Ivar Formo's Minneløp 2016 - med kropp som minnet mer om Donald Trump enn OL-mester Formo

En hutrig oktober-lørdag med 17 km på sti blant høstfarget skog og med flere av Nordmarkas perler (alle som har nytt utsikten fra Vettakollen kjenner seg igjen) som passeringspunkter på løypekartet.

Bilde fra nettet - Vettakollen

Det hørtes ut som en fristende måte å sette et definitivt punktum for mosjonistsesongen 2016.

Påmelding ble klikket gjeldende for flere måneder siden og har tjent som ok motivasjon for å holde kroppen så nogenlunde i gang de siste månedene...som et slags alibi for sofakveldene med potetgull (som det var minimalt av før august, men som har blitt mangfoldige nå).

Ivar Formo - arrangørklubben Lyn's store helt - med OL-gull fra 5-mila i Innsbruck i 76. Dette løpet er til minne om denne skikongen som tragisk omkom på treningstur i Nordmarka i 2006.

Dessverre har kroppen min ikke gitt assosiasjoner til OL-medaljer og skikonger de siste månedene (rett skal være rett, har vel ikke akkurat tenkt på OL-medaljer tidligere heller).
Kroppen har istedet minnet om denne karen:

For akkurat som Donald Trump kødder det til for seg selv hver eneste gang meningsmålingene har gått ett skritt i riktig retning (ned, opp og ned igjen), så har denne rustne kroppen hatt et "annenhver dag" regime siden sommeren gikk over til høst.
En dag kjennes den ok ut, mens den neste ankommer med sår hals, hodepine eller bare en kjip følelse.
Kroppen har som presidentkandidat Trump falt NED-OPP og NED igjen. Litt sånn kontinuerlig med håndbrekket på liksom.
(men kan med 99% sannsynlighet avkrefte at det finnes 10 år gamle videoer av undertegnede der ute med tafsing på vilkårlige jenter)

Med dette som utgangspunkt (sår hals, 23 desiliter snørr i nesa, trøtt, kanskje 2 kg for høy kroppsvekt og med en halv pose Maarud salt&pepper i næringstanken) kjørte jeg til Sognsvann og tuslet ned til Lyn-huset denne lørdagen i oktober.
Startnummer 171 klar for 17 km i Nordmarka.

Startskuddet ljomer.
Startfeltet raser fremover blant bygningsarbeidene ved Idrettshøyskolen og videre ut på grusveien ved Sognsvann.
1 km transport før feltet svinger til høyre inn på stien som går forbi Bånntjern og videre mot Vettakollen.
De sterkeste drar raskt i fra. Det er landslagsløpere i friidrett, medaljevinnere fra orienterings-VM, norgesmestere i motbakkeløping og masse sterke langrennsfolk.
De forsvinner raskt som prikker der fremme på stien.

Jeg blir liggende i "gruppe 4" i starten. 
Prøver å åpne kontrollert, for å ha krefter igjen mot slutten.
Det stiger jevnt og trutt oppover den brede stien.
Tar igjen gruppe 3 før stigningen til Vettakollen starter for alvor.

150 høydemeter opp til Vettakollen.
Smalere sti nå. 
Steinete.
Tar ytterligere noen passeringer og ankommer toppen...20.plass...godt pustende, men med spreke bein og lykkefølelse over at masse lystbeont stiløping gjenstår.
Lykkefølelsen varer i 74 sekunder.
Da blir jeg taklet knallhardt av en tjukk grantre-rot i det som må karakteriseres som en veldig ureglementert forseelse....mener jeg...med den usynlige dommeren vifter nok helt riktig bort klagen min. Dommeren gestikulerer videre at fallet skyldes kløning fra unge Therkelsen. Jeg kan til slutt ikke gjøre annet enn å samtykke.
Jeg sklir bortover stien med albue og hofte som tangeringspunkter mot naturen. Jeg stopper brått da høyre kne treffer en stein.
Blir passert av 2-3 stykker mens jeg hangler meg opp igjen.
Kneet er vondt noen kilometer videre, men smertene blir helt borte etterhvert.

Stien forbi Fuglemyra er morsom, men krevende.
Mye røtter, mye stein.
Derfor føles den bratte kilometern på grus opp til Frønsvollen som et deilig avbrekk tross stigningsprosent med doble siffer.
Løper bra opp her og tar igjen et par av de jeg ble fraløpt av etter Vettakollen.
Så får jeg et tungt parti igjen.
Ny teknisk sti mellom Frønsvollen og Skjennungstua.
Antydning til murring i magen.
21.plass ved passering Skjennungstua.

Høyeste punkt.
Ca 470 m.o.h.
Noen nye grus-kilometer venter.
I bratt terreng NEDOVER mot Ullevålseter.
Optimisme.
Vi er halvveis i distanse og mer enn halvveis i løpstid.
Jeg føler det er masse krefter igjen.
Men Donald Trump-kroppen tåler ikke utforløpingen og hold på høyre siden av magen melder sin ankomst.
Farta må ned igjen, egentlig før den i det hele tatt var satt opp.

Ullevålseter og ny sti nedover mot Lyn-hytta.
Enda mer krevende enn stiene før.
Skikkelig steinete.
Jeg har alltid tenkt at jeg er ganske god i terrenget, men nå klumser jeg meg nedover.
Taper stadig noen plasseringer igjen.

Det flater ut og det blir mer grus igjen.
Vestsiden av Sognsvann.
Tross litt sånn overskyet høstvær så blir flere mentale bilder over vakker norsk natur lagret i hjernens harddisk.

