Ironman Louisville vs. Wisconsin Bike Comparison
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It will take someone much smarter than me to figure it out what this comparative actually means, but I wanted to see it side by side. If you’ve done both courses, I’d love to hear your input (Racer K?).
Below, I have created a custom graphic from the Ironman Bike Course data and it appears to be a fair comparison considering roughly 400 feet of elevation range in both. I’m trying to decide what to make of this, but the one thing I really like is how Louisville ends. I handled Wisconsin pretty well until the last twenty five miles or so when it was deceptively uphill and into the wind. Louisville appears to be forgiving from mile 90 or so on.
Wisconsin looks to have longer and steeper climbs and descents while Louisville is more of a constant grind. I “got away with” not much time in aero at IMWI, but seems like it may be more prevalent in Louisville. Which, could actually be a good thing if I ever get comfortable.
It will likely be at least 10 degrees hotter in Louisville, so I’m preparing for that by wearing long sleeves and hats more often in training. I’m open to any other hot weather training tips.
I’m still a little miffed by the gain differential of 2,890 vs. 5,375, so if someone could explain that, awesome. I rode 6:04 at Wisconsin and based on the gain, it looks like I’m in for a battle at Louisville.
For a LOT more on IRONMAN WISCONSIN, check out this complete course breakdown on the Crushing Iron Podcast.
A Half Marathon on Skates
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Well, true to my word, I am taking rollerblading seriously. Tonight I rolled into the greenway, took a secret right turn, then headed for hell . . . or as we affectionately call it, the Energy Lab.
What happens to my body and mind on skates is truly amazing. Thirteen miles of muscles, neurons, and emotions firing on the right cylinders.
It also takes me back to a crazy little stretch during college.
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During a semester off from school I wound up driving Zamboni at my hometown hockey rink. Resurfacing ice may seem glamorous, but it’s a tricky art, especially with drunk parents booing you from the stands.
My nights were complete when I’d lock the door behind the last screaming kid. I was alone in an adult playground and would eagerly turn off all the lights, except those over the rink.
With the Zamboni safely parked in the garage, I’d lace my skates, then take my one-man-game to the ice. I wasn’t a great skater, but had no problem thinking I was Wayne Gretzky lifting a crafty wrist shot into the net while no one watched.
After three months I became a decent skater and as luck would have it, my first night back at college led me to a party hosted by the UW-Lacrosse hockey team. They were actually more of a “club” that lost a bunch of guys to graduation, leaving 6 openings on the squad. I bravely (and a bit stupidly) accepted their offer to come to practice.
Now, I could skate “ok” but this was Wisconsin, and club or not, it was not high school. Despite the fact I never played before, I was now on a college hockey team.
We practiced for two weeks before traveling north for my first game. River Falls was the defending Division 3 National Champion and about 75% of their roster was from Canada. I had no idea what I was in for.
On the positive side, I was on the fourth line, so it was highly unlikely I would play in this game. On the negative side, we didn’t have a team bus and one of the carloads was full of pot heads who got lost on the way to the game. Suddenly I was on the third line, with zero experience, and poised to face a bunch of Canadian savants.
So the game starts and I’m sitting on a hockey bench for the first time in my life. It was very exciting, but I knew nothing about the sport. I didn’t know the rules, and I certainly didn’t know anything about shift changes.
About 5 minutes into the game I’m leaning over the wall, slapping my stick against the boards, and watching in awe. That’s when one of my greatest sports flops took off in technicolor.
The second-line wing came skating toward the bench shouting, “Right wing, right wing!”
I was screaming back at him, “Yeah! Nice job man! Way to go! You rock!”
Then, with unbelievable aggression, he leaped over the short wall and landed on the floor next to me. I looked at him like “what the f*k are you doing?”
A teammate grabbed my jersey while screaming, “That’s you, Mike! Get out there!” Then he threw me over the boards.
The adrenaline shot to my heart, my head, then my legs as I scrambled to my feet. Big, huge, fast guys flying around me and I felt like a teddy bear in a tornado.
River Falls was already winning 2-0 and for good measure running the Russian Weave offense. Your favorite Zamboni driver was spinning like a top and couldn’t catch up with anything. I was supposed to be an offensive player, but wasn’t fast enough to get into the zone. I spent two minutes skating back and forth between the blue lines, which is the equivalent of not going down to play offense (or defense) in basketball.
I had no clue when I should go back to the bench. Just as I decided it was time, the puck flopped in my direction and a 6″4” 225 pound opponent coming right at me. Instead of simply skating around me, he reared back and unloaded a deafening slap shot that drilled me in the right shin.
I hobbled to the sidelines and considered sneaking to the locker room. I was a wounded soldier lying on the cold wooden floor. I was dazed, confused and swore . . . I could smell weed. Sure enough, I looked up to the most comforting of sights. The third line had found the rink.
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After seven more games, and numerous embarrassing moments, I was actually decent enough to get off a few shots and have loved skating ever since.
Tonight was filled with easy gliding mixed with intense mile intervals. What amazed me most was how fast skating at 5 minute pace seems and putting that in perspective with world class marathoners. It’s really kind of stupid.
I pushed it pretty hard for a few of the miles and couldn’t get below a 4:20 mile. I honestly can’t believe people run a mile faster. All told I skated about 13 miles in an hour and five minutes, and yes, people run that pace for a half.
Just out of curiosity, I looked up rollerblading vs. running and while running burns more calories, skating faster can definitely put you in the ballpark. This from Livestrong:
Calories Burned Rollerblading
Rollerblading for one hour at 10 miles per hour will burn about 528 calories for a 150-lb. person. Jogging for the same amount of time burns approximately 192 additional calories. Even though rollerbladers typically move faster than joggers, they’re gliding rather than jumping, making the exercise more efficient for the body, and thus burning fewer calories.
Rollerblading definitely gets a bad rap, like on this thread on bodybuilder.com, but I think it stems from that “no pain no gain” mantra that, frankly, I have outgrown. I have two major goals with my training right now:
1. Be holistically in tune with my body so I enhance all aspects of my life.
2. Train efficiently, and effectively so I can hit my expectations at Ironman Louisville
I am convinced rollerblading will play a large part in both. And, if it only helps me hit the first one, I’m cool with that, too.
Ironman Louisville Vs. Wisconsin
Ironman Wisconsin registration was very stressful, namely because there were 5 of us trying to get in, and by all accounts only had a two-hour-window. Frankly, it was a rush. Louisville has been open for a while, standing seductively in the corner, seducing me with her mini skirt and high heels. This one took several months, but I finally made my move.
The Louisville process was much different, but just as satisfying. I was pretty sure it wouldn’t sell out for a while, but you never know, and the first time I hit “register” I was rejected. This was evidently because I took too long, but it made my heart leap.
The reaction to my enrollment was supportive, but nothing like the first one. In fact, this is the response from a text message I sent to a friend back home.
I had to laugh and sent it out as a tweet. Ironman felt my pain and shared it with their followers.
I struggled with this decision for months. It never felt quite right, but some part of me craved Louisville. I’ve watched it twice and it was ultimately the reason I signed up for Wisconsin in the first place. I’ve seen many men and women buckle under the tough conditions and I had to be sure I was mentally ready for this fight.
A few things pulled it together for me and, at least for now, it seems like “10 Days of Rest” was the catalyst. More than anything, it “took away” my workouts and rekindled a love for the game.
That spark triggered a lot of different emotions and forced me slow down and reflect. I couldn’t just “hide” in a long run or the pool. I was naked with my thoughts and my body wanted to move. I just had to decide how far.
Wisconsin captivated my mind and body for 365 days. The mass swim start alone kept me up many a night. I grew up in Wisconsin, but Wisconsin took on a whole new meaning. It was a beast I wasn’t sure I could tame and was never quite sure until I crossed the finish line.
Louisville is more like a spiritual quest. Accepting the journey as balance and integrity for my soul. The virgin glow is gone and now I have to commit to love.
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Below are some statistical comparisons from each race. I spent a year focused on Wisconsin, now the energy will be directed at dissecting Louisville.
Both are ranked as two of the tougher Ironman courses on the circuit if you go by average finish time. Here is a graph from 2012 results (all info from www.runtri.com) that shows Louisville as the 3rd toughest and Wisconsin the 5th (excluding Kona).
Here are the breakouts from last year by average split time for the swim, bike, run and transitions. In my limited knowledge I feel like Wisconsin must be one of the more difficult swims, and certainly last year’s conditions made it slower than usual. But it’s wetsuit legal, while Louisville’s not, and that poses a different sort of problem.
The bike times were almost identical and I fully expect Louisville to be a tough ride. According to Ironman course maps, Louisville’s total gain is listed at 5,375 feet, while Wisconsin only shows 2,890, which sounds a little fishy, but who am I to argue? These Map My Ride profiles show Louisville’s gain at 1811 feet and Wisconsin at 3381.
Ironman has the Louisville run gain at 352 and Wisconsin at 482. I feel like Louisville is overestimated again and Wisconsin’s run is harder, except for one major factor, the heat. We had perfect weather in Madison last year, low 70’s with overcast skies. I fully expect Louisville to peak around 90. No matter how I slice these pies, it’s gonna be tough.
I was a little surprised to see that more people race at Louisville.
Whether you’re doing Ironman Wisconsin or Ironman Louisville, it’s a good idea to have your swim stroke in order. Check out our C26 Swim Stroke Analysis technology below. It’s easy, fast, and effective.
Don't Miss Your Opportunity
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It was a love story and I laid in bed letting the angelic voice sweep me away. The clock read 5:06 am, I was half asleep . . . in a dream I never wanted to end.
The year’s first ride on Natchez Trace loomed and my body tingled as the woman on the radio professed her love for climbing trees. She painted a beautiful scene in nature and guided me in and out of bliss as the birds chirped outside my bedroom window.
My god it was beautiful.
After a perfect morning of making love, she was hiking in an oak grove with her boyfriend when they came upon an “impeccable” tree. She instinctively climbed while listening to his rambling joke. Then the morning turned on a dime with the unmistakeable sound of a cracking branch.
For a transcendent moment, she floated in lucid clarity while inspecting leaves and the color of the bark. Then, she fell to the ground, or as she described it, “the planet shot up and hit me.”
Her boyfriend came to her side and the first thing she said was, “Where are my legs?”
He said, “They’re right here, honey,” as he moved her hand to touch her own skin. She described it as the softest smoothest sensation she could imagine.
Then she said, “What is this?”
The color drained from her boyfriend’s face. At that moment, they knew.
She was instantly paralyzed from the waist down.
I can’t do her words justice, but they are hauntingly beautiful and include the next time she saw her boyfriend from a hospital bed. You can read or listen to the 9 minute story here.
It was all I could think of on my drive to the Trace. I was going to ride 56 miles and this woman couldn’t get out of bed. Life can change in an instant.
It really makes you think about what kind of opportunities we miss because we don’t think we’re ready. The stuff you think about all the time, but are afraid to try because some illusion is holding you back.
Last night a friend posted this one minute clip of a commencement address given by Jim Carrey. It’s inspired by his late father and centered on taking chances and doing what you love.
For me this has many implications, especially since I’m in my seventh or eighth mid-life crises.
I’ve taken 10 Days of Rest and it has rejuvenated my spirit. I have re-discovered two of my deepest passions, mountain biking and inline skating (okay, rollerblading) and they have reignited my desire to move. There are fewer places I feel more alive than on a mountain bike in the woods. Two simple rides in the last week have genuinely given me new clarity in life. And that simple departure from running onto roller blades has touched my legs and body in an almost shocking way.
When I started running, triathlon came to the rescue as a form of cross training that felt better for my body. It rounded out the running that I loved, but hurt on so many levels. Then triathlon began to hurt in a similar way. Over and over with the same set of muscles. My aging frame wanted flexibility, fluidity, life. So I will cross train my triathlon with mountain biking, roller blading and maybe even climbing trees, because this is no time to be afraid.
On August 24th, I will stand in the darkness with 2,000 others on the banks of the Ohio River as we await the cannon for Ironman Louisville. Life is too short to ignore opportunity.
An "Easy" Half Ironman 70.3 Simulation
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This weekend, I fell off “the rest wagon” with a goal to do a simulated Half Ironman 70.3 over the course of the weekend. I hadn’t had more than a couple very short workouts since Rev3 on May 18th. Here’s how it all went down.
FRIDAY SWIM
Nashville was abuzz. Thousands of women poured onto the downtown streets wearing Daisy Dukes and cowboy boots for CMA Music Festival while I navigated the masses en route the YMCA. It was my first day on after 10 Days of Rest and anticipation was off the charts.*
After contemplating several swim workouts I settled on a basic 2,000 meters to ease back into the routine. Since starting Ironman training that kind of sentence always amazes and amuses me, “I think I’ll ease in with 2,000 meters in the pool.” There was a time not too long ago when I could barely swim down and back, now I confidently jumped in for forty.**
SATURDAY BIKE
It was a bitter sweet reunion with my lovely friend, Natchez Trace. It was our first rendezvous since last August, and only my third outside ride of the year. The previous two were races (New Orleans and Rev3 Knoxville).
Last year the Trace wore me down and I nearly hung my bike in the garage rafters for the rest of eternity. But I can honestly say I was excited to be out there. The Trace is a modern miracle for bikers. A beautifully smooth road cut into magnificent landscape and goes forever. There are so few cars on this highway that it almost feels like they are out of place. Natchez Trace is cycling paradise, but in a world where money is everything, it may all soon be over.
I was certainly rested, but the Trace is a physical and mental challenge. For some reason 6 am was too early for me, so I started at 6:30 and met the rest of the guys as they doubled back.
I eased back into my cycling with a 56 mile ride. It wasn’t easy, but compared to my early rides from last year, this was almost refreshing and I sucked it up with a post-ride lawn-mowing-brick.***
Here’s a little snippet from one of our Trace rides last summer that got the best of Racer K, including extremely rare footage of Wasky showing why he is a flat tire expert.
SUNDAY RUN-DAY
Sunday was meant to be two separate 50 minute runs (at least 6 hours apart) that would roughly complete my goal of a half Ironman distance in 3 days. It was hot and muggy as I set out on my run around 9:30. The first session was all about recovery from the ride and I kept the pace easy around 9 minute miles. By the end, I was struggling and I really don’t think I could have ran an entire 13.1 without a lot of Pop Tarts.
The afternoon flew by and I did my best to concoct an excuse not to run again. My heal hurt, I was a little fatigued, and my heart was in my bed. I nearly blew it off a dog-like distraction to the Home Depot.
That’s when I remembered something that changed my entire attitude. Rollerblading.
I grew up playing hockey, so I’ve always enjoyed skating. The thing is rollerblading gets a bad rap and I still feel like people are talking about me under their breath when I slide by on blades of glory.
It’s kind of one of those things like mountain biking where I just feel great while I’m moving. It’s more full body workout that engages your core and works far more muscles than running. And depending on how you roll, you can get the same level workout.
I put in about 10 miles on the wheels and included 4×800 yard “sprints” that crushed my glutes. I cruised back in after about an hour and had a renewed vigor for training.
LOUISVILLE UPDATE
We are all clamoring for a decision and I’m getting beat up on text messaging from my buddies for “embracing the lifestyle.”
“Just pull the trigger!”
“All this foreplay is useless!”
Ha… Well, the good news is, I’m feeling pretty damn good after this weekend. I was actually up this morning at 6am and ready for a leisurely mountain bike ride on flat trails, but it was pouring buckets. I opted for writing this piece, but may go for the ride later. Other than my heal I feel pretty strong and encouraged. Frankly, I’m not sure what I’m waiting for, but I have to make this decision on my terms, and may talk with a priest first, if I can find one.
* Well, my anticipation, and possibly that of my buddy Jeff Stokes who just swam Sharkfest.
** After some serious consideration, I’ve decided to start posting my workouts and feedback. You can find under the “workout” tab on top.
*** I have estimated mowing my back yard to be about 5,000 yards of walking with 80 feet of total gain.
Day 10 of "10 Days of Rest"
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This is supposed to be the dramatic conclusion of a daring experiment to take 10 Days of Rest during peak triathlon training. And as the days run out, I am once again sitting here naked to the world with nothing left to hide my fears.
For most of this recovery period, I was committed to leg strengthening and stretching, but on Day 10, I took my rest seriously. I came home after work, took a nap, ate, then settled into bed to read “The Art of Learning.”
At 11 o’clock, I set the book down, turned off the lights, and closed my eyes. But I couldn’t sleep.
I tossed and turned with a thousand thoughts, one being visualization of swim, bike and run in Louisville. I was floating through all three as a ghost, carried by the momentum of my spirit. It was a lot easier without all the pounding.
This went on for about a half hour, and I passed it off as being excited to train again. If ten days of rest did anything, it gave me a bit of my mojo back.
I’d planned on doing all these little things that were mounting in my life. Deep cleans around the house, crazy amounts of yard work, maybe even some painting. I finally had some TIME!
But not much of that happened. In fact, I found myself wasting more time and even a bit lethargic. I started thinking about the reality of Ironman training as it relates to time, and how I have a tendency to inflate that commitment.
It’s really easy to let your activities expand into the time allowed, and for me that often translates into premature optimization. It’s a weird thing because the word “busy” has such negative connotations. I’m so damn busy. But, really, how busy are we?
I have not spent much time watching TV during this rest run, but I have certainly averaged at least a couple hours a day (including Netflix). Hell, last night alone I spent 30 minutes trying to FIND something to watch on Netflix. Which eventually brought me to this: Salinger.
I must confess, while I am fascinated by writing and writers, I’ve never read J.D. Salinger’s the Catcher in the Rye. I have, however read Catcher in the Wry, which was a comedy of errors by Bob Uecker. You “hear” about stuff, but I never realized the impact the Catcher in the Rye had on society. He wrote that book in 1951. It has sold over 63 million times and it STILL moves 250,000 copies a year!
While watching the film, I became the triathlete version of J.D. Salinger later in his life. Alone, in isolation, sorting out my next move. Ten days of rest. Out of the spotlight. Was I working, or just sitting in a cement block cabin in the back yard falling into triathlon obscurity?
That was the questions dozens of Crushing Iron readers from around the world, er, Middle Tennessee were asking. Will this guy ever compete again? Will he ever freely endorse Kiwami or Pearl Izumi tri gear again? Or will he write the deepest, darkest novel ever written about taking 10 Days of Rest during peak triathlon season, only to be released after he dies?
Oh, the drama that ensues with an idle mind.
Which brings me back to my point. There is always enough time for training. At peak season you’re doing 20 hours a week, which is a lot, but the max, and frankly, I’m not sure I ever got close to that last year (though I’m sure I said I did). In fact, this guy is doing a “180” on traditional Ironman training. I look forward to seeing what he learns.
What’s fascinating about Ironman is, yes, it is a very difficult race, but so much has changed since the initial athletes took off for the inaugural event in 1977. They had no clue what they were doing. True pioneers without a map heading off into the uncharted sunset. Now we have all these things to point us in the right direction, and thousands and thousands of people who have shown us the way. It’s nowhere near as mysterious.
So, what have I learned over these 10 Days? I’m honestly not sure yet. I think I’ll have a clearer picture after this weekend.
Tonight, I swim. Tomorrow, I ride the Trace. Sunday I run. The goal is to do the equivalent of a Half Ironman over the weekend.
The reason I’m holding off on a Louisville decision is totally mental. Do I have the desire to train like I want to train or will I be setting myself up for the misery of a Salinger isolation? We should know sometime early next week.
What I Learned on Day 9 of "10 Days of Rest"
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My 9th Day of Rest was also National Running Day. Another concocted holiday to sell merchandise. I watched from the sidelines and counted all the shoes I still haven’t worn.
That’s not to say I don’t love National Running Day. Honestly, I once dubbed running “King,” but I’ve already “cheated” my resting twice, once with biking and once with swimming. And one of the major reasons I decided to pursue this rest period was nagging pain that revolves around running.
So, I dressed for work and did stretches by stepping up on my bathroom sink and standing there in a tie for 90 seconds for each leg. That’s when it occurred to me that, “Hey, I don’t have to stop this stretching and strengthening thing after I start training again.”
Hmm, simple, borderline dumb observation, right? Sure, but it takes the same, if not more, of a commitment. A commitment to warming up slowly, then taking time to cool down and actually stretch after the workout.
Everything I can find on stretching says do it after the workout, so I have to make time, which can be a little tricky after a four hour bike ride.
“Yeah, you guys go ahead, I’m gonna sit over here on my foam roller for 20 minutes.”
Seriously, though, pre-workout leg warm ups and post-workout rolling/stretching. It’s not so much learned as “re-learned.”
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Day 10 is upon me now and I’m already thinking tomorrow will include the pool. Saturday is bike and Sunday is run.
Why Triathlon Is So Important To Me
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I look at Facebook and see people jetting around the world, dressing up for birthdays, and taking pictures of magnificent scenery, all while I sit here and write about triathlon training. It creates many emotions, including envy and sadness.
Someone told me it’s a real thing: Facebook Depression.
Everyone else is having so much fun, then we look up from our phone and realize we’re standing alone on a barren plot of nature. No striking architecture or smiling babies, just you and the earth.
But if you look closer, you start to see the real beauty. It is often the simplest things.
There’s no glamor in self improvement, unless you’re Deepak Chopra, Oprah, or my 5k rival, Dr. Oz. The way out, is in, and you rarely find sparkly clothes or colorful drinks. Evolving is hard work.
I’ve been reading “The Art of Learning” by Joshua Waitzkin and he tells a story about the hermit crab. He says, at some point she must shed her armor and risk vulnerability while searching for protection of a larger shell. This quest for a new home is a growth and learning period, but the exposure makes her vulnerable to predators.
I feel like many times I have been in that position and opted to starve myself to stay in the same shell. I’ve avoided risk and growth for the safety of what’s comfortable.
This is why I tend to gravitate toward people who flirt with limits. Those who take risks, that push themselves to evolve.
A lot of people question why I’m always searching for something. I have a good job, I’m healthy, I have good friends, etc. Why can’t you just be happy with that?
Because the reason I have these things is because of who I am. You may think you know me, but you don’t know the person I am trying to become. And I think that push, that hunger, that passion is the very thing that makes this person, me.
When I discovered triathlon I found a tangible way to measure growth. In many ways it made me vulnerable and forced me out of my shell. My old home shattered and I either had to re-build or move on. I’ve done this many times in my life, but not enough.
It’s the hard stuff. The stuff you do when no one is looking.
But I’m not immune from putting doubt into your life by posting fancy pictures of stuff that make my life seem amazing. Sometimes I even consciously question myself as I do it:
“This picture is not a true reflection of what I’m experiencing. Instead of being in this moment, I’m thinking about how being at this concert, race, or in this awesome city can project my happiness to others, even though I’m probably kinda bored.”
What I’m really seeking is happiness from the reaction to my post.
I am on a journey to better understanding my mind and body through writing and training. I stagger, I stumble, I get back up.
Perception is everything, but sometimes I hate perception.
I push because it’s who I am. I don’t want to hide behind manufactured “perfection.” Acceptance of flaws is a beautiful and evolved state of being.
It lets me seek deeper answers. It forces me to learn. It inspires me to grow.
And if I know one thing for sure, it’s this: If we’re not growing we’re dying.
Day 8 of "10 Days of Rest"
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Well, over lunch I took a quick detour from these hallowed days of rest in the peaceful waters of the downtown YMCA (not to be confused with this crazy pool). I just wanted a light workout that would take my mind off mounting pressures and maybe convince me that I haven’t forgotten how to swim.
I was almost in the clear, but dark sunglasses weren’t enough as I unceremoniously snaked my way from the locker room. Gliding right at me with a grin was my training buddy, and former candidate for judge. Busted.
“Hey,” he said, with a suspicious look, “I thought you were on a 10 day break?”
“Well, uh, yeah, I am, but uh, I sorta felt like I . . .”
“Oh, don’t worry, buddy. I don’t judge.”
“I know, and that’s exactly why I voted for you!”
He thanked me for my vote, then I graciously let him worry about more important things, like training for Ironman Chattanooga.
Yeah, so I did swim this afternoon and it felt . . . okay. I really spent most of the time looking for that little pocket. The place where my stroke feels powerful and effortless. I think I found it three times in the course of a half hour.
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And now it’s later in the night and while I didn’t swim too hard, I do feel like it took something out of me. I haven’t done anything of note tonight, but plan a little meditation before bed.
Two days left to revel in the wonderment that is rest and recovery. I plan to ride the Trace on Saturday, then do a reasonably long run on Sunday. Then it’s decision time. Will I bite the bullet and sign up for Louisville, or will this be a summer of short tracks?
I have to admit, I’ve watched this Ironman Louisville video a few times tonight. I’m sure your pulse will race as much as mine.