But to clarify, Ironman is a brand, a company...as is The Challenge Family. And The Challenge Family sure know how to put on not just a race, but a damn good party!
To justify calling it the largest triathlon globally, you just have to take the sheer number of competitors – there is approximately 3500 individuals racing, and another 650 relay teams. These are good odds for an old carcass like myself not to be last over the line! I could be wrong here, but I am led to believe this is the most number of people racing for any triathlon around the world.
BUT...Roth is more known within the triathlon world as the race with the best party atmosphere. It’s claimed that there is over 260,000 spectators out on the course throughout the day. It’s these people who are not only spectators, but some of them also make up the army of some 6500 volunteers who give up their day to help all of us athletes. There were kids as young as 5 or 6 helping give out water or gels, and some well past retirement aged folk out there also smiling and cheering. Typing this now, I have a smile on my face just thinking back to race day. As painful as the day was, it is just filled with the most amazing, beautiful memories.
The course itself is another attraction for many to sign up for the race. For this Aussie who has been lucky throughout my life to travel far and wide, the novelty of cycling and running through Bavarian villages was that of pure joy, and one I am thankful for.
For those that are reading this, and have been thinking they’d like to try and race a triathlon (any distance) but think they can’t do it, or are afraid (mostly because of the swim), then I hope this race report might give you a little confidence to just sign up for a race and make it happen.
Up until race day, I had never run more than 21 km in my life and I was about to go and cycle 180 km and then attempt to run a marathon – 42.195 km (26.385 miles). I had very little confidence in myself for the run part of the race as I am an exceptionally average runner on the best of days, and having battled some old injuries that just wouldn’t heal, I was pretty much shitting myself for race day. It had gotten into my head quite a lot too, to the point it was making me anxious...But deep down, I knew that whatever race day threw at me, that the fear of letting myself, my family, friends & teammates down by not finishing was much stronger and that I can be a stubborn old bastard when I have to! I was going to finish even if it meant crawling over the line.
Why?
Why did I sign up for a race that I knew would consume a large part of not only my time with training, but it also consumes huge amounts of mental space too.
I don’t really have an answer, but I think there might be something in there about some self validation. Who knows...
The training building up to the race was pretty full on. I knew what I was getting myself in for, but there were days that I was really struggling to find motivation. Other days, man...I was loving life. Beautiful open water swims, even a few pool swims I really enjoyed. Some epic bike rides with the crew – of course with a coffee stop!
The last few weeks before the race, training was ramping up and it was a balancing act. Family, work, training, sleep, work, travel...there really aren’t enough hours in the day sometimes. Plus the added stress of the Dubai summer kicking in, meant most training sessions on the bike or runs started around 5am. I can hear many people (especially Lottie – my coach) saying, why the hell don’t you training indoors on the treadmill or bike trainer? Plain and simple – I really hate it! The indoor bike trainer is without a doubt one of the best ways to really make gains, but being on it even for 45 mins was just torture. I’d much prefer to suffer in the heat and humidity.. I really don’t know why.
All of the stress, lack of sleep, excessive work, training etc caught up with me and I gave myself a good bout of shingles. Not a pleasant few weeks that’s for certain!!! And not really what I wanted or needed only a few weeks away from the race.
Anyway, enough of the small talk.
Race Day:
A bowl of pasta with butter and salt and of course coffee was breakfast. I had planned to go for rice but with everything else going on, I just didn’t get it cooked.
Over the next 2 hours leading up to the race start I was sipping on a bottle of water/carb mix - SIS BETA being my go-to. This was also going to be my primary race fuel whilst out on the bike.
An SIS BETA gel about 20 mins before race start was washed down and I was as fuelled as I’ll ever be.
The Swim:
This is my favourite part of any triathlon, and one I was looking forward to. I guess you could say I am just above average when it comes to swimming (and very much below average when running).
We were staying some 30 min drive away and my head was all over the place. I’d tried to have everything sorted the day before, but I just had too many other distractions getting into my head. To leave the final prep to race day morning really ain’t what you want to do...and I was really getting myself all worked up.
Up at 4am, coffee, toilet, food, coffee, toilet. Anyone who has raced knows this ritual. Get Su and the kids up, get all my gear to the car and off we go.
I literally got to the parking area as the police were closing the roads. I was stressing myself out and my brain was as scattered as all hell, when really I should have been just trying to chill and go through the motions, get into race mode.
We park and walk to T1 and the swim start area. The place is BUZZING! What an atmosphere. Music blasting, the commentators really creating a party vibe in both German and English. Listening to them go through the names of the pros who were due to start in a few minutes really woke me up. SHIT WAS GETTING VERY REAL!!!
