China's not over...

I can’t believe John and I made our plane out of Haikou this morning. I had way to many beers last night and it took everything I had to get up at 4 am to get ready. I was still feeling the effects of last night and hadn’t yet disassembled my bike and packed.

John was also in rough shape, but not from drinking, he didn’t have a drop. He was still feeling sick from the effects of heat stroke. He was in pain and just wanted to get home and told me his first stop is going to be Oakville Trafalgar hospital.

Somehow we managed to get to the airport. It wasn’t easy. I still can’t believe I was able to pack everything in my semi-drunk and hung-over state. Then we had to deal with the front desk and settle the bill for our incidentals. Checking out was not easy. It seemed everyone was arguing over problems with their bills and the front desk people speak limited English, which causes a lot of frustration, especially if you’re rushing to the airport.

Little did we know our checkout problems were going to be minor compared to our airport check-in problems. We arrived around 6 am and John’s flight was 8:10 am. By 7:30 am, we were not yet near the front of the line, let alone checked in.

Because John’s flight was leaving soon, they moved him to another line. I watched him from a distance, it was so disorganized and none of the airline counter people seemed to know what to do. I think John got his bags checked at 8 am and I’m not sure if he made his flight or not.

My line was moving at a snails pace. It was a joke. The counter-staff in my line was not charging extra to check in bikes and the line next to us was charging for bikes. In one case, they were trying to get $500 Euro’s from one guy to check in his bike. It was much more than his plane ticket. The guy was in line arguing with them for over an hour while the people behind him had to wait.

Another guy, who was there at 5 am, was told to go into one line, made it to the front, only to be told he was in the wrong line and he had to start at the back again. Then to add insult to injury, the Chinese travelers would try to cut in front of the line. It got to the point where all the other Ironman athletes were “blocking” and “pushing” them back. Then the locals would start yelling and flailing their arms all about. It was a Zoo.

I didn’t get my bags checked in until 8:15 am and my flight was at 8:30 and I still had to go through security. As I was walking down the jet way, I could see someone leisurely walking my bike box to the wrong plane. He eventually realized it was a mistake and without a care in the world, started walking towards my plane. If there were flowers on the runway, I’m sure he would have stopped to “smell the roses”.

Standing in line and sitting on the plane, I was still in rough shape, major sweating at times. I couldn’t believe I got on the plane in time and I didn’t know how I was going to keep it together and spend another 17 hours travelling. I was also concerned about John. He didn’t look good, we was hunched over and resting on his bags as he waited in line at the airport. He wasn’t feeling well from the moment he woke up.

I napped on the flight and arrived 2.5 hours later in Shanghai feeling marginally better. At that moment, I decided to change my departure time and spend a night in Shanghai. I figured I needed an afternoon nap and could do a little sightseeing.

In order to make the change, I had to set up office in the Shanghai airport. I used my bike box as a desk, with the computer out, hooked up to magic jack and my home phone, while talking to Air Canada and surfing the net. Local airport personal were standing beside me, looking at me like I was doing something wrong. I just stayed on the phone and ignored them and eventually they went away.

I had to call Air Canada twice; I didn’t like the answer I got from the first agent. He was so unhelpful, couldn’t find a flight and said if I did change it would be hundreds of dollars. I called again and got a female agent who got me on a direct, non-stop flight for only $75 more. Typical Air Canada service. As all this was going on, I was still worried about John. Did he make his plane? Is he physically okay?

I used hotels.com and booked a hotel in the City center, walking distance to all the tourist attractions. However, it wasn’t easy finding transportation, they have no taxi vans and had to take the entire back seat out of the car in order for them to transport my bike box. On the ride to the hotel I was exhausted and fought to keep my eyes open. I was also hungry.

When I got to the hotel, they didn’t have my reservation in the system and said they were totally booked. Simon taught me to be patient and persistent with Chinese people to get what you want. So I was. I wouldn’t take no for an answer and asked to see the manager. From what I can tell, when they hear the phrase “I want to see the manager” they miraculously find a way to solve the problem. I’m assuming if the manager has to deal with the problem, they have to spend some time on the “rack”.

They were able to find me a room and it felt good to get settled. I saw a card in the room for a massage in the hotel. I thought that would be a great idea; get something to eat, have a massage and then take a nap. I called down and the English was poor. I could barely understand them, other than “do you want it on the 6th floor club area or in-room?” and I took the room.

