Two world championships in five weeks! First Kona and then Clearwater 70.3 less than two weeks ago. What a year!
Hawaii was simply an awesome experience: magical, heartbreaking, humbling and tough as hell. Clearwater was fast , furious, impressive, but stands no comparison to Hawaii.
The organization of both events was excellent. The best I’ve tried so far in each category (Ironman and 70.3), but that’s what you would expect; both are the world championships. Some may complain that the issue of drafting in Clearwater should be included in organization, but I'd rather categorize it under “race execution”.
The setting for the swim in Hawaii is spectacular, and swimming the course a few days before the race I could really appreciate the beautiful waters. However, on race day the swim was pure mayhem and all business. With the mass start format this is what you would expect. Except in Hawaii everyone is a great swimmer making it absolutely crazy. I was boxed in all the way and spent the time defending my personal space from start to finish. Remarkably I had a good swim time completing in just under 1:01.
For safety reasons the swim in Clearwater was moved to the harbour side. I was looking forward to battling the waves and was disappointed by this move although I appreciate the organizers concern for safety. Visibility was zero and I had the sun in my face all the way to the first turn making it difficult to sight and also causing me to swim slightly off course. Towards the end there was an acute smell of diesel in the air from the surrounding boats, add to that a general feeling of unease during the entire swim and it was not a pleasant experience. Time 0:30.
In Hawaii the bike starts with a section through town before the real action starts on the Queen K. I powered along the first 60 km without holding back. As a result, I was passing riders as I normally do in Ironman events and gradually working my way up the field. This was in retrospect a big mistake. As soon as we hit the climb to Hawi and the subsequent head and cross winds my legs where toast. All the distance I had made up on the first part was lost. On the final 10km stretch to the turnaround the serious head wind started and I could only manage a pitiful 25 km/h. After Hawi (the turnaround) my legs slowly returned with some initial speeding around 65 km/h towards the Queen K. Back on the Queen K, however, we were hit by another massive head wind. I have seldom had to dig as deep as I did during the last 2 hours. Bike split 5:19, much slower than I had expected.
The bike course in Clearwater is flat, fast and furious. My strategy in Clearwater was to ride the bike section like I would ride an Olympic distance event. After having ridden for about 50 km it became clear the organizers were not marshalling the course properly and allowing big groups of riders to form. At one stage I had to slow because I could not pass a large group of riders in a pack. Shouting at them for 20 seconds finally got them to let me through (barely). One of the pack riders even had to the audacity to scold me for shouting at him. F%$¤ idiot. Anyways, although I was careful not to draft, some drafting was simply unavoidable. The narrow stretches with cars passing on the right also contributed to a drafting effect and towards the end I must admit that I was not as careful as I normally would be simply because it was obvious the organizers had lost control. My final time was 2:08 with an average speed of more than 42 km/h (see here for more details, bike is short b/c I pressed the start button late).
The run in Hawaii was fairly uneventful affair. With my injured foot I did a combination of walking and running. A few days prior to the race I had tested my foot on Alii Drive and knew there was no way it could run the full marathon. My walk/run strategy actually worked remarkably well. Only after the first 10 km did my foot start to give me any trouble. By the end no matter what I did it was painful, but there was no way I was going to DNF. Reaching the final turn onto Alii Drive a mere 400 m from finish line the pain vanished. Finishing in Kona is unique. The crowds and surroundings are great, but there is simply something mythical and indefinable about the final few minutes and the realization that you have just retraced the steps of the many triathlon greats. You will know when you try for yourself. My final time: 10:54. I’ve gone faster, but I’m not disappointed, not at all. Getting to Hawaii is an accomplishment. Finishing the race is an experience for a lifetime.
Jumping off the bike in Clearwater my legs were trashed and I wasn’t sure I could run at all. However, by taking it easy in transition I gained my composure and started the run feeling fairly good. After initially trying to push the pace (i.e. close to 4 min per km) I had to slow down in part due to an upset stomach and in part lack of energy. Luckily some deep breathing solved my stomach issues but I couldn’t hold the pace and settled into a more comfortable pace around 4:30 min per km. The worst part of the run course was negotiating the incline on the bridge crossing. I had no spring in my legs to help me across. My final time: 4:19. A PB.
This weekend the triathlon season ends with the annual Olympic distance triathlon event here in Cayman. Bring on the off season!
Showing posts with label Kona. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kona. Show all posts
Friday, November 27, 2009
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Race Report IMKY 2009
Prerace
We arrive in Louisville on Thursday past midnight. Fellow Cayman triathlete Rebecca Lillywhite (Beccy) has booked accommodation at the Galt House Hotel. Staying at the Galt has its advantages. It houses the expo, athlete check-in and is within walking distance of swim start and transition.
