Category: Ironman

I went into Ironman 70.3 Muncie with some lofty goals and hit one of them . . . but it was probably the reason I didn’t hit the most important one.  The start was delayed 15 minutes because of traffic, so I got in a nice warm up swim and was ready to go learn some lessons. Three to be exact.

My overall goal was to be under 5 hours and I felt pretty good considering the alarm went off at 4 am and the last time I was up at that hour was during an all-night Netflix marathon. The cooler temperatures and tons of rain turned it into a wetsuit race and the weather was nearly perfect.

THE SWIM 

The first thing I noticed was how different the buoy line was from the course map.  I wrote about tactics for the Muncie swim a few days earlier, and Ironman threw a wicked curve ball.

Instead of the traditional inverted triangle, the first leg was a bowed curve and the backstretch was a straight line.  My mind was frazzled as I thought of the dozens of Crushing Iron readers I had misled, but quickly came up with a plan to outsmart the Ironman-course-layers, but you never beat Ironman.

I had a decent swim (just over 36 minutes) but going in I thought I could be around 34:00.  I stayed with the buoys for the most part, but tried some “short-cut” strategy against that buoy-curve and think it ultimately cost me some distance.

After the race we were talking at our Bed and Breakfast and Joanne (who swam 33 minutes) said she followed the buoys the entire way and her Garmin read a nearly a perfect 2112 yards.

First lesson learned at Muncie:  Follow the buoys.

THE BIKE

Muncie was the first time I’d experienced my age group going off at the front.  There was one group ahead of us, but it was strange being in the first 50 people out of transition.

As we all knew, the course was fast and very tempting, but that’s also why I think it’s hard. No hills means you are churning the entire time with no real chances to give your legs a break and I wasn’t quite prepared.

I had a sub-5-hour overall goal, but was also trying to get top 5 in my age group.  I was 17th out of the water in my age group, so I knew that most of the people ahead of me were direct competition.  As I approached the first turnaround a lot of people were way ahead other way and I was in serious jeopardy of getting blown off the podium.

I didn’t “hammer” the bike, but I was just on the edge and pushing a little more than I would have liked.  No power meter or heart rate monitor, I just knew I was a tad out of my range.

I didn’t know how far off the front I was, but it turned out that my 21.5 mph average was only good for 20th in my age group!  I lost three slots on the bike, but I’ve realized that most of us older guys are better cyclists than runners, so I took a deep breath and hoped my extra run training would pay off.

2nd Lesson learned (remembered) at Muncie:  Don’t go even a hair out of your comfort zone on the bike.

THE RUN

The second I got off my bike, I knew I might have trouble.  I’ve never dealt with hamstring issues, but suddenly I could “feel” both of mine.  I didn’t have much bounce, but hoped a couple miles on the run would remind my legs that they have been running really well.

I was timing my pace by hitting restart at the mile markers and my first three were all under 8 minutes, which was likely too fast because my breathing was a little heavy.  I settled in around Mile 4 but by the time I reached the ever-elusive turn-around, my hamstrings felt weak.

I focused on short strides and a pace I knew I could keep.  At this point it was managing pain and simply not stopping.

When I looked at my pace for Mile 8, I was stunned to see a 9:30.  I mean, I knew I was losing a little steam, but that was a dramatic shift considering I was sub-8 through the halfway point.  I desperately tried to pick up the pace and Mile 9 was around 9:15.  I grabbed my first GU and washed it with water, then knocked out Mile 10 at 7:45.  I was back!

I couldn’t locate GU at the next aid station and Mile 11 fell back to around 9 minutes.  I squeezed in another packet and Mile 12 went back to sub 8.

It was a strange run that ended at 1:49 (8:20 pace).

I had raced Muncie before and commented on how the hills caught me off guard.  For some reason, I chose to ignore that wisdom and it bit me.  They aren’t huge, but they are constant.  Up and down, not much in terms of flat running.

3rd Lesson Learned (remembered) at Muncie:  Run a lot of hills and fuel earlier with something other than Gatorade.  

SUMMARY

I’m just not in good enough shape to be talking about podiums.  I think my speed is close, but all three of my events need more endurance training.

My goal for the bike was 21 mph and I really think that extra .5 mph threw off my run.  The run goal was 1:45 and came in at 1:49.  The time was more or less a trade off, but in the big picture, my efforts made the bike and run less enjoyable.  Not to mention took any possibility of a great run off the table.

But, you live and learn.  Despite what I would consider a disappointing run, I still moved up from 20th to 13 overall in my age group (out of 133).

