My 12 Things Ironman 70.3 Chattanooga: Inside the Mind of an Aging Man Who Doesn’t Really Like Gadgets

By Mike Tarrolly for Crushing Iron

I think it’s important for people to write race reports. It helps you remember where you did well and what you need to do better next time. Over the years my recaps have morphed from flowing gibberish about every hotel lobby conversation into something more like “things I learned” with the hope that someone else can pick something up. So, yes, there are little things that happened but mostly this is about how my training for this race unfolded when I got onto the course. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the first time I didn’t feel obligated to buy a “Ironman Name Shirt” so I might be on the right track.

  1. Age Is Just a Number – I started triathlon at age 49. I’m 56 now and have done seven Half Ironman races. This was my best performance to date. So, age is definitely a number . . . but most everything that happened in this race began back in December. My running has been very consistent for 5 1/2 months, including a C26 run camp that was a bit of a game changer for me. We talk about it non-stop on the podcast, but consistency is king.

  2. You Can’t Always Get What You Want – If I’m totally honest, I thought I was going to race faster. Isn’t that always the case? But, it was mainly because of how I’d been running. The consistency was one thing, but I was also throwing down some intense work, including tons of hills, even on recovery runs. I guess the reality check is always the race. The hard bike followed by the hard run. The good news is, even though I closed pretty hard in Chattanooga, I think I would have been able to hold the general pace of my run for quite a bit longer. That’s what gives me the most optimism moving toward Wisconsin. #trainingday

  3. Sleep Might Be The Hardest Part of Race Weekend – We had a TON of C26 athletes hanging around and while that meant a lot of mental juggling, I loved it. Friendly faces and good conversation is a really good way to take your mind off the race. That said, somewhere in my subconscious I was concerned about that Saturday night sleep……… but great news! I fell asleep around 7:30 and remember feeling very excited about that as I drifted off. After some wicked dreams, I woke up naturally, reached for my phone to check the time and it was 9:00! I’d slept for 1.5 hours and was now royally f*cked. Yep. I turned on basketball for a while and eventually resorted to reading the Bible because, frankly, I don’t understand it and I thought it would fatigue my brain. No such luck as I got swept away by the book of Revelation and the only true revelation I had was that I had fall asleep again, then wake up in about 3 hours. One of these days I’ll get rest before a race.
     
  4. School Bus Nerds – There’s something very appropriate about shuttling triathletes to the swim in yellow school buses. There is a first-day-of-school awkwardness that makes everyone on the bus seem like a child. And isn’t that that point? We all do this sport to reclaim a bit of our youth, right? And I can’t help but wonder why we are so driven to feel this way? Maybe it’s simple. We want to feel young and the idea of chasing money and cars and power really starts to get old after a while. So, after standing in line, I hopped in the front seat of the bus. Prime territory. Hot seat. Podcast host. Ready to share all his knowledge about this race. And one by one, people blew by me like I was cold product. Finally the very last guy getting on plopped down next to me and fiddled with his goggles the whole ride.

  5. The Look in Their Eyes – Swim starts fascinate me. I strolled through the throngs of lycra listening to the patented Ironman morning mix tape and surveyed people’s eyes. I love wondering what’s going on in people’s minds. There is so much nervous energy before a swim because it’s one of those moments that creates a looming danger. I think that is good for us, but so many things these days are getting soft and protected. It’s the main reason I’m so adamant about the mass starts in triathlon. They are great opportunities for us to test ourselves. When we do hard things, day-to-day life seems a little bit easier. I was genuinely excited to take Mother Nature’s latest test. As I surveyed the course, I noticed a few orange buoys tucked up against the shoreline and my first thought, “these mother f*ckers are going to shorten the swim.” They’re going to take away an opportunity. But … the pros went off and it looked like they were doing fine. Yeah, they struggled a little, but it’s an upstream swim for 200 yards. Harder is the point. I put my ear plugs in and started to get a lather going in my wetsuit. Then, Tracy tapped me on the shoulder. I pulled out my ear plugs and she said, “Did you hear the announcement?” Nope. “They are shortening the swim.” WTF. Yep…First Louisville… now this one. That’s two in a row for me and I’m not a happy camper at this moment. I grunted a bit, then swore a couple times for effect and tried to re-group. The one thing I always tell myself in that situation is “DO NOT UNDERESTIMATE THE SWIM JUST BECAUSE IT IS SHORT.” Anything can happen and if you take it lightly, the next thing you know you’ll be getting run over and way off course and filled with anxiety. Focus, Mike. 