Friday morning we make our way to the designated practice swim area. The swim course is in the Ohio River, supposedly a polluted river with strong currents. My first impression of the river is actually pretty good. I guess it helps when expectations are low. The water isn’t visibly dirty, but visibility is zero. This basically means that we will be swimming blind. The current is fairly strong but easily manageable and water temperatures are pleasant. Although I have brought my wetsuit to Louisville with rumours of colder water temps, there is no way we will be swimming in wetsuits on race day.
After a successful dip in the river we head back to the Galt. Breakfast buffet is on the second floor. We meet up with Beccy’s friends from BVI: Ian and Ashling. Ian is racing. I stuff myself with all the breakfast goodies. Registration is next. It takes nearly two hours. My weight is measured at 145 lbs (65.8 kg) and body fat is 7%.
In the evening there is a Pre-race dinner at a convention center nearby. A massive room has been converted into a dining area. A large scene is placed at one end with a screen running commercials. After dinner the race briefing commences. But no race briefing can commence before the national anthem with appointed soloist and a prayer. It is way over the top, but typical American and I love it. I don’t know what it is about the Star-Spangled Banner, but it never disappoints, maybe it is because it's set to the tune of an English drinking song.
Saturday we check in the bikes and transition bags and go for light pre-race pasta meal before heading back to the hotel for an early night.
Race day
The alarm clock is set for 4 am. Coffee, oatmeal and two small bottles of Ensure, approx. 1,200 calories. At 4:45 am we are on our way to transition at the Great Lawn. Bikes are loaded and wheels receive a top-up of air and we’re off to the swim start at Tumbleweed about 1 mile away. We queue for body marking at the swim start. There are plenty of body markers on hand so we are soon able to follow the herd of athletes making their way to the end of the line for the time trial start.
Most Ironman events are mass starts. Louisville is different. Athletes self-seed themselves at the start based on their arrival at the swim start. A mass swim start for the pros is scheduled for 6:50 am followed by a 7:00 am time-trial start for the rest of us.
The line seems to snake forever along the river bank. How did all these people manage to get here so early? We didn’t leave it till last minute. Waiting in line is cold and I feel a bit miserable. There is still an hour till the start. Worse still, the anticipation of the race and low temps triggers a bladder filling reaction and I have to relieve myself on several occasions. Starting the race in a slightly dehydrated state is not ideal.
Finally we hear the gun and the pros are off. I spot the pros through the trees making good progress along the river bank. 10 minutes later the age groupers start entering the water one by one. The line is moving quickly so they must be getting the athletes into the water at a very fast rate. As the line works its way forward and we approach the start the volunteers are prepping us for the entry. Final “good lucks” pass between Beccy, Ian and I and we cross the timing mat and jump into the water.
The first 200m I am zigzagging between swimmers, but soon find some clear water. I had anticipated swimming along either left or right side of the bank, but surprisingly find plenty of room in the middle. I am kicked a few times, but this is really nothing compared what I have tried in the past. I reach the turnaround point feeling okay but not great. I know from training that it sometimes can take 1-2 km before I feel comfortable and can start cruising. Especially without any warm-up and a cold hours wait I don’t expect my body to be in full race mode yet. We are now outside the sheltered area and in the main river. I can see the bridges in the distance. The swim exit is just passed those bridges. I try to sight a good line, but the course is now so wide that athletes are spread and congestion is less of an issue. However, it seems to me a wide right is a good option. After a couple of minutes I settle into a nice grinding rhythm. The pace is a comfortable hard and I do a combination of two, three, four and occasional five stroke breathing. I feel strong all the way to the exit.
Swim Time 1h02m18s
Overall 117th
Age Group 14th
T1
As I exit the water I feel great. I can’t believe it, maybe I should have pushed harder? I sprint up the hill to transition passing several athletes in the process. It must be those monster swimming efforts with a maxed out heart rate at the Stroke and Stride that are now paying dividends. I look for the race clock to give me an idea of my swim time. No clock in sight. I find my bike bag after a bit of stuffing around and head into the change tent. Speed suit off, helmet, sun glasses, bike shorts and race belt on and I’m off running again with Garmin and bag in hand. I drop of the bike bag (which now contains goggles, swim cap and speed suit) outside the tent. Locating the bike is easy. By now I have put on the Garmin and turned it on. I head out of the bike park crossing the timing mat to register my time.
Time 3m53s.