Løper bra de siste kilometerne og tar 3-4 plasseringer.

Krysser målstreken ganske fornøyd.
Et brukbart løp, men som med meningsmålingene til Trump: definitivt noen tilbakeslag underveis.

1.15.16.
20. plass av 289 startende.
Tusen takk til alle de frivillige som gjorde dette til en super lørdag formiddag i Nordmarka.
Et morsomt arrangement, knallfin løype og en fin avslutning på mosjoniståret 2016.
Jeg går nå tilbake til sofatilværelsen i 14 dager før blikket rettes mot 2017.

Klatrekongen 2016 - svette melkesyremeter opp til Tryvann

Sagene Klatrekonge 2016.

Genialt konsept.
Strålende arrangert.

Strava står for seeding...hver enkelt's bestenoteringer i 2016 fra Tryvann, fra Kongsveien og fra Grefsenkollen.
5 syklister i hver pulje.
Rullekjøring inn og ut Sørkedalen. 
Deretter kamp mot medsyklister og ikke minst mot egen smerteterskel på vei oppover forbi Oslos landemerke #1 - Holmenkollen - og videre mot Tryvanntårnet, der det ruver ca 500 høydemeter over Oslofjord-bølgene som skvulper mot Aker Brygge.

12 måneder siden sist da jeg karret kalvete knær og melkesyre-stinne lår over målstreken som nr 37 på tiden 45.06.
http://trippeltherkelsen.blogspot.no/2015/09/sagene-klatrekonge-2015.html

4.13 på Kongsveien
5.05 i Grefsenkollen
17.03 fra Tryvann
ga en 68.plass på Klatrekonge-lista i forkant av arrangementet.
http://www.klatrekonge.com/herrer-oslo
Noe bedre seeding enn i fjor, som betydde en litt raskere gruppe på flatene i Sørkedalen.

Startsted Bogstadvannet.
En tirsdagskveld i September.
En tirsdagskveld i Indian Summer-kostyme, der selv kort-kort ble en habitt som ga rennende svette.

Før tirsdag kveld var det tirsdag morgen.
En av de morningene der ingrediensene som ble rørt sammen gjorde at DNS egentlig lenge var et most-likely-scenario.
Nattlig slåsskamp med nabolagets nye kjæledyr, grevlingen Georg, kunne egentlig blitt ansett som oppvarming, og sykkelturen til barnehagen med småtrolla var preget av september-solen som farget himmelen oransje. Smilet bredt så langt.

Men...da begge dekkene ble tomme for luft på vei inn til jobb langs Tour de Finance...da var humøret senket til ganske langt ned på lykkeskalaen.
Jeg vinket på følgebilen og ropte opp sportsdirektøren på intercomen uten at det var hjelp å få.
Måtte i stedet humpe oppover Bygdøy Alle med et minimum av psi under gummien.

Tirsdag kveld igjen.
En spiker i fordekket senere.
En fikset ventil i bakdekket.
Status på lykkebarometeret langt høyere igjen, tross at kontorområdet nå ser ut som en halvstor sportsforretning / sykkelverksted til sjefens store fortvilelse.

Reservehjulsettet (fra IKEA?) måtte i bruk.

Kontorstol og ....sykkelverksted.

Sykkelen klar. Med startnummer 147, skitten og med ulike hjul

Startområdet

INDIAN SUMMER

18 km med forholdsvis flatt terreng i Sørkedalen.
Vi tok føringer på 20-30 sekunder.
Det brant i lårene de første gangene jeg var fremst, men bedret seg etterhvert.
26 minutter senere var vi i bunn av bakken med en snittfart på ca 41,4 km/t.
Ca 1 minutt bedre enn på samme sted i 2015.
Lår som tømmerstokker.
Sykkeltrøye klissvåt av lun september-svette.

Vi holder sammen frem til den første serpentiner-svingen ved Besserud. Tenker at jeg må kjøre mitt eget tempo i motsetning til i fjor da jeg var alt for ivrig i starten av bakken og fikk en blytung reise siste halvdel.
2 stykker siger i fra.
De to siste siger også i fra oppover partiet mot restauranten, men luken blir ikke kjempestor.
Vet at det er en stor fordel å ha et bakhjul foran seg i det litt flatere partiet forbi hoppbakken.
Klarer å komme opp igjen til de to foran.
Det blir brattere igjen idet Midtstu-bakken passeres.
2 er langt foran, 
mens 1 slipper bak.

Sykler sammen med 1 mann 
og er redd for å spenge trommehinnene hans 
idet pustingen min slår ut med røde varselsignaler 
på decibel-måleren nede på Geologisk institutt.

Foto: lånt fra Klatrekongen's Facebook-side

Avkjøringa til Frognerseteren og vi svinger venstre.
Bratt, bratt kneik.
Sloss oss oppover.
100 meter falsk flate, før det igjen knekker til to-siffrig prosent under t-banen og videre oppover mot Øvrestertjern.
Brillene dogger.
Hjertet hamrer så hardt i brystet at de 7 hårene på brystet før start nå har blitt til bare 4.
Høyresving og siste kneik opp mot tårnet.
Han andre siger litt i fra.
På stive bein må jeg reise meg i bukken og vakle opp de siste høydemeterne.
Spurter UTEN økt fart inn under målbuen til lukten av grillede pølser og til lyden av Eurosport-Arild i speakermikrofonen.

43.06.
Akkurat 2 min bedre enn i fjor, hjulpet av en litt raskere pulje på flatene og litt smartere kjøring i bakken.

26.plass av 143 startende.
Opp 11 plasser fra 2015.

