As promised here is the full video I shot at Ironman Wisconsin. It includes the Mass Swim Start, the bike hills, and run in downtown Madison. It was an awesome and inspiring day at Ironman Wisconsin and I hope you like the video.
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This is just a quickie, but I had to say a little something about this phenomenal day. I showed up around 6 am with my mind on the money shot. I had thought about this for months. I wanted to get an incredible overhead view of the swim gaggle as they set out to sea. There was only one problem. There were so many damn people there I couldn’t get a good shot.
Eight deep everywhere I looked. I was running around like a guy looking for his toe covers in transition. It was a madhouse! I’m going up and down the stairs, back and forth, all over that damn Helix and I couldn’t find one shot worth shooting.
I was starting to get seriously bummed. I drove 10 hours from Nashville and I wouldn’t get the one shot I wanted most? I even pleaded with the Ironman VIP area to give me 10 minutes in Swanksville. I mean it’s not like I don’t give them endless attention and praise nearly every day of the year. But, they wouldn’t let me in, and in fairness it was volunteers, I’m sure the head honcho would have graciously offered the Catbird seat, but I didn’t have time to wait.
I finally landed in a stairwell and shot the incredible start through the glass. I think it will work out find, but not idea. Here’s a sample.
I knew there was a nice crowd last year while I raced, but I just had no idea how nuts this place was. Without any “real access” my shooting was severely challenged. Hopefully I can make something of the video, and thankfully, with a crazy stroke of luck I met two Crushing Iron readers who totally hooked me up for the bike. Tom connected me with Ryan who took me right to the 3rd of the “Three Bitches” somewhere out in the middle of nowhere.
These people are kind of crazy in the greatest of ways. Screaming things like “I bet you wish you were still in the water!” as cyclists focused every ounce of energy on climbing that hill. Costumes ruled the day and I can’t help but feel a sense of pride when I watch literally hundreds of fellow Wisconsinites so excited to strange men and women get to the top of the hill.
After the bike, Ryan dropped me off and I went right to the Run Out and within two minutes I saw the first pro, Konstantin Bachor, hit the pavement. He was ELEVEN minutes ahead and had just set a bike course record of 4:31:13. He smiled, ran by, and gave me a friendly slap to the head as if to say, “See you in a few minutes.”
I rolled up and down State Street mesmerized by all the energy and excitement. It was a perfect day, loaded with a comfortable Wisconsin sun and spectators were soaking it in.
It’s going to be very hard not pulling the trigger tomorrow.
Hopefully you will enjoy this compilation of Ironman Wisconsin 2013 Race Reports, race videos, and podcasts. I combed Facebook, Google, and other groups to find (and read) as many as I could. I have pulled an excerpt from each so you may have an idea of what you’re about to read. I plan to add more as I find them, so bookmark this page and look for the latest. Also, if you have one and I missed it, please let me know. As always, please follow me @miketarrolly on Twitter for all my updates. Thanks!
Official Ironman Wisconsin 2013 Race Day Video
Pro recap video from Ironman Wisconsin 2013
Finish line streaming video of Ironman Wisconsin 2013
Ironman Wisconsin 2013 Statistical Analysis with photos
“I could also cite my tire pressure, crash, bumpy roads, steep hills, just a litany of reasons that could have contributed to my less-than-stellar bike time. I just know I got owned!” – Christina from The Jerk Store Called . . . (Best blog name ever)
“I settled it as much as I could w/the choppy conditions and found myself behind some feet that were just swimming all over the place!! We did not swim straight AT ALL…BUT it’s pretty crazy how swimming alone in a straight line is just way harder and no faster than drafting easy on some feet that just happen to be swimming a little whacky.” – Women’s winner, Jackie Arendt from Jackie Arendt Racing.