Bike
I jump onto the saddle, gather some momentum and slip my feet into the bike shoes. About 2 minutes into the ride I hit a bump and one of my Power Bars fall out of my bento box. Damn it, that was 240 calories. Oh well, will just have to grab something from one of the aid stations. I make sure to drink plenty of water straight away to make up for the dehydrating start. My Garmin is still trying to find the satellites. How long can this take? I have no idea how fast I am going. I don’t want to push the pace too much to start with. Finally, it comes online. Yikes, 41 km/h that is much faster than I want to go. I regulate speed and perceived effort and finally settle into a good rhythm.
After about 15 km the hills begin. The temperature is still quite low and I’m not sweating as much as I am used to. My nose is also a bit runny from the cooler weather. I reckon I might be able to skip water at a few aid stations.
The course contains an out and back section and two counter clockwise loops before we head back into town.
The out and back section is very picturesque and contains some fairly steep but short climbs. These are not mountains, but they are steep enough to get you out of the saddle for a while. There is a bridge crossing across a creek at the bottom of a hill that is marked for danger, but it doesn’t give rise to any trouble even though travelling at 65 km/h.
Finishing the out and back, I embark on the first of the two loops. The roads are good, the terrain is still rolling and the temperature is still nice and cool. The rolling terrain is making me shift gears constantly. By the end of this ride I will probably have shifted gears more than I would in a year in Cayman. Until now I have been passing riders constantly since the start, so I am surprised when a rider overtakes me. Fine, I’ll use him as a focus point to keep up my pace. I stay about 7 meters behind him to avoid a drafting penalty. This can be difficult at times with differing riding styles on the hills. I probably push too hard on the ascents and too little on the descents. But this is the way I like to ride. At La Grange the crowds are out. Lots of cheering, shouting and cow bells. Awesome. I lose contact with my riding “buddy” as he surges up a longer hill. While I could have stayed with him, I feel I’m riding at a good solid pace and there is no need to increase the perceived effort at this stage in the race.
At the start of the second loop I pass Beccy. She shouts words of encouragement. Thanks Beccy. This time around the course is seriously congested. I am constantly passing slower riders. I approach a rider on one of the downhill’s going suspiciously slow with one leg to the side. He is relieving himself. I swerve far left to avoid the stream of fluid.
Having completed the second loop it is time to head back to Louisville. I am alone again. I spot one rider in the distance that’s all. I look at my Garmin and try to calculate my final time. I know that I started the watch about 2km into the ride and assuming for simplicity an average speed of 40 km/h for those first 2 km gives 3 minutes to add to my Garmin’s time. Okay so I won’t be going sub 5 hours, but it will be close to 5h10m. I’ll take that as long as I can run!
Unfortunately my stomach feels tight. Not a good sign. Should I eat? My nutrition plan calls for a Power Bar, but I haven’t any left since I dropped a bar at the beginning. The bike ride has set its mark and I’m feeling tired. I decide on some calories despite the tight stomach. At the final aid station I grab a gel. It’s café latte taste, definitely not my favorite, but nothing I can do about it.
I make the final turns towards the bike park, get my feet out of my shoes and start thinking about the run. I dismount and hit the ground running. Now we’ll find out whether the stomach is agreeable or not.
Time 5h09m22s
Overall 50th
Age Group 9th
T2
I hand off the bike and start running towards the transition area. I grab my run bag and continue into the changing tent. A volunteer runs with me. My helmet is already off so I proceed to take off my bike shorts. The volunteer asks what I want from the bag. I tell him to empty the contents in front of me. I put on cap, socks and shoes and dump the rest on the ground. The volunteer says he’ll take care of the bag for me. I thank him and head out of the tent. I can feel the stomach acting up so I decide to visit a portaloo. If that can solve the problem it would be well worth the extra time. After about a minute I emerge feeling none the better. Damn. Will just have to get on with that marathon.
Time 4m08s
Run
First part of the run is an out and back on the bridge. My stomach is in turmoil and I’m running much slower than I want to. I am being passed by several athletes. This is so annoying. You can swim and bike to your very best, but if you can’t pull off a decent run your overall time will suffer. I have to do something to calm the stomach. A guy named Charles runs up beside me and we exchange a few words. He is easing into the run and happy to go at a slower pace. We start the first loop. I try some deep breathing. It’s helping!! After about 500m I feel great. As Charles drops something and stops I speed up. This is it, crunch time. I decide to take full advantage of the fact that I feel good. My pace increases to sub seven minute miles or close to 3 hr marathon pace. I start passing the athletes that overtook me earlier. This is such a high.
After about 3 km I settle on a more reasonable pace. The initial surge was very well, but I risk burning out at that pace. A guyed named Evan comes flying past me. Wow, he is killing it. Post-race I look him up and he did a 2h55m marathon. Amazing. I can see the pros coming in the other direction finishing their first loop. I guess it won’t be long before race leader Luke McKenzie passes me.