Hiver meg over cola og potetgull i målområdet, 
mens folk venter spent på de beste.

Målområdet!
Foto: Martin P. Hoff

Den toppseedede pulja, med Birken-vinnere,
OL-deltagere og Norgesmestere i motbakkeløping.
Foto: lånt fra Klatrekongen's Facebookside

Hagen og Løvik.
Kontinental-rytterne, Birken-vinnerne de to siste årene og de to beste Tryvann-tidene på Strava.Foto: lånt fra Klatrekongen's Facebookside

Seierspallen.
Foto: Martin P.Hoff

Vinnertiden til Hagen var 4,5 minutter bedre enn min.

Sinnsykt mye gitt den korte distansen, men samtidig godt å se at de klatretrøyene CF Hagen har vunnet i etapperitt i 2016-sesongen krever betyyyyydelig mer kapasitet enn det en kalvete kontormosjonist og grevling-fighter innehar.

Takk til Sagene IF Sykkel for et strålende arrangement.

Norseman 2016 - Race report - english version

A great experience deserves a long and extensive story.
Sorry about the vast amount of words - I suggest that all those 4 regular readers of the blog take a vacation day and make a big pot of coffe.

Looking back => a rainy Sunday morning in november 2015:

"The time is 05.10 AM. 
It's really early on one of those dark Sundays, typical Norwegian fall.
I was deep into a pee-diper and was fighting to keep Jacob, the early bird baby son, in the right position.
I was really looking forward to the morning's first cup of coffe as a medicine to wash the lack of sleep out of my tired eyes, when I suddenly remembered that this was THAT Sunday.
I defended another attempt by Jacob to dive onto the tiled floor and put on a Libero in world record speed.
We sprinted to the kitchen.
Jacob got his milk and I fumbled to the mailbox on my phone, really just to confirm that this was just another moment where the dream of Mount Gaustatoppen would end already in November."

"Welcome to the Isklar Norseman..."

I couldn't believe it.
Had to read it over and over again, just to make sure that this wasn't a foul trick by tired eyes.
A few seconds later only good isolation prevented me from waking up the entire familiy - I was cheering and roaring loudly....the lottery God had befriended me!

The dream could continue!"
http://trippeltherkelsen.blogspot.no/2015/11/norseman-i-2016.html

273 DAYS LATER...
500 hours of training
7.000 km of cycling, inkl countless days as an environmentally-friendly job-comuter.
1.550 km with running shoes and sore knees due to the veal footed position.
Almost 90.000 metres of swimming, still with lousy technique, but definitely with a truckload full of enthusiasm.
113 pizzas
and 200 cinnamon buns
after recommendations from the Olympic nutriation team (in my dreams).
After all that

...I'm suddenly on the brink of a ferry together with 259 other crazy triathletes, all eager to dive into the cold brackish Norwegian fjord water.

Sorry for the jumping back and forth in time, but I feel that this is the perfect place to write the following:
THANKS A MILLION!

...to the organisers/NXTRI-crew that, every day, works increadibly hard to create and re-create this adventure.
...to the fellow athletes and their support-teams
...to family and friends that cheered, smiled and motivated, either along the couse or in various versions of social media.
...to kind and enthuastiastic colleagues that kept up with continuing nagging about neopren, aerodynamics and speed per kilometer, and who wasn't complaining when I ate all the food in the canteen.

As Race director Dag Oliver said in the pre-race meeting:

Norseman was definitely an experience, an amazing one.
I'm incredibly happy that I got to share that experience with all you guys.

EIDFJORD:
The population of the little town in Hardanger, Norway is doubled when the big cruiseships arrive with all their tourists.
And it's trippled when hundreds of station-wagons appear with all their bike racks on the first weekend of August.
Out of the cars come fit-looking triathletes and transform the town into an expo surrounded by breathtaking nature.
The smell of neopren and heat salve exceeded the aroma of egg & bacon in the dining area at the hotel, while the balconys were used as an outdoor drying machine for the wet suits.
The amount of expensive bikes in the hallway created an inndoor traficjam and the local stores were emptied for all their calories.
We were first-timers and we loved the atmosphere!

The personal welcome from the hotel,
Quality Hotel Vøringsfoss,
was really appreciated.

Support-members with a refreshing
bath during Friday's run

Merethe and Stian, and Jan Harald and Morten from Team Lærum Berg.
Probably sceptical on whether Beate and Marius
could manage the 3,8 km swim the following day!

Last little run before the big day.
Photo: Asian tourist

Morning-test of the water Friday morning.
Cold, but ok.
Is it the bad crawl-technique
that's giving Stian a laughter?

Lots of people tested the water a bit later.
HUUB Socail swim.

Quality Hotel Vøringsfoss is the centre of occasion
on triathlon-Eidfjord at the first weekend of August.

Moder Earth was in her best mood during Friday.
Sunshine made us bewitched by the beutiful scenery - this was Norway at it's very best....
...on Friday anyway...
...because on the evening the sun lost its fight against the rain, and the wind made an extensive appearance.
The water was no longer calm.

Hence, it was a nervous group of people that ate their dinner on Friday evening.
The start of Norseman was getting closer and the meterologists were estimating a tough Saturday on our road from west to east.
The time was 21.30.
Bedtime!

A flat tire, 
a divorce
and 5 trips to the bathroom
was what seperated me from the digital sound of the alarm clock the next "morning".
More on this later!