My time of 5:06:21 was about 8 minutes off the podium and clearly points to one thing.  I still have to #do work.

[follow_me]

Two days ago I decided to delete Facebook and I’ve caught myself staring at the phone like something is missing.  The truth is, I’m finding something.  More time.

Not only that, I feel like I have just a hint more peace of mind.  Sure, it’s way too early in the experiment, but there has to be some value in clearing any kind of clutter in your life.

I could literally feel myself getting anxious, even angry at times, while scrolling through my Facebook feed.  All of these people doing so many “amazing” things like hanging out at hip places or having babies.  All stuff I haven’t been doing.

It’s not like I’m taking my new free time and changing the world, but I do feel like maybe, just maybe, this is a step in the direction of putting my eyes on what’s most important in my life.

Sometimes I hate when I do stuff like quit Facebook because it seems like, well . . . I’m a quitter.  “Why can’t you just look at it in the morning and once at night?”  I don’t fucking know!?  I just can’t.  It’s easier for me to just walk away from stuff that feels wrong.

It’s also easier for me to go after things that feel right, and at this moment, that is training.

Yesterday was a rest day for Muncie and it was weird.  It felt like I had way too much time.  Crazy how your body misses moving so much.

When you boil it down, movement is life and I think that’s why triathlon has become such a big part of my routine.  Doing crazy ass things like an Ironman is the ultimate form of meditation.  Being in the moment.  It’s just impossible to think about stupid shit like that dreaded meeting on Monday when your hip is falling off.

I love racing, but I’m starting to feel the same way about training.  It’s not a nuisance as much as it is a healthy every day challenge.  It’s not a means to an end . . . it is the end.  And hopefully this is the end of Facebook on my phone as well.

Twitter, however . . .

[follow_me]

I’m always fascinated by the swim portion of triathlons and Ironman 70.3 Muncie is no different.  It may seem like a typical lake swim, but it’s a little trickier than you may imagine because of the shape and the sighting.

The course is an inverted triangle and 2 years ago after the race I made these changes in red to show what seem to be the shortest routes to the first turn and the Swim Exit.  Below that I’ve added some photos taken from that race that show why it may not be that easy and/or the best plan.

The photo below gives a good look from the starting box.  You can see the line of yellow buoys all the way out to the first red turn which is way out by that sail boat mast.  The first yellow buoy is just beyond that blue kayak in the middle of the screen.  You can even see the second red turn buoy in the upper right hand corner.

This shot gives you a better look at the first buoy and the two yellow balls that create the far right edge of the starting box that seemingly guide you away from buoy one.

That said, when the group takes off, it appears many are taking a direct line to buoy number one.

It seems more logical to swim toward the third (second big yellow) buoy like the left half of this group, but sometimes you have to go where the scrum takes you.  That momentum is even clearer in this picture with about half of the group aiming right at it or just to the left.

Here’s a higher perspective that shows the line forms pretty cleanly right along the buoys just after takeoff.  There is actually a large chunk of this wave on the inside of the buoy line which may be good for left-side-breathers.

Unfortunately we don’t have pictures from back half of the swim, but I remember watching while I waited to start and the range was about 100 yards wide.  Some people swam straight to the Swim Exit, others hugged the buoy line on the way in as well, which isn’t a bad idea because sighting is pretty wicked because of the sun.  I mean, it is coming up right over the transition area and you are staring right into it.  There used to be a shed, but now I hear there is a nice new building that is a good sighting point.

I’m no expert at this stuff, but I have to believe the man-made-current of the waves has something to do with why people get so bunched up when there should be a ton of open water on the way out and back.  I’m sure most people simply sight off the people around them as well.

Here’s a shot of the carpeted ramp (which they continually sweep) out of the water.  It’s a slight climb to your bike, but I don’t recall it being too far.  Please let me know if you have any other thoughts on the Muncie swim.

[follow_me]

Saturday will be my second attempt at Ironman Muncie and with 6 days left, I thought I’d put the top 6 things in my mind on the page.  Make sure to follow the Crushing Iron Facebook group so you don’t miss any of these powerful updates.

1.  Patience – Muncie can’t seem to get here fast enough, but I need to chill and recover.  I’m not sure how others feel during race week, but I will periodically drift off and “be” in the race.  I can feel the sand on my toes and see the guys in my wave standing next to me before the gun.  I’m sure it helps on some level, but my goal for the week is to try and not think about it as much as possible.  Good luck with that.