My swim start time was 07:55, whereas the pros were in the water around 06:30am. I would have loved to have started much earlier, but hey, that’s life. It’s something I have no control over, so just accept it and get on with it. It gave me time to soak it all in, to slow down and just focus on myself and what lay ahead for the rest of the day.
I was listening to the call for the pros to start in 30 seconds, then 10 seconds then the loudest BOOM that shook me sideways! They have a cannon they set off every swim wave start and hells bells its loud. There was a few times over the next hour where I was zoned out and this explosion brought me straight back to reality.
Going into the swim chute with 5 minutes before we start, I meet my good friend Carsten, with whom I’ve trained together over the last few months. A quick hug, a pat on the back and “good luck mate” and we’re in the water waiting for the cannon. I wanted to try and find some clear water, so I headed as close to the front of our group as I can. There is “30 seconds” countdown. One last deep breath, check my goggles again and BOOM...it scared the living hell out of me again! Here we go, its now time to just put my head down and let all my training take over. I went out strong, but controlled. Just kept telling myself – “it’s a long day Shane, don’t blow up in the swim”. I had noticed a guy just in front of me who had a bright orange wetsuit. He went off with arms like windmills in a hurricane. It was almost comical how fast he was swinging his arms. I had a little giggle to myself and and said I was going catch him. He pulled away and probably got 8-10 body lengths in front of me at one point. But I could still see him often enough when sighting.
One thing I noticed was that the water was super murky. It was quite hard to draft off of anyone in the water purely because you couldn’t see them! I honestly couldn’t even see my own hand in the water. To those that I “might have” swam over...sorry! I got to the 1st turning point in what felt quicker than expected. I’d settled into the swim quite comfortably. In my head, this was my first little victory for the day. Not long after the turn, there was my Oompah Loompah orange wetsuit friend. His arms now flopping onto the water like he’d just boxed 10 rounds. My silly little challenge was done, time to now just concentrate on finishing the swim. Rounding the 2nd turn and seeing literally thousands of people on the bridge was mind blowing. Just a few hundred meters left...the last few strokes into the exit. I look at my watch – 1h:07m:45s...I was a little disappointed as I’d secretly hoped for 1h:04m. But it was still under the 1h:09 target Lottie (my coach) had set for me. My official time was 1h:08m:05s which surprisingly was 577th fastest out of the few thousand racing. Not bad for an old fool with busted shoulders.
Into T1, the helpers were amazing. They helped get the wetsuit off and bagged away. Over to the bike, helmet on, racebelt on, shoes and socks on...lets go! As I’m pulling out of T1, literally 50m from the bike mount line I see some lady being helped by the ambulance team. I’m assuming here, but she must have been trying to sort her shoes and went straight into the fence and down into the ditch. It wasn’t pretty. I was thinking how shit that must have been for her to have her race over like that.
The Bike:
Out on the bike...damn I was smiling. My HR was under control, legs felt good, the lungs felt good too. Over the years I’ve had a tendency to go out a bit too hard and fast and of course blow up and end up having a shit race. This had been drummed into me not only from Lottie, but a lot of good friends who have also raced full distance triathlons, mostly from my good mate Lee. Time and again I was looking at my power on the bike and could hear him saying “you might feel good and just want to give it a push...but keep it controlled”. Everyone just kept telling me to hold it back, stick to the race plan and not get too excited. The bike course is two 85km loops with another 8/9km into town to T2. I’d been lucky enough to ride the course a few times a few weeks before the race, so knew exactly what I was in for. I had changed my gearing over just for the race – I was running a 53/39 on the front and 11/30 on the back. Which normally would be fine, but knowing how a few of the climbs had a nasty sting in them I had borrowed a 54/36 and an 11/32 (thanks Andrew). This gear ratio worked really well for me on race day, and I’m sure it saved my legs for the run. Coming through these little villages with music blaring, people out BBQ’ing and cheering us on just gave me so much energy...you really need to be there to experience it.
My fuel strategy for the bike was to carry two bottles with 2 x 80g SIS BETA carb mix plus 8 salt caps. I would dilute this mix by pouring it into my hydration system integrated on my bike. I’d pick up water bottles from the aid stations and just pour them into the hydration system. I’d also filled this with 1 x 80g SIS mix & four salt caps. I had an aero bottle on the bike with 2 x hydration tabs which, over the course of the morning, was a welcome change from the carb goop I was drinking. I had 4 gels and a load of Haribo chews and 6 x PowerBar PowerGels – which had a carb/caffeine mix. The caffeine did come in handy later on during the race.
At the 35km mark, we go up Greding for the first time. This hill is a bastard! Well, a bastard for a 100kg lump like me. It tops out at 13% incline, with the majority of it around 9%. The roar from the crowds plus the DJ and the tunes was epic. There was a few Aussie lads in the group as we were going up (can see our respective flags on our race numbers). A quick “g’day mate” and on we went. They pretty much all dropped me on the climb, but I knew we had one cracker of a descent in a few km and this is where I knew I’d pull them all back.