THE SWIM:

Ring - ring - rrrriiiiinnnnggg.
02.50 AM.
The iPhone is dancing in a vibrating manner on the night-stand.
Everything is planned with German-like dicipline.
Everything is ready.
Clothes on.
Breakfast.
Check-in into T1.
Last trip to the men's room.
Hugs, kisses and "break a leg"'s.
On to the ferry at 03.45.
Complete darkness.
Magical atmosphere.
04.00 and the ferry is leaving dock.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit...no way back!

On the way to the ferry

I'm feeling calm on the ferry.
Strangely enough.
The thoughts are rushing in my head.
...happy thoughts that I don't have to participate in the world's longest toilet-queue on the ferry.
...that the body is feeling good and ready.
...that the cold/illness that I've been sort of expecting over the last week has never identified itself.
...and...about the swimming over the last 9 months:

Almost 90.000 metres.
Way too little during the pool-season in wintertime, but lucklily a bit more when OW-season was kickstarted in May.
The technique just as bad in July as in November,
no progress in pacing witnessed, 
but still with faith in achieving my self-made target of a 1 hour 15 min swim time (approx 2 min/100m).

04.35 AM.
Wetsuit on.
Neopren socks.
2X swimcaps.
Down to the car deck on the ferry to get soaked by the fire hose, adapting to the water temperature.

Photo: NXTRI's Facebook-page

Photo: NXTRI's Facebook-page

...and all of a sudden I'm on the brink of a ferry together with 259 other crazy triathletes, all eager to dive into the cold brackish Norwegian fjord water.
Start-number 93.
Ready for Norseman 2016.

04.50 AM.
Ferry hatch is opening.
Athletes cheering,
clapping eagerly and excited.
I'm in second or third row, staring out in the dark, dark night.
I can see the kayaks forming an invisible starting line a couple of hundred metres away...and far, faaaar away I can see lights from the town of Eidfjord.
The jump!
The first ones jump into the water, while I take the last couple of steps.
A last breath.
Not nervous, instead 100% focused on avoiding the nightmare of the swim googles dissapearing from hitting the water.
I jump.
Holding onto the googles.
Wow.
Cool.
I swim towards the starting line, while confirming that the water temperature isn't bad at all, maybe around 15 degrees celsius.
Feels like the entire Atlantic ocean is tranforming into fog inside my googles, so I don't have clear view until 90 minutes later.

Photo: Kai Otto Melau

05.00 AM.
Tuuuuuuut.
The ferry horn is screaming throughout the fjord.
260 triathletes are creating a washing machine as they're crawling their way towards the end of the fjord.

Photo: Blenne Photography

I feel I get a good start.
Focusing on controlled breathing.
The water is far from calm.
It feels easy in the beginning, but I don't have a clue on neither speed, position nor how far we have swum.

After a while, I feel that we have been in the water for half an eternity, and the yellow buoy that we're going around before entering the last 1000 metres isn't coming any closer.
I find some feet to draft upon, but looses them almost immediately.
I feel that I swim too much left, then too much right, never going in the fastest direction.

There I turn around the buoy.
We turn left and start on the last 1000 m of the swim leg.
Familiar territory.
I tested this part on the Friday morning swim.
The temperature is definitely colder in here closer to shore, and the waves is coming from the left in an agressive manner.
As the mediocre swimmer I am, I only breathe to one side....yeah, to the left of course...I swallow 3,7 litre of Hardangerfjord-water before I can see the ferry dock through the foggy goggles.
The waves push me towards the dock and at one point I'm actually swimming under the wooden pir.
I laugh self-ironically, before another couple of mouthfuls of fjordwater replaces laughter with coughing.

I stumble onto the beach og spit out 0,5 metre of sea weed.
A quick look at my Garmin.
1.22.
7 minutes slower than my goal.
A dissatisfied feeling is trying to attack me, but I brush it quickly away.

This is exactly the right moment to introduce you to MERETHE, the most beutiful half of my supportteam.
I've been in love with Merethe ever since she jumped me in the queue in the university-cafeteria back in year 2000.

When we registered for the race on Friday, the guy from the crew asked: 
"Who is the lucky person who will be your main-support and get the honour of dressing and undressing you throughout the race?"
I smiled and nodded a bit shy towards Merethe, while answering:
"That must be she who is eager to undress me every night then, I guess!" :)

Merethe is inspecting the swim-exit and the way into T1

Merethe =>
Chief of Nutrition
Brings a solid piece of competition-mentality, which camuflates a not-always-working right knee.
Definitely shopping-responsible (in more ways than one).
Very disrespectful towards the planning-encyclopedia on Thursday, but in contrast, more busy with
Spotify
Sushi
and with empting the Sporting goods store at Geilo for various clothes.

Merethe showed lack of interest in the
planning-details in the days prior to the race.
Kind of hard to believe, as in my opinion,
these 27 pages of detailed planning
was John Grisham-like entertaining.

"Ah, bad swimming" I cough as Merethe pulls me up towards T1 and the area where bike and gear were ready.
"No, no, very good", Merethe claims, 
"the conditions were tough and everybody have used more time than normal. You're around 110".
Already there I bless Merethe as a support-person.
Her motivation was like gold the entire day.

T1 transition area:

06.23 AM.
As we arrive in T1, my mind drifts 9 hours back...to the hotel room at Friday evening....when everything was ready, all planned and clothes in the right bags. 
When all left was to jump into bed and hopefully get some hours of sleep.
...when we all of a sudden discovers that the back tire on my bike is flat.
Completely flat.
I can feel that my heart rate all of sudden reaches 191 - my maximum. Trouble with the bike at this time is the worst nightmare possible.
A 14 decibel scream from Merethe in the chair just behind me pushes the heart to a new record of 194 beats per minute, kind of surprised that she's that worried over a bike.
Or?
"Martha and Ari is having a divorce" she screams after taking a breath, showing us the flash-message on her mobile.

