Get your coffee first, your donut(s), muffins, power bar, and then get comfortable.
The particulars: 50 yr old male, marathoning at age 25, tris for the last 20 yrs (eight yr break in the ‘90s). 5’4”, 141 lbs, 14% body fat. First tri bike, ever, purchased this year with this race in mind, a Cervelo P3, 48 cm/ 650c raced with tubies Zipp 404 and a Renn 575 disc (first time with disc) 53/42 and 12/27. De Soto T1 wet suit. Peak training weeks 26-27 hours in base periods. Jersey Shore marathon in April (very flat) in 3:42. Eagleman hIM in 5:08 (very flat), Tupper Lake hIM in 5:09 (hilly), both in June. Race goals: (Repeat as a mantra for ten months before the race) (1) Survive (2) Finish (3) Finish happy (4) Training goal of 12:30 (5) Run the marathon (6) Get out on the run course by 7:30 so that I can see the leaders coming in (7)Theoretical predicted best finish time of 11:30 (ideal race effort and conditions).
Pre Race Week: Arrived the preceding Saturday at the Royal B&B hosted by Barb and Rick. My wife Karen arrived the Friday before the race. The Royal is located up on the West Bench, about a mile from the start. Terrific view of the Okanagan and Penticton. Absolutely a super B&B with breakfasts to die for. I shared the B&B with two other IM virgins Mike (Triathlon Mike) and Vera, and their respective spouses Judy and Mike (Big Mike), all Canadians and a lot of fun. We alternately hyped up each others fears and commiserated on our stupidity on an hourly basis, the really only way to go through your final week as a virgin in my opinion. We were later joined by Steve from Arizona, who with some IM experience under his belt, wisely kept a slight distance from us anxious fng’s. Of course, his wife and two little ones probably had more to do with the perceived distance. Didn’t I already mentioned how hyped and anxious us virgins were? Rain and lots of overcast the first five days didn’t help matters as well. For the record, Steve had us in awe. He did some training on rollers while at the B&B. That classifies one immediately in my book as immensely serious. The OCLV (sp?) all carbon Trek didn’t hurt either.
Toured the course by car, over rated Richters Pass and under rated Yellow Lake. (So, what else is new?) The shoulders on the descent after Yellow Lake/Twin lakes were too narrow and the highway speeds to fast to practice that downhill for my tastes, so I bagged Gordo’s advice to get comfortable on the descent and avoid using brakes. We did ride the McLean Creek descent a couple of times to avoid a goofy DQ per Gordo’s web site advice (Can you say wimp?).
Got in several swims in Okanagan Lake, swimming from the Sicamous. Nice clean water and just a great temperature for a wet suit. Monday morning at 6:30 – 7:00 am we got half way across the line of buoys before seeing anyone. By Friday morning, people were leaving the beach in groups of 5-20 at a time and swimming in all kinds of directions. I went down Friday morning at 7 am, to try and meet some Slowtwitchers with no luck. I never saw any pros down by the Sicamous, either. There was a group that was training with their own buoys on the other side of the Sicamous, but they turned out to be a local coached group.
Penticton and surrounding area: Penticton is a great little town, very friendly. The surrounding countryside is gorgeous. I’d have to say, one of the best race venues I have ever seen. Salty’s definitely got our vote for the best food and the place to eat. The Hogs Breath is a great place to hang and meet people, but it was hard for us type A’s to wait in line. One solution was to head south up Main St. to a Pita shop for a great sandwich and a drink and bring it back to the Hogs Breath if you were joining people late. I also have to mention the Pizza Hut. Great pizza, went back a couple of times.
I avoided Tom Demerly’s pitfall with the batting cage, but did manage to hit half a bucket of golf balls at Doc’s driving range on Friday morning. It took all week to get there, but it was fun and the first real golf balls I have hit in several years. Better yet, no muscle aches the next day.
Watching the progression of the race venue going up and the streets being shut down during the week for my race was just amazing. Really a fun way to get hyped for a race.
Registration and Pre Race meeting: Surprisingly easy to go through registration (Thursday afternoon), short lines, outside the registration tent, quite a snake dance inside the tent. My weight was right on 141 lbs so that my last easy week wasn’t adding any pounds, very happy to see. We got Lisa Bently’s autograph for our daughters. She is the real deal, very friendly, asked questions about my daughter’s activities before she wrote something on her picture card. About an inch taller than me, how she rips on that course I have even less of an idea now. Of course, she was out at the finish line around 10 -11 pm Sunday evening, partying as usual. Absolutely amazing, but I am getting ahead of myself.
The only negative of the pre race meeting was that it was in an area that was far too small for 2300 athletes to sit, a lot of people stood for the hour or so (not me :-) ). The best thing about the meeting was that Roch Frey and Paul Huddle had prepared a video, apparently, literally the day before, about the key info: transition area, remote swim start, course changes from previous years, and key rules. Roch played straight man and Paul played the classic self-centered, inattentive, confused triathlete, that we all know (and admit it – take turns being on a regular occasion). I have heard about their Lake Placid film about wearing speedo type racing suits about town. Now, I definitely want to see that video. I have no idea if these two do this at every IM event, but I will not miss another IM pre race meeting until I know differently.
Bike check in and bags are straight forward, even with the increasing blood pressure in your head. It is amazing how fast things accelerate the last 24 hours. I think it is just like learning to land an airplane (or a sailplane in my case). The first few landings happen really fast with little time to make adjustments. When you are really experienced and proficient (not necessarily the same thing), it seems like you have all day to line up and make adjustments.
One last word, the Bike Barn people were tremendous all week. Never saw one ruffled feather, had loads of staff on the floor and in the shop, and they had an answer for everything. I am not sure why this is, but the minute you walk in the door and see the floor, you know you are in the right place. I imagine Bike Sport Michigan is the same way.
Race Day (FINALLY!): I thought that since so much was taken care of on Saturday that a 5:15 departure as suggested by the others would be adequate, rather than my gut feel of 5:00. I was wrong. Go a little early, especially if this is your first IMNA event. Numbering was quick, special needs drop off was quick. Managing through throngs of hyped athletes is slow! I had trouble getting the presta adapter off the Zipp extender valve. Bike Barn people to the rescue.
Porta potties were in short supply. I have the undesireable, I suppose, pre-race ritual of four visits to the porta potty before a triathlon. Sorta started in high school track. Fortunately, just being in the transition area Saturday afternoon amongst all those racked bikes triggered trip number 1 as I christened a toilet with no waiting line no less. With the close proximity of the B&B, I made two trips before even leaving home Sunday morning, ah sweet, again no lines :-). Finally, a wise man on the IMC staff had set up a urinal trough in the transition area, and trip number 4 was a piece of cake. Ah, good times and a good start to the day.