  6. Maybe Gadgets Aren’t So Bad After all – I have never been a gadget guy, but about 15 of my training rides for Chattanooga were done with a power meter. That doesn’t mean I actually “used” it as in set up my next workout based on power, I just used it . . . and paid a little more attention to this mystery called power. The thing power helped me with most was my pedal stroke. I finally saw in black and white what it felt like to push 300 watts vs. 250. It was things like that that helped me take it just a little bit easier on hills. And maybe even more important, it showed me how much I was leaving on the table for flats and gradual declines. Dear Mike, Just because you’re going 23 mph doesn’t mean you’re actually pedaling hard. It’s hard to push your power on declines and I gained confidence with bigger gears and “stealing speed” at different points on the course.

  7. Riding By Feel – All that said, I still didn’t feel comfortable enough to race with the power meter, well, that and I had a brand new Flo 90 that was sitting in the corner flirting with me for for the month leading up to Chattanooga. So, about 2 weeks out, I started riding with Flo instead of the power tap wheel. It felt amazing from the minute I pushed play. I was definitely riding differently and frankly my favorite part of riding with Flos is the sound. People can hear you coming from a block away. My plan for this race was pretty simple. I would use general MPH targets, but in a way that married the feel of my internally calibrated power meter. Stay under control and in the 20-20.5 mph range until the top of that short steep hill around mile 27, take the effort up a notch for the next 15 miles (which seem mostly downhill), then finish strong but under control for the last 12 or so. My goal was to use that fast section to get my average pace right around 21 mph by the top of that two mile climb at the 44 mile mark. I pretty much nailed it to perfection and rode the last stretch really strong. My bike computer said I finished at 21.69 mph, but I later noticed the distance read 58.5 miles, so something must be set wrong considering my race speed was 21.2 mph. 

  8. Old Guys Are Fast – So, in my mind I’m thinking, hmm… 21.69 mph… I have to be somewhere close to the running in my age group off the bike, but as I ran past several people I know who would have pointed that out, they kinda looked at me like I was Hines Ward in the Energy Lab. Well, maybe they just didn’t want to say anything because of how people are spread out on the course and Ironman Tracker can be tough to read like that. So, I just ran. *As it turned out I was 21st off the bike out of 136 in my AG… some of these guys are fast!

  9. Stay Cool Young Man – I knew the one thing that could bite me hard on this run was the heat, so I made cooling priority number one. I actually used a shoulder bag cooler as my gear bag that morning and put two small and one medium sized ziplock bags of ice in there before the swim. Oh boy I thought that was clever! I also pre-loaded my run belt with two small flasks of Skratch and 3-4 gels in the zip pocket. When I left T2 I slid the small ice bags (now somewhat melted but still cold) into the back pockets of my kit (which hit the damn spot on my lower back) and slowly dripped the big bag of ice water over my head as I ran out of transition. My goal was to be cold (blooded) as I hit the course and this really helped. Of course this process started on the bike at every aid station where I always grabbed and extra bottle of water for cooling and grabbed two for the last 12 miles of the bike.