I went to get some lunch and by the time I got back the girl was in the hallway waiting for me. I didn’t see a massage table and she was in a dress with high heel boots on and baby oil in hand and had a lot of perfume on. She spoke no English and I was getting a little freaked. “Is this a sports massage or something else?” I pretended that I had a sore stomach and no longer wanted a massage and forced her to leave.

I then called the front desk and asked about the massage display card in my room. It was a picture of a woman getting a relaxing back massage. They told me the area is on the 6th floor. I really wanted a massage and thought I may have over reacted. Maybe in China it’s normal for masseuses to wear a dress.

I didn’t want anyone in my room so I went to the sixth floor. On the way, I ran into a women and her older mother in the elevator, they lived in the building and when I asked about the massage they said it was on the sixth floor in the room that also has the gym. It seemed legit and I may have over reacted. Wrong.

I asked for the massage and got the same girl. She took me into a room with three massage tables. I spent about 10 minutes trying to communicate with her. She spoke and understood no English. I showed her the areas I wanted massaged. She kept nodding like she knew. She gave me the price of $388 RB and I stripped to my underwear and jumped on the table. I also made sure my pants were close and my wallet was well wrapped and inaccessible.

The minute she started massaging I knew I was in trouble. She was the worst. I was on my front and she worked my back. The entire time I was uncomfortable and completely un-relaxed. I was continuously questioning whether this was legit or not. I wasn’t encouraged when she was “huffing” and “puffing” like I was making her work hard and she didn’t seem to have the stamina that’s normally required.

She eventually had me take off my shorts. No problem, that’s normal. Then when she turned me over, she put a small towel over my privates. Okay, not great, but still acceptable. Then she started working closer and closer to “wee willie wonka”, she didn’t touch it, but was too close for comfort. Eventually it ended and she started trying to negotiate with me for extra massage services.

Now I was “pissed off”. I got a shitty and most uncomfortable massage and I was “stupid” in thinking it was legit because it was in a nice hotel and had a hotel supported brochure in the room. All I wanted to do was get out of there. She wouldn’t let me, she kept writing number on a pad of paper and making gestures.

She was banking her two fists together and pointing to her pelvis area. I was laughing and crying at the same time. Get me the F@#K out of here! I was trying to be polite and as I was putting my clothes on, she was trying to stop me. Eventually I thought my head was going to explode, “I got to get out of here” and gave her $400 RB and bolted out the door.

What a naïve idiot I was. Years ago, I had a great massage in Hong Kong and thought this would be the same. Live and learn.

At least I now know, that the going rate to get “banged” by an ugly semi-overweight Chinese girl in Shanghai is $1200 RB’s. Just from trying to leave, I got her down from $1500. Realistically, I could probably get an ugly semi-overweight white girl in North America for less. I think I heard them laughing as I was speed walking down the hallway. It was the easiest $400 RB she ever made.

I got back to the room and locked the door. She was so persistent I wasn’t going to be surprised if she came knocking. There was no way I was answering that door. I was so tired; I didn’t even have the energy to shower. I just crawled into bed and slept for close to 5 hours.

When I woke up, I realized staying in Shanghai, was the best decision. I was so exhausted; I don’t know how I would have had the energy or mental strength to get home. I also didn’t want to come all the way to China and not see Shanghai. I’ve already felt bad that I had to cut my race short; I didn’t want to regret not seeing Shanghai.

Since the race, I’ve been feeling badly about having to drop out. I keep playing it over and over in my mind. “Could I have continued? I know in my heart of hearts that there was no chance to continue without causing major damage”. I got some piece of mind when I read Chris McCormick’s latest blog entry about his Ironman China race day.

Chris is one of the sports top professional triathletes and won Kona a few years ago. He started this year’s Ironman China and had to drop out as well. It turned out that 36 hours before the race, he also started having stomach problems. His room was just down the hall from ours. It sounds like we were both putting in toilet time, at the same time.

For the past two days, I’ve been questioning my ability and heart. “Did I lose my mojo?” Reading his blog entry about his race day was helpful in easing some of the negative mental thoughts. I felt better knowing that a highly trained race favourite had to withdrawal for the same reasons and felt the same way physically. His post about his race day experience is at the following address: http://chrismccormack.com/blog/downandoutinchinaofftosingaporenow

I still plan on articulating my post race lessons and emotions, maybe tomorrow. I’ve got the time during my long flight home. As a sidebar, I noticed many of the athletes that were travelling out today had Kona shirts. No one was wearing a Kona finishers’ shirts before the race. It just confirmed that the atmosphere was less jovial because many of the athletes were there on a mission; to qualify for Kona.

Recovery Day – No training.