We are running through a residential area and the locals are out, blasting out music and cheering us on. It is pretty flat. Feed stations are about every mile and I’ve been taking on water and coke. I figure the coke will help settle my stomach. I also grab a few cold sponges which I place inside my tri suit in the chest area. Ice is somewhat sparse at the aid stations. When I do manage to grab some ice I toss it down my tri suit where it settles in my crotch area. From experience I know this is one of the best places for cooling the body as some major blood veins pass in that region. So far I have been running through each aid station slowing only a little. Walking aid stations will kill my running splits so I purposely try to keep running.
I finally reach the turnaround. I see race leader Luke McKenzie. It won’t be long before he passes me. I pass the half way mark in around 1h39m (I later find out the split was 1h38m28s). I’ll take that. It is actually faster than my half marathon at Florida 70.3 earlier in the year. If I can just keep a reasonable pace I should be able to go under 3h30m. With a good swim that means I am easily heading for a sub 10 hr finish. Excellent.
A cyclist pulls up beside me bearing the marker “1st Male” and Luke is right behind. As he overtakes me I shout some words of encouragement. Within a couple of minutes the second placed male pro Viktor Zyemtsev comes storming past and I mean storming. I can’t believe how fast this guy is running. Unbelievable. He’ll catch Luke in no time. Post race I read that Zyemtsev was surging at this point in the race to catch Luke.
I am nearly in town again. There are lots people and lots of noise. I turn right less than 200m from the finish line and head out on the second loop. Now it’s a case of holding on. Mentally it is tough, but I am determined. I run with a guy on his first loop. We’re running 8 min mile pace (5 min per km). I lose contact with him when I decide to walk an aid station (my first). However, I quickly catch up with him again. Slowly mile after mile are ticked off. I’m still managing at least 8 min mile pace, but walk the aid stations to ensure sufficient calorie intake. Don’t want to risk running into a serious bonk.
I pass the 25 mile marker. It is really starting to hurt. My stomach and quads are tight. To compensate, I lean into the run. I must look ridiculous, but who cares getting to the line as fast as possible is the prime objective. I can get through this, less than 10 minutes to go. As I reach the home straight the noise is deafening, I try to straighten my back and run strong, but it is impossible. I normally always have something left at the end, but not this time. The race clock reads 10h12m so I’m sure my own time is under 10 hours. My body gives in as I cross the finish line and a volunteer grabs me.
Time 3h28m25s
Overall 95th
Age Group 10th
Total Race Time 9h48m06s
Overall 46th
Age Group 5th
Post Race
A volunteer takes me to the medical tent in a wheelchair. The medics check my vital signs and ask several questions. I try to drink some Sprite but can’t seem to stomach it. After lying down for another 10 minutes they offer me an IV. After a liter of fluid I feel much better. They check my vitals again and sit me up. Pro athlete Peter Kotland is sitting next to me. He has also had an IV. Incredibly he is doing another ironman in two weeks time!
I head back to the hotel to check my time. Facebook comes up per default and I can see Marius has already commented on my time. 9h49m (corrections where later made so I ended on 9h48m). How good is that? With that time I would easily have qualified for Kona last year. I check the official website, fifth in my age group. My hands are shaking. Last year there were 8 slots in my age group, if there are the same this year I will have qualified directly, no rolldown needed. There is supposed to be a listing of the slot allocations somewhere, but I have no idea where and I am too drained to go looking now. I call Majken in Denmark. It feels so good to talk to someone about the experience. She and her dad had following me closely on-line all day and she is full of praise and excitement. Have I really done the impossible? Surely I have, but I don’t want to get my hopes up. I will wait till the morning to find out.
After a shower and a few biscuits I head down to transition to pick-up my bike. Once back in the hotel room I check Beccy’s time. She is about half way on the run. I wait another 45 minutes and then make my way slowly to the finish line. I meet the BVI gang. Ray has just finished and Ian a bit before him. They continue on to the post race area for some drink and food. I find a look-out spot about 50m from the finish line. I take a look at the race clock and estimate that Beccy is at least 30 minutes from finishing. Plenty of time to grab some food and drink. As I‘m finishing a coffee, bagel and strawberry banana milkshake concerto, Beccy approaches the finish line in strong stride. She looks remarkably fresh. Her major concern is her time because the race clock shows 15 hours something. I confirm that she has gone under 15 as we have to deduct 24 minutes to reflect our later start time. Well done Beccy.
The next day I head down to the slot allocation area. Standing in line with the other hopeful athletes makes me nervous. Finally it is my turn. I approach the table and indicate name and age group. I see a list of names. I’m above the cut-off line. I’ve fricken qualified!! It’s a near impossible dream come true. I’m so happy. All the hard work and sacrifice has paid off. A three year plan has been executed to perfection. In fact it only took 2 years.