  10. Running Blind – It didn’t turn out to be as hot as we’d thought, but the heat was another reason I wanted to get in and out of the water as soon as possible. The bike was surprisingly shaded and while I never felt that hot out there I forced myself into a constant stream of cold water on my head, neck, and legs. As I left T2 it seemed to pay off as I felt pretty solid, even after climbing the first hill. I stayed controlled and waited for one thing . . . that unforgettable feeling you get when bike legs turn back into run legs. Be patient, homie! Yes, I was pretty patient, and felt pretty good, but was still in a weird limbo about mile 4. Not tired, but not explosive. I didn’t wear my Garmin for the race, but reset my chrono on at the first two aid stations to get an idea of my pace. After doing this twice, I said, “F*ck it, just run, dude.” And that’s what I did. Besides, the face of my watch had fogged up and I was wearing contacts, so I couldn’t read it anyway. 

  11. Where Are My Run Legs? – I guess it’s around mile 5 where they have the out and back double aid station, I slowed down at the end to get enough ice and took several cold sponges. The freezing water hit me like a shot of adrenaline and my run stride hit me like lightening. I ran freely to the bottom of Battery Lane and had to reign it in for my first time up the hill. I felt strong and was starting to build confidence, mainly because I knew I’d done this in training and I was feeling things more in my lungs than my legs. 

  12. Let It Rip – At the end of my first loop I saw coach Robbie on the pedestrian bridge and he gave me the ole, “Let it rip” command. I agreed, but those kind of thoughts are relative. I’d love to say that second loop was a joy and I kept getting faster and faster until I did cartwheels across the finish line, but it started getting hard. I had to really focus and turn up my effort. I don’t want to say I ran that “hard” but I was strong. My new goal was to be steady, not stop, and get to the top of Battery again and THEN let it rip. That’s pretty much what happened, but it was a fight. I passed a shit load of people on both bridges and by the time I saw Coach again, I thought, yes, I made it. I’ll just coast down the big hill to the finish with a nice race. But, he had other ideas . . . “You gotta pick it up, finish strong!” Ugh… I had no clue what that meant, but . . . was I back in the running for something? No watch, no time, no nothing and he’s telling me to leave it all on the course for the last 3/4 of a mile. So . . . I did. And believe me running hard down that last hill isn’t as fun as soaking in the sights. It was the toughest part of my day and in my mind I figured out that I wasn’t in the running for a podium, but I had a shot at sub 5 hours. I finished right with Scott, C26 teammate, and asked if he could read my watch… he got real close, squinted and said, “4:58, I think.” And that’s what it was. While I felt really good about that and knew the sub 5 time would deceive a lot of people into thinking it was a great race, I knew that shortened swim gave it a major asterisk. 

Conclusion: Even though it was my best Half Ironman performance to date, it technically wasn’t my fastest. Back in 2014 (when I was practically a teenager) I did Muncie in 5:05 but my swim was around 36 minutes that day (vs. 19 minutes at a shortened Chattanooga swim). My bike and run were faster at Muncie, but my bike and run at Chattanooga were better. I was in control the entire day and never cringed when I saw a mile marker. It was more like they were blowing by than they were a nuisance. And I felt much better afterwards at Chattanooga. Now, some could say I didn’t leave it on the course, but Chatt’s bike and run are a little bit harder, and well, I’m a little bit older. So, don’t let age determine how you feel.  

C26 Athletes Share Thoughts On Ironman 70.3 Chattanooga

One of the coolest things about C26 Athletes is the free-flow of information. The Crushing Iron podcast is committed to sharing anything that we’ve learned and think will help the listener. After Ironman 70.3 Chattanooga we asked our active athletes what they learned and they didn’t hold back.

We think there’s so much good stuff here that we dedicated our newest podcast to the topic. You’ll find it embedded below.

Some are fun, some are funny, and some are intense. Hopefully you’ll find a few nuggets from the C26 Athletes that will help you in your next race.

Suzanne– The biggest take away from this weekend: hydrating days out from the race is so important. Staying ahead of the heat is key. I never felt like the heat was getting to me until a half mile to go. I think this was the key to my PR. 

Joanne- I’m doing well. I learned that not worrying about things you can’t control and work on things you can is best advice for racing and life.

Walking the aid stations works for me, ice and sponges kept me in the game for the run.

Revae– Listen to your body when it comes to nutritional advice. If it ain’t broke, don’t try to fix it. And a second pair of socks for just in case after the bike is totally clutch!