Norway's biggest tabloid is announcing the divorce of
princess Martha and her author-husband Ari Behn.

For a couple of seconds it's complete silence in the room.
I'm lost for words.
There is a bike crisis just a few hours before the NXTRI-start, and my main support is busy about royal family rumours.

Equally lack of technical expertise.

We try to inflate the tyre.
Nothing works.
It's always been trouble with that valve-extension.
I look out the window and see those mechanics at the InterSport-stand. They're almost finished de-rigging the stand.
I bring the wheel and take a Usain Bolt-sprint down the hallway and outside.
The guys are really friendly and serviceminded, while I feel like the biggest amateur in the whole world.
They show me a little rift in the tyre and say that it will be risky using this for the 180 km across Hardangervidda.

Shit!
Pro and con analysis.
I brought an extra set of wheels in the car: 
heavier, a bit slower, but apparently much less risky in the current situation.
We change and head to bed.

2 hours later I haven't even been close to fall asleep.
Instead I have had 5 trips to the bathroom.
The nerves have arrived...big time.
Not due to the forecasted heavy wind and rain, not due to the debut of long-distance triathlon.
Nerves because of the wheel, the wrong brake bads and the wrong thru-axle.

Time machine again.
Back to T1.
The bike is ready.
With the original set of wheels.
Because at Friday evening, after the change of wheels, we managed to inflate the tyre.
And today waking up, the air pressure was still very good, so I gambled that it wasn't a puncture after all.
"But what do you do if it turns flat again, Marius?" Merethe asked before T1 check-in, "as you know, we can't give you any support before Vøringsfossen, 20 km into the bike leg."
I smiled.
"Then I run...up the climb...like Chris Froome on Mount Ventoux. Wouldn't that be a good story".

Froome's bike was destroyed by a
camera motor cycle at Mt Ventoux.
Without the team Sky support car close,
the yellow jersey had to run on his cycling shoes up the steep hill.

Wetsuit and swim gear off.
Tri-suit and calves already on.
Socks
Cycling jersey
Reflective vest
Helmet and glasses.
Merethe pushes a piece of bread and an immodium pill in my mouth.
I give her a quick kiss with the taste of wholegrain and run out of the transition area.
On to the bike and pedalling out of the town of Eidfjord.

BIKE-LEG:

I ride through the centre of Eidfjord while I work down the piece of bread, trying to hold somewhat back on the first, fairly flat 8-9 kilometres.
I overtake some athletes, but also get the feeling of being a turtle when a Bundegruppen team-shirt passes me with twice my speed.
Then the road gets steeper.
A lot steeper. 
After the flattish 8-9 starting kilometres we begin the climb, 10 km, towards Vøringsfoss.
Still trying to hold back, to conserve energy and power, as we are still only 2 hours into a long, long race.
I find the right gear, pedal in a controlled way up the climb and overtake lots of cyclists.
It feels good to be on the bike.
Its cloudy and windy, but luckily the latter is coming from behind.
The numbness from the cold temperature towards the end of the swim dissapears quickly.

The climb is a tough one, but small dialogues with the other athletes make the kilometres fly by despite gradients close to 10%.
Say hi to Skagerrak SK-colleague Thomas Kvam and we both give and receive wishes of luck.
I pass a couple of riders, familiar from various blogs or other media, that I know have potential for very good results, including the defending women's champion Kristin Lie.
Spirit grow high...and it grows even higher when I hear cheering from the support-car.
We cycle through dark and steep tunnels, before several hairpin bends on the old road bring us to the one nice viewing point after the other. The Norwegian nature massages us with its beuty.
Wow.
Norseman is quite fun.

07.20 AM.
50 minutes out in the bike-leg.
VØRINGSFOSS.

My memory is taking me 2 days back, to Thursday, when we on our way from Oslo stopped here being tourists.

The road we biked on the other side of the valley...
and lots of altitude further down is the valley going out from Eidfjord.

  

The beutiful nature makes it easy to understand why thousands of foreign tourists are spending their summervacation here.
I receive a new bottle of water and a sandwich and start on the next 15 kilometres of climbing; less steep and more in a stairway pattern.

I continue to overtake fellow athletes and think that I must be around 70th position or something.
Still on the big ring, even though its crazy steep in some bends.

08.10 AM.
DYRANUT
Been cycling for 1 hour 35 min's and the summit is reached.

More than 1200 heightmetres since Eidfjord.
The feeling is good when I see the supportteam.

...and then it's a pretty good moment to present the other half of my supportteam.
STIAN has been my best friend ever since he in September 1997 tackled me in Materazzi-way out of the pitch on a junior football practice.

Stian and his stop-watch ready for coaching

Stian =>

Driver.
Responible for social media.
Chief of Coaching.
Way more respect for the planning-encyclopedia than Merethe, even spotted with pen, paper and notes during our drive in the course (opposite way) on Thursday.
The safe half of the supportteam, even though unnamed sources among our friends were sceptical of Stian's physical shape after a summer of barbecue and drinking wine with Lene.

