Iron Jack

I’m sitting on a plane on the way back from a four day holiday in Queenstown and Central Otago. When the wedding invitation arrived earlier in the year for a wedding in the middle of nowhere – okay Glenorchy – it was the opportunity we needed to leave the boys in Auckland for a week with the grandparents, and take a much-needed break just for the two of us. 

The wedding was for my dear friend Jasmine – a friendship forged at Outward Bound, and then over many drinks during a weekend in Dunedin for me, and another in Wellington for her. She was the “baby” of our “tight five” at Outward Bound – a core group of us who literally got each other through – Stu, Kath, Pete, Jaz and myself.

I had been to Stu’s wedding in Dunedin in 1999, Kath’s in 2003, and she flew back from Africa from ours later that year. Kath and I – the two red-heads of the bunch – have remained close and in close contact, sharing births of children and other life experiences. I had lost touch with Stu and then Jaz, and hadn’t actually seen or talked to Pete since Outward Bound. Apart from Kath, we were all reunited at Jasmine’s wedding. And true to form for her, it was the most Outward Bound wedding of them all, with the ceremony in the middle of a forest in the middle of nowhere, and the reception 30 minutes down a gravel road. And all the memories have come flooding back.

It’s now been 12 years since we took on Outward Bound, and I still carry it with me every day. It extended me in more ways than I could ever have expected or hoped for. And in fact I haven’t been stretched this far until my journey to Ironman began. When I was preparing for Outward Bound, I was living in Taupo, was single, a bit of a party girl, and had lost my way when it came to my career (hard to believe now!). At the time, I was often asked why I, of all people, was doing it.

Even my doctor expressed his surprise when he was giving me the medical all-clear to go.

“But you’re already such a strong, confident person, why do you need to go to Outward Bound?”

I’d also thought I was pretty good in the confidence stakes. I already knew I was assertive (my dad calls it bossy) and had a good level of self-esteem, and I was pretty fond of taking a leadership role (again with the bossy). I thought I was going to work on the fitness side of things.

Outward Bound certainly did stretch me on the physical side. I never realised what true exhaustion was and through aching and pain I found new muscles I never knew I had. I don’t think I’ll ever forget walking straight up hill, through solid bush, for four hours solid, carrying all our gear, running out of water and crying from exhaustion and effort. I didn’t think I could take another step further. But of course you do. And then you take another one, and another, and before you know it, four hours have gone by and you’re at the top. It’s an amazing feeling and one I’ll carry with me forever.

The day I arrived at Outward Bound I made a promise to myself that my low levels of fitness would not stop me achieving anything while I was at Outward Bound and it was a promise I kept. The rest of Hilary watch were much, much fitter than me. I was the slowest by far. But I kept plodding up the hill and used my mental energy to get me there.

Outward Bound pushed my personal barriers and took me to new levels. I found new limits, and I also found ways to push those limits and to take it one step further.

Twelve years on, I still apply these philosophies to my every day life. At work when I think I just can’t take anymore, I look back within myself and carry on going. I’m constantly setting new goals – both in my personal and professional life – and not a day goes by that I don’t think about Outward Bound and what it did for me.

I left Outward Bound an even stronger person than I was when I arrived. Sure I was fitter, but I was mentally stronger than I ever had been before.

As I think back on it now, I realise that Ironjack is my new Outward Bound. Its stretching my physically more than anything since Outward Bound. In fact, I’m fitter now than I was at Outward Bound. But its also about the mental game. Its all in my head. If I can beat that, I can do anything.

To the “tight five”, thanks for bringing back the memories.

My back creaks from neck to toe.

But not from sore muscles.

Unfortunately, I’m suffering from one of the worst cases of sunburn I have had in years and years.

Being a redhead, I’m generally pretty careful in the sun. I fry easily - I do then tan, unlike most redheds - but I definitely tend to pink very quickly.