I was on the pedals going full gas down The Serpenine – what a descent!!! I’ll probably come unstuck one day trying to go too fast, but damn its enjoyable going as fast as possible on the trusty carbon steed. A quick look now on Strava for that downhill segment and I rank 190th out of 9,400 people who have recorded an effort down it. A useless statistic I know, sorry! Through the next 30km all was going really well. Being able to see everyone’s race numbers it gave me something to think about. We were started as per our race numbers, so seeing people with race numbers around the 1000 mark meant I had started an hour later and was passing them. These little mental victories really kept me pushing hard. But of course, deep down I was still absolutely shitting myself for the run that was to come.
The first 70km of the ride was in anticipation for what is possibly the most memorable moment for anyone and everyone who races Roth – Solar Hill (Solarer Berg). Around the corner and you look up and there it is! The inflatable arches, the thousands of people crowding the roads to the point the cyclists are in single file. The closest any of us will come to a climb on the Tour de France or the Giro etc.
I will be honest here and say I had tears in my eyes. The emotion was overwhelming. I had just passed Su and the kids who were at the bottom of the hill cheering not only me on, but every other person who went past. There is supposedly a good clip of American pro Sam Long going up it. He’s focused and trying to push hard, but in the end the crowd and the emotion take over and he’s smiling and cheering.
Onto lap two and around 130km or 140km mark, things started going to shit. I was bonking. I had been taking on my race fuel as I was supposed to but for some reason all I could think of was wanting to lay down and have a sleep for 3 or 4 minutes. Honestly...I was looking for a tree to sit against or a hedge to lay beside and in my mind this all made sense and was fine. I poured more the goop that was in my bottle down my throat. Another gel consumed. What I would have done at that moment for some food, like REAL FOOD and a cold beer. This lasted for probably 10/12 mins and then just like that, my energy had come back. I was smiling again, having fun again. Lap 2 of the race was pretty uneventful otherwise. Even Solar Hill...there wasn’t the crowds like the first lap, so it was just a case of getting the job done now and ready for hell – the run.
Into T2 in 5h:46:57 (officially) and now in 1140th position. Again, the helpers were brilliant. My brain fog meant I didn’t get out of my shoes and leave them on the pedals before dismounting. But the helper told me to take them off and he’ll store them with my bike and helmet. For a split second I thought “that’s the last I’ll see of the shoes” but just carried on. Into the tent to get changed – I had decided to change from my tri-suit onto running shorts and vest (thanks Georgie for the tip). The volunteers were helping all of us with suncream, handing out drinks etc. A quick toilet stop and off I went on the run...into the unknown!
The Run:
The “plan” was to try and run between aid stations and walk the aid stations, taking on a bit of water, Iso drinks or food as wanted/needed, plus 2-3 gels. Let’s be honest here, nobody had a great lot of confidence in me here...and I know this more than anyone, because I had the least confidence in myself. I was prepared for a very long walk if that is what it was going to take to finish.
It was hot – I am even more useless when its hot.
I definitely had not done the required amount of run training.
I’d never done more than 21km in my life.
I’d just ridden 180km...
I had arranged with Su to try and be at the cross roads where we would pass 3 times during the run, about 4km, 12km and 25km (something like that). Carsten had also arranged for his wife Catherine to be there too. Unfortunately Su hadn’t been able to get across from Solar Hill yet but Catherine was there as I shuffled on past her and she gave me the news. I was feeling great. Legs were great, lungs were great, I wasn’t suffering at all.
Down along the canal I just kept moving at a steady pace – around 6:05min/km. No land speed records being broken here, but good for me. I was through 10km in literally just over an hour! Approaching the 12km point, I was hoping to see Su and the kids, but again they still hadn’t been able to get there. I’d see Catherine again and she passed on the message that they were stuck on the local bus. Around 18km I hear this “c’mon you Aussie bastard, run faster” and there on the side of the track, was a German friend of mine who I work with from time to time. He lived close and came with his wife and family to watch us suffer...this lifted me so much. It’s amazing what something like this can do when you’re so deep into the pain cave. Admittedly I was still feeling really good, and holding 6:20/6:30min km pace. Coming back through the 25km point, I hear this lady start to yodel...I almost stopped and turned around. I shouted out the biggest – “YES, THAT IS SO COOL”. She went into one almighty Austrian alpine style yodel....I was laughing and smiling and forgot where I was for a moment or two.