Michael-  It was my first Half IM so I did not have a lot of experience or expectations except to finish. With that being said I learned that next time I will look closer at the course maps. Not that I didn’t look but I was not expecting a hilly run. I trained on the flat streets of Chicago. I might have been beneficial to hit the hills of treadmill or find some hill and do repeats.

Wes- To stop telling yourself you can’t do something and start telling yourself you can.

Steve- I am trashed. I learned that I love the 70.3 distance. I mean LOVE. Also, I learned that if I sing Eminem classics in my head i can squeeze out an extra 15 seconds per mile………. ‘Til the roof comes off, till the lights go out.’Til my legs give out, can’t shut my mouth.

Amy- I feel like I didn’t race 😢. Some races go as planned and others don’t. I’m trying to keep my head up and I’m looking forward to the next one.

Bobby- I learned to stick to myself and my plan and not let those people who passed me on the bike early on get in my head. I saw a lot of them towards the end of the ride and then again on the run. Also, stuffing ice in my tri top was a fantastic feeling.

Claire- I learned that sports bras can hold an absurd amount of ice between aid stations and that my bike saddle has got to go.

But on a more serious note I also learned that if things aren’t going wonderfully it’s not the end of the world. I got kicked in the mouth on the swim, which I was a little bitter about, until I was chatting with a girl in transition who was excited because she overcame her fear of the water. She almost drowned when she was 8. Yeah. I got humbled real quick. Getting perspective back made the rest of the race better.

Peter- I’m sure I learned more but two specific things stick out for me. 1) this was my first race with power on the bike. My first half I let the power be a guide but followed how I was feeling more, the second half I became obsessed with hitting the range coach and I talked about, it became all I was worried about. I was so worried I over-biked, it almost took over my thoughts on the run. Future races I will trust my body more and keep the power as a guide. 2) the run is going to hurt, it is all about managing the pain as long as possible, I kept telling myself to keep running, just make it another mile before you walk. I made it to mile 10 when I gave in to pain and walked the hill. In the future I want to push through and not give in.

Sharon- I learned you can have a ton of fun doing a relay and push yourself as hard as you want in your leg because your teammates can do the rest and you still get a cool medal out of it.

I also learned that people like reading my name off my butt.

Tom- I learned that 70.3’s are this really interesting puzzle of power, speed, pace, and nutrition. Solving that puzzle specific to your body is the key to a successful race. Lots to learn

Tracy- Things I learned…

1. Although every single podcast mentions going too hard on the bike and being trashed for the run I probably kinda did that. And I’m gonna use this as an excuse to convince my husband I need a power meter.

2. But I’m still wayyyyyy stronger and more capable than I thought.

3. Going into a race with a time goal ruins everything. This was the first time I truly didn’t have one and I barely watched the clock because I didn’t care.

4. I need to learn how to pee on my self.

5. Having my name on my ass is low key annoying when I am on the struggle bus and people want to talk to me.

6. I hate coke except during a 70.3 when it tastes like the nectar of the gods.

7. My coach kinda sorta maybe just a little knows what he is doing.

Robbie– I learned it’s really hard to run and vomit at the same time… and forcing yourself from aid station to aid station works

Lucas- I learned how it’s funny when you hold back on the bike because coach says so and then all those people that passed you in miles 1-10 show back up in miles 40-56.

Courtney-  Long car rides home the next day suck especially when you have to drive most of it. I learned I need more focus on nutrition. So for everyone that rocked the run what was your nutrition like on the bike?

Ross-  1) Racing with teammates and C26 colors rocks. 2) No, Andy Potts does not get special treatment from the shuttle bus driver when he asks to be let off before everyone else. 3) You can pee your wetsuit in line before the swim and almost no one will notice. 4) Without enforcement, people will draft the heck out of the bike course. 5) Coke on the run works best when flat, otherwise, get ready for crampy run burps (it’s about as pleasant as it sounds). 6) Trusting your coach with a conservative game plan can produce a good race. 7) I haven’t reached my potential and can’t wait to see what comes next.

