All- Below is my IM Florida Race report. It got rather out of control and is in two parts. The first part turned out to be more of an inquiry into the nature of the sport and the second part is the actual race report. I think the first part is much more interesting than the second.
In three years of faithful reading and posting on the Slowtwitch forum I have gained hundreds of little bits of knowledge that definitely contributed to my PR at Florida. Thanks to everyone on the forum that has helped me out along the way!
Chris Sweet
The Essence of Ironman
“I know that people are changed by an Ironman. All finishers know this. Try to define that. Go ahead. The words will never come. It is enough to hear the stories, to watch the returning smiles. Witness the metamorphosis.”
-Scott Tinley “Why Dare to Dream?”
He’s right you know. The words will never come. It’s been more than a year and I have yet to complete my Ironman Wisconsin race report. Not that I haven’t tried. The report has been subjected to a myriad of revisions and re-writes. My inability to finish is partially due to my own conceptions of literary excellence; but it’s not like I haven’t written crap before and been ok with it. Rather, it is a nagging sense that the story I am trying to tell is incomplete, insufficient. What worries me is that I am beginning to realize that I will never be able to tell a complete, or maybe even a sufficient, story. How does one write about an Ironman? It is quite easy to report the facts -elevation gain, wind speed, temperature, splits and places- it is something altogether different to try and capture the essence of the thing. For all the emphasis our sport places on these “facts”, they have almost nothing to do with the essence of ironman. I attempted to write that “the essence of ironman occurs on race day somewhere between the starting line and the finish line,” but I immediately recognized that this is not true; this is too narrow a conception of Ironman. What happens on race day is indeed the core experience, but the essence of ironman is much greater, more all-encompassing. The essence of ironman has no identifiable beginning or end. The race works its way into the fiber of our existence long before the day we find ourselves standing on the beach with 2000 other crazies. Similarly, the influence of ironman is with us long after we cross the finish line. The essence of ironman definitely has something to do with the moment you make the final click for registration and you acknowledge what you’ve committed to (along with acknowledging that your credit card bill will be $400 dollars greater next month). The essence of ironman obviously has something to do with the cheers of the crowd and the crossing of the finish line, but less obviously, it also has to do with hobbling around for the next day (or week). It has to do with swapping stories with other competitors and displaying your finishers’ medal. It has to do with holding your head a little bit higher.
Future research may show that the essence of ironman is one of the most powerful forces in the universe. The essence of ironman extends far beyond the individual competitors in the race. As individualistic and self-centered as the endeavor may seem, it is also, without contradiction, an eminently shared experience. Those of you who have completed an ironman know of the energy exchange between competitors, volunteers and spectators. The essence of ironman affects all those who come into contact with it. The essence of ironman is a virus. Anyone so brash as to actually go to a race to spectate or volunteer is putting themselves at risk. At risk of what you ask? At risk of coming into contact with a spirit, a power, a force, greater than they could ever imagine. How many people have been inspired to attempt an ironman after witnessing the accomplishments of friends or family? How many spectators go home thinking “next year that could be me”? It is an exceedingly dangerous virus, because you can become infected without ever coming into physical contact with one of the carriers. The thing is so damn insidious that it can spread over the airwaves. How many ironmen out there were inspired solely by watching Julie Moss’s dramatic Ironman finish in the 1982 Hawaii Ironman on T.V.? What about Wendy Ingraham and Sian Welch’s (in)famous crawl to the finish in the 1997 Hawaii Ironman? They can certainly count me as one of the inspired, ahh excuse me, infected.
The essence of ironman pervades all aspects of my life. Most of the time its’ influence is subtle, unacknowledged. Other times, generally the hardest times, its’ presence and strength are unmistakable.
Ironman Florida, 2003
After that long-winded and slightly pompous digression, I will try to move forward to my actual purpose, which is to document my day at Ironman Florida, 2003. I think the digression was necessary though, because to me, the why of ironman and the athletic endeavor in general, is much more interesting than any single event.
I came to be entered in this event in a rather roundabout fashion. After racing Ironman Wisconsin last year (my first Ironman) I was not very motivated to immediately register for another race (my financial situation at the time also helped make that decision). Part way through a summer of training for and racing shorter distance triathlons I started to feel that it would be a waste of a good deal of fitness if I did not attempt a late season Ironman. Since it was also my last summer with the semi-freedoms of a graduate student, I set my sights on qualifying for Ironman Florida. There was a ½ Ironman in Michigan (The Steelhead Triathlon) that had 10 slots for Florida, and fortunately I did well enough there to qualify. That race was in September and left me about a month and a half to get into Ironman shape.
I won’t bore you with training details, except to say that I really focused on riding, since that has traditionally been my weak event. I went into the race knowing that I had a good deal more endurance than the previous fall, but much less speed work.
IM Florida was my first ocean swim and I was quite excited for the challenges that could pose. One of the first I encountered was jellyfish. I had heard tales of people getting stung, but I thought that it was a really rare occurrence and I would be lucky to even see one. Wrong. In my first warm-up swim two days before the event I saw probably 50+ jellyfish and got stung a little across the face and arms. At times it was like swimming in a minefield. I hoped that on race day the swimmers in front of me would clear the way.