“Within 30 seconds people were kicking my head and beating on my legs . . . and I was loving every second of it. Rubber bodies were everywhere and keeping good form was nearly impossible. My arms were tangled and my feet felt like they were tied by rubber cords. Good thing Robbie made us practice this shit.” Mike (me) of Crushing Iron
“As long as they didn’t intentionally do anything to me I let them go. I didn’t pull or push anyone without good reason. However, if you did things on purpose, and Mr. D. Head next to me found out, I do retaliate.” Kevin for Crushing Iron
“The race started off well with my kind of swim—a hard one. Well it would have been better without wetsuits, but at the very least we got tough and choppy conditions and had to work for that swim finish!” – Hillary Biscay from HillaryBiscay.com
“On Observatory Drive where the worst of the run course hills are, a guy next to me started to tell me what a disappointment the whole day was. I had no room in my mind for negativity, so as soon as we reached the top of the first hill I wished him luck and took off running. I wanted to be so far away from the negativity that I actually ran the second hill on Observatory Drive, where everyone else was walking.” – From Finding My Happy Place
“On the first loop I had made it about 30 miles or so into the ride and was reaching the fun rollers of Witte Road when things got exciting. A motorcycle cop whizzed by and a little bit after that came the first pro, Romain Guillaume, a Frenchman who we dubbed the “Little Guy” at the expo. He was booking. It wasn’t long before other pro riders were whipping by.” – Chris at I Am Tri
“I headed out on the run, and had seriously wobbly legs. The first two miles, I felt like I had no control over them. I had never felt that before. I thought, I DID race the bike!!!!” – From Katie at Triing for Pro
“I lined up along the buoy line, plan to take she shortest path & prayed for clear water. When the BOOM sounded, we swam. It was instant madness. If you have never swam an Ironman mass swim start & if you have not witnessed one in person, there really is no way to describe it & do it justice.” From Robyn at Sunrider Tri
“Well we were churning and a burning till mile 17……..Then a bear jumped on my back and the thing people call “The Squatch” jumped on my front side. I had developed a blister on each big toe and those MF’ers would scream out loud with every foot strike.” From the legendary Carl Noftsger of Endurance Nation
“Midway through, I unfortunately managed to increase the number of “one things” in my quiver. I lost my wedding ring to Lake Monona. When I realized this, I knew I needed to add “better make this race count” to my “one thing” thoughts, because I wasn’t sure how my wife would react.” – From Ian at Endurance Nation
“I kept pushing until the end, skipping the last 2 aid stations. I saw JT at the EN tent on State St, gave him my fuel belt (which was empty anyway), pushed on the finish. Coming around Capital Square with about ¼ mile left, I spotted a guy in a race kit that I recognized from the bike leg. I felt I could pass him, so I gave it one last push.” From Bruce at Endurance Nation
“I use a 2-mile lap as my “box” while on the bike. When I hear the beep for a lap, I start a new interval on the Joule so that I am not working too hard to hit a particular number. When a new lap starts, now it is time to concentrate on that lap and that lap only.” – From Joe at Endurance Nation
“There were people…everywhere. I really wish I had my GoPro mounted on the bike for this as it’s hard to explain. It felt like I was climbing into a crowd of people and the path literally unfolded in front of me as people peeled away to clear the space.” – Jeremy at Endurance Nation
“Oh Madison, WI. the best “Irontown” in the U.S. for sure. If you are considering Ironman, in my opinion, Wisconsin is THE one to do. Forget the amazing course, it is the people there that make the race truly iconic…The volunteers and the spectators are simply UNREAL. Tour de France-style support along the bike course, screaming (often drunk?) fans all along the run- truly one-of-a-kind.” – From professional triathlete, Beth Walsh
“Around 4:30 the volunteers with the most experience are keenly aware of time running short; a helpful one said to me and the couple gentlemen I was riding near (it’s a no-drafting rule, but it’s hard to avoid some proximity), “You can still make it, but you need to stay focused. Fifteen miles in one hour – you can do that!” Yes, I could do that – but it was WINDY! We were riding straight into the wind, it seemed like; you’d have a brief respite, then there’d be a turn and it would be brutal headwind again.” From Jenny Davidson
“I’ll tell you I felt fine the whole race until the second loop of the run. As I turned around, I said to myself ” you don’t want to do this but you have to.” – From Matt Amman