The best supportteam there is

Dyranut and the planned stop nmbr 2.
"You're doing great, Marius" Stian says when I make a brief stop by the car,
"you're at 26th position".
I almost don't believe him, but it's really good news and far better than I ever dared to dream about.
It's an important stop, because the course is changing.
The climbs are over (for now), and 55 kilometres to Geilo is in front of us; easier terrain and higher speed.
Its foggy and 5 degrees.
Dark clouds create a black wall in front of us, just waiting to pour down cold rain.
Merethe and Stian have more clothes ready.
Gloves and the Gabba jacket.
"Go on" they scream like a teenage boyband, but instead of climbing back on the saddle, I more feel the need to release the body for a couple of litres of fjordwater.
I walk to some gras next to a small house, but all the layers of clothes make it impossible to get the vital parts in necessary position.
So another barrier is broken.
I feel really sorry for that man sitting in his kitchen, enjoying a hot cup of cappucino, while seeing in the window that clumsy triathlete peeing in his pants and having water the amount of Vøringsfossen streaming down his left leg.

The kilometres fly by now as we get closer to Geilo.
Still tailwind, but at Haugastøl the rain makes a cold visit.

Haugastøl-area on THURSDAY

This is more representative for SATURDAY weather

With the rain the temperature falls even further.
It gets really cold.
The rhetorical question of why I'm doing this on a voluntary basis is appearing for the first time.
I loose some positions and gain some, while at the same time focusing a lot on eating and drinking according to plan.
For every time I meet the supportteam, I love them even higher.

09.35 AM.
GEILO.

Halfway through the bikeleg.
It's now 6 hours since breakfast and 4,5 hours since the ferry-signal blew as a metaphoric starting-pistol.
Hands are cold.
Feet are freezing.
But spirit is high and I really look forward to the climbs right after Geilo, hoping that the extra intensity will bring body temperature up towards normal levels.
In the beginning of the Kikut-climb I get more nutrition from Merethe and Stian.
We are all really happy so far and Stian says I'm still around 26th, but with several athletes right in front of me.

The 3 hills are going well.
I pass 3-4 riders on the uphill, but they overtake me again when going downhill or when I stop for a change of gloves.
In Skurdalen Cecilie, Live and more is cheering and it's really motivating.
I'm now poitioned just alongside the leading women. 
Kari Lingsom has, as usual, performed greatly on the swim and has lead the whole race. However, Kristin Lie, the winner of NXTRI in 2015, is appraoching quickly from behind with speedy cycling.
I overtake Kari on our way to the Vasstulan summit and I cheer her to move on.
We have now swum 3,8 kilometres and biked 120 km's.

Yet another bottle.
I peed 6 times on the bike, so dehydration was definitely not a problem.

The body still feel pretty good, even though I feel really sore in the lower back and also some aching in the right thigh.
It's 6 hours since the ferry-jump in Eidfjord and this is unknown territory for me.
Only twice in my life I've been exercising for this long (in AXTRI 2014 and one time this summer biking for 9 hours from Oslo to summer vacation in the south of Norway.
http://trippeltherkelsen.blogspot.no/2014/08/axtri-2014-race-report.html

I throw myself down the long downhill towards Uvdal.
Or that's probably the wrong choice of words, because nobody is having a firmer grip on the brakes than I do.
In parts of the cource where other claimed to have reached 90 km/t, I'm super-happy if reaching 70.
Still, the kilometres towards T2 is fast reduced.

We had prepared 12 bottles of water
and 5 bottles with Sports drink.

Still, the supportteam was busy re-filling the bottles.
Nutrition was great during the whole race,
evidenced by only having 3 pizza-slices after the race compared to 10-15 on a normal day.

Downhill finished.
We turn 90 degrees to the right, over a small bridge and we're set to test the Iming mountain.
Stian and Merethe is cheering at the bottom of this dreaded climb that has caused very tired legs for numerous NXTRI-athletes though the years.
It's a wall.
A wall of 475 heigh metres, distributed over 6,5 km.

Stian and Merethe are saying that Alexander is just a couple of minutes in front of me.

Alexander,
Skagerrak SK-colleague,
icehockey referee on the elite level,
really strong and well-trained.
He has as always delivered a great swim, exiting the water in a top 10 position.

A couple of kilometres into the climb I see his supportteam for the first time.
Agnethe & co is cheering with high volume, motivating all athletes with their clown-wigs.
I can't help to think how motivating it is to see familiar faces.

Super cheering from Alexander's supportteam

I come up to Alexander midway through the Iming-climb.
We ride side by side for a couple of minutes, we share, we tell and we laugh.
We have more than 6 hours to go before we reach the top of Mount Gausta, but from here on we see each other quite often.

Imingfjell.
Marius with the reflective vest, and Alexander with black jacket behind.
Photo: Per-Eivind Syvertsen

I got some kilometres left of the hard climb.
It's steep.
For the first time I can really feel that I'm tired.
Lower back aching.
Thighs work hard to keep the pedals moving.
For the first time I have to gear down to the little ring.
I try to dance on the bike like Contador, but it probably looks like an elephant doing waltz for the first time.
The Iming-mountain is trying to break me, but it just almost succeeded.
I'm still alive.
The dream of Gaustatoppen is still alive.

11.30 AM.
I meet Merethe and Stian for one final support-stop at the summit.

140 km into the bike-leg.
New bottle.
Merethe pushes more nutrition into my throat - not any idea what it is. I just swallow.
We agree on taking it easy from here and into T2 as the very hard run-leg is still seperating me from the finishingline.

Over the plateu.
Another 200 heightmetres of uphill.
Luckliy the well known head wind never materializes.
I hear familiar voices. 
Erik and Roger.
Great.
A couple of kilometres more.
A car that looks familiar.
Dad and Kjersti is cheering and waving enthusiastically and I gave them a big smile in return.

Dad pays the support-team a visit

The final summit and I start on the bendy, steep and pot-holded downhill towards Tessungdalen and T2.
Only 30 km's of fast riding to go, but it feels like an eternity.

