Ironman in Perspective, part I

As previously mentioned, I have wanted for some time to write a blog about the different Ironmans I have visited. Minus Lake Placid, I have visited all the Ironman races in the continental US. I have participated in two...Ironman Coeur d'Alene (June 07) and Ironman Florida (November 08). But through friends, I have had a chance to spectate Ironman Florida twice (06 & 07), Ironman Wisconsin (Sept 07), Ironman Louisville (August 08) and Ironman Arizona (Nov 08).

Each race is different in many regards. Of course they are all 140.6 miles; however, there is no 'easy' Ironman. They are all challenging...from the winds in Tempe to the varying weather in Madison to the hills of Lake Placid, choosing an Ironman is not easy.

I have spent a lot of time in the past two years discussing the pros and cons of a number of Ironman races. I am an advocate for all of them. I do think they are all put on very well. So when selecting an Ironman, I encourage people to use four criteria. First, choose the Ironman that is closest to you to save money; second, choose the time of year you want to race and understand what the weather is like for the 5 months leading up to the race; third, choose where you want to travel...make it a destination race; fourth, select a race with terrain similar to where you train.

First. Convenience. You can't put a price tag on it. Well, actually you. For those of us in the southeast we are really blessed to have two Ironman races in close proximity and one could argue Wisconsin i totally drivable. All of us know are familiar with the absurd cost to our sport. An Ironman easily adds to that...and in a big way. Flights, 4 nights in hotel, shipping bike, rental car, finishers gear, food. Hands down, you have just added about $2000 for your trip. That on top of the $550 you paid just to register. For convenience sake, if you can drive to the race do it. It will save you on time and stress.

Second. Time of year matters. No one wants to race when it is super hot. But as Ironman races have repeatedly demonstrated, the tri-gods have their own plans for race day. What matters is when would you be doing your training. If you select an early year Ironman (CDA), then you will begin your training when it is cold out. Select a mid-year event (MOO or KY) and your biggest month will be in July during the hottest time of year. Select the end of season event and you have to wait all year for your race. Each has its pros and cons. It is important to understand your limitations and abilities to find the race that suits you best.

Third. Location. Some races are in more inviting locales than others. Panama City Beach is nice...just not in November. Coeur d'Alene and Lake Placid have course buried deep in the woods encompassed by beauty. At trip to Madison could include a few nights in Chicago. On my trip to CDA, I chose to go to Seattle for 3 nights and then up to Vancouver for 2 more. It was my first and only time to visit the great Northwest. The key is that if a destination race is important to you then go that route.

Fourth. Training. This is simple enough. If you live on the flats of Florida, Lake Placid might not be the best race for you. Live in the mountains and Florida will be more difficult than you imagine. You want to find a course that is similar to where you train. If you don't have access to hills, you might be taking on a greater challenge by taking on a hilly course

These are the four criteria which I find crucial to the decision of which Ironman to do. In my first, I employed the destination strategy. Atlanta is hilly enough to give me the base I needed to ride hills. For my second, I wanted the convenience of my own car and minimized the cost of the event.

Up next, I will try to break down each of the races from a number of different perspectives to demonstrate what one can expect from the experience.

Back from Ironman Arizona

Yes...I am an Ironman whore. Not only do I participate, I seem to spectate several throughout the year. I just returned from five days in the deserts watching Jess and others compete in Ironman Arizona. She had I totally kick ass race. I am so incredibly proud of her.

One thing I like about watching Ironman races is that I get to travel to places I would have otherwise never visited....Madison, WI; Louisville, KY; Coeur d'Alene, ID; Tempe, AZ. I would never have picked any of these destinations in a million years.

Another interesting aspect is seeing how a city transforms to accommodate the Ironman race. Finding 112 miles of safe road is a difficult feat anywhere. In some cases, the bike and run encompass the entire city. At other venues, the race officials are able to direct athletes to side streets and neighbor hoods.

This got me to thinking about the preposterous question of which Ironman is the best? So over the next few days I am going to think through that question. There are SOOO many variables but I am going to sort through them both from a racing and spectating perspective.

I have now visited all but Lake Placid and Canada (doesn't count). And Kona trumps all so that isn't a fair assessment. But CDA, AZ, FL, WI, KY are all unique in their own way. I will attempt to capture the pros and cons of each venue so that future athletes can make more informed decisions.

And I will try to upload a few photos from this weekend!

Training will go on....sometime

As you might imagine, I am taking some serious down time right now. My knee and I had a number of heart to hearts throughout the season. I promised that if it got me through IMFL, then I would shut it down for a while. So I am owning up to my promise.

Two weeks post-IM, I still feel pretty bad. My body is not happy. It is still adjusting and I didn't manage to score a post race massage. I feel as if I have muscles in all the wrong places. I know it will be impossible for me to escape injury in the recovery process so I am trying minimize activity to provide ample time for the body to adjust.