“The Ironman Wisconsin bike course is no joke. It’s known for being a hilly beast. I had come up to Madison to ride a portion of the course one time in July this past summer and was very glad that I had the opportunity to preview the course. The preview helped me gain some confidence and made me feel like I would definitely be able to finish the course on race day.” – From Rachel at Triathlon Girl in Training
“The entire population of Madison, volunteers and spectators. What a freaking incredible place to race. The volunteers were perfect. The spectators were out of hand. You guys made the experience. While were here, a huge shout out to fellow geophysicist and maybe-turning-pro triathlete Summer, who absolutely nailed restaurant and spectating recommendations.” – From A Siegfried Runs
“There were times when I felt so tired, I felt like I could just fall asleep standing up while walking. In my desperation to try and figure out what was going on with my body, I started eating all kinds of stuff being offered on the run aid stations. I ate bananas, energy gels, defizzed coke, chicken broth, and lots of potato chips.” – From Loco Runner
“Saturday, Sept 10 – Woke up to a farmer’s market right on the capital square! Walked around a little, had some breakfast and realized that the weekend was heating up. I had high hopes for a low-80s kind of Sunday. Oh well. I forced myself to drink lots of water on Saturday and kept my bottle close by as I did the last few Ironman tasks before Sunday – needed to drop off my bike and my transition bags at Monona Terrace.” – From Kelly at There Had Better Be Oxygen
“I knew that I had pushed the bike a little harder than I had planned to, but I still felt pretty good starting out on the run. I paced my first 3 miles at a 7:15 pace and began passing a good number of people, including a few female pros.” – From Eric at Ironman Diary
“Before even starting the race I reminded myself of a question that was suggested by a renown Ironman coach on a podcast I listen to. He suggested that before making any decision during the race, you should ask yourself, “How will this decision effect the last 10k of the run?” – From Iron Dad Triathlete
“I didn’t take five strokes when the panic set in. F%CK ME!!!! I had perfect swims all season and here I was acting like I had never been there before. Each time I tried to force myself to swim the breathing was too short and labored to let me swim.” – From Eric in Cleveland
“Miles 23-25.5 are long, dark and sparse of spectators. So close, yet so far away. Then you hit State Street and that is what this race is all about. Music bumping, beer flowing the crowd shouting you up the hill towards the capitol. I teared up a little turning that corner. It had been a long week and I had my moments doubting whether I would make it here or not. I looked around, picked up my turnover a bit and soaked it all in.” From Angela in Chicago
“It’s become a September tradition. Take the second weekend of the month, head down to Madison and cheer on athletes as they tackle the 140.6 miles of the Ironman Wisconsin course.” – From Badger Girl, on Spectating IMWI
“The first goal in our family is always to start. It’s a good goal, and it’s one that shouldn’t be taken lightly. Injuries and accidents happen; I know this too well. On race morning, after a fitful night of sleep, I rolled over and looked at my watch. It said 6:35.” – From George in Atlanta
“I decided that I would try grapes instead and drink water. That worked like magic. I keep the energizer jelly beans and ate them slowly to try and see if that would be able to help me maintain some sort of an energy level.” Tri Fuel
“We all have many roles in life, and I have been trying to juggle being a supportive partner, loving mother, daughter, sister, nurse, friend, and ironman. I want to stress that I am just like everyone else, and if you have a dream and put the work in, that many dreams are possible.” – Team Luna Chix
Rich and Scott discuss his race, his first Ironman, including a 15 minute negative split on the run!! – Endurance Nation Podcast
I gashed the bottom of my foot open on a rock, almost got puked on 4 times by athletes, was picking seaweed out of my hair for hours after, and nearly got seasick. AND. IT. WAS. AWESOME!!!!!! – Observations from a Volunteer
“This race will be the closest I will ever come to knowing what it’s like riding in the Tour de France. The fans lined the hills cheering and ringing their cow bells, which made for a great experience” – From Kristen Lodge
“I really can’t believe that this was the 12th year that I have raced Ironman Wisconsin. I thought about it in the water before the cannon sounded; some of the first races I did here felt like they were yesterday. Each year proves to be a time when I learn something else that I can apply to future races, with this year being no exception.” From pro racer and Madison resident, Blake Becker