2.  Early Wave – Most of my races to this point had me starting in a late wave.  Muncie has me going off first around 7:10.  This is not my comfort zone for two reasons:

– I’m not an early morning person for one.  I’m already sweating my pre-race sleep and just hope I’m fresh that morning.  I’ve been known to race on 3 hours sleep and that is not a good strategy.
– I will likely be getting passed more than passing and that is a different mindset.  I have to remember to let it peak my performance, but not distract me from my pace goals.

3.  Swim –  Many prescribe using the swim as the “warm up” for the race and I tend to fall into that category.  It’s important that I don’t go out too hard and lose my breath.  The heart-beat-trade-off affects your swim time much less than the bike and run, so I can’t get caught up in trying to crush the first 30-something minutes of the race.

4.  Bike –  This is a fast bike course, so I’m trying to mentally commit to starting under control, but not so slow that it will be hard to get my average pace up.  It’s a fine line on the bike and I don’t use a power meter, so I’ll be listening to my legs, but sometimes they lie and you have to wake them up.  I won’t ride much this week, but I will definitely be reminding my legs how it feels to go fast (in short doses).

5.  Run – Yesterday was my last longish run and I can honestly say this is the best I’ve felt about my run going into any triathlon.  The ONLY goal I have this week regarding the run is to make sure my legs, knees, and ankles are not sore.  I think they are trained up pretty good, so I’m ready to see what they have on race day.

6.  Rest – It’s incredible to me how a few days away from swimming, biking, or running make you think you have totally forgot how to do these things!  I seriously think I’ve completely lost it, only to “remember” once I start moving.  The goal is not to forget and not be a total lazy ass.

* I’m about 10 likes from 500 on the Crushing Iron Facebook page, so if you’re not one of them, it’d be cool if you helped get me over the hump.

[follow_me]

There’s always a lot of anxiety over races on the cusp of being wetsuit legal and IM 70.3 Muncie is no different.  It’s considered a bit of a tricky swim, so most people prefer the security of a wetsuit. I have been on the fence because I really don’t like wearing them, but in the name of sports science, I decided to do a comparison test this morning to see how it affected my time.

This was the setting.

Variables:
–  Lake was smooth
–  Water temp estimated to be around 77 degrees
–  Air temperature about 69 degrees
–  Partly cloudy
–  Test distance estimated to be a 350 yard loop (roughly 1/6 of a Half Ironman)
–  I warmed up for about 900 yards
–  Swimming effort – Moderate
–  Total sleep before test, about 3 hours.

The swim skin test was first and I swam the 350 yards in roughly 5:56.

I then changed into my wetsuit and swam the identical loop in 5:31.  A twenty five second difference and I felt like it took noticeably less effort.

That’s roughly 2:30 difference over the course of a Half Ironman with, in theory, less exertion.  But heart rate and core temperature are other issues that should probably be considered.

One of the reasons I wasn’t sure I’d wear a wetsuit, even if legal, was body core temperature.  The last time I wore my wetsuit was Challenge Knoxville where the water and air temp were much cooler but I felt like I was burning up in that swim.  We’ve written about this before concerning Ironman Chattanooga, but that proved to be a different animal with the current.

How accurate these test numbers are is debatable, but what was most interesting to me was comparing a wetsuit immediately after swimming without one.  Today, the buoyancy was obvious and definitely had an impact on my confidence.

I’m glad I did this test and will be fine with or without a wetsuit in Muncie, but if it’s legal, I will definitely be wearing one.

[follow_me]

Here’s another test by someone who did longer distances and compared multiple times.

And for those of you having trouble distinguishing between a tri suit and a wetsuit, active.com has you covered with this insightful piece.

A training buddy of mine suggested I try Tailwind for fuel on the bike.  He said it was formulated by ultra runners with a big focus on curbing stomach issues.  It has about 100 calories per scoop and a couple sips told me I kinda liked the taste.  So, I decided to go get some.

I like to support local business so I went to a Brentwood shoe store (that will remain nameless) and found my hidden treasure.  There, right inside the door, was an entire rack of Tailwind.

I settled into my catcher’s crouch and eyed the selections.  As I pulled one off the shelf, a nice middle aged woman asked if she could be of assistance.  I said sure, and asked her what she knew about the product.

That’s when it got weird.

“Oh, I haven’t used it but I hear it’s great!  My 10-year-old swears by it!”

Now, I sorta like kids, but rarely trust their opinions on Ironman nutrition and took a discreet step backwards.

“Your 10-year-old, huh?”