Mark- All good here, quads are sore as a MF! 1) Consistency and hard work in the winter will pay dividends. 2) I like running with no watch. 3) Patience, patience, patience… 4) Do a lot of walking. Helps the sore legs.

Kelly-  I did a caffeine fast for 8 days prior to Sunday and found that caffeine was a great reward to my system on race day. I also worked on taking in more nutrition. I’ve basically doubled the amount of gels I take on the run. No stomach issues and almost perfectly even splits on the marathon. I feel like that helped me race closer to my peak pace. I’m excited to have figured out what works for me. And I’m ecstatic that Robbie’s running workouts don’t have all the long boring runs I used to do yet still produce great results. I don’t think I’ll ever look back on a 20+ miler again! Unless I get so fast that I log that many in 2:20.  😂

And I’m sore and I’ve already lost a toe nail. Boo—it’s finally sandal season. A 7 hour car ride home after a marathon is not ideal.

Jason-  (1) Consistent, structured training beats sporadic, panic training. (2) if its going to be a hot day, Its never too early to start cooling (3) Don’t under estimate the power of managing your mind and thoughts. (4) Smiling when it sucks does help. (5) Paying a little more to have a hotel room close to the race start is worth it. (6) Personally,my biggest area of opportunity and gains is on the bike (7) THERE IS NOTHNG BETTER THAN RACING WITH A TEAM OF AWESOME FOLKS! GO CRUSHERS!

Aaron- Love all the posts.What I learned: 1) Racing without a watch was AWESOME, I could focus on the race instead of pace . 2) Mud, my plan was ok to mitigate the mud which populated the grassy transition area and path to and from each discipline with extra wet towels at my transition area. You lose cool points with muddy cleats and wet pedals when clipping in at the mount line… 3) Race reports and more informative workout journaling to have a robust set of references of that day and what worked and what didn’t to help build your race plan.

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If you have a race coming up and are thinking about a coach, please contact Coach Robbie at [email protected] to discuss our multiple plans. We have all the information, including prices, posted on our Coaching Page.

Here’s our Ironman 70.3 Chattanooga Re-cap Podcast. Please be sure to subscribe to the Crushing Iron podcast on iTunes and follow Crushing Iron on YouTube.
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Ironman Chattanooga My 20 Things
Ironman Chattanooga 2016 Tribute Video
Ironman Chattanooga 2015 Tribute Video
Ironman Chattanooga Run – 11 Thoughts

Ironman New Orleans 70.3 Crushed Me

I went into this race with guarded optimism.  Training was going well, and I was especially excited to get to the run.  I honestly thought I could lay down a 1:45 for the half marathon, but New Orleans was about to beat me like a rusty timpani drum.

noladowntown

My biggest fear was the effect a ton of driving would have on me (well, that and the wind and the sun and the humidity and the street swindlers).  The Badgers making the Final Four in Dallas was a welcome surprise the weekend before, and I have zero regrets about going, but the travel shanked my mojo.

CHECK IN – 

As usual I forgot my USAT card, so I had to pull it up on my phone, which pissed off about 10 people in line behind me.  Then, after some wickedly lame small-talk with volunteers, I bought my third “name t-shirt” — which officially put me over one million dollars spent on the Ironman brand.

I ran into an nice old man (older than me) wearing a Wisconsin logo, so we talked Badgers for a while before he dragged me onto the veranda and pointed with joy at paddle boat he was spending the next week aboard.  “There’s no gambling, or kids, which is nice,” he said.

I also spent a lot of time in here.

nolaprayer

Then it was time for the Athlete’s Meeting where I sat next to Wells, who was doing his first half. He was all of 24-years-old and excited to get my expert advice — which he promptly used to kick my ass in the race.  I was happy for him and it made me wonder how often that kind of thing happens.  Some guy in a gangster TYR hat, who’s been around the block a couple times, starts talking about how great he is then gets dusted dusted by the student.

mikehat

My immediate concern after the meeting was to figure out how I could get a practice swim. Luckily I ran into a woman who heard about an open-water-deal hosted by a local tri club. I got directions and drove about 20 minutes to jump in the cold and murky water of Lake Ponchartrain.