“I went to Wisconsin with the sole goal of erasing those doubts in my mind. Of proving to nobody but myself that I could run a respectable marathon. I didn’t care about my place or my overall time, those things were all secondary. I just wanted to run well. I NEEDED to run well.” From the Trail of Miles
“The plan was to do one shot blok every 2 miles and drink Ironman Perform at every aid station. The first six miles went well. I ran through the Badger Stadium and screamed “WE ARE PENN STATE” which I am pretty sure was heard by no one.” From Alexa Harding
“This means I had to stop at the next penalty tent, write down my name and some details, sign a form and then go again.. About 45seconds worth but this is an age while you are watching the group ride away through the hills.” – From Simon Cochrane
“Things kept going from bad to worse, and I wondered if I might have to walk the rest of the race. I knew if I could at least keep jogging, I would still get a PR, but I saw my goal of a 3:40 run quickly slip out of reach.” From Luna Chick Runs
“I had a dream that I accidentally brought my mountain bike (which I don’t actually use in real life) instead of my tri-bike. And my dad and I had to build it minutes before the race started. And then a huge lightning storm came in and delayed the race. Other than that, I slept well.” – From Go Run Some
“Alarms were going off at 3:45am to the song I get knocked down but I get up again! It was time to race and the day I was thinking about for a year was finally here.” From Angela’s Antics
YouTube Report from Amy Friese
“The bike course was brutal. Hilly – up and down and quick turns – and never ending. And did I mention we had headwinds the ENTIRE 112 miles?!?! Ugh. I stopped at mile 56 at special needs to grab more sports drink and use the porta potty. The hills were brutal but the steepest hills were full of spectators and people cheering and on drums – it was like being in the Tour de France – I felt like a rock star and was having a blast!” – From Susan at I Am Tri
A story on the amazing Brent and Kyle Pease
“I am not simply surviving…. I am thriving. I have found a way to give back, to help, and really help. For this, I am eternally grateful. I am a cancer survivor, but I am much more than that. I am an athlete. I am an activist, an advocate.” – From Team Strutz – Wilkerson
“The main problem I had was that I couldn’t see the buoy’s very well. Because I started so far to the right of them, it took me a while to get close to them – and once I did, I actually ran into one of them at one point.” From http://spabbo.blogspot.com/
“I believe in triathlon. I believe it has transformative power, and I know that behind goals linked to the time of day are more important motives: it’s the expression of our best selves that make this day sacred.” From Iron Love
“We said some not so nice things to each other (we determined that on ironman day, all was said with love) and there were times that she kept going and I had to play catch-up as I was stopping to talk to a lot of people and giving hugs when I should have been running with her.” – From Beyond the Boobs: My Journey to Ironman Wisconsin
“Today I got out there and gave it a go at my 7th Ironman Wisconsin. Living only 1 block from the finish it is tough to miss this event, and it is the only opportunity all year to sleep in my own bed for a pro race. Leading up to the race I kept a steadfast line that “I was tired” and that was the truth.” From Thomas Gerlach, pro triathlete.
This was my first Half Ironman and my strategy played out almost perfectly. Coach has a mantra, swim to your ability, bike smart, and run like hell. That . . . is almost exactly what happened.
I spent quite a bit of time looking up information on Muncie. By all accounts the swim was fairly technical, the bike was fast, and the run was going to be hot. That too proved to be true.
Racer K and I pulled into town on Friday, registered at the convention center (why couldn’t this be at the race site?) then went out to the Prairie Creek Reservoir for a short swim, bike, run.
The water was right on the edge of being wetsuit legal, and felt a tad cold at first, but 200 yards into a warm up, it felt perfect. I definitely didn’t think we’d need a wetsuit, but would likely wear one for the advantage if legal.
Racer K and I had ridiculous challenges with directions all weekend and showed up late to the team meeting where about 12 athletes and coach were discussing strategy for the next day. Start as far left as you can on the swim and take a straight line to the red buoy. Same strategy on the return. It was counter-intuitive, but if we followed the buoy line, we would be swimming a longer distance.
We also talked about hopping other riders on the bike. Starting your 15 second pass by going right into their draft, then kicking out to pass them. This turned out to be a major part of my strategy, especially since my age group was one of the last to start the race (nearly one hour after the pros).