Still, I was slower in getting out of the transition area than I had intended. We were supposed to walk down to the remote swim start by 6:30, and it was 6:33 when I started down on Lakeshore. We were held up almost immediately. Apparently, someone thought it would make a great athletes parade to walk down en mass. Buried in the pack and being 5’4”, I had no idea what was going on. I found out later it was a voluntary thing to walk down en mass. Bottom line: Bad Idea. Getting over a thousand athletes through that narrow little timing chip entrance doesn’t happen quickly. I was lucky enough to get through by 6:45 and get a few strokes in. When I came out of the water, people were still mooing through the gate a la cattle drive with some announcer telling them that they didn’t have time to do a swim warm up. Get thee to the swim start early or at least on time. It sometimes pays to ignore instructions.
The Swim – Rookie Mistake #1: Have you heard the story about the religious man in the flood? Heavy rain was falling, and the river was rising. The man was standing in his yard in six inches of water as the sheriff drove by in his pick up truck. The sheriff warned the man about the coming flood and offered to drive the man to safety. The man declined stating that he had faith in God and that God would save him. A while later, as the flood waters lapped over the porch, another man came by in a small boat and offered to take the religious man to safety. But again, he declined saying that he had faith in God and that God would save him. Finally, the flood really hit and the house was swept off its foundation. The man was clinging to the roof as the house floated away. A helicopter flew overhead and the pilot spoke over the loud speaker that he would drop a rope and fly the man to safety. But again, the religious man waved him off believing that God would save him. Eventually the house was destroyed in the flood and the man drowned. After passing through St. Peters’ gate, the man came face to face with God, and he asked God, “I had faith in you, why didn’t you save me?” And God replied, “I sent you a truck, a boat and a helicopter! What more do you want?”
Well there I was, five minutes before the start of the race, standing dead center in the middle (left to right) of the start, almost directly behind the pros (unintentionally). I figured most people would line up to the right, close to the straight line distance and the buoys, while the smart ones would line up left which would actually be a shorter distance as the swim angles to the left from the beach. That should leave the center deserted for the start. Well, a young woman wades out right next to me, and we say our good mornings and a pleasantry or two. She then remarks, in a startled manner, that she is right in the center and that this is a bad place to be as everyone converges to the center. She promptly moves off to the left side of the start. I fail to process anything. Sorry, God.
I place myself about the fifth row back as this seems suitable to my expected time compared to the people around me. Then the gun goes off. Fifty yards of good swimming and then everything goes to Hell. People are converging in front of me from both sides at 45 degree angles from the true direction. It is such a severe convergence that I don’t get kicked because their feet are two feet away from me as their shoulders meet. However, I end up bouncing my arms off their backs. Moving 300 plus pounds of swimmers aside is impossible so I have to pull up. The masses behind me could not care less that there is no where to go. They want to swim over me. This cycle repeats about five or six times in the next 150 yards. For the first time ever in a swim, I realize panic is only a couple of more mouthfuls of water away. Later, my HRM indicated that I easily exceeded 160 beats at this time, and it wasn’t from swimming. Fortunately, patches of water start opening up and I started swimming from patch to patch. By about 700 yards, the mayhem was down to a typical wave start. Still, at 800 yards, somebody’s foot dislodged my goggles just to make it an official IM swim. Two hundred yards later, some bozo makes a really rude move and cuts me off. By now, I am a little pissed (the panic blanket having been neatly folded and put away), so I got on his feet and made a point of hitting his toes ten times in the next twenty strokes. Satisfied, I then drafted off him for several hundred yards.
The back straight away is over a mile long, but by then I had had enough of pack swimming, so I mostly stayed out to the left. It seemed like a freeway to my right with the fast lane moving steadily by. The advantage was that they were all sighting, so I pretty much just relaxed, kept my eye on them underwater, and swam. I tried to draft occasionally, but either everyone was just too fast or they wanted to go visit the guys in the kayaks out to the left. I was happy in my own little race. The second turn came after a little longer than it should have according to my head clock, but I was quite happy knowing I only had 600 meters left and that I felt pretty good and not much worse for wear. About 300 yards out, I started breathing every fourth stroke and was amazed how comfortable it felt. I was pretty sure I had kept any irrational exuberance in check for the swim.
I finally hit shallow water and did a couple of dolphin dives (it takes me a lot longer to get to where I can actually stand up and walk). Finally, I could stand and my right calf immediately cramped up into a ball. I occasionally get those three in the morning calf cramps that take a couple of days to walk off. Having one at the swim finish was an electrifying experience. It flashes in your head that your race could be done before it starts. Ten and a half months of training, 4000 miles on the bike, 250,000 yards in the pool. Doing everything right with no injuries, and you could be done just trying to stand up in the water. Not finishing, when the other virgins in the B&B are expecting you to do the best of the group. Definitely a sinking feeling in the gut.
I grabbed my foot and pulled up on my toes to keep the cramp from “locking in”. About 20 or 30 seconds of hopping on one foot, and pulling the toes back on the other (I have no idea what it looked like to the spectators) and I stopped the cramp from progressing. The calf was way sore, so I ended up hobbling through the transition zone. At this moment, I can’t run well, but if I can bike, then I have some time to work the cramp out before the marathon.
Swim result: 1:02:20, average HR: around 148 (after the start), Swim place: 295, T1: 3:24
The Bike: The game plan was to go easy on the bike and let the HR be the governor. Ideally, keep the HR at or under 130, except for the climbs. The cramp made that a much easier plan to follow. No real pain or discomfort pedaling on the flats, some concern on the McLean Creek road climb which made Richter and Yellow Lake a concern. Having a good swim followed by a mediocre bike means that everyone and their brother (maybe even their mother) passes you on the bike. The good news was I knew this going in. The first person I passed was on the McLean Creek road, a young lady. I mentioned it to her and she told me she woke up with a 101 fever that morning and was just trying to take it easy. I told her that everyone would come back to us after mile 80. At least that’s what I have heard. One of the hordes going by me at about mile 30 claimed she had never seen it that crowded that far into the bike before. I believed her. I am pretty sure that about 600 people passed me by in the first 45 miles of the bike. Steve from the B&B passed me at mile 40, the only friendly face I saw on the whole bike. Then came Richter.
First off, I had to pee for the last 15 miles. And, truth be told, I could use a sit down as well. I haven’t got the foggiest notion yet as to how to work that low residue business and still have enough in the gut to get started on the day. On the other hand, I had the brilliant clarity of mind to recognize that over the last few years, I pee rather slowly standing up during marathons (don’t ask me why), and I can take care of the other business faster than I can voiding urine when standing. So, I had a nice one minute sit down right before the uphill of Richter pass. Feeling much more comfortable and knowing that hydration was going good, I was quite pleased to start Richter. I spun all the way to the top, and to my amazement, passed between ten and twenty people. There were a ton of spectators up near the top of both peaks and they were very motivating. One group was doing the wave as riders passed. I tried the wave in response, which they loved, but I would not recommend it on a tri geometry frame. I came pretty close to losing it in fact.