I was “wetsuit rusty” but felt great until I climbed the concrete stairs and had a bout with dizziness.  I sat on the ledge collecting my bearings and this incident quickly turned into my number one fear for the next morning.

As I stripped my wetsuit I noticed a gash in my big toe and it quickly proved my blood was red, just like yours.  The guy supervising, Coach Kevin, said it was probably from “those damn barnacles,” and the funny part of this story happened the next morning in the swim line with Rick, from Nashville, who I just met.  We talked for a while, then he looked at my toe and said, “Did you cut your toe at that open water swim yesterday?” I was like, “Yeah, how the hell did you know?”  He said, “Me too.”  I took an awkward gaze at his bare big toe and it was sliced in exactly the same spot.

That night, I slept like a man expecting an earthquake, and netted about four hours sleep.  I woke at 4:30, grabbed my gear and walked 8 blocks to the shuttle bus. The streets of New Orleans are quite the sight at 5 am.  Drunks stagger by and look at you funny as you walk past them carrying a wetsuit.  A very small part of me wished I was staggering back to bed, too, but I convinced myself to pursue the torture.

I do love the morning of an Ironman race.  The energy is awesome.  This race had a real international flavor and I salsa’d my way to transition-bike-rack number 1266 (the one near the milk jug, which wasn’t put on by me, but was easy to spot).

nolatransition

For the second day in a row I debated wheeling my bike to the tech so he could check the brakes.  I had a small issue with my wider race wheels but convinced myself it would be cool.  That said, I should note that I am likely the worst bike mechanic on the planet, so neither you, or me, should trust my opinion on bike health.

THE SWIM  –

In the spirit of our “going out of the way to do a race” theme, the Swim Entrance was about a ½ mile away from my bike.  Thankfully they had a gear-bag-shuttle to the finish line, so I wore sweats, and shoes over to the swim, then dropped them in the bag and put on the wetsuit.

nolaswimstart

The swim was an age group time-trial start.  Fifteen age groups went off in order (6 at a time) starting with the Pros at 7am.  I guessed I might jump in at 7:45, but it was more like 8:10.  I was literally one of the last men to get into the water.

My plan was to take a leisurely glide.  Start slow, stay slow, then speed up at the end.  I swam it to perfection.  But, as I neared the exit, I started thinking about my dizzy spell from the day before.  Surely I would feel it again, so I came up with a strategy to stop about 10 yards from the staircase and tread water for 30 seconds so my body had a vertical head start.  I think it helped.

Swim Time: 39:17  (1:52/100yds)

THE BIKE – 

All of my bike workouts for this race had been inside on a trainer.  I had a few opportunities to ride outside, but this is the time of year when my allergies can be brutal and nothing ignites an itchy nasal cavity like a free-wheeling jaunt through the pollen farm called Nashville, TN.

More than anything I was concerned about the wind in New Orleans and riding 56 miles in fresh air for the first time.  As it turned out, my fears were well founded.

If you enjoy being in aero and riding directly into gusting winds, New Orleans is your race.  I must have heard 20 people say, “Take it easy on the bike, or you’ll be screwed on the run.”  And, for once, I listened  . . . sorta.

The first ten miles weren’t too bad, but the combination of not riding outside along with lake got my attention.  So did a guy trying to tame a horse.

I’m riding up on this scene in disbelief.  The horse looked like a wild black stallion and this guy is holding onto it with a rope.  The horse is bucking and shaking its mane and I’m literally riding right at it.  I honestly thought I might get kicked in the face, but swerved just out of his range.  It was probably the coolest part of the bike.

My plan was to stay in the small ring for the first hour and just spin.  It was going pretty well and I was hovering around 18 miles an hour.  Not ideal, but I was waiting for some wind assistance and thought I could jack that average closer to 20 mph.  But, those moments were few and far between.