After that, we hit a pre-race meal at Olive Garden, which seemed a little questionable at the time, but turned out to be the perfect call for missing lunch and a state of famish. I ate three bowls of salad, salmon, broccoli, and maybe a half dozen bread sticks. I went back to the room and added a Powerbar for good measure. I fell asleep at 8 pm and woke up promptly at 10. It would be a predictably long night of tossing and turning, but all in all I felt rested when the alarm went off at 4:30.
Pre-Race
Nothing like walking around a hotel parking lot at 5 am that is full of triathletes strapping their bikes on cars. A year ago I thought this was crazy, now it’s kinda normal.
We had been holding our breath for a week as we looked at the extended forecast for Muncie. It was bordering on cool with lows in the 60’s and showers for much of the week before clearing and highs around 80. It seemed too good to be true. Even the water temperature was below normal, bordering on the possibility of making the race wetsuit legal.
I rode up with Racer K and we both hoped it would NOT be wetsuit legal, mainly because we didn’t want to make the decision. Obviously it would be an advantage, but we’ve been feeling good about our swim and thought it would level the field. We got a chance to swim the day before and it was perfectly fine without a wetsuit which also made us a little leery of overheating.
We pulled into the parking spot and the volunteers were all shouting, “The race is wetsuit legal.” It was still dark and a little cool, so I knew I would be joining nearly everyone else with a wetsuit that day.
The Swim –
It was an age group wave start and the pros launched at 7 am, but I would have plenty of time to relax before shoving off at 7:57. I actually heard the canon while I was sitting in a port-o-john.
I walked down to the swim exit and watched as the pros filed out of the water in around 30 minutes. Then I gazed at the throng of age groupers coming into shore at a ridiculous angle and promised myself I would take a different route by sighting off a tree about twenty yards LEFT of the swim exit.
The swim course at Muncie is basically an inverted triangle. 
I’ve added the red “x’s”, which are supposed to represent the location of the actual swim start and exits, along with red lines to show the proper angle to the first buoy and the swim exit. I’m estimating, but the distance from the red x to the first yellow buoy on the diagram is probably 50 yards, so logically you’d want to start at the red x and stay as straight as you can to the far red turn buoy. Well, this was my plan. About halfway to the turn I was rubbing shoulders with the yellow buoy line. I have no idea how it happened, but it did, and I’m sure it cost me at least 100 yards.
I had one major objective on this swim. Stay calm, and don’t over exert. By the time I reached the first turn (which seemed like an eternity) I was right on my game plan. I felt fresh and strong.
I took a perfect angle into the first turn and hit stride with no contact. In fact, I made very little contact the entire swim. The waves were spread about 3 minutes apart and the water was basically wide open. Especially on the outside where I pledged to stay.
The sun was in full force and sighting was a major challenge. When I circled the second red buoy for home I stopped briefly to pick out the tree I would be sighting on the way to shore, but there was a line of trees as far as the eye could see and they all looked the same height. The bright sun pierced my eyes like an interrogation lamp, and left me with only one option, stay as far away from the line of yellow buoys as possible until a kayaker swatted me back on course with their paddle.
This was the best strategy, but for some reason it was very hard to stay left. I kept drifting closer to the yellow line and would take hard left turns to correct my line. About halfway to shore I started to pick up the pace. I still didn’t have a clean line on my exit and it’s funny how your mind plays tricks on you. I KNEW the exit was 40 yards left of the line of buoys, but I saw nearly everyone hugging that line and thought, “Maybe they know something I don’t?”
I stayed strong on my line and about 300 yards from short picked up “my tree” and started hammering. I sighted every 3 or 4 strokes and finally even saw the archway for the exit. I was dead on it now! Tons of other people swam to my right and were doing much more work. I was pumped and put my head right on the target!
Three strokes, sight, three strokes, sight, three strokes, BAM! I swam right into a kayak! I looked up at that woman and said, “What the hell?” I was dead on the exit and she was right in my way. Maybe kayak interference is why coach said this was a technical course.
I tipped over her kayak (not really) and thrashed toward the shore. After what seemed like an entire day of swimming, I finally felt my hand scrape sand. I cautiously stood and jogged through the arch and up the hill where I was greeted by a group of three kids ready to strip my wetsuit. I laid back and they ripped it off in one big motion. I stood up to a little disorientation and staggered toward the bike. I was a bit delusional and seeing my coach Robbie leaning on the fence only made it worse.