I managed a quick 1km swim in the outdoor pool at lunchtime on Friday - and came out with a distinct tan line. I even reminded myself then, that after just 20 minutes I’d collected a tan so it was time to sort out some sunblock.

Saturday dawned fine and clear - slightly cool and a bit windy, but definitely one of those “summer is coming” kind of days. I’d already done my 6km run - and got very hot while doing it. I talked myself into the car and on to the pool. A 2km drill set with a few 500m lots at Ironman pace thrown in for good measure. I wasn’t convinced I was up for it but jumped in regardless. I was so focused on the fact that I didn’t want to be there, I completely forgot about the sun, and the crystal clear water which would amplify its rays.

As I headed off I really didn’t want to do 2km. In fact, for most of the swim I was battling it in my head. By the time I was halfway I decided to just do a bit more; by the time I’d done two-thirds I decided I may as well finish. I was also congratulating myself on my stroke which was decidedly better than its been in a while.

My 2km done I jumped straight out the pool, threw on a towel and headed home. After a quick shower and an even quicker nap (Toby is teething, oh happy days!) it was time to throw some glad rags on for a family photo. I was starting to feel a bit pink and sore on one shoulder - and noticed I’d developed a million new freckles on my forehead - in the shape of my bathing cap. Very attractive.

“I caught a bit of sun today,” I said to Mike as I jumped in the car. “I’m going to have to get sorted with some more sun block for the next swim.”

Several hours later I went to slap some aloe vera gel on my shoulder - and caught sight of the rest of it. Bright pink, the whole way down my back and down the back of my legs - all in the shape of my speedo togs. Ouch. Won’t be forgetting the sun block again!

It was a cold, crisp evening as about ten of us lined up our bikes and wind trainers facing Rotorua’s Blue Lake. It had been a stunning day, warm in town, and I’d been looking forward to the season’s new brick training session all day.

RATs, our local Tri club, has spent winter Wednesday nights spinning in a local gym. Its usually packed with up to 40 plus people lined up with bikes, wind trainers and extremely loud music doing super-efficient spinning sessions with Lawrence. With the onset of daylight savings, and the 2009/10 tri season, winter Wednesdays have made way for outdoor brick sessions instead.

You couldn’t ask for a more picturesque setting. Rotorua’s Blue and Green lakes are located about 10 minutes drive from town, and are renowned as one of the must-see tourist spots in New Zealand. When you stand at the lookout in between, one lake - the Blue or Tikitapu - looks electric blue to the eye; turn around and you take in the Green lake or Rotokakahi, which looks a sea-green.

In summer we use the lake for open water swim training, we run around the lake on a 5.5km forestry trail, we bike on road and in forest across the area. Its an amazing outdoor wonderland and its right on our back doorstep. Lucky? You bet.

So anyway, we line up on the lakefront on our stationery bikes. Yes I am the first to admit that we must have looked like a bunch of idiots. A cold bunch of idiots at that. My day-long daydream about how we would be sitting in the sun, in front of a still, crystal lake was rapidly blown as soon as I arrived. It was blowing hard and straight into shore. So we’re sitting on our stationery bikes, with five layers on, and blue fingers and lips.

And we’re off. A very intense spin session (approximately 10 minutes), designed to mimic a hard road ride. A loud shout from Lawrence and we’re jumping off the bikes, into our running shoes, and taking off up the hill on the first of two laps. I thought I was going to be sick. I reached the top of the hill, rounded the cone and honestly thought I was about to keel over - this is, of course, on the back of a serious tummy bug where I had lost five kilos in four days. But I made it back around the bikes, and around again for the second lap.

Back on the bike for the next spin session. Long and hard. And off again for another two laps. And then the next spin session and off for a three lap run. And a final burst and then cool-down.

It was the hardest training session I’ve ever done. I hurt everywhere. And I LOVED it! I was on the biggest buzz and am still buzzing today, over 24 hours later. Of course I can’t walk properly because I hurt so much, but I’m already counting the sleeps until the next one.