We arrive in Louisville on Thursday past midnight. Fellow Cayman triathlete Rebecca Lillywhite (Beccy) has booked accommodation at the Galt House Hotel. Staying at the Galt has its advantages. It houses the expo, athlete check-in and is within walking distance of swim start and transition.
Friday morning we make our way to the designated practice swim area. The swim course is in the Ohio River, supposedly a polluted river with strong currents. My first impression of the river is actually pretty good. I guess it helps when expectations are low. The water isn’t visibly dirty, but visibility is zero. This basically means that we will be swimming blind. The current is fairly strong but easily manageable and water temperatures are pleasant. Although I have brought my wetsuit to Louisville with rumours of colder water temps, there is no way we will be swimming in wetsuits on race day.
After a successful dip in the river we head back to the Galt. Breakfast buffet is on the second floor. We meet up with Beccy’s friends from BVI: Ian and Ashling. Ian is racing. I stuff myself with all the breakfast goodies. Registration is next. It takes nearly two hours. My weight is measured at 145 lbs (65.8 kg) and body fat is 7%.
In the evening there is a Pre-race dinner at a convention center nearby. A massive room has been converted into a dining area. A large scene is placed at one end with a screen running commercials. After dinner the race briefing commences. But no race briefing can commence before the national anthem with appointed soloist and a prayer. It is way over the top, but typical American and I love it. I don’t know what it is about the Star-Spangled Banner, but it never disappoints, maybe it is because it's set to the tune of an English drinking song.
Saturday we check in the bikes and transition bags and go for light pre-race pasta meal before heading back to the hotel for an early night.
Race day
The alarm clock is set for 4 am. Coffee, oatmeal and two small bottles of Ensure, approx. 1,200 calories. At 4:45 am we are on our way to transition at the Great Lawn. Bikes are loaded and wheels receive a top-up of air and we’re off to the swim start at Tumbleweed about 1 mile away. We queue for body marking at the swim start. There are plenty of body markers on hand so we are soon able to follow the herd of athletes making their way to the end of the line for the time trial start.
Most Ironman events are mass starts. Louisville is different. Athletes self-seed themselves at the start based on their arrival at the swim start. A mass swim start for the pros is scheduled for 6:50 am followed by a 7:00 am time-trial start for the rest of us.
The line seems to snake forever along the river bank. How did all these people manage to get here so early? We didn’t leave it till last minute. Waiting in line is cold and I feel a bit miserable. There is still an hour till the start. Worse still, the anticipation of the race and low temps triggers a bladder filling reaction and I have to relieve myself on several occasions. Starting the race in a slightly dehydrated state is not ideal.
Finally we hear the gun and the pros are off. I spot the pros through the trees making good progress along the river bank. 10 minutes later the age groupers start entering the water one by one. The line is moving quickly so they must be getting the athletes into the water at a very fast rate. As the line works its way forward and we approach the start the volunteers are prepping us for the entry. Final “good lucks” pass between Beccy, Ian and I and we cross the timing mat and jump into the water.
The first 200m I am zigzagging between swimmers, but soon find some clear water. I had anticipated swimming along either left or right side of the bank, but surprisingly find plenty of room in the middle. I am kicked a few times, but this is really nothing compared what I have tried in the past. I reach the turnaround point feeling okay but not great. I know from training that it sometimes can take 1-2 km before I feel comfortable and can start cruising. Especially without any warm-up and a cold hours wait I don’t expect my body to be in full race mode yet. We are now outside the sheltered area and in the main river. I can see the bridges in the distance. The swim exit is just passed those bridges. I try to sight a good line, but the course is now so wide that athletes are spread and congestion is less of an issue. However, it seems to me a wide right is a good option. After a couple of minutes I settle into a nice grinding rhythm. The pace is a comfortable hard and I do a combination of two, three, four and occasional five stroke breathing. I feel strong all the way to the exit.
Swim Time 1h02m18s
Overall 117th
Age Group 14th
T1
As I exit the water I feel great. I can’t believe it, maybe I should have pushed harder? I sprint up the hill to transition passing several athletes in the process. It must be those monster swimming efforts with a maxed out heart rate at the Stroke and Stride that are now paying dividends. I look for the race clock to give me an idea of my swim time. No clock in sight. I find my bike bag after a bit of stuffing around and head into the change tent. Speed suit off, helmet, sun glasses, bike shorts and race belt on and I’m off running again with Garmin and bag in hand. I drop of the bike bag (which now contains goggles, swim cap and speed suit) outside the tent. Locating the bike is easy. By now I have put on the Garmin and turned it on. I head out of the bike park crossing the timing mat to register my time.