It felt like two-thirds of the race was either directly into the wind or hampered by a strong crosswind.  I was a little frustrated, but feeling pretty good up until mile 30.

I made a mental note of the look on some of the pro’s faces as they passed by me going the other way.  I’m pretty sure Andy Potts was puking and Ben Hoffman was falling asleep in aero, or . . . I may have been projecting.

My goal-pace was a greasy watermelon and a pinching brake pad was not helping my mood. Ever so slightly the right brake rubber would slide in against the wheel.  I stopped a few times, but as I mentioned, I am a joke when it comes to bike maintenance.  At one point I was in a panic because I tightened it so both sides were locked on my wheel.  If I a had a wire cutter I would have sliced the cable.  It was pretty ridiculous and I bet I spent 15-20% of the ride with my brake pad rubbing.  This probably wasn’t good for my speed . . . or legs.

Around mile 35 there was a nice tail wind and I was solid at 26 mph for 3-4 miles.  Then . . . there was a turnaround.  For those same 3-4 miles on the way back I hovered around 13 mph.  It was brutal and this was a common theme . . .

gotchicked

People always tell me they could never do an Ironman, but could do the bike, and to those people, I say, “You have no clue.”  Racing a bike 56 or 112 miles is no joke.  The strategy is immense and one bad section, or over zealousness, can screw up your race.

I was hell bent on taking it easy, but my average speed was dropping like Black Friday.  I started pushing, and from mile 40-50 I was out of my comfort zone and bonked the last 6.  It was just a brutal day . . . and far from over.

Bike Time – 3:12:39  (17.4 mph)

THE RUN – 

The minute I got off the bike, I knew I was in trouble.  I always have a little trouble walking, but this time my back was fried.  I couldn’t run my bike into transition and my mental state plummeted.

I kept the faith and trusted that it was just a “feeling,” then followed the advice I gave Wells the day before, “Just start running and your legs will figure it out.”   Eventually they may have, but my head wasn’t on board.

The course started flat, then climbed a substantial bridge at mile one.  Everyone was walking, but if you’ve read my blog, you know I refuse to walk.

I slugged up the hill and was absolutely cooked.  I kept the feet moving down the backside and at the  aid station realized my initial mile was just under a 10 minute pace.  That’s no way to run a 1:45.

Shortly after, we ran up our second hill which happened to be a draw bridge.  By the time I got to the top I was really hoping it would just open and drop me into the river.  I was in a bad place and soon thereafter . . . I was . . . walking.

I promised myself it was a re-charge and would pick it back up, but my feet were already burning and my body was crumbling.  I started concocting walk/run strategies but my race was slipping away.  The day before in the athlete’s meeting, the guy asked the room if anyone was trying to qualify for Ironman 70.3 World in Canada.  I was “this close” to raising my hand.  Now I was happy I didn’t.  I felt like a fool, a sham, a fake.

The run continued along the shore of Lake Ponchartrain for . . .  ever.  When I hit mile five, I did my best to put the hammer down and may have lasted 2 minutes before I was walking again.  I kept looking at the water thinking it would be a far better place to be and almost . . . quit.

I have really come to love running, but this day made me hate it.  Hot black top, no shade, no scenery, no spectators, and serious doubt.

I knew my run was shot, but the clock would not stop ticking.  At mile 9, after a haphazard slew of run/walk attempts, I spotted a guy dumping multiple cups of ice into his shorts.  We seemed to be in the same boat.  I looked at him and said, “What ya think man, you ready to run this home?”  He said, “Let’s do it.”

His name is David and turns out he did IMWI the year before me.  He also lives in Wisconsin, so I suppose we were destined to meet.

Somehow, someway, we trudged next to each other for four miles and ran it home without stopping (aside from the occasional ice dump).  I’m typically not the guy who runs with anyone, but this opened my mind . . . and maybe even my heart.  We enter these races with our optimal goal in mind, but truthfully, doing Ironman or Half Ironman’s are incredibly difficult feats and things often go wrong.