Ideally, I hope to take off the rest of the month and come back recharged in December. I haven't found a solid routine yet so until that happens, I likely won't hit the ground running too hard (figuratively and literally). Instead, I will workout when I want and at the intensity I want. I hope to run 2-3x a week, keeping it easy at about 3-4 miles. I want to get in the pool (maybe) a couple of times a week. I will likely back off the bike since I hate the trainer. I need to send my energy back into the weight room and yoga classes. I need to work on strength and flexibility. Those are core to my training for next season.

Most importantly, I want to just get away from it all and take a serious mental break. This season was too long. I learned my lesson and will apply better logic moving forward. This down time also provides me ample opportunity to think through the season and prepare for next. I should have my 2009 calendar ready in a few weeks.

Until then, I will continue to sleep, eat bad and consume too much beer. It is time to put on the winter pounds!

Blogging next steps.....

First I need to thank my loyal readers for your interest in my blog. I started this blog nearly a year ago as a means to document several things in my training. After some searching, I decided to open it to family and friends so that they could follow me throughout the season. After additional searching, I broadcast it to the world.

It has been a healthy habit. I feel like it has pushed me at times. Self-reflection comes very easy to me. But attempting to capture in words what I am thinking takes a different skill. It is opening up for an anonymous readership. I struggled with that at times but I feel like I try to hold true to my words and blog about both the ups and downs of training and racing. Though I sometimes feel superior or immortal, I am merely a humble human (most of the time).

Blogging also doesn't come without consequences. There are vastly different opinions on a multitude of topics in this sport. A group of us could spend all day discussing the theories behind a bike fit. That isn't to say that my opinion is any more right than anyone else. From that perspective, I blog about what I know. I have a constant struggle with how I approach this blog. On one hand, I want to keep this blog about me and my training. On the other hand, I feel some responsibility to talk about certain issues, strategies or philosophies in the sport.

In the coming month, I am going to blog a bit more. I think I am going to venture into the latter side of the dilemma and discuss a number of other topics. At times this might be controversial. I don't believe I will take a popular stand on a number of conventional positions. But I will always attempt to make clear that I am just blogging about my thoughts/theories based on my experience in the sport. Again, none of this means that I am correct or that my thoughts shouldn't be challenged.

This is where I ask you all to challenge some of my assumptions. Feel free to do so in comments or via email. Also, if there are particular topics you are specifically interested in or would like me to elaborate on, let me know. Time permitting, I will explore them. I keep a laundry list of blog topics and I have a cache of half written blogs.

All that being said, I again want to thank my readership...those who stay for 5 minutes to those who stalk, I mean read frequently. I hope that I have inspired some. I hope that I have provided a true reflection of myself and the sport. I hope I have encouraged others to push themselves. But most importantly, I hope you stay tuned. I think 2009 might have a few surprises...

What worked..what didn't

I like to give myself some time after a race to think through the entire process a bit more. As I mentioned before, there is always a few pivotal moments in the race that make or break your day. I wanted to blog with some additional thoughts about did or did not go well that day. Some of it was in my control, some wasn't.

What worked:
1. The weather. A bit chilly in the morning, a bit hot in the afternoon but otherwise perfect for racing. The water was calm and the wind was subtle.

2. Nutrition--bike nutrition was dead on. I love Infinit. It is complicated to take a number of bottles on the bike but if consistency is the key, then Infinit is gold. I trained with Infinit and nothing else for the last month. Love it...just don't want to taste it again for a few months.

3. Race Strategy--I stuck to the plan (for the most part).

4. Being severely under trained. The motto is true that it is better to be 10% under trained than 1% over trained. There were a lot of over trained athletes out there.

5. Training. Particularly the Jacksonville-Valdosta ride. That was crucial not only for my ego but in an effort to learn how to ride on the flats.

6. My mental strength. I don't know where it came from. I don't know if I could do it again. It was there on 11/1 and that is all that matters

What didn't go well:

1. Starting way in the front on the swim. I didn't get out quick enough. I am looking for some good video footage from a particular POV. I think I have a different strategy for the next one.

2. Run training. I know I shouldn't bitch about it but it was a hindrance. I pulled off a great run on little volume. I am really concerned about the short-term damage.

3. Run nutrition. I kinda forgot about it. I needed more calories.

4. Not pushing the bike. This is probably where I am most upset with myself. There is such a thin line between pushing the pace and pushing it too hard. I was too scared to push it. I am willing to bet that I could have easily pulled a 5:15.