Time 3m53s.
Bike
I jump onto the saddle, gather some momentum and slip my feet into the bike shoes. About 2 minutes into the ride I hit a bump and one of my Power Bars fall out of my bento box. Damn it, that was 240 calories. Oh well, will just have to grab something from one of the aid stations. I make sure to drink plenty of water straight away to make up for the dehydrating start. My Garmin is still trying to find the satellites. How long can this take? I have no idea how fast I am going. I don’t want to push the pace too much to start with. Finally, it comes online. Yikes, 41 km/h that is much faster than I want to go. I regulate speed and perceived effort and finally settle into a good rhythm.
After about 15 km the hills begin. The temperature is still quite low and I’m not sweating as much as I am used to. My nose is also a bit runny from the cooler weather. I reckon I might be able to skip water at a few aid stations.
The course contains an out and back section and two counter clockwise loops before we head back into town.
The out and back section is very picturesque and contains some fairly steep but short climbs. These are not mountains, but they are steep enough to get you out of the saddle for a while. There is a bridge crossing across a creek at the bottom of a hill that is marked for danger, but it doesn’t give rise to any trouble even though travelling at 65 km/h.
Finishing the out and back, I embark on the first of the two loops. The roads are good, the terrain is still rolling and the temperature is still nice and cool. The rolling terrain is making me shift gears constantly. By the end of this ride I will probably have shifted gears more than I would in a year in Cayman. Until now I have been passing riders constantly since the start, so I am surprised when a rider overtakes me. Fine, I’ll use him as a focus point to keep up my pace. I stay about 7 meters behind him to avoid a drafting penalty. This can be difficult at times with differing riding styles on the hills. I probably push too hard on the ascents and too little on the descents. But this is the way I like to ride. At La Grange the crowds are out. Lots of cheering, shouting and cow bells. Awesome. I lose contact with my riding “buddy” as he surges up a longer hill. While I could have stayed with him, I feel I’m riding at a good solid pace and there is no need to increase the perceived effort at this stage in the race.
At the start of the second loop I pass Beccy. She shouts words of encouragement. Thanks Beccy. This time around the course is seriously congested. I am constantly passing slower riders. I approach a rider on one of the downhill’s going suspiciously slow with one leg to the side. He is relieving himself. I swerve far left to avoid the stream of fluid.
Having completed the second loop it is time to head back to Louisville. I am alone again. I spot one rider in the distance that’s all. I look at my Garmin and try to calculate my final time. I know that I started the watch about 2km into the ride and assuming for simplicity an average speed of 40 km/h for those first 2 km gives 3 minutes to add to my Garmin’s time. Okay so I won’t be going sub 5 hours, but it will be close to 5h10m. I’ll take that as long as I can run!
Unfortunately my stomach feels tight. Not a good sign. Should I eat? My nutrition plan calls for a Power Bar, but I haven’t any left since I dropped a bar at the beginning. The bike ride has set its mark and I’m feeling tired. I decide on some calories despite the tight stomach. At the final aid station I grab a gel. It’s café latte taste, definitely not my favorite, but nothing I can do about it.
I make the final turns towards the bike park, get my feet out of my shoes and start thinking about the run. I dismount and hit the ground running. Now we’ll find out whether the stomach is agreeable or not.
Time 5h09m22s
Overall 50th
Age Group 9th
T2
I hand off the bike and start running towards the transition area. I grab my run bag and continue into the changing tent. A volunteer runs with me. My helmet is already off so I proceed to take off my bike shorts. The volunteer asks what I want from the bag. I tell him to empty the contents in front of me. I put on cap, socks and shoes and dump the rest on the ground. The volunteer says he’ll take care of the bag for me. I thank him and head out of the tent. I can feel the stomach acting up so I decide to visit a portaloo. If that can solve the problem it would be well worth the extra time. After about a minute I emerge feeling none the better. Damn. Will just have to get on with that marathon.
Time 4m08s
Run
First part of the run is an out and back on the bridge. My stomach is in turmoil and I’m running much slower than I want to. I am being passed by several athletes. This is so annoying. You can swim and bike to your very best, but if you can’t pull off a decent run your overall time will suffer. I have to do something to calm the stomach. A guy named Charles runs up beside me and we exchange a few words. He is easing into the run and happy to go at a slower pace. We start the first loop. I try some deep breathing. It’s helping!! After about 500m I feel great. As Charles drops something and stops I speed up. This is it, crunch time. I decide to take full advantage of the fact that I feel good. My pace increases to sub seven minute miles or close to 3 hr marathon pace. I start passing the athletes that overtook me earlier. This is such a high.