The rollers after Richter weren’t all that bad I thought. I tended to pass people on the downhills (didn’t get much pass 40 mph in this section), and again I would pass a few people at the steeper, top sections of the roller climbs. Sucking down Accelerade as much as possible, and working Endurolytes and Enervit salt tablets to ease the cramp along with an occasional squeeze of the calf. Richter was behind me and I was still in the race and feeling good.
A really good day for racing so far. A bit of overcast remained during the first half of the bike, and no real significant headwinds after Richter. I estimated my 56 mile time at around 3:03, so no sub 6:00 bike time, and no Kona slot at that rate, which kind of took some pressure off. Everyone was just flat out blowing into Keremeos after the rollers, generally about 20-21 mph. I think there was a bit of a detour here as we never actually entered Keremeos proper. One short little uphill, and a turn onto the out and back road. Some tough and speedy looking people were going by the other direction but I think the leaders had already gone by. The special needs bags were a welcome sight. 37 miles to go. I was beginning to forget all about my cramped calf.
Getting back on route 3A after Keremeos begins the final siege of Yellow Lake. The first three miles are relatively easily, and once you get to Twin Lakes, it is essentially downhill to the finish, so really the bike is kind of over after 97 miles or so. But, boy, that last climb right before Yellow Lake really makes you work. Plus, it was getting warm. You really want to have something in the tank and in the legs for it. Again, I stayed seated and just spun. The heart rate was topping out around 159 and I was in the 27. But, again, I was passing a fair number of people. It had finally started to thin out, so not as many people. Also again, the crowds were tremendous, definitely a boost. And then, Yellow Lake, what a lovely section of flat road.
I did feather the brakes a bit on the initial descent. I topped out at 45.4 mph. Time for a bit of stretching along Skaha and down Main Street, and soak in the realization that I was two-thirds through an Ironman and that I was feeling relatively happy. I recaptured about 150 riders since the beginning of Richter and I felt like I was starting to hold my own. Ok, not really holding my own but at least I thought I had stopped the bleeding. The big test was coming up though. What was my leg going to do when I started to run?
Bike result: 6:03:34, Pace, 18.48 mph, Average HR: 131, Bike place: 838, Overall Place after bike:675, T2: 6:10 Accumulated Time: 7:15:28 Plenty of time to see the race leaders out on course!
The Run –Rookie Mistake #2 After that long bike, you return to town with all these people cheering you on. Main St. was packed! Volunteers are Johnny on the spot to collect your bike. Euphoria runs rampant. I was so focused on getting my HRM watch unstrapped from the bike before the bike disappeared that I forgot about my calf. I then trotted off to get my run bag, made another pit stop, and moved onto the change tent. I felt great. My back had no complaints, my legs had no complaints, my stomach was a little full which is sort of normal for me. So I changed shorts, grabbed my nutrition and hat and took off. I trotted right on out of the transition zone and realized that my leg felt fine! Halleluiah! All I had to do now was run 26.2 miles. That was easy compared to limping/walking the whole way. My worse case scenario running in my head on the bike was that I had plenty of time to walk the marathon for probably a 15 hour finish. But, now, I could run! I saw my wife on Lakeshore just after Main St., and again on the way back to Main St. along with Judy and Big Mike (the other B&B spouses).
The only problem was I was a little too jazzed. My ending HR for the bike was 117. My average HR for T2 was 118, but I left T2 with a 167 heart rate!?. By a quarter mile into the run, I was at 155. I passed the first mile mark in 7:15. For the record, a good marathon pace for me is 8:00 per mile. A great hIM run pace is 7:30 -7:45 per mile. A 7:15 pace is clearly suicide. I looked at my watch and didn’t believe it. The race staff probably misplaced the marker. A misplaced mile marker in an IMNA event? Don’t look now, but the guy in the boat just passed by. After the race, I found out I averaged 155 beats for the first mile.
Even with a brief walk through the first aid station, my second mile was 7:46. As great as I felt, I knew the pace had to slow down, however, I only had the one gear. I have never experienced this before. From the second aid station on, I started alternating walking the full length and taking sponges and water. I didn’t start my Hammer gel until the five mile station, a lesson learned in hIMs that I needed to let my stomach clear a bit from the bike nutrition, as I can carry more on the bike than when running.
Despite my efforts to slow down, I still went through the five mile mark in 40:05. I still felt great, but it was getting hot as the clouds had really cleared out. Tom Evans passed the opposite way just after I went past the five mile mark. He looked like he was just floating along. Gordo went by in another minute or so, with the determined man on a mission look. I was looking forward to doing the flat section of the run course along the lake starting out around mile seven or eight. When I got there, Lisa Bently went trucking by, very focused. She had a sizable lead over second. The other pros I would have recognized, Stefan Holzner and Mary Uhl had dropped out early. Jasper Blake went by but I didn’t recognize him. My bad.
By mile ten, my pace, with walking the aid stations, had dropped to nine minutes. However, the writing was clearly evident on the wall. It was getting awfully warm after the wet overcast week, and the heart rate was still up in the high 150's. I started thinking in my head that with Kona only seven weeks away, I didn’t want to qualify with the way I was currently feeling. I was actually telling myself to slow down so that I wouldn’t! Funny to read Gordo express the same concern about Kona after he finished the race. The biggest hill on the run occurs at about mile 10 ½, right after the McLean Creek road turn off. I had practiced this section earlier. I knew what was coming. I ran the first half, and when the effort got too sizable, I power walked to the top per the advice of a friend who did IMLP earlier this year. Still, that effort popped my cork, and I did my first non-programmed walk during mile eleven. After that, it was downhill into the turn around, and the run special needs, and a little short lived psychological boost. About 2:02 for the first half of the marathon.
To poorly quote Mr. Demerly “The Ironman is not about a 2.4 mile swim, a 112 mile bike and a 26.2 mile run. It is about running a half marathon after you are totally destroyed.” I had this running through my head all through the first half of the run. Now, my moment of truth had come. Those early fast miles were making themselves felt in my legs. My HR was steadily creeping up in the low 160s. I picked myself up into a run after the turn around, but it was a little balky. I lasted about a quarter mile. The one big hill at mile 10.5 is replaced by a series of little climbs from the other direction. No brainers during the previous week workouts, they were much more difficult on race day.