5. Losing a contact. Enough said.

What to change for the future:

1. More intensity training on the bike. I need to learn where that line is.

2. Racing a few more Half's as preparation (nothing I could do about it this year)

3. Making the full switch to power next year, hopefully ending the dependence on HR zones on the bike.

IM FL Race Report (long)

I actually slept the night before. That makes me 2/2 in Ironman sleeping. I woke up at 4:00 that morning. I forced a banana, ensure and PB bagel down. I was relatively calm which pleased me. I retrieved my bottles from the freezer and double checked my special needs bags. I made it to transition around 5:15, found a body marker (missed Sarah by 10 feet...doh!) dropped off the bags, pumped the tires and did a brief walk through. I had tons of nervous energy and felt like there was so much more to do in transition. (per previous blog, you drop off your bike and gear the day before so there really is nothing to do). I decided to get away from transition and find a quiet place. We decided to enter the host hotel and hang out in the hallway. I was able to just lie there, relaxing before the big day.

Around 6:15 the nervous energy was getting to me. I needed to be moving. I roamed the hallway for a few minutes shaking out the legs. And then I decided it was time to put on the wetsuit and get moving. At 6:30, I entered the chaos otherwise known as IM swim start. 2200 athletes in black neoprene. 100s of volunteers and 1000s of spectators. I luckily found my parents and gave them the only acknowledgment they would receive for the next 12 hours. I jumped in the water for a few minutes to splash around and see how I felt...so far so good.

In retrospect, it is really funny to look at pictures from that morning. I was locked in. I don't recall the pros going off. I don't recall the national anthem. I assume that I was mentally prepping for the day. Or peeing myself.

Last year at IM CDA, I feared the swim. I lined up far to the right and about 10 people back so I would steer clear of the melee. And I still got the snot beat out of me. This year, I had a different approach. I lined up right on the buoy line about 3 deep...right behind a big guy (this never works). I was going to fight it out.

The cannon went off and we waded into the water across the sandbar. Some dolphined, some swam, some just walked. I hit the water with a shot and instantly found my stroke and a place to swim. Well until I came upon two women. My goal was to go hard for the first 3-5 minutes and try to get out in the front. Well that worked for the most part. Until everyone else caught me. And the war began. Someone once described the IM swim as a whirlpool of hands, elbows and feet. That's correct. You are getting hit from every direction. I luckily managed to steer clear of any shots to the face. But arms and hands were all over my legs and lower back. That just causes you to sink. I recall thinking that I finally understand how people drown in this sport.

I have a disadvantage in the water. One I am not big enough. Two I am not aggressive enough. So I don't fight back as much. So the the next 10 minutes were a blur of trying to swim, clearing my goggles and surviving. There was no need to site as I followed feet in front of me and seemed to be inside the buoy line. Just before the first turn buoy it cleared up for a few moments, then back into the clusterf*ck. I rounded both turn buoys and set my sights on returning home for the first lap. People were everywhere. I wasn't drafting very well and couldn't see ahead very efficiently.

As we made it closer to shore people began standing up and walking. I stayed in the water and just glided with the waves. It was effortless. I finally stood up as I was closer to the shore. I glanced at the blurry clock and it read 31:xx. Sweet. I went to clear my goggles and realized my vision was still blurry. As I am walking towards the shore, I realized that my left contact in no longer in my eye. A million thoughts race through my head. There is NO way I can race with only one contact...I would get too nauseous and be a risk on the bike. I search for it some more hoping it is resting in the corner of my eye, but I can't feel anything.

When I reach the beach, I look in my goggles hoping that it didn't get washed away. My pace slows to a crawl as I move to the side and let other athletes through. I FIND it...just hanging on the lip of the goggle. I proceed to the water station and grab a cup from the volunteers. I proceed toward the water and grab the nearest volunteer for help. She was shocked and didn't know what to do. I told her to hold my arm and to keep me calm. At this point I am doing my best to NOT freak out. I keep reminding myself that it is a long day and I have only competed for 30 minutes.

The contact is folded over. And it didn't want to unfold. My biggest fear at this point is that sand was going to tear it. Her hands are full of sand so I tell her to keep doing what she is doing. We solicit the help of another volunteer who brings me some water. I pour it in my hand hoping the water cause the contact to open. Nothing. I keep rubbing it hoping it will unfold. Nothing. I recall looking up and taking a deep breath. The funniest parts are that both volunteers are frantic and are telling me to calm down. I reply, I am calm. The crowd around us has gone silent. They are eager staring wondering what the outcome will be.

I tell the second volunteer to pour some more water in my hand. As he does, he adds too much and it washes out. Patience at its finest. I tell the first volunteer to not move. I lift my hand to make sure it isn't clinging to a hair follicle or something. I look at her hands and then look down. The water made imprints in the sand so I know where about it may have landed. As I begin to squat down, I see it hanging on the first volunteers thumb. BINGO! They both let out a huge sigh. I add more water and it finally unfolds. I let her guide me in putting it in my eye and I have sight again!!! The small crowd cheers and I take off running for the water. Total time lost: 3-5 minutes. I will add that in 3 years of swimming, I have NEVER lost a contact

I spent the first half of the second lap trying to mentally re-engage. My body thought it was done swimming with the whole contact fiasco. The situation definitely threw me off my game. It was really hard to not focus on the issue. I tried to maintain the long swim strokes. I made the second turn buoy and started thinking about transition and hopping off the bike. I made it to the shore and saw 1:10:xx on the clock. Sweet. That was my goal.