After about 3 km I settle on a more reasonable pace. The initial surge was very well, but I risk burning out at that pace. A guyed named Evan comes flying past me. Wow, he is killing it. Post-race I look him up and he did a 2h55m marathon. Amazing. I can see the pros coming in the other direction finishing their first loop. I guess it won’t be long before race leader Luke McKenzie passes me.
We are running through a residential area and the locals are out, blasting out music and cheering us on. It is pretty flat. Feed stations are about every mile and I’ve been taking on water and coke. I figure the coke will help settle my stomach. I also grab a few cold sponges which I place inside my tri suit in the chest area. Ice is somewhat sparse at the aid stations. When I do manage to grab some ice I toss it down my tri suit where it settles in my crotch area. From experience I know this is one of the best places for cooling the body as some major blood veins pass in that region. So far I have been running through each aid station slowing only a little. Walking aid stations will kill my running splits so I purposely try to keep running.
I finally reach the turnaround. I see race leader Luke McKenzie. It won’t be long before he passes me. I pass the half way mark in around 1h39m (I later find out the split was 1h38m28s). I’ll take that. It is actually faster than my half marathon at Florida 70.3 earlier in the year. If I can just keep a reasonable pace I should be able to go under 3h30m. With a good swim that means I am easily heading for a sub 10 hr finish. Excellent.
A cyclist pulls up beside me bearing the marker “1st Male” and Luke is right behind. As he overtakes me I shout some words of encouragement. Within a couple of minutes the second placed male pro Viktor Zyemtsev comes storming past and I mean storming. I can’t believe how fast this guy is running. Unbelievable. He’ll catch Luke in no time. Post race I read that Zyemtsev was surging at this point in the race to catch Luke.
I am nearly in town again. There are lots people and lots of noise. I turn right less than 200m from the finish line and head out on the second loop. Now it’s a case of holding on. Mentally it is tough, but I am determined. I run with a guy on his first loop. We’re running 8 min mile pace (5 min per km). I lose contact with him when I decide to walk an aid station (my first). However, I quickly catch up with him again. Slowly mile after mile are ticked off. I’m still managing at least 8 min mile pace, but walk the aid stations to ensure sufficient calorie intake. Don’t want to risk running into a serious bonk.
I pass the 25 mile marker. It is really starting to hurt. My stomach and quads are tight. To compensate, I lean into the run. I must look ridiculous, but who cares getting to the line as fast as possible is the prime objective. I can get through this, less than 10 minutes to go. As I reach the home straight the noise is deafening, I try to straighten my back and run strong, but it is impossible. I normally always have something left at the end, but not this time. The race clock reads 10h12m so I’m sure my own time is under 10 hours. My body gives in as I cross the finish line and a volunteer grabs me.
Time 3h28m25s
Overall 95th
Age Group 10th
Total Race Time 9h48m06s
Overall 46th
Age Group 5th
Post Race
A volunteer takes me to the medical tent in a wheelchair. The medics check my vital signs and ask several questions. I try to drink some Sprite but can’t seem to stomach it. After lying down for another 10 minutes they offer me an IV. After a liter of fluid I feel much better. They check my vitals again and sit me up. Pro athlete Peter Kotland is sitting next to me. He has also had an IV. Incredibly he is doing another ironman in two weeks time!
I head back to the hotel to check my time. Facebook comes up per default and I can see Marius has already commented on my time. 9h49m (corrections where later made so I ended on 9h48m). How good is that? With that time I would easily have qualified for Kona last year. I check the official website, fifth in my age group. My hands are shaking. Last year there were 8 slots in my age group, if there are the same this year I will have qualified directly, no rolldown needed. There is supposed to be a listing of the slot allocations somewhere, but I have no idea where and I am too drained to go looking now. I call Majken in Denmark. It feels so good to talk to someone about the experience. She and her dad had following me closely on-line all day and she is full of praise and excitement. Have I really done the impossible? Surely I have, but I don’t want to get my hopes up. I will wait till the morning to find out.
After a shower and a few biscuits I head down to transition to pick-up my bike. Once back in the hotel room I check Beccy’s time. She is about half way on the run. I wait another 45 minutes and then make my way slowly to the finish line. I meet the BVI gang. Ray has just finished and Ian a bit before him. They continue on to the post race area for some drink and food. I find a look-out spot about 50m from the finish line. I take a look at the race clock and estimate that Beccy is at least 30 minutes from finishing. Plenty of time to grab some food and drink. As I‘m finishing a coffee, bagel and strawberry banana milkshake concerto, Beccy approaches the finish line in strong stride. She looks remarkably fresh. Her major concern is her time because the race clock shows 15 hours something. I confirm that she has gone under 15 as we have to deduct 24 minutes to reflect our later start time. Well done Beccy.