“There’s Daddy”!!! 26km into the run, and there they were. My wife and kids, with good friend Hannah and her two kids – they’d flown up from Spain to watch me race (suffer). I stopped for a quick hug and to tell Su that something wasn’t right. I was feeling way too good...I was still running! She said I was looking much fresher than many of the others. Tears in my eyes, on I shuffled.
Maybe 2km down the path and I hear this “c’mon Aussie” and there was my amazing friend Miriam (also German), who only the night before had messaged to say her husband and baby weren’t well and that they couldn’t make it to see the race. Yet throughout the morning, she was on the tracker the whole time her husband Johannes told her to get down and see me. She drove 3 hours each way just to see me for a few minutes...of course this lifted me massively and these little interactions gave me such an energy boost.
My pace had slowed a little, but everything was still going so well. I had made a concerted effort not to get wet and most importantly keep my feet and shoes dry. I’d made this mistake too many times before and was seeing so many people suffering and sloshing along. As we hit the last 10km, this was where the run really kicks you in the arse! Up until this point, it had been nearly all flat, but now came the hills. Up I shuffled, legs and lungs still working better than they’d ever had before...but I was starting to feel a few little stomach cramps.
It was now that I actually allowed myself to believe that I was going to finish this race, and considerably quicker than I could have hoped. But...I was also waiting for the bonk. Time and again I’d heard from people who had run marathons that at some point you get buried deep in a pain cave and really have to fight it and push on. Somehow, this wasn’t the case. I had allowed myself to walk for maybe a minute or two up the steepest part of the hills, but other than that, my legs kept ticking over.
Up into the village of Büchenbach at the 36km mark. The party up here was going OFF!! Holy shit, I would have loved to stop and just nudge a few pints of Bavarian lager with the Germans...If I ever go back as a spectator, this is where I’ll be for a large part of the day getting “hydrated”. Hahaha
Around the village duck pond I shuffled, back onto the road and some dude just randomly hands me a large plastic cup filled with ice. How or why he chose me, I don’t know but you can’t imagine how good it was. The next aid station was only a few hundred metres further down the road and I filled my cup of ice with Coke. Down it went in about 20 seconds! Maybe not the best idea considering I hadn’t really had any solid foods since 4am. The aforementioned little stomach cramps were by now much more – they were a “feeling” if you know what I mean. I now had a dilemma – do I stop at the next toilet and hope my legs keep working once I stand up again or push on (no pun intended) to the finish. I chose the latter. On I wobbled...by the 38/39km mark, I was in a world of hurt! My legs were now shot. My stomach was so badly twisted that the thought of farting scared the shit out of me (again, no pun intended). I’d slowed a bit, but still moving. My quads were smashed. It was purely one foot in front of the other and this massive mental fight to resist the urge to walk or sit down. The cheers from the crowd, all of them saying it was almost finished and that I was going to finish kept me moving. There was only 4 thoughts in my head now:
1. I hope Su has managed to get to the finish line and the kids are there waiting for me. 2. Keep moving. Don’t stop. Legs hurt. Don’t stop.
3. Don’t shit yourself...hold it in. Don’t shit yourself.
4. Shane – you’re going to finish this!!! F**K I was going to finish this!!!!
The last 500m and this wave of emotion almost stopped me. Seeing my kids there was the icing on the cake. I grab their hands – not so easy holding the hands of 3 kids whilst trying to run. Just as we enter the finish chute, I almost see my arse. I’d tripped on the carpet and almost went over...somehow managed to stay vertical. How much of a plank would I have looked tripping over 100m from the finish line in the Roth Stadium?
Over the line in 12h:02min:47sec. I had just run a 4h:52 marathon...literally an hour quicker than expected! I’d done it. Overall I placed 1191. This old fool was beyond stoked. Funnily, speaking with a friend the other day, he said to tell people my time was 11hrs:62mins which made me giggle...2 minutes and I could have gone sub 12! Who would have thought? Not me, that’s for sure.
I got my race medal and sat down for two minutes. I nearly blacked out. My legs were now giving up, as was any form of muscle I had holding in the previous 13/14 hours of gels and crap I’d been consuming. The kids helped me up and off in search of a toilet we went. Found one, but there was a line up...man, I was in trouble. I was nearly blacking out. I had to hold onto whatever I could to stay upright. I was vomiting some black stuff – presumably the Coke I’d drank not long before. I’ll save you the details, but I made it safely to the toilet.
To say I was happy, elated, tired, proud, relieved and whatever else is an understatement. Fast forward a few weeks and thinking back to the race makes me smile. I loved the whole day, every single minute! But...I don’t think I’ll do another full distance triathlon for a few years though. I’ll wait until the kids are a little older before I sacrifice so much time away from them. Maybe just do a few 70.3’s...they almost seem easy now. ;-)
But more than anything, I’m thankful....