Race day weather was pretty nice. The highs were around 80 (a little hot coming from an Illinois fall) and winds around 10 mph. The swim is a beach start and quite different from the in-water start at Wisconsin. I prefer the in-water start, but running into the water knowing that more than 1000 athletes were on my heels was rather exhilarating. Luckily the Gulf was pretty calm for the swim. I easily found a nice rhythm and people to draft off of. For Florida, you exit the water after one loop, cross over a timing pad and run back into the ocean. My ½ way split was 27 or 28 minutes so I knew I was on pace to go under an hour (I went 1 hour flat at Wisconsin). The second loop definitely had more waves, but they were quite manageable. I was passing some of the gold caps worn by the pros, so I knew the swim was going well. The swim took me 59 minutes and felt quite easy. I only saw two jellyfish on race day.
Coming out of the swim to bike transition, I knew I was in good company. They were announcing some of the lead women pros leaving the transition with me. I would end up doing the entire bike ride within view of some of the lead women. The IM Florida bike course is flat and fast. It is actually difficult because of the lack of hills. Hills allow you to stand and then to coast, they break up the monotony. Florida has hills, but they are very long, and not very steep. Wind is the biggest element on this course. Fortunately we battled the headwind in the first 25-30 miles of the course. The rest of the day would be crosswinds and tailwinds. My plan was to ride relaxed and well within myself for the first 56 miles. I was a bit worried about my bike time for the first hour and a half until I got out of the headwind. I was feeling great so I picked it up a bit earlier than planned- at the 45-mile mark. The tailwind section was extremely fast. I averaged probably 26 mph for a 25-mile section. The crosswinds were not bad and I knew I was going to have a great day on the bike. I was definitely surprised at the amount of drafting going on. The only place I've witnessed worse is at Mrs. T's (a given). It has already been well covered here so I won't rant too much. The drafting near me was blatant. Peletons of 15 riders would routinely go around me. I was in a bad position because I was riding near the pro women the whole time. The stagger rule requires the pros to ride on the left side of the road and the age groupers the right. Many times during the day I would get stuck in pack when someone would ride next to a woman pro with age groupers on the right. There would be no way around. A few times during the ride I was unavoidably blocking, drafting, and overtaken all at the same time. Sometime during the course of the day I received a drafting penalty. I’m sure when the marshal saw me I probably was drafting, although unintentionally. If I rode the race in a peleton, the race would have no value to me. I don't draft. I compete by the rules and will take the penalty without bitching about it. Enough of that. It was fun riding with some of the lead women. I rode near Bella Comerford, Lauren Jensen and Nicole Leder for much of the race. My bike was much faster than I thought I was capable of riding: 5:09 or 21.7mph ave compared to 18.9mph at Wisconsin a year earlier (although the courses are nothing alike).
Leaving the bike to run transition, I was super excited about my chances of getting a Hawaii slot. I knew if I ran a really good marathon I could go under 9:30. I had watched on the bike and figured I had about 5-8 people in my age group ahead of me. I left transition running with Nicole Leder. I figured she has a lot more experience than I, so I would stick with her. We ran probably the first 4 or 5 miles shoulder to shoulder. It was fun listening to her spotters out on the course giving her time updates. The first ten miles of the marathon went very smooth. I was cruising pretty easily at mid 7 minute pace. It was a two-loop course and I saw Drew Hartman (from the Tri-Sharks) twice on the course. He ended up with a big sub-11 hour PR. This was the hottest part of the day though and the heat started to drain me. I started feeling weak around the turnaround and decided that I needed to start stopping at the aid stations rather than running through them. I still debate the wisdom of this decision. On the one hand, I never bonked to the point where I had to walk, but stopping at 13 aid stations really slowed down the second half of my marathon. I was really suffering during the second half and just focusing on getting to the finish. Towards the last 6 miles it did start to cool down. I picked it up as much as I could for the final two miles. I came in at 9:49 (plus the 4 minute penalty), more than 1 hour faster than my 10:55 finish in Wisconsin. I know that there is a sub-3:20 marathon hiding in my legs somewhere, but it didn’t come out this day. My marathon was 3:34, 8:11 mile pace.
There is perhaps no greater feeling than sitting down after an Ironman. Some may say that crossing the finish line is the greatest feeling, but all I wanted to do was sit. And once I sat, it took me a long time to move again. I had one big blister on each of my feet, probably from dumping so much water over my head during the marathon. Unlike Wisconsin, I recovered very quickly. Three days later I didn’t notice any soreness (other than my healing feet).
In the end, I missed my Kona slot by about 20 minutes (there were only two slots for my age group). My time would have gotten me a slot pretty much any other year, but this year was really quick. The winning time in the 18-24 age group was 9:20. I placed 129th overall and 6th in my age group. I did have the satisfaction of seeing at least a few of the pro men behind me on the results list.
A huge thanks to my mother and Cara (my fiancee) who both made the trip down to Panama City to watch the race. It really helps to be able to look forward to seeing people you know at the race. They cheered all day long, took me back to the hotel to sleep, and then went back to the finish line to cheer the last finishers in past midnight. Thanks for the support!
Next year is still up in the air. I again have not registered for any Ironman races, so if I want to do one, I’ll have to go the qualifier route again. I may just focus on doing Olympic distance races and building up my speed. In any case, Cara and my brother have both registered to do their first Ironman at Wisconsin next year, so I have that to look forward to.
Cheers,
Chris