“Good job, Mike, be smart on the bike!”
Robbie started about 40 minutes ahead of me and in the state of confusion my first thought was, “Is he already done?” I ran by him with a nod of the head, but it stayed on my brain as I got ready for the bike. Did I really just see him or was it a doppleganger?
Obviously it was something to do with an injury and for a couple minutes I was bummed. He had put in some serious work for this race and had a legit chance to qualify for Las Vegas. Later I’d learn that he came out of the water in 30 minutes and blew out his ankle on the run to his bike. That quickly, his day was over, but mine was not.
Swim time: 37:05
The Bike –
This would be my first real ride with a new bike fit, race wheels, and fancy new tires. Somewhere in my head all of that loomed large as I headed out of transition for a 56 mile ride around Prairie Creek neighborhood.
I didn’t wear a Garmin and had no speedometer on my bike. I was determined to go by feel and take my chances with a chrono watch.
I started a new lap when I got on the bike with a plan to ride each 5 mile segment of the first half at 20 mph (or 5 miles every 15 minutes). My first 5 mile split was something like 15:10 and felt like a breeze. That was a good sign.
I stayed within myself and constantly downshifted if I felt my legs pushing too hard. I wanted to spin more than push, especially on the way out. My ten mile split was around 30:10 and felt very natural. Till this point, the road was very tempting, but I held back with one goal. Stay consistent and save my legs for the run.
At mile 15 I was right on pace for 20 mph, then we hit a mile-long no-passing-zone, which slowed me way back. My first reaction was a tinge of anger, but I quickly decided everyone had to do it, so I might as well use it to recover. I loaded up on fluid and ate another chunk of my PowerBar.
The buzzword on the bike is nutrition. I kept hearing about all these crazy plans that take mad scientists to formulate, but I chose to keep mine very simple for this race. I had two PowerBars and I would take a bite every 5 miles. I did plan make a 50/50 water/Gatorade bottle, but forgot and stayed with water.
I “thought” two large bottles would be enough, but was very thirsty out of the swim and went through bottle number one before the 15 mile aid station. I made the decision to chuck one of my favorite water bottles and take a new one. I drank 3 bottles of water on the 56 mile ride, mainly out of paranoia and I think it was just a bit too much.
Anyway, once we left the no-pass zone we hit a ten-mile-ish out and back that was super bumpy and very congested. It was almost impossible to keep non-drafting zones and much of that section was coagulated by one bike coming at me, one in the middle and one on the right. Passing was difficult and a little nerve wracking at times.
But for my money, this was the difference in my bike time. The road sucked and it was easy to see that most racers were not crazy about this part and it challenged your mental toughness. I made a concerted effort to trust the road and not let up.
We hit the turn around and my split was almost exactly 20 mph (19:91). Now it was time to go to work.
I took the same approach, but upped my aggressiveness and passed a lot of people on that bumpy road. The bike felt great and my legs were strong. I started moving the needle to the other side of my 15 minute 5 mile splits and by the end was safely in the 21 mph average range.
A better time was definitely possible, but I was concerned for the run and frankly the congestion made you hold back often. It was probably a good thing.
Bike time: 2:43:39 (20.53 mph)
The Run –
As I hobbled out of T2, coach was there to remind me to “Keep the first two miles EASY!” I was happy to oblige, but as many of you will know, slowing your legs after the bike is a challenge.
About a half mile out of transition I realized I had to go to the bathroom, badly. As luck would have it, there was a port-o-let just across the road, through a ditch, and up on a hill. I looked at it, looked away, looked again, then darted across the road. It was a decision that didn’t sit well with me, but may have saved my run.
I’d reset my chrono lap when I left transition and when I got to mile one, it said 9:03. That included my run up a hill and going to the bathroom. Without that pit stop, my first mile would have likely been way too fast.
As I made my way through the first aid station I kept hearing coach’s advice, “Grab a ton of water, dump it on your head, grab ice when they have it, hold it in your hands, take sponges, put them in your tri top, get fuel, stock up. By the time I hit the end of the aid station my arms were full of merchandise. I was literally using my forearms to hold cups against my chest. Cups, sponges, ice, Bonