Mike Tarrolly – Co-Host of the Crushing Iron Podcast
It can be difficult to live in the moment, but Ironman is a master class. Who in their right mind would set out to exercise for more than half of an entire day?
This was my 10th Ironman since the age of 50, and, maybe it’s my age, but somehow I keep forgetting how hard they are. And this one was tougher for reasons that were all my fault.
My biggest stress about Ironman is sleeping before the race. The anxiousness, and fear of what lies ahead are usually factors as I lay in bed watching the clock tick closer to my impending doom.
But this year one of the C26 athletes I coach changed my pre-race-life by introducing me to Northwoods Baseball Sleep Radio podcast. In a nutshell it is a splendidly monotone “baseball broadcast” with fake players and teams that never do anything exciting.
I tried it Friday night and was out like a light for a seven hour sleep. It took me a bit longer to fall asleep Saturday, but I put together a pretty solid 6 hours before the race and I felt great in the morning. I did some yoga, nibbled at breakfast and felt strangely alive for 5 am.
I’m sure anyone who raced Wisconsin last year in the cold wind and rain was holding their breath with me until we actually walked outside and felt the air. Well, the minute we left the hotel lobby it started raining. I had a brief moment of PTSD but the rain only lasted 5 minutes and the weather was perfect.
SWIM
Everything was in place with my bike and run bags and we took the stroll down the helix to Swim Start. I took my time getting the wetsuit right then snaked my way through a sea of people to the 1:10-1:20 corral, which was pretty close to the front.
With less than 10 minutes to the start of Ironman, it’s really important to relax. I have no interest in starting out hot in the water. As a pretty average swimmer, my sole purpose is to have no issues in the swim and use it as a warm up.
My first mistake was picking the inside lane because I like to start super slow to calm my breath and get a feel for the water. This did not go over well with the scrum that formed around me, so I pushed for a minute to get separation.
There was a lot of contact on the first loop. It was more frustrating than anything and my mantra was one buoy at a time. I had to be a little careful about my injured wrist, so on the second loop I stayed a little off the buoy line, which I think took away some draft and made for less than perfect lines.
My open water swim training was frequent, but the longest I swam this summer was 3200 yards, and I was banking on the race flow and energy. My training had me around a 2:00/100 swimmer all year in the lake and that’s what I was on race day.
Swim time: 1:19, about a minute slower than last year
BIKE
I felt great out of the water and ran through the big crowd on the helix. I had my kit top around my waste under the wetsuit and pulled it up as I ran. I grabbed my bike shoes and helmet and was out the door for a reasonable 7:25 transition.
I absolutely love the loops at Ironman Wisconsin but “the stick” is a major pain in the ass. I truly hate the bumpy, hilly, disjointed feeling at the start of this ride, but I was in way better spirits than last year.
My legs were a little flat, but I was moving pretty well and around 19 mph at mile 20. A great start.
The climb to mile 30 in Mt. Horeb is an exercise in patience which I nailed. My excitement built as I reached Witte Road, the awesome 4 hill roll through majestic farmland (hopefully not owned by Bill Gates).
About 3 miles later my favorite descent on Garfoot Rd. began. You bomb down, then weave to the left before a banked right corner takes you down again, then sweeps back to the left. This is the fastest section of the course for about 5 miles. As I cornered the last section of the downhill, it happened.
I was one hour and 55 minutes into the ride, cruising in a downhill pack with 5 other riders when my back tire blew. It was a little dicey at 30 mph, but I managed to get out of the trouble and to the side of the road. I was definitely startled, but tried to keep my cool.
This was the first flat I’ve ever had in a race. I stayed calm and changed out the tube, but something was wrong with my valve extenders (and my brain). I quickly went through two CO2 cartridges and was now in a big jam.
It was about the worst place to flat because everyone was flying by me and I honestly can’t blame them for not stopping. But an awesome guy did stop (I think bib number 689) and patiently took out his C02 and filled my tube. I don’t know if it was something with my rim, but that tube started filling then went flat. I told him thanks and he should get going.
About 5 minutes later a race motorcycle stopped and messaged the support crew, but I wasn’t wearing a Garmin and said it was mile 40 but it was more like 38, so I never did see them.
Then, my girlfriend, Emily, came by and stopped. She gave me more C02 and I’m not gonna lie, I panicked and blew two more opportunities. I was now about 20 minutes into my situation and realized the race was in big trouble. She was kicking ass and I sent her on her way.
I shouted “C02” into the wind, but trains of cyclist kept flying by. I gathered myself and dug out an old tube from the bottom of my tool box and changed it out again. I kept shouting and eventually a guy stopped. I ran about 50 yards and grabbed a cartridge.
It felt like my last chance. I took a deep breath and slowly let out the stream. By some miracle it filled and held. I was back in business, but I looked at my chrono and it was now 2:35 into the ride.
A 40 minute penalty for being a dumbass.
I had two choices, relax and ride it out like normal, or . . . get back some time. Of course I chose the latter and Wisconsin is not the course to be overly aggressive with a marathon looming.
I felt good for the next couple hours, but the second time through the “3 Sisters” really got into me. I pushed it back through Verona, but any time I made up, quickly went away on the stick back to town. I was shelled and dreading the marathon more than usual.
Bike Time: 7:02 (40 minute mechanical)
On Saturday I decided to take it “easy” on the bike and shoot for around 6:15. I felt like I was right on track until the flat, but trying to make up time really took it out of me. My run felt strong in training and I thought 4:30 would be a reasonable number for the marathon, but the minute I got off the bike, I knew it was about survival.
I tried everything to get the legs going, but found nothing. It turned into an intricate mind game of walking through aid stations and counting steps to distract me. I took frequent breaks, but somehow didn’t walk more than a minute except for the hill section on loop two.
There’s really not much more to say about the run, other than I didn’t totally give in and I am proud of that part. So much is mental out there and I think if my bike hadn’t been totally destroyed I could have found the muster to push through it more often. But shit happens and I did my best to enjoy the pain.
Run Time: 5:23:50
I guess being able to run a 5:23 marathon after all of that at 60 years old is something most can’t do, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I wasn’t a little disappointed. I stopped looking at my watch and had no idea what my race or run time was. It was all about getting to the next aid station and finish line.
But, as always, coming down the red carpet was the best feeling. Not a care in the world with thousands of strangers cheering you on. I saw my mom with a bunch of other C26 friends and stopped to hug her. Then right before the end I saw my nieces Kate and Maggie and stopped to thank them before crossing the finish line where Emily’s smile waiting for me. We hugged and limped to our medals together.
A great finish to an awesome weekend. We had over 40 teammates in Madison racing the 70.3 and Full. This team is unbelievably awesome and supportive. All chasing individual goals and pushing the limits but always there for each other. It’s really hard to express how much that means to me.
If you stopped and helped me with the flat, or have thoughts on the race, please email me at [email protected]