I hit my first real low of the day, but alas I didn’t recognize it. I slipped into marathon mentality and thought “walking at mile 14 means for a very long day to finish the last 12 miles.” I recorded 11:23 for the 14th mile. I also hit 169 on the HRM. This was approaching significant anaerobic country. I made, what in retrospect was my smartest decision of the day, the decision to walk every time my HR hit 160 until it dropped to 140. I stopped recording the mile intervals as this had little value with times approaching 12 minutes. Steve went by me again at mile 17, how in the world…?! Later on he told me I blew by him earlier in the run and that he knew he would see me again later. At mile 19, I decided to try the Coke solution (Pepsi in this case) for the first time ever in a race. The first one went down very nice. I added it to the list at all the remaining aid stations. By mile 20, I was feeling better. I started recording mile times again. Not surprisingly, from mile 14 through mile 20, my HR averaged 140, so pulling back had an obvious effect. I probably had 30-40 runners go by me in that time, so it appeared to me that I was well back in the pack.
The remaining miles I continued to drop my pace back down, 11:10 for mile 21, 10:57 for mile 22, 10:49 for mile 23. The average HR for these miles ranged from 142 to 138, ideally where I should have been all along. I stopped the Hammer gel after the 22 mile aid station simply because it wouldn’t have time to digest by the time I finished. Otherwise, I had no problem continuing to eat. The Pepsi had lost its snap, but I continued drinking it. Another 50-54 yr old passed me on Main St., about a block from the Hogs Breath, and I let him go, next year I don’t think that will happen. Ten to twenty people passed me in the last five to six miles, but for the most part we were playing leap frog. I reserved walking to the aid stations and at the mile markers. Others had a different pattern, and it resulted in a lot of back and forth. I didn’t want to walk in the downtown and Lakeshore areas as the crowds were immense and people want to help you keep going. Thankfully, the aid stations were located strategically well for me. I had one last mid station walk around the 24 mile mark. From there I was able to pick it up and finish the last 1.2 miles at a 9:31 pace.
I was able to pick out my wife in the stands near the finish, I swear it is one of the few times ever I have been able to do so. Way cool. The minute I crossed the finish line, I felt great. I mean really, really great. I felt like I could go another couple of miles. It was daylight, it was over and I felt really, really great.
I didn’t go hard enough. ;-)
Run results: 4:24:12, Pace: 10:05/mile, Run place: 544, Overall Place after run:533/2056 Finish Time: 11:39:40 Age group result: 18/123
Post Race: First off, let me thank Tom, the volunteer who took me by the elbow and escorted me through the finish area. He picked up the finishing gear, signed me up for a massage, showed me wear I could rinse off, and just generally clung to me until it was abundantly clear I was okay. I understand that this is standard fare at IMNA events, but it was really nice to have someone doing the thinking for you after a long day on your own. The hundreds (thousand?) other volunteers did a great job as well.
Next, did I mentioned I felt great? I used a hose in the transition area to rinse off, cold water but it felt great. Put on some dry duds from my dry bag and got in the massage line. I was having a nice chat with Diona, the masseuse, when an angel walked by handing out pepperoni pizza. Fabulous. I couldn’t lie down on the table, I was a little buzzed. I did have a blister on the ball of my right foot with about an ounce and a half of fluid, the result of new shoes, soaked feet from the sponges, and a much to quick a stop at 23 miles when I dropped two of my Enervit salt tabs.
Post mortem: The cramp was probably a blessing in disguise, it really kept me conservative on the bike. I think I evenly split the first and second half of the bike course. I could have gone faster, but I might have paid more of a price on the run.
Notes
1. Interacting with spectators is definitely an energy boosting activity. I tried to say something to as many people as possible while on the bike, and I really think it helped my energy. I was redlined early in the run and just trying to hold it together later to say anything during the run. Usually it was just a thumbs up when someone mentioned my name. Next time, though, I think I will definitely try to be more interactive on the run as well.
2. I was out of focus, for me at least, from Saturday afternoon until right after the race. In part, I think, due to the size, energy and the focus of the entire town on this one race. Well, okay, the 2.4, 112, and 26.2 business was coming to a point in my head as well. I completely missed my pre-race ritual of stretching, which may or may not help me physically, but it does allow me to get centered and focus on the day. The omission may have also contributed to the calf cramp, I don’t know. The lesson is to stick to your routines as best you can regardless of the race you are doing. Next time it should be easier.
3. I have gotten faster in the water as the summer has progressed, even though my yardage has dropped. I think it has to do with simply relaxing more. Last winter, I picked up TI (please no flames) to improve body position. I think it really helped. After my 1000yd TT times dropped from over 17 minutes to under 16, I focused more on stroke. This winter I will work on TI and body position again, more interval work for short courses, but less yardage overall, and try for 60 minutes at IMLP based on being more efficient.
4. I have no idea where to start the swim at IMLP. IMC with its wide course start was unnerving. LP already has me concerned. These 2,000 plus starts are really too much and I think IMNA is really rolling the dice on this. I really think it is only a matter of time. What can anybody do if someone goes under in the first 200-400 yards? No way can any one observing see a person in distress or if they did, would not likely be able to get to that person with hundreds of people flailing away right around the person in distress.
5. I can go harder on the bike based on how well I felt when I got off the bike at IMC. I did only one group ride all year this year, and it was remarkable how much harder I pushed, especially since it was a Wed night ride practicing a sprint course for the coming Saturday. But, I did feel stronger that next race. Next year, I will do a weekly ride with this group to build up some speed. I think I can get to a 5:45 bike split with this additional effort.
6. A smarter marathon would have easily saved me 10 minutes on the run time. Better focus and a little experience will easily cure the strategy. How to get to 3:59? That is the real question.
7. Favorite long workouts: Double bricks – 1 hr 40 min on trainer, followed by 6.2 mi run, 1 hr 40 min on trainer followed by 4.8 mile run. Next year, triple bricks to get to about 75-78 miles on trainer and 15 miles running (from Gordo’s web site and this forum I believe). Great late winter early spring work out for moderately inclement weather. (Note:Need more DVDs for trainer!) Longest bike this year was 136 miles, four weeks before IMC.
8. I did mostly Accelerade on the bike with some Hammer Gel, and then Hammer gel on the run and eventually Pepsi. I was aiming for 300 cal/hr, but actually only took in about 250/hr, but it was plenty, and I didn’t get to the point of not being able to eat. I think the caloric intake range is wider than most people realize. Dial it in for yourself. I learned a lot in the two hIMs I did this year. Being happy to eat right after the finish was a pleasant surprise. That Pizza Hut does great work.
9. Knock off about 40 minutes from this year’s effort, and I think I have a shot at Kona next year through IMLP. The long term plan is to return to IMC in 2006. If I manage Kona next year, I think that would satisfy my IMNA hunger. The races are expensive from application to race venue to home. Hell, sprints are even expensive. Time to be a smarter consumer after 2006 as the marketing powers have really turned up the heat to boil the fat out of our wallets.