The next day I head down to the slot allocation area. Standing in line with the other hopeful athletes makes me nervous. Finally it is my turn. I approach the table and indicate name and age group. I see a list of names. I’m above the cut-off line. I’ve fricken qualified!! It’s a near impossible dream come true. I’m so happy. All the hard work and sacrifice has paid off. A three year plan has been executed to perfection. In fact it only took 2 years.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Ironman Triathlon World Championships
Lately, I have been giving some thought to triathlon training and my goals. One event I am very keen on doing is the Ironman World Championships in Kona Hawaii. The race encompasses a 2.4 mile (3.86 km) ocean swim in Kailua-Kona Bay, followed by a 112 mile (180.2 km) bike ride in the Hawaiian lava desert and ending with a marathon (42.195 km) along the coast. The event is coming-up this weekend so keep your eye out for media coverage.Hawaii was host to the first Ironman Triathlon in 1978. If you have triathlon ambitions, Kona is definitely on the list of races you want to participate in. Entrance to Kona is on a qualification only basis. Here there are two main options, a lottery or to participate in a race that allocates slots to Kona.
Of course you could rely on pot luck, but since you want to complete the damn thing and do so in a reasonable time, you might as well try and estimate what the qualification requirements might be. This turns out to be a difficult task because of the way the system works. Luckily there are people out there like Neil Hammond who posted his analysis of qualification times on the internet. Now, Hammond's analysis is far from perfect, but it gives results that seem plausible to me. Indeed by using his analysis I cross-checked my initial thinking and came to more or less the same result.
Without making things too complicated these are the type of times I would need to qualify in the 35-39 age group (+/- 5%). 1:15 for the swim, 5:20 for the bike ride and 3:40 for the run. This adds up to 10:15, add to that 10 minutes in transition and my qualifying time is just under 10.5 hours. +/- 5% gives me a qualifying interval of roughly 10 - 11 hours. Is that possible? I certainly believe it is. Swimming 3.8 km in 1:15 should be fairly easy not least because it is in the beginning of the race. 180 km in 5:20 is just under 34 km/h. While my legs would not be able to cope with that currently, because I haven’t trained on the distance, that can be rectified with purposeful training. The part of the race that causes me most worry is the marathon. I am not sure how my legs or indeed body will react. I got a taste during the Brisbane marathon, but that was without more than 6 hours psychical exertion prior to start. However, as long as I can keep my legs running 3:40 should be possible.
Here are some stats from Kona for a comparison:
2006 WINNERS:
Normann Stadler - S 54:05, B 4:18:23, R 2:55:03, Total 8:11:56
Michellie Jones - S 54:29, B 5:06:09, R 3:13:08, Total 9:18:31
COURSE RECORDS:
1996 – Luc Van Lierde (BEL) 8:04:08
1992 – Paula Newby-Fraser (ZIM) 8:55:28
FASTEST COURSE TIMES:
Swim
1998 – Lars Jorgensen (USA) – 46:41
1999 – Jodi Jackson (USA) – 48:43
Bike
2006 – Normann Stadler (GER) – 4:18:23
1993 – Paula Newby-Fraser (ZIM) – 4:48:30
Run
1989 – Mark Allen (USA) – 2:40:04
1999 – Lori Bowden (CAN) – 2:59:16
I would of course not compete with the elite but in the age groups. The men’s division records are:
Age Record Name Age Year
18-24 8:55:02 Vassilis Krommidas 24 1994
25-29 8:41:02 Maximilian Longree 25 2006
30-34 8:45:59 Igor Kogoj 34 1993
35-39 8:47:02 Jim Beuselinck 39 2006
40-44 8:58:55 Bent Andersen 42 2006
45-49 9:11:56 Brian Keast 45 2005
50-54 9:26:23 Kevin Moats 51 2006
55-59 9:47:29 Reinhold Humbold 57 2005
60-64 10:40:49 Takahisa Mitsumori 62 2005
65-69 11:29:45 Milos Kostic 65 2006
70-74 12:59:02 Bob Scott 71 2001
75-79 13:27:50 Bob Scott 75 2005
80+ 16:21:55 Robert McKeague 80 2005
Robert McKeague is amazing. 80 years old and doing an Ironman. I wonder if Bob Scott will try to beat his record in 2010.
First things first though. Step one is to successfully complete the distance, if that can result in qualification to Kona that would be exceptional, but more likely a second attempt will be necessary. My timeframe is 3 years.
Anyway, you don’t get any faster writing blogs. Better to do some training instead! This video provides some good motivation.
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