T2 transition area:

12.40 PM.
I brake to a full stop og hand the bike over to Merethe.
I stumble into the transition area in a clumsy way.
Lots of cheering.
Great atmosphere!
I spend what feels like forever to change clothes and shoes, instead eagerly waving to Emil and Tobias.
I can feel two or three tears in the corner of my eyes and mostly I want to run to them and give them the world's best hug.

Merethe takes control.
Wet bike-equipment coming off.
Running shoes, t-shirt and caps coming on.
I stumple over the gras area and onto the road.

The last stage.
Just a marathon left.

Emil and Tobias are spectators at T2.

The best crowd ever.
Mum, Magnus, Emil, Tobias and Astri.

RUN-LEG:

19th position into the transition.
21st going out.
The female leaders are changing fast and starts the run-leg right in front of me.
Kari first, then Kristin just a couple of metres behind.
Lots of things going through my mind.
If anybody, before the race, had said to me that I would be around the 20th position in T2, I would have laughed at them.
I was way ahead of expectations.
And now with run shoes on - my best dicipline - I was really optimistic.

Cheering from Torgeir, Inge og Kjell Richard.
Big smile in return.
On to the road.
Closing the gap to Kari and Kristin, then passing them.
I really start to dream about realizing the top-20 dream.
I feel great and want to show the world a fantastic run-split.
The great feeling lasts for about 1 minute and 33 seconds.
Bang!

Over the last couple of months, when people have asked about Norseman, I have explained that I'm excited to discover how the body reacts going into the 10th, 11th and 12th hour of racing.
Unknown territory by far.
After 1 min 33 sec running I get the answer.
Since Eidfjord my mind has been in a positive state for 99% of the time. Now however, at this exact moment, this turns dramatically.
In seconds, my state of mind changes from top-20 ambitions to instead wanting to rip that bib off and go sit in the support-car.
The legs feel like lumber.
The lower back is crying in pain for every step.
The imaginary devil on my left shoulder tempts me:
"Go sit in the car and the pain will go away.
Then you can relax."

I'm really, really tempted. 
What a jirk that devil is.

Luckily I have lots of angels that do whatever they can helping me moving forward.
Merethe and Stian stop every kilometer.
Nuts, chocolate, coke.
They force nutrition down my throath and emphasize to just focus on 1 km at a time.
I'm forever grateful.
We have pulled the emergency brake and the targeted 4.30 min/km pace is discarded once and for all.

The pain in the lower back disappears after 10k and I stabilize the pace at 5.00/km.
1 km at the time.
Other athletes pass me in a continous manner.
My focus on the resultlist is gone.
Being able to finish is instead my top priority.

Every time the devil on the left shoulder appears with negative feedback, saving angels help me out.
Elias, Astri and Magnus.
Bono, Ane and Mats.
Emil, Tobias and Mum.
Kjersti and Dad.
Erik and Roger.
Kjell Richard, Inge and Torgeir.
Kristin, Johan og Bjarte with their families and the nice poster (you guys are amazing).
Alexander's support-team
and everybody else.

Kristin and Johan and family.
Wow.
You actually drove all the way from Oslo
just to cheer me on. Thanks a million:)

Many thanks to all of you.
Without you I would have been sitting here writing the worst race report ever, describing that the first sign of tiredness was enough to ruin 9 months of Gaustatoppen-dreaming.

The supportteam is working hard.
They're motivating, cheering, encouraging.
We laugh together.
My fader in law, Boge, has met us in Austbygde and taken over as driver. I laugh highloudedly when Merethe tells me that all the nutrition that I don't want, Boge eats.
In less than a half hour he has emptied the supply of cinnamon buns.

1 km at the time.
After that one sign post at the time, 2 km for every post by the crew.
Then I focus on getting to 16 km, the cross road by Tinnsjøen that I drive everytime we're going to the family cabin.
Small goals driving me forward.
5.00 pace.
Fellow athletes are passing me all the time.
I've stopped counting positions.

Then 19 km, when the magical Gaustatoppen makes an initial introduction.
Still far to go: 23 km and 1400-1500 heightmetres.
Strangely enough I'm able to not let this push my state of mind even further down.

The finishingline is hidden behind
the fog far up at Gaustatoppen

The last 6 km to the bottom of Zoombie Hill and the pace falls even further.
Jogging has become slow jogging, but I manage to avoid the temptation of starting walking.
5.30 - 5.40 pace.

14.55 PM:
I turn left.
After what feels like an eternity, the first part of the run-leg is accomplised.
25 km.

17 km remains.
17 steep km.
I stop when I see Merethe, Stian, Boge, Kjersti and Dad at the starting point of the uphill.
I complain of dissiness and that I'm cold, most likely looking like a...yeah, like a Zoombie.
The supportteam react brilliantly...once again.
Merethe gathers lots of chocolate, water and coke and walks by my side at the first couple of kilometres of 10% gradient.
We're walking slowly and even more runners are passing me as the road is crooking its way up the hill.

Eventually Merethe manages to get me into a slow jogger. Even though it's slow, it's a lot faster than walking.
The supportcar stops as often as it can.
Dad and Kjersti as well.
Cheering and motivating.
Stian takes over for Merethe.
We walk a bit, jog a bitt, and then walk again, all the time identifying small goals instead of focusing how much is left until the finishline.
The spirit is growing better.
We're going to the top!
Still no focus on position, but, despite the zoome-like state of mind, I'm noticing that we are no longer passed by others at the same frequency.
Alexander is a bit further up the hill.
I reduce the distance when we jog, but it increases when I walk.