But I still believe this stuff is mostly mental.  And that’s exactly what I was thinking about during those difficult moments.  I was beaten.  I didn’t see the need to push once my race goal had left reality.  I couldn’t find the reason.  It didn’t matter.  I had “failed” and I could either wallow in it or accept it and bring it back another day.

So often endurance is about managing pain.  Can you create a reason more powerful than the ache to push on?  Can you justify the spears in your hip and daggers in your feet?  Today, David and I both felt unified in our agony and leaned on each other to complete what we started. Neither of us were overly happy with our times, but I’m pretty sure we will reflect with pride as we understand what it took to cross under that white arch.

I guess that’s what they mean by Finisher.

nashvillestrongbike

Run time:  2:23:40
TRT: 6:21:58

Triathlon is a Great Way to Save Money

They call it free speed, and as long as you don’t count money as money, they’re right.

I have officially spent more on stuff for my bike than on my bike.  I’m not sure how I feel about that, but after the inaugural spin on my new Flo Cycling wheels, I am not complaining.

Image

What I am complaining about is bike technician prowess.  I’m an absolute buffoon with tools in my hand.  Last night we had a “bike maintenance party” over at Wasky’s and I was like a redneck out of his above ground pool.

I watched in amazement as these guys put on tires, stem extenders, and changed out my rear cassette.  Talk about humbling.  I’m actually thinking about packing a beer in my bike jersey in case I get a flat tire because I will be sitting in the middle of a cornfield with grease all over my hands and a very expensive bike that isn’t moving.

We finally put the wheels on, but they were so wide the brakes were pinching.  I was like, “Okay, what now?”  The guys shook their heads and said it was time to eat.  I casually brought it up after dinner and they confessed they didn’t know how to adjust brakes on a Trek.  Ha!  I knew if even thought about trying, I would end up needing a whole new brake system.

I packed my bike and hoped for a minor miracle, and it happened when The Man’s Man emailed this morning and said he could fit me into his schedule.

Anyway, I’m not much of a reviewer, but I had an “easy ride” tonight as part of my taper for Muncie 70.3 on Saturday and it was very difficult to go slow on these wheels.  Holy F&ck.

The wheels were a total impulse buy because Wasky mistakenly ordered two sets.  When the owner of the company called to make sure he wanted both, Wasky asked for about an hour to see if his friend (ME) wanted a pair.  I certainly didn’t want to spend another thousand bucks (technically just over 900 for the wheels) on my bike, but REALLY wanted to join the race wheel club.  It took me about an hour to say, “Yes.”

I didn’t have my watch on, but five things were quite apparent my first time on Flo Cycling 90’s:

  1. I sounded faster
  2. I moved faster
  3. My legs weren’t working as hard I rolled up small hills more easily
  4. The wind blew me around a little more than normal
  5. They look awesome

The Michelin Pro 4 tires are quite spectacular as well.  They feel very sturdy and smooth.  The bonus of tonight’s ride was an unexpected tire test in the middle of a ferocious downpour..  The tires held their line nicely and there was no problem breaking.

And for good measure, this was also my first ride after a fitting that makes it feel like I’m riding a completely new bike.  It will take some getting used to, but I’m hoping I feel completely solid by mile 50.

In summary, I’m essentially riding a new bike with new wheels and new tires for 56 miles in my first Half Ironman on Saturday.  Jesus, maybe I’ll new swim goggles and shoes while I’m on a roll.

Hotels in Muncie?

Booking hotels used to be an entirely different experience.  My first criteria always used to be nightlife and strip clubs.  Now, I just want a quiet room that’s close to the race.  Well, sorta.  I mean, if you’re going to Muncie, you might as well “go to Muncie.” 

I checked the recommended hotels on Muncie’s site, but they’re booked.  They also seem to be a long ways from the swim start, and I’d prefer to sleep as long as possible and be within walking distance of karaoke after the run. 

The race is Saturday, so I’m guessing we’ll live it up a little bit on the Ball State campus.  Anyone have suggestions for where to stay?