“Oh yeah, he loves to run.  He’s done up to 17 miles before.”

I was honestly trying to roll with the conversation, but this was not the type of endorsement I needed.  I told her I was thinking about using it on the bike as my main source of fuel for the whole race.

“Well, I don’t know much about biking, but my best friend’s kid plays a lot of soccer and he loves it!”

Okay, so now I’m having second thoughts.  Nothing against her’s or the best friend’s kid, but at that age I could fuel an entire 15 hour day of sports with a Snickers.

We stood at the counter and another woman joined us, so I patiently asked if they knew of any adults who used Tailwind?

Her helper friend jumped at the opportunity!

“Oh yes, Joe!  He’s 70 years old and used it for his first 100-mile race!”

“Really??” I asked, with scant hope.  “How’d he do??”

I am not kidding when I say she looked me right in the eye and said, “Well, I think he made it through 60 miles!”

There was an awkward pause before I feebly asked her to ring me up.

I honestly don’t understand people sometimes.  I’m pretty easy to work with on things like this, but this conversation was just baffling.  I suppose that’s what I get for moonlighting on my favorite running store.

Post script

I did buy Tailwind and I did use it on a couple rides.  I think I kind of like it enough (and promise to give it another shot after Muncie) but for some reason I couldn’t get the kid thing out of my mind and by the end it felt like I was licking a sucker for 2 hours.

Since that ride it’s been sitting safely, just out of reach of the neighbor kids, on a high shelf in the cupboard.  Maybe I’ll hand out scoops on Halloween.*

*  I give endurance fuel companies permission to use this idea as a marketing tactic.

Sometimes I get tired of formulating specific points about specific topics.  The internet is loaded with awful advice and that is probably the reason I have about 200 posts sitting in draft mode.  There’s nothing worse than a know-it-all, and I certainly don’t know shit.

The thing with me (and I’m sure it is with most aspiring triathletes) is that I love to think about this sport.  It’s so complex because of the mixed disciplines and nutrition and finding time/energy, etc. that it becomes a twisted metaphor for life that nobody can quite figure out. So, if you’re like me, you are on a continual search for simplicity.

How can all of this be simpler?  I’m not sure, but it is definitely a clutter-filled existence and one of the reasons I started painting the interior walls of my home white.  I’ve also given valiant effort at throwing out clothes I don’t wear, but the other day I found a huge box of old clothes in the garage and it became my new wardrobe.  The clutter that won’t go away!

For some reason racing triathlon is important to us . . . especially our first Ironman.  It’s something we think about daily, and sometimes hourly leading up to our race.  A pressure cooker that never leaves us alone.

And now, after two Ironman and three halves, I have that feeling again.  I am buzzing about Muncie.  Probably too much, but at least it’s something.

I feel like triathlon really does mimic life.  The possibilities are exciting, but when you realize how damn hard it can be, there are two choices:

1.  Tackle it head on and honestly do your best through preparation
2.  downplay the whole thing and treat it like it really doesn’t matter.

I think both serve a purpose.

The key element here is, “you realize how damn hard it can be.”  I mean, if I knew now what I did before I started all this stuff, I’m not sure I would would do it again.  I’m not sure the payoff has been worth it, but it’s tough to appreciate incremental growth.

One thing I’ve learned for sure is:  the harder you work at difficult things, the easier they become.  It doesn’t happen that day or the next, but eventually you just start doing it with a new sense of ease.

Running or cycling hills is a good example.  If you suck on hills, do them more.  Suck your ass off for days on end with genuine focus on using better form, relaxing, and believing you will be good on hills.

If you’re a bad swimmer (and want to be better) get into the water a lot.  Struggle, get winded, think about and use proper form even when it feels wrong.  Sooner or later, you will become a better swimmer.

But the truth is . . . this shit is not only hard, it’s addictive and lures you into deeper water.  One IRONMAN isn’t enough.  Your time is never fast enough.  The work doesn’t go away.

Muncie is all I can think about right now and I’ve been calculating my splits in endless formations.  If I do “this” in the swim I should be able to bike “this” but then my run might suffer.  On and on.

In the simplest terms, I think all of the obsession and determination is a good thing.  It makes life more interesting.  The problem comes after the race.  If we’re not racing for ourselves, it can be a big letdown.  We may think we failed, or worse, accomplished our goal, and lose sight of all the good things that have come from training.

It’s the training, not the race.  But in America, it always seems to come back to the prize.  How much shiny stuff or attention can we get.  I’m here to tell you, that is a fucked up way to live.

[follow_me]