I found an available wetsuit stripper to take off my suit. I nearly bypassed this part because I didn't want sand all over me. I came out of the water with a whole heap of people so I knew transition was going to be a madhouse. Experience really pays in Ironman transitions. I wasn't going to change so that cut down the time. My plan was to run to the transition exit to find a spot and a volunteer. So many people take the first seat they see and the congestion starts there. This worked flawlessly. I got the seat next to the exit and grabbed a volunteer who was standing outside.

He dumped my stuff in front of me while I briefly dried off. He then sorted everything out and even put on my race belt for me. He rolled up my arm warmers and pulled them up my arms. How awesome is that. I was in and out in no time. I went out running and beat the volunteer to my bike.

I spent the first few miles on the bike trying to get settled. It was really cold out and I mentally kept telling myself to stop bitching. After about 10 minutes I started my nutrition plan. My goal for the first portion of the bike was to get my HR down into z2. It is really difficult to not get caught up in the race when you have dozens of people flying past you. I wished the hammerheads well and knew that I would see them again.

I set a pretty aggressive goal for the bike. My bike fitness has come so far, I just wanted to have a good bike. 20+ mph or roughly 5:30-5:35. I set my garmin to take splits every 14 miles or 1/8th of the course. I knew I had to average 42 minutes to meet my goal. I hit the first 14 miles at 43:23. Hmm. I could tell I was going slower than anticipated but my HR was down so I tried to remain calm.

As I continued north on 79, I was growing increasingly unhappy. I felt like my legs had no power or energy. It was too early to kick but I wasn't having fun and was losing my mental edge. 28 mile split: 42:55. A bit better but not where I want to be. Now I am a bit more concerned about my race.

The difficult part of a flat Ironman is that people get bunched together very easily. Florida is notorious for drafting. As expected 1000 athletes got on the bike within 5 minutes of one another. Around mile 30 they caught me. I tried to fight the urge to jump into the peloton, so I moved to the right. Next thing I know, I am boxed in and can't move. Not good. I work my way through the peloton but don't want to over exert myself trying to pass them only to have them catch me again. This games goes on for about 10 miles. At some points we were riding 5 wide and sitting up on the bike chatting.

This didn't do much for my mindset. It was nice because the drafting caused my heartrate to bottom out. Put I was pissed because I knew I was a much better rider than this. So I decided to make a move. I pulled into the other lane and started hammering. I was going to force a good ride out of myself. And this seemed to work. I just set my eyes on the athlete in front of me and went for them. I let go of HR for a while and worked on finding my groove. This seemed to work. 42 mile split: 38:22. Sweet.

The special needs bags came a bit earlier than anticipated at about mile 46. I exchanged my bottles for new ones. They were still frozen. Oops. Oh well, gotta go. I got through special needs MUCH faster than most people. I gave the volunteer my arm warmers (even got them back). That was it. No issues, no decisions. When I turned onto 231 I was back in the zone. I made it to the 56 mile mark in 2h 44m. Right on target. Split was 39:30 including the brief stop.

I put the hammer down on 231. I just lowered my head and watched the white line below me. A couple of guys were on my wheel and I let it go. Ride my race. We turned onto the next road which was brutal. It had rivets about every 10 feet. They were brutal enough to make you think your wheel was going to flat at each moment. Then we turned north and I felt the first headwind of the day. It didn't make matters easier that it was a slight incline. I just shook my head at the people trying to hammer it.

The next turn was a brief out and bike. It still had a small incline and slight wind. I hit the 70 mile mark with a 41:40 split. Not bad for the conditions. I made it to the 73 mile timing mat. Then some ass tried to shoot through the turnaround and it bumped me around the cones, hence I missed the mat. People started telling me to go back because I was going to get dq'd. Right. I am sure I am the only one to miss a tight turnaround. Plus, I have the course loaded on my garmin. I am sure that is the least of an IM ref's concerns.

My race plan said to pick it up at mile 75 and push it. I decided that it wasn't time. I was in my rhythm again and felt really good. There was a slight tailwind on 388 and I came zipping through to the 84 mile split at 39:13. I was feeling really good. I tried to pick it up a bit at mile 85. The body didn't want to push. I decided that I had an aggressive pace and felt VERY comfortable. No need to change that. When I hit 79 again, I still felt fresh and I was picking off people left and right. I hit the 98 mile split in 38:22. Even better. I felt like I was getting stronger as the ride was going.

The final turn onto Front Beach was the worst stretch. You knew that you were so close, yet so far away. I swear that road continued on. It seemed like 3-4 miles on the out but 50 on the return. I just focused on keeping my head down occasionally chatting with the 2-3 guys I was riding with.

Two things worked really well for me on the bike. My nutrition plan was solid. I made it through 5 bottles of Infinit for a total 1425 calories. I had a 6th bottle as backup but didn't need it. I also stopped taking on calories with about 15-20 minutes to go. Secondly, I stayed cool. I took a water bottle from every station starting at mile 40. I would always dump the excess on my head before disposing of it. The day wasn't hot but getting warm was something the plagued me big time in training.

So I made it back to the transition in 5:23 or 20.7 mph. Awesome. And the best part is that I didn't feel trashed at all. I felt like I had really sandbagged the last 30 miles but it worked.

I hopped off the bike, handing it to the volunteer as I made my way to get my bag. My only complaint in the day is that this part was a bit chaotic. I could have gotten my t2 bag much quicker than the volunteer. Oh well. I entered the tent with a plan to be quick. I again saved time by not changing. I quickly wiped off my feet, added some body glide and slid on my shoes. I was off in 3:21 and heard Jess yelling on the hill

The run was literally my achilles. Given my ITBS injury, I had NO clue what to expect. My plan was to run until I was tired and then begin to improvise to just get through it. I instantly felt some pain in my kne and I wasn't happy. I just needed to settle into a groove and go. I instantly grabbed some sponges to keep me cool. I put two in my tri top, one on the back of my neck and one on the small of my back. I saw the Marcs early on and hollered at them. I felt like I was moving at a snails pace. I hit the first mile-8:17. Oops. WAY too fast. I spent the next mile trying to establish that race pace.

I passed my family during mile 2. I acknowledged them briefly but I was locked into my race at this point. I just wanted to have a good run out to the park. I thought that would dictate the rest of the day. So I gave them a slight wave and moved forward. I stopped mile 3 for a gel and some water. I needed to gel every 3 miles. At this point it was getting hot. It was roughly 2 pm and though the temperature was moderate the sun was beating down. I did a good job of grabbing 2-4 cups of water and dumping them on my head (the sponges catch them and keep you cool).

At this point I decided to switch to walking every aid station. This was going to be the only way I would stay hydrated and cool. So the game became-make it to the next aid station....make it to the next aid station. I was still holding a solid 9 minute pace. I made it to the 6.55 turnaround in 58 minutes. Awesome. I knew that was a bit fast but I was a quarter through the marathon.

The best part about an out and back is getting to see friends. You can encourage one another at several points. Around mile 8, I felt the day's intensity set it. I was beginning to really tire. I looked at my watch and was about 1:15 into the run. My longest run in training was about 80 minutes. I was at the wall. This is where breaking down the marathon into shorter increments really help. I was still locked into my run so I concentrated on just making it to the next aid station (theme of the day).

I cruised through the next 6.55 miles in just under 65 minutes. I was half way home. I finished the first marathon in 2h 4m or roughly 9:30 pace. My most optomistic goal for the day was 9:30-10:00 pace. I was feeling good. I also peaked at the finishers clock. I started calculating splits in my head. Needless to say that after 9 hours of working out your math is a bit off. It was fuzzy and I couldn't make sense of it at all.

I bypassed my special needs bag as there was nothing I needed. I continued to play the aid station game and just focused on making it back out to the part. On this stretch, I realized I was behind on my nutrition. I was starting to slow down and wonder if the wheels were finally coming off. My walks at aid stations started to become a bit longer. I was grabbing anything wet I could...gatorade, water, cola, water, ice. Repeat.

In retrospect, this was the difference in the race. A week later I am still shocked that I didn't crack during this stretch. It was a struggle to make it back out to the park as I took me about 70 minutes at a 10:37 pace. Once I hit the turn around, I let out a huge sigh. I had a 10k to run. As I made it past the Inspirational Mile, I saw the race clock. Grrrr. It read 10:02:xx. That means I have 57 minutes to push a 10k and break 11 hours. That's going to take a lot...but I am going to push it.

I push and the body pushes back. The legs ask what the hell I am thinking. I still try to push through the pain. It hurts. I hit the next aid station, take a final gel and one of everything. I continue to push, grimacing at nearly every step. I am looking at my watch trying to do more fuzzy math. It isn't happening. I came out of the park and just starred down Thomas Dr. I knew that just beyond my sight was the finish line. It was just my job to get there...in one piece. I could feel my pace beginning to slightly increase.

At mile 23, I prepared to start skipping aid stations. But the pain was too much. Just like the bike, what I was doing was working and it didn't seem worthwhile to change that approach. I thought about it again at mile 24. Just keep doing what you are doing and you will get there faster. The wheels were just barely hanging on and I didn't want to disrupt that process. With about a 1.5 miles left I could hear Mike Reilly's voice in the background. That is always motivating.

I pushed harder and prepared for the pain. A quick glance at my watch said it was going to be really close. I knew I was in the range of sub-11 and I wanted it really bad. But my body wanted to stop. I pushed and my pace dropped under 10:00 miles. When I saw my 25 mile split, I knew I wouldn't make it. It needed to be low 8's. I passed the Marcs and Street started trying to pace me. I pushed but couldn't keep up with his drunken jog. I really thought I would be overwhelmed with emotions as I was last year. I guess pushing at a more intense pace for 4 hours will drain you of everything. My final mile, however, was at a 9:21 pace. Final marathon time 4:20...just under 10:00 pace

The emotions really show at the finish line. I wanted to enjoy a slow job and take in the moment. But the emotions got the best of me because it was just a blur. I crossed the finish line at 11:03:36.

I think I was finally able to acknowledge my parents as I saw them standing to the left of the finish line. I grabbed a volunteer to guide me through the melee at the finisher's line. I nearly bypassed the photo. Then I found my parents and siblings. I was extremely nauseous and lightheaded. The minute I stopped I was ready to drop as the adrenaline was quickly leaving my body. I told Jess to get me to a place where I can lie down. Unfortunately the only place was the medical tent. They took my vitals and brought me hydration. About 20-25 minutes later I was ready to go. I just needed some warm clothes. I made my way to the food tent, grabbing a few slices of pizza and more importantly a place to sit down. I was done. Ironman Florida 2008...Done!

The Final Stretch

I left town Wednesday morning for Ironman Florida. For the most part, I was in a great mood throughout the drive. I arrived at the home around 2 and headed to Publix for my first order of business. I had some extra time before Jess was to arrive so I went ahead and checked-in for the event. Sweet. 10 minutes and I was done.

She arrived shortly there after and we headed down to the expo. In the closing weeks, I failed to ever purchase a tri top for the race. I brought one with me...but I wanted something different. After visiting the expo, it was time to get off my feet. She went to Publix and we made spaghetti and meat sauce for dinner. We made it an early night.

We got up at 6 the next morning and I headed down to the Gatorade swim. It was bitter cold that morning but I met up with a number of people. The day before I purchased a new pair of goggles. For sometime I have wanted to change brands and just happen to need a spare pair for the race. So I suited up and hit the water for about 20 minutes. I felt really good. The water was dead calm so it felt effortless.

Following the swim, I headed to Walmart to buy some movies...a weak attempt to keep me off my legs. Jess returned from her ride and volunteered to get lunch. Mmmm....Backyard Burger. That afternoon we went for a brief run on the course. My goal was to try a 9/1 approach (where you run 9 minutes, walk 1). In the back of my mind, I thought this was going to be a plausible approach to the marathon. So my 20-25 minute run went a little long as I mis-estimated the distance.

My parents arrived shortly afterwards and they too headed to the store first. Mom came back and made us some chicken fettuccine dish and they departed for oysters. Jeff and Brian came down for a while and the laughter and tears were rolling. I am not sure if my parents knew what to make of the photobooth effect. Finally we got to bed. I didn't sleep that well.

Friday was much of the same. We were up at 7:00 and headed down to the swim start. The water was a bit choppier so it provided ample opportunity to work between the waves. Post swim, I returned to the house and began to prepare my special needs bags. After obsessing for a while, it was time to check the bike. I took my parents down to the expo, checked the gear and gave them a brief IM walkthrough. Then we returned home for a nap.

My brother and sister arrived that afternoon and the family went back for oysters. Jess and I decided on pizza from a local joint. My plan was to be in bed by 8:30, lights out by 9:00. I think it was in bed by 8:00. Out cold by 9:00.

I must say that I felt really good leading up to the race. I never felt panicky. I never stressed that much. Maybe that was the benefit of a brief taper. I was ready to get it over with.

100 Steps of Ironman Weekend

There are a few of these floating around on the Internet. I have a running list of things to add so I thought it was time to create one. This isn't 100% accurate but it is definitely close to my day....

1. Arrive in Panama City.

2. Smile because you know that your accommodations meet your needs

3. Call your friends only to hear them bitch about their 300sf over-priced hotel

4. Unload the bike and display it in the safest and most prominent part of the house

5. Sit down and wonder what you are going to do for the next 3 days before the event

6. Go to registration tent, stand in line, get bracelet and swag. Walk around the expo looking for free stuff.

7. Make fun of all the people wearing $80 compression socks out in public

8. Make fun of all the people paying $45 for a shirt because it says IMFL

9. Look at the ocean. Pray to trigods for calm weather

10. Realize that walking around is making your tired so you head back home

11. Run into 25 people you know and realize 2 hours later that you still haven’t made it back home

12. Dump contents of expo bag on kitchen table looking for free stuff. Cheap bastards only gave me lip balm and a coozie from Morris Real Estate

13. Throw away the five pounds of flyers ranging from endless pools to Ironman prayer groups

14. Spend 4 hours attaching numbers to your bicycle, helmet, and race outfit. Panic that you don’t have 8 pieces of reflective tape for your run outfit, even though IMNA has never been known to enforce the rule

15. Take pictures of the bike

16. Decide to ride the run course

17. Display little to no regard for traffic because it is IM weekend. Annoy the locals even more

18. Realize the bike doesn’t feel right. And freak out

19. Decide that you are now a bike mechanic and begin making adjustments

20. Shamelessly find the guys from Elite bikes to fix your repair. And only the guys from Elite because they are far enough from the venue that no one will see you

21. Go to the Gatorade swim start the next morning

22. Put wetsuit on, stand around talking for 30 minutes. Swim 15 minutes and hope people are thinking…wow he is fast

23. Exit the water trying to hide the fact that you just swam 15s faster than your T-pace and are winded

24. Think to yourself…can I really swim 2.4 miles?

25. Act like a penguin in the wetsuit

26. Go to waffle house (choose any of the 10 in town) for a large breakfast

27. Remember how much you HATE waffle house

28. Nap

29. Go for a 30 minute run in the afternoon to see how hot it is

30. Get a gentle reminder that you ate Waffle House

31. Run the final mile in 7:30 and barely make it back to the house in time

32. Lay out all your special needs bags throughout the living room

33. Begin making post its notes of the bags contents. Make a master post-it note of all the post-it notes

34. Pack transition bags.

35. Drive to Carbo-dinner. Stand in line, proceed through buffet with poor food selection, sit at crowded table, and remember you paid an extra $20 each so your family could enjoy this food. Listen to the screech of PNF’s voice. Wonder why you came. Get pumped up about doing an Ironman. Stand in line to leave

36. Unpack transition bags.

37. Repack transition bags.

38. Go to bed knowing that you forgot something

39. Go to Friday morning Gatorade swim and repeat #23-25

40. Stress that your wetsuit didn’t feel right, goggles were leaking and the chop was 10x worse than yesterday

41. Prep bike to drop off . Spend 45 minutes positioning your tubular tire so that it doesn’t create negative drag on the bike (nevermind it wasn’t an issue all season)

42. Freak out about double flatting. Drive to expo, stand in line, pay $80 for tubular tire. Get back to home, realize you don’t know how to glue on a tubular, drive back to expo and have them do it for you.

43. Put the spare in your bike special…just in case

44. Realize that your bike special needs now weighs 22 pounds…just in case

45. Drop bike off, wonder if you should put plastic bags over it to keep it dry despite the forecast showing 0% of rain

46. Drop off your transition bags, realize you forgot something. Make a mental note to bring it in the morning. Remind your Sherpa to remind you.

47. Realize there is nothing more you can do to get ready. Sit down and relax.

48. Realize you haven’t packed your nutrition

49. Act like a drug dealer, carefully pouring white powder into 6 bottles and shaking them.

50. Stress about what’s for dinner by analyzing the perfect amount of carbs and protein needed to have a good race

51. Settle for Mellow Mushroom or Wendy’s because now you are hungry

52. Go to bed early, have nightmares of sleeping through your alarm, lie there in a cold sweat.

53. Wake up at 2:00 am for 1000 calorie bottle of nasty-tasting concoction or 2 ensures, “because Gordo does it”.

54. Wake up to every sound and freak because you know you forgot something but you can’t remember what it is.

55. Wake up at 4:00 am

56. Force a banana, ensure and PB bagel down your throat

57. Pray that you need to take a dump before you leave the house

58. Drive to the start. Stand in line for a parking spot. Stand in line for body marking. Stand in line to enter transition. Stand in line to pump your tires. Stand in line for porta potties

59. Realize that you left bottles in the freezer and send your Sherpa back to get them

60. Find a quiet warm spot to chill only to have 200 other athletes join you.

61. Listen to d-bags brag about how bad the conditions were in their race. Listen to first timers and realize they have no clue what they are doing.

62. Walk out to the beach and put on wetsuit. Get in the water but realize it doesn’t do any good.

63. Watch the sun rise and have a moment of zen.

64. Try to find a large guy who can swim. Line up directly behind him. He is your torpedo.

65. Gun goes off, 2000 people attempt to swim on top of you, realize that you are in mortal danger or drowning and few moments of your life have been this dangerous.

66. Get kicked in face, goggles come off, panic and tread water trying to get them back on while people hit you. Remember you paid good money to do this.

67. Exit swim, stand in line to get into transition.

68. Enter the change tent where 300 wet naked guys are. Grab a volunteer for help. Thank the volunteer for what has to be the worst job in all of IM racing

69. Start bike, realize that there is no way 1000 people can pack onto a course within 20 minutes without massive drafting problems.

70. Ride, ride, ride, ignore that noise, ride, ride, ignore that feeling in your stomach, ride, ride, ride, ignore that it feels your bike has a flat, ride, ride, ride, realize the road, wind, hill sux, ride, ride, ride

71. Realize that you haven’t touched your nutrition plan.

72. Play catchup with nutrition

73. Slow down because you feel sick

74. Realize you have to pee but don’t want to stop and wait at a porta potty

75. Slow down and move to the right. Ahhhhhh. Much better now. And your left leg/foot is warm. Realize you don’t have a water bottle to wash off with. Use your infinit. Get even stickier

76. Spend the next 10 minutes trying to quantify the cost of the Infinit that you just wasted to wash urine off your body.

77. Enter transition and do the slowest flying dismount in the history of triathlon but you looked cool…even if you were passed by 4 people. Enter T2 wondering how you can run 26.2 at this point

78. Make it to the next aid station, make it to the next aid station, make it to the next aid station, make it to the next aid station

79. Give scornful looks at the pros because they look effortless

80. Sample the variety of food at aid stations because another gel will NOT go in your mouth. Discover Oreos, grapes, oranges. There is a GOD!!!

81. Revert to the Ironman shuffle to push a 13 min/mile pace. But at least you aren’t walking!!!

82. Chicken Broth! And you thought there was a god when you discovered oreos. More chicken broth. Burn your tongue on the hot chicken broth. Put ice in your mouth. Get chills all over

83. Begin to hear Mike Reilly’s voice. Miraculously begin running again. Spend the final 2 miles setting a PR because you are about to become an Ironman

84. See finishing chute. Sprint madly down the road high-fiving people and cheering while announcer screams your name.

85. Prepare to have your moment at the finish line only to have some douchebag and his 3 kids run in front of you screwing up your finisher’s photo.

86. Get your medal, shirt, hat and mylar. Stand in line waiting on douchebag to get pictures with his kids, wife, grandma, local sheriff and family cat

87. Realize you need to get to the med tent…FAST. Spend 2 hours getting an IV because you failed to execute your nutrition plan.

88. Bounce back after some cold pizza, enter the stands and fight with a 12-year old for a Timex visor that you already own. Scream, I did and f’ing Ironman today it is MINE!!!

89. Go back home. Debate if you have the energy to shower. Listen to the pleas of your Sherpa to PLEASE shower. Smell yourself. I am not that bad. Hear the water running only to be guided into the shower…still in your tri suit. Go to bed

90. Wake at 4:00 in a bunch of pain and starving. Realize Waffle House is the only place open. Shuffle down there for 3 waffles, 4 eggs, 6 biscuits and 2 glasses of chocolate. Re-enter coma

91. Wake at 7 due to stomach. Damn Waffle House. Spend 45 minutes on the toilet wondering if it will ever end.

92. Call out for another magazine…you aren’t done

93. Pour over the results only to realize that your PR was trumped by the fact that a 65 year old woman beat you

94. Go to Official Finishers merchandise tent. Stand in line. Laugh at all the gear and the guy spending $500 to brag about his undertrained 16:45 Ironman finish

95. Make fun of all the people talking about getting a tattoo to immortalize their achievement.

96. Look at the line to register for next year. Try to ignore it. Debate it. Kick yourself because you are now standing in line

97. Eat again. Eat some more. And when you are full. Eat some more.

98. Though it took you 3 days to pack, you are able to pack your car in 15 minutes, throwing all your valuable equipment into the trunk hoping nothing breaks.

99. Get a text from your coach reminding you that training for the 2009 season begins in 3 weeks.

100 Let out a smile because you are ready for what the next season brings….

Fate, destiny, a lucky guess?

I am blogging...I promise. Writing an IM race report takes a ton of time. Plus, I thought I might wait for the race photos. Today is my first day back in the office. And I was astonished at a piece of paper left on my desk. On it, I was calculating what it would take to Kona Qualify at IMFL. For the experiment, I was estimating sub 9:30.

I started with my splits from IM CDA and worked myself down in each of the disciplines. 5 minutes here, 20-30 there. I was attempting to quantify how much work would it take to say lower my bike time by 20 minutes. Is it even attainable? These things look easy on paper.

What amazed me is that I wrote down the following splits:
Swim-1:10:00
T1-05:00
Bike: 5:30:00
T2: 03:00
Run: 4:15:00
Total Time: 11:03:00

I circled the time and wrote: Get there first.

Wow. That gave me shivers
I am there.