Stay tuned ;-)
Behold the turtle! He makes progess only when he sticks his neck out. (James Bryant Conant)
GET OFF THE F*%KING WALL!!!!!!! (Doug Stern)
Brevity is the soul of wit. (William Shakespeare)
The particulars: 50 yr old male, marathoning at age 25, tris for the last 20 yrs (eight yr break in the ‘90s). 5’4”, 141 lbs, 14% body fat. First tri bike, ever, purchased this year with this race in mind, a Cervelo P3, 48 cm/ 650c raced with tubies Zipp 404 and a Renn 575 disc (first time with disc) 53/42 and 12/27. De Soto T1 wet suit. Peak training weeks 26-27 hours in base periods. Jersey Shore marathon in April (very flat) in 3:42. Eagleman hIM in 5:08 (very flat), Tupper Lake hIM in 5:09 (hilly), both in June. Race goals: (Repeat as a mantra for ten months before the race) (1) Survive (2) Finish (3) Finish happy (4) Training goal of 12:30 (5) Run the marathon (6) Get out on the run course by 7:30 so that I can see the leaders coming in (7)Theoretical predicted best finish time of 11:30 (ideal race effort and conditions).
Pre Race Week: Arrived the preceding Saturday at the Royal B&B hosted by Barb and Rick. My wife Karen arrived the Friday before the race. The Royal is located up on the West Bench, about a mile from the start. Terrific view of the Okanagan and Penticton. Absolutely a super B&B with breakfasts to die for. I shared the B&B with two other IM virgins Mike (Triathlon Mike) and Vera, and their respective spouses Judy and Mike (Big Mike), all Canadians and a lot of fun. We alternately hyped up each others fears and commiserated on our stupidity on an hourly basis, the really only way to go through your final week as a virgin in my opinion. We were later joined by Steve from Arizona, who with some IM experience under his belt, wisely kept a slight distance from us anxious fng’s. Of course, his wife and two little ones probably had more to do with the perceived distance. Didn’t I already mentioned how hyped and anxious us virgins were? Rain and lots of overcast the first five days didn’t help matters as well. For the record, Steve had us in awe. He did some training on rollers while at the B&B. That classifies one immediately in my book as immensely serious. The OCLV (sp?) all carbon Trek didn’t hurt either.
Toured the course by car, over rated Richters Pass and under rated Yellow Lake. (So, what else is new?) The shoulders on the descent after Yellow Lake/Twin lakes were too narrow and the highway speeds to fast to practice that downhill for my tastes, so I bagged Gordo’s advice to get comfortable on the descent and avoid using brakes. We did ride the McLean Creek descent a couple of times to avoid a goofy DQ per Gordo’s web site advice (Can you say wimp?).
Got in several swims in Okanagan Lake, swimming from the Sicamous. Nice clean water and just a great temperature for a wet suit. Monday morning at 6:30 – 7:00 am we got half way across the line of buoys before seeing anyone. By Friday morning, people were leaving the beach in groups of 5-20 at a time and swimming in all kinds of directions. I went down Friday morning at 7 am, to try and meet some Slowtwitchers with no luck. I never saw any pros down by the Sicamous, either. There was a group that was training with their own buoys on the other side of the Sicamous, but they turned out to be a local coached group.
Penticton and surrounding area: Penticton is a great little town, very friendly. The surrounding countryside is gorgeous. I’d have to say, one of the best race venues I have ever seen. Salty’s definitely got our vote for the best food and the place to eat. The Hogs Breath is a great place to hang and meet people, but it was hard for us type A’s to wait in line. One solution was to head south up Main St. to a Pita shop for a great sandwich and a drink and bring it back to the Hogs Breath if you were joining people late. I also have to mention the Pizza Hut. Great pizza, went back a couple of times.
I avoided Tom Demerly’s pitfall with the batting cage, but did manage to hit half a bucket of golf balls at Doc’s driving range on Friday morning. It took all week to get there, but it was fun and the first real golf balls I have hit in several years. Better yet, no muscle aches the next day.
Watching the progression of the race venue going up and the streets being shut down during the week for my race was just amazing. Really a fun way to get hyped for a race.
Registration and Pre Race meeting: Surprisingly easy to go through registration (Thursday afternoon), short lines, outside the registration tent, quite a snake dance inside the tent. My weight was right on 141 lbs so that my last easy week wasn’t adding any pounds, very happy to see. We got Lisa Bently’s autograph for our daughters. She is the real deal, very friendly, asked questions about my daughter’s activities before she wrote something on her picture card. About an inch taller than me, how she rips on that course I have even less of an idea now. Of course, she was out at the finish line around 10 -11 pm Sunday evening, partying as usual. Absolutely amazing, but I am getting ahead of myself.
The only negative of the pre race meeting was that it was in an area that was far too small for 2300 athletes to sit, a lot of people stood for the hour or so (not me :-) ). The best thing about the meeting was that Roch Frey and Paul Huddle had prepared a video, apparently, literally the day before, about the key info: transition area, remote swim start, course changes from previous years, and key rules. Roch played straight man and Paul played the classic self-centered, inattentive, confused triathlete, that we all know (and admit it – take turns being on a regular occasion). I have heard about their Lake Placid film about wearing speedo type racing suits about town. Now, I definitely want to see that video. I have no idea if these two do this at every IM event, but I will not miss another IM pre race meeting until I know differently.
Bike check in and bags are straight forward, even with the increasing blood pressure in your head. It is amazing how fast things accelerate the last 24 hours. I think it is just like learning to land an airplane (or a sailplane in my case). The first few landings happen really fast with little time to make adjustments. When you are really experienced and proficient (not necessarily the same thing), it seems like you have all day to line up and make adjustments.
One last word, the Bike Barn people were tremendous all week. Never saw one ruffled feather, had loads of staff on the floor and in the shop, and they had an answer for everything. I am not sure why this is, but the minute you walk in the door and see the floor, you know you are in the right place. I imagine Bike Sport Michigan is the same way.
Race Day (FINALLY!): I thought that since so much was taken care of on Saturday that a 5:15 departure as suggested by the others would be adequate, rather than my gut feel of 5:00. I was wrong. Go a little early, especially if this is your first IMNA event. Numbering was quick, special needs drop off was quick. Managing through throngs of hyped athletes is slow! I had trouble getting the presta adapter off the Zipp extender valve. Bike Barn people to the rescue.
Porta potties were in short supply. I have the undesireable, I suppose, pre-race ritual of four visits to the porta potty before a triathlon. Sorta started in high school track. Fortunately, just being in the transition area Saturday afternoon amongst all those racked bikes triggered trip number 1 as I christened a toilet with no waiting line no less. With the close proximity of the B&B, I made two trips before even leaving home Sunday morning, ah sweet, again no lines :-). Finally, a wise man on the IMC staff had set up a urinal trough in the transition area, and trip number 4 was a piece of cake. Ah, good times and a good start to the day.