Stian and Marius close to 7 km up Zoombie Hill

32 km.
First check-point.
The first 160 athletes are sent towards the finish at Gaustatoppen, whereas the next 100 turn left for a circuit finish at Gaustablikk.

Stian brings our obligatory backpacks on the shuttlebus and head to 37 km.
Boge on the other hand takes the bike and then the train inside the mountain up to the summit.
Merethe is running with me furtheron.
Still steep, but she motivates me.
We eat some while we're walking, but at the same time she's pointing towards the next bend.
"At the next bend we start running again" she insists.
It's working and all of sudden it's actually we that passes other athletes.
We laugh, we smile and we enjoy the beutifal mountain landscape.

Photo: Bjørn Hytjanstorp

Tobias encourages us at 36 km

36 km.
Emil and Mum is cheering.
Then Tobias.
And all of sudden we reach 37 km.
Lots of familiar faces and voices, all smiling and cheering.
It feels like competing in the Olympics in Rio.
Lots of Skagerrak-people.
Elias, Astri and Magnus.
Kjersti and Dad.
It so nice to see them all and it refills the energy in the body.
The medical check is done and the doc gives me the ok to enter the tourist trail for the last 5 km after I enumerate all the abckpack contains: mobile, cash, warm clothes, food, drink.

Astri, Elias and Dad at the beginning of the trail

What I don't mention for the Doc, simply because I'm not aware that it's inside my backback until emptying it on Sunday evening, is the first-aid kit.
All support-persons were handed a first-aid kit by the organiseres in Eidfjord on Friday - to bring up the mountain in case of emergency.
Lots of conspiracy theories have been presented in the aftermath, but the most likely one is probably that Merethe put the kit in my backback instead of in her own, so that she would look really fit on the way up.
Stian has voted for that theory as the most likely one.

16.40 PM:
We take som photos before start on the final 5 kilometres.

I am in 32nd position.
The first km is less steep and the trail is less rocky than the rest.
We jog upwards, while tourists coming down is cheering for us.
It's motivating.
They all say that it's many athletes in close distance in front of us.
We must walk where the trail turns steeper and a lot more rockier.
Merethe first.
Me in the middle.
Stian at the back.
Bono, Ane and Mats cheers on furtheron.

I cannot stop smiling.
We're so close.
So close to the top.
Eidfjord feels like a million miles away.
Gaustatoppen however feels really, really close.

We pass some, but others come from behind.
I'm trying to count.
Midway up the rocky trail we manage to increase speed a bit further.
31st.
30th.
Merethe is walking fast and I'm barely able to stick to her back.
Cramps are identifying themselves.
29th.
We can see the top up there.
Not far.
Au - au -au.
Cramp.
No, just a little one.
Gone again.

Photo: Kai Otto Melau

Lots of cheering.
Suddenly the volume gets even bigger as my good friends Kristian, Stian and Henrik discover that we are close.
Cool.
They jog with us for the remaining part.
28th.

17.30 PM:
Last effort.
Cheering from Aunt Mette and Rune, giving fuel for the last couple of metres.
Stairs of rocks for the last 50 metres.
27th.
FINISH.
The top.
Gaustatoppen.
1883 metres above sea level.

I don't think there is a better place than this to say

Thank you so much, Merethe and Stian.

Without you I would probably still be sitting at the side of the road some 41 km's from the finishline and never be anything close to reach the finishingline.
In my opinion, you guys rocked the entire day and realized our ambition of being the happiest team on our way from Eidfjord to Gaustatoppen.
You are my heroes!

Link to full list of results:
https://nxtri.app.box.com/v/2016-Norseman-Results

From the local newspaper

EPILOGUE:

Congratulations to all athletes and especially their support teams.
Congrats to Lars Petter Stormo and Kari F. Lingsom that delivers performances unfathomable to me.
...and big congratulations to Beate, Thomas, Stian and Alexander, all from Grenland, and all with a well-deserved black t-shirt in their luggage returning home.

"I'm curious to find out how the body reacts after 10, 11 and 12 hours"
I got the answer.
The body is really tired,
but there are more power left.
It's just well hidden,
very well hidden, 
...and cheering and motivation from friends and family is just the right recipe to find exact that power.

Project Norseman 2016 became a test to see what is possible within the boundaries of my everyday life.
An everyday life in which Jacob, Emil, Tobias and Merethe have superior priority, and work is way too much fun for not being 100% focused.
Norseman hasn't even been close to compete with far more important thing as being a football coach, a ninja and a lego-builder-dad.

However, Norseman has easily won the battle against the snooze button, against sofa-time and against taking a heated car to work on a cold February-morning.
I have run intervals at 5 AM and been in aero-position on the bike at 21 PM.
Familytime and familityduties have been top ranked.
Despite this I don't feel that I during the last couple of months have been the best father I can be...
...bacause I have been tired and hence, less patient, less observant and less engaging than I should be.
I did not realize my dream of being top-20 in NXTRI 2016 (more below), but it's far more important that I in the future realize the goal of being the best possible dad that Marius can be.

The top-20 ambition was put in writing in November 2015, right after the lottery-God provided me with a slot for this amazing race.
The ambition was splitted up in smaller goals.

Conclusion =>

I ended up 20 minutes behind my timeschedule.
I was 10,5 minutes short of reaching the top-20 goal in what everybody claimed to be "by far the strongest startingfield ever"
I'm (almost) really happy.
Probably won't be back in 2017, but some day in the future I will once again be on that ferry, and that day I will have my revenge on the run-leg.

For Norwegian edition:
http://trippeltherkelsen.blogspot.no/2016/08/norseman-2016-race-report.html

Photo: Kyle Meyr