Still, I was slower in getting out of the transition area than I had intended. We were supposed to walk down to the remote swim start by 6:30, and it was 6:33 when I started down on Lakeshore. We were held up almost immediately. Apparently, someone thought it would make a great athletes parade to walk down en mass. Buried in the pack and being 5’4”, I had no idea what was going on. I found out later it was a voluntary thing to walk down en mass. Bottom line: Bad Idea. Getting over a thousand athletes through that narrow little timing chip entrance doesn’t happen quickly. I was lucky enough to get through by 6:45 and get a few strokes in. When I came out of the water, people were still mooing through the gate a la cattle drive with some announcer telling them that they didn’t have time to do a swim warm up. Get thee to the swim start early or at least on time. It sometimes pays to ignore instructions.
The Swim – Rookie Mistake #1: Have you heard the story about the religious man in the flood? Heavy rain was falling, and the river was rising. The man was standing in his yard in six inches of water as the sheriff drove by in his pick up truck. The sheriff warned the man about the coming flood and offered to drive the man to safety. The man declined stating that he had faith in God and that God would save him. A while later, as the flood waters lapped over the porch, another man came by in a small boat and offered to take the religious man to safety. But again, he declined saying that he had faith in God and that God would save him. Finally, the flood really hit and the house was swept off its foundation. The man was clinging to the roof as the house floated away. A helicopter flew overhead and the pilot spoke over the loud speaker that he would drop a rope and fly the man to safety. But again, the religious man waved him off believing that God would save him. Eventually the house was destroyed in the flood and the man drowned. After passing through St. Peters’ gate, the man came face to face with God, and he asked God, “I had faith in you, why didn’t you save me?” And God replied, “I sent you a truck, a boat and a helicopter! What more do you want?”
Well there I was, five minutes before the start of the race, standing dead center in the middle (left to right) of the start, almost directly behind the pros (unintentionally). I figured most people would line up to the right, close to the straight line distance and the buoys, while the smart ones would line up left which would actually be a shorter distance as the swim angles to the left from the beach. That should leave the center deserted for the start. Well, a young woman wades out right next to me, and we say our good mornings and a pleasantry or two. She then remarks, in a startled manner, that she is right in the center and that this is a bad place to be as everyone converges to the center. She promptly moves off to the left side of the start. I fail to process anything. Sorry, God.
I place myself about the fifth row back as this seems suitable to my expected time compared to the people around me. Then the gun goes off. Fifty yards of good swimming and then everything goes to Hell. People are converging in front of me from both sides at 45 degree angles from the true direction. It is such a severe convergence that I don’t get kicked because their feet are two feet away from me as their shoulders meet. However, I end up bouncing my arms off their backs. Moving 300 plus pounds of swimmers aside is impossible so I have to pull up. The masses behind me could not care less that there is no where to go. They want to swim over me. This cycle repeats about five or six times in the next 150 yards. For the first time ever in a swim, I realize panic is only a couple of more mouthfuls of water away. Later, my HRM indicated that I easily exceeded 160 beats at this time, and it wasn’t from swimming. Fortunately, patches of water start opening up and I started swimming from patch to patch. By about 700 yards, the mayhem was down to a typical wave start. Still, at 800 yards, somebody’s foot dislodged my goggles just to make it an official IM swim. Two hundred yards later, some bozo makes a really rude move and cuts me off. By now, I am a little pissed (the panic blanket having been neatly folded and put away), so I got on his feet and made a point of hitting his toes ten times in the next twenty strokes. Satisfied, I then drafted off him for several hundred yards.
The back straight away is over a mile long, but by then I had had enough of pack swimming, so I mostly stayed out to the left. It seemed like a freeway to my right with the fast lane moving steadily by. The advantage was that they were all sighting, so I pretty much just relaxed, kept my eye on them underwater, and swam. I tried to draft occasionally, but either everyone was just too fast or they wanted to go visit the guys in the kayaks out to the left. I was happy in my own little race. The second turn came after a little longer than it should have according to my head clock, but I was quite happy knowing I only had 600 meters left and that I felt pretty good and not much worse for wear. About 300 yards out, I started breathing every fourth stroke and was amazed how comfortable it felt. I was pretty sure I had kept any irrational exuberance in check for the swim.
I finally hit shallow water and did a couple of dolphin dives (it takes me a lot longer to get to where I can actually stand up and walk). Finally, I could stand and my right calf immediately cramped up into a ball. I occasionally get those three in the morning calf cramps that take a couple of days to walk off. Having one at the swim finish was an electrifying experience. It flashes in your head that your race could be done before it starts. Ten and a half months of training, 4000 miles on the bike, 250,000 yards in the pool. Doing everything right with no injuries, and you could be done just trying to stand up in the water. Not finishing, when the other virgins in the B&B are expecting you to do the best of the group. Definitely a sinking feeling in the gut.
I grabbed my foot and pulled up on my toes to keep the cramp from “locking in”. About 20 or 30 seconds of hopping on one foot, and pulling the toes back on the other (I have no idea what it looked like to the spectators) and I stopped the cramp from progressing. The calf was way sore, so I ended up hobbling through the transition zone. At this moment, I can’t run well, but if I can bike, then I have some time to work the cramp out before the marathon.
Swim result: 1:02:20, average HR: around 148 (after the start), Swim place: 295, T1: 3:24
The Bike: The game plan was to go easy on the bike and let the HR be the governor. Ideally, keep the HR at or under 130, except for the climbs. The cramp made that a much easier plan to follow. No real pain or discomfort pedaling on the flats, some concern on the McLean Creek road climb which made Richter and Yellow Lake a concern. Having a good swim followed by a mediocre bike means that everyone and their brother (maybe even their mother) passes you on the bike. The good news was I knew this going in. The first person I passed was on the McLean Creek road, a young lady. I mentioned it to her and she told me she woke up with a 101 fever that morning and was just trying to take it easy. I told her that everyone would come back to us after mile 80. At least that’s what I have heard. One of the hordes going by me at about mile 30 claimed she had never seen it that crowded that far into the bike before. I believed her. I am pretty sure that about 600 people passed me by in the first 45 miles of the bike. Steve from the B&B passed me at mile 40, the only friendly face I saw on the whole bike. Then came Richter.
First off, I had to pee for the last 15 miles. And, truth be told, I could use a sit down as well. I haven’t got the foggiest notion yet as to how to work that low residue business and still have enough in the gut to get started on the day. On the other hand, I had the brilliant clarity of mind to recognize that over the last few years, I pee rather slowly standing up during marathons (don’t ask me why), and I can take care of the other business faster than I can voiding urine when standing. So, I had a nice one minute sit down right before the uphill of Richter pass. Feeling much more comfortable and knowing that hydration was going good, I was quite pleased to start Richter. I spun all the way to the top, and to my amazement, passed between ten and twenty people. There were a ton of spectators up near the top of both peaks and they were very motivating. One group was doing the wave as riders passed. I tried the wave in response, which they loved, but I would not recommend it on a tri geometry frame. I came pretty close to losing it in fact.
The rollers after Richter weren’t all that bad I thought. I tended to pass people on the downhills (didn’t get much pass 40 mph in this section), and again I would pass a few people at the steeper, top sections of the roller climbs. Sucking down Accelerade as much as possible, and working Endurolytes and Enervit salt tablets to ease the cramp along with an occasional squeeze of the calf. Richter was behind me and I was still in the race and feeling good.
A really good day for racing so far. A bit of overcast remained during the first half of the bike, and no real significant headwinds after Richter. I estimated my 56 mile time at around 3:03, so no sub 6:00 bike time, and no Kona slot at that rate, which kind of took some pressure off. Everyone was just flat out blowing into Keremeos after the rollers, generally about 20-21 mph. I think there was a bit of a detour here as we never actually entered Keremeos proper. One short little uphill, and a turn onto the out and back road. Some tough and speedy looking people were going by the other direction but I think the leaders had already gone by. The special needs bags were a welcome sight. 37 miles to go. I was beginning to forget all about my cramped calf.
Getting back on route 3A after Keremeos begins the final siege of Yellow Lake. The first three miles are relatively easily, and once you get to Twin Lakes, it is essentially downhill to the finish, so really the bike is kind of over after 97 miles or so. But, boy, that last climb right before Yellow Lake really makes you work. Plus, it was getting warm. You really want to have something in the tank and in the legs for it. Again, I stayed seated and just spun. The heart rate was topping out around 159 and I was in the 27. But, again, I was passing a fair number of people. It had finally started to thin out, so not as many people. Also again, the crowds were tremendous, definitely a boost. And then, Yellow Lake, what a lovely section of flat road.
I did feather the brakes a bit on the initial descent. I topped out at 45.4 mph. Time for a bit of stretching along Skaha and down Main Street, and soak in the realization that I was two-thirds through an Ironman and that I was feeling relatively happy. I recaptured about 150 riders since the beginning of Richter and I felt like I was starting to hold my own. Ok, not really holding my own but at least I thought I had stopped the bleeding. The big test was coming up though. What was my leg going to do when I started to run?
Bike result: 6:03:34, Pace, 18.48 mph, Average HR: 131, Bike place: 838, Overall Place after bike:675, T2: 6:10 Accumulated Time: 7:15:28 Plenty of time to see the race leaders out on course!
The Run –Rookie Mistake #2 After that long bike, you return to town with all these people cheering you on. Main St. was packed! Volunteers are Johnny on the spot to collect your bike. Euphoria runs rampant. I was so focused on getting my HRM watch unstrapped from the bike before the bike disappeared that I forgot about my calf. I then trotted off to get my run bag, made another pit stop, and moved onto the change tent. I felt great. My back had no complaints, my legs had no complaints, my stomach was a little full which is sort of normal for me. So I changed shorts, grabbed my nutrition and hat and took off. I trotted right on out of the transition zone and realized that my leg felt fine! Halleluiah! All I had to do now was run 26.2 miles. That was easy compared to limping/walking the whole way. My worse case scenario running in my head on the bike was that I had plenty of time to walk the marathon for probably a 15 hour finish. But, now, I could run! I saw my wife on Lakeshore just after Main St., and again on the way back to Main St. along with Judy and Big Mike (the other B&B spouses).
The only problem was I was a little too jazzed. My ending HR for the bike was 117. My average HR for T2 was 118, but I left T2 with a 167 heart rate!?. By a quarter mile into the run, I was at 155. I passed the first mile mark in 7:15. For the record, a good marathon pace for me is 8:00 per mile. A great hIM run pace is 7:30 -7:45 per mile. A 7:15 pace is clearly suicide. I looked at my watch and didn’t believe it. The race staff probably misplaced the marker. A misplaced mile marker in an IMNA event? Don’t look now, but the guy in the boat just passed by. After the race, I found out I averaged 155 beats for the first mile.
Even with a brief walk through the first aid station, my second mile was 7:46. As great as I felt, I knew the pace had to slow down, however, I only had the one gear. I have never experienced this before. From the second aid station on, I started alternating walking the full length and taking sponges and water. I didn’t start my Hammer gel until the five mile station, a lesson learned in hIMs that I needed to let my stomach clear a bit from the bike nutrition, as I can carry more on the bike than when running.
Despite my efforts to slow down, I still went through the five mile mark in 40:05. I still felt great, but it was getting hot as the clouds had really cleared out. Tom Evans passed the opposite way just after I went past the five mile mark. He looked like he was just floating along. Gordo went by in another minute or so, with the determined man on a mission look. I was looking forward to doing the flat section of the run course along the lake starting out around mile seven or eight. When I got there, Lisa Bently went trucking by, very focused. She had a sizable lead over second. The other pros I would have recognized, Stefan Holzner and Mary Uhl had dropped out early. Jasper Blake went by but I didn’t recognize him. My bad.
By mile ten, my pace, with walking the aid stations, had dropped to nine minutes. However, the writing was clearly evident on the wall. It was getting awfully warm after the wet overcast week, and the heart rate was still up in the high 150's. I started thinking in my head that with Kona only seven weeks away, I didn’t want to qualify with the way I was currently feeling. I was actually telling myself to slow down so that I wouldn’t! Funny to read Gordo express the same concern about Kona after he finished the race. The biggest hill on the run occurs at about mile 10 ½, right after the McLean Creek road turn off. I had practiced this section earlier. I knew what was coming. I ran the first half, and when the effort got too sizable, I power walked to the top per the advice of a friend who did IMLP earlier this year. Still, that effort popped my cork, and I did my first non-programmed walk during mile eleven. After that, it was downhill into the turn around, and the run special needs, and a little short lived psychological boost. About 2:02 for the first half of the marathon.
To poorly quote Mr. Demerly “The Ironman is not about a 2.4 mile swim, a 112 mile bike and a 26.2 mile run. It is about running a half marathon after you are totally destroyed.” I had this running through my head all through the first half of the run. Now, my moment of truth had come. Those early fast miles were making themselves felt in my legs. My HR was steadily creeping up in the low 160s. I picked myself up into a run after the turn around, but it was a little balky. I lasted about a quarter mile. The one big hill at mile 10.5 is replaced by a series of little climbs from the other direction. No brainers during the previous week workouts, they were much more difficult on race day.
I hit my first real low of the day, but alas I didn’t recognize it. I slipped into marathon mentality and thought “walking at mile 14 means for a very long day to finish the last 12 miles.” I recorded 11:23 for the 14th mile. I also hit 169 on the HRM. This was approaching significant anaerobic country. I made, what in retrospect was my smartest decision of the day, the decision to walk every time my HR hit 160 until it dropped to 140. I stopped recording the mile intervals as this had little value with times approaching 12 minutes. Steve went by me again at mile 17, how in the world…?! Later on he told me I blew by him earlier in the run and that he knew he would see me again later. At mile 19, I decided to try the Coke solution (Pepsi in this case) for the first time ever in a race. The first one went down very nice. I added it to the list at all the remaining aid stations. By mile 20, I was feeling better. I started recording mile times again. Not surprisingly, from mile 14 through mile 20, my HR averaged 140, so pulling back had an obvious effect. I probably had 30-40 runners go by me in that time, so it appeared to me that I was well back in the pack.
The remaining miles I continued to drop my pace back down, 11:10 for mile 21, 10:57 for mile 22, 10:49 for mile 23. The average HR for these miles ranged from 142 to 138, ideally where I should have been all along. I stopped the Hammer gel after the 22 mile aid station simply because it wouldn’t have time to digest by the time I finished. Otherwise, I had no problem continuing to eat. The Pepsi had lost its snap, but I continued drinking it. Another 50-54 yr old passed me on Main St., about a block from the Hogs Breath, and I let him go, next year I don’t think that will happen. Ten to twenty people passed me in the last five to six miles, but for the most part we were playing leap frog. I reserved walking to the aid stations and at the mile markers. Others had a different pattern, and it resulted in a lot of back and forth. I didn’t want to walk in the downtown and Lakeshore areas as the crowds were immense and people want to help you keep going. Thankfully, the aid stations were located strategically well for me. I had one last mid station walk around the 24 mile mark. From there I was able to pick it up and finish the last 1.2 miles at a 9:31 pace.
I was able to pick out my wife in the stands near the finish, I swear it is one of the few times ever I have been able to do so. Way cool. The minute I crossed the finish line, I felt great. I mean really, really great. I felt like I could go another couple of miles. It was daylight, it was over and I felt really, really great.
I didn’t go hard enough. ;-)
Run results: 4:24:12, Pace: 10:05/mile, Run place: 544, Overall Place after run:533/2056 Finish Time: 11:39:40 Age group result: 18/123
Post Race: First off, let me thank Tom, the volunteer who took me by the elbow and escorted me through the finish area. He picked up the finishing gear, signed me up for a massage, showed me wear I could rinse off, and just generally clung to me until it was abundantly clear I was okay. I understand that this is standard fare at IMNA events, but it was really nice to have someone doing the thinking for you after a long day on your own. The hundreds (thousand?) other volunteers did a great job as well.
Next, did I mentioned I felt great? I used a hose in the transition area to rinse off, cold water but it felt great. Put on some dry duds from my dry bag and got in the massage line. I was having a nice chat with Diona, the masseuse, when an angel walked by handing out pepperoni pizza. Fabulous. I couldn’t lie down on the table, I was a little buzzed. I did have a blister on the ball of my right foot with about an ounce and a half of fluid, the result of new shoes, soaked feet from the sponges, and a much to quick a stop at 23 miles when I dropped two of my Enervit salt tabs.
Post mortem: The cramp was probably a blessing in disguise, it really kept me conservative on the bike. I think I evenly split the first and second half of the bike course. I could have gone faster, but I might have paid more of a price on the run.
Notes
1. Interacting with spectators is definitely an energy boosting activity. I tried to say something to as many people as possible while on the bike, and I really think it helped my energy. I was redlined early in the run and just trying to hold it together later to say anything during the run. Usually it was just a thumbs up when someone mentioned my name. Next time, though, I think I will definitely try to be more interactive on the run as well.
2. I was out of focus, for me at least, from Saturday afternoon until right after the race. In part, I think, due to the size, energy and the focus of the entire town on this one race. Well, okay, the 2.4, 112, and 26.2 business was coming to a point in my head as well. I completely missed my pre-race ritual of stretching, which may or may not help me physically, but it does allow me to get centered and focus on the day. The omission may have also contributed to the calf cramp, I don’t know. The lesson is to stick to your routines as best you can regardless of the race you are doing. Next time it should be easier.
3. I have gotten faster in the water as the summer has progressed, even though my yardage has dropped. I think it has to do with simply relaxing more. Last winter, I picked up TI (please no flames) to improve body position. I think it really helped. After my 1000yd TT times dropped from over 17 minutes to under 16, I focused more on stroke. This winter I will work on TI and body position again, more interval work for short courses, but less yardage overall, and try for 60 minutes at IMLP based on being more efficient.
4. I have no idea where to start the swim at IMLP. IMC with its wide course start was unnerving. LP already has me concerned. These 2,000 plus starts are really too much and I think IMNA is really rolling the dice on this. I really think it is only a matter of time. What can anybody do if someone goes under in the first 200-400 yards? No way can any one observing see a person in distress or if they did, would not likely be able to get to that person with hundreds of people flailing away right around the person in distress.
5. I can go harder on the bike based on how well I felt when I got off the bike at IMC. I did only one group ride all year this year, and it was remarkable how much harder I pushed, especially since it was a Wed night ride practicing a sprint course for the coming Saturday. But, I did feel stronger that next race. Next year, I will do a weekly ride with this group to build up some speed. I think I can get to a 5:45 bike split with this additional effort.
6. A smarter marathon would have easily saved me 10 minutes on the run time. Better focus and a little experience will easily cure the strategy. How to get to 3:59? That is the real question.
7. Favorite long workouts: Double bricks – 1 hr 40 min on trainer, followed by 6.2 mi run, 1 hr 40 min on trainer followed by 4.8 mile run. Next year, triple bricks to get to about 75-78 miles on trainer and 15 miles running (from Gordo’s web site and this forum I believe). Great late winter early spring work out for moderately inclement weather. (Note:Need more DVDs for trainer!) Longest bike this year was 136 miles, four weeks before IMC.
8. I did mostly Accelerade on the bike with some Hammer Gel, and then Hammer gel on the run and eventually Pepsi. I was aiming for 300 cal/hr, but actually only took in about 250/hr, but it was plenty, and I didn’t get to the point of not being able to eat. I think the caloric intake range is wider than most people realize. Dial it in for yourself. I learned a lot in the two hIMs I did this year. Being happy to eat right after the finish was a pleasant surprise. That Pizza Hut does great work.
9. Knock off about 40 minutes from this year’s effort, and I think I have a shot at Kona next year through IMLP. The long term plan is to return to IMC in 2006. If I manage Kona next year, I think that would satisfy my IMNA hunger. The races are expensive from application to race venue to home. Hell, sprints are even expensive. Time to be a smarter consumer after 2006 as the marketing powers have really turned up the heat to boil the fat out of our wallets.
Stay tuned ;-)
Behold the turtle! He makes progess only when he sticks his neck out. (James Bryant Conant)
GET OFF THE F*%KING WALL!!!!!!! (Doug Stern)
Brevity is the soul of wit. (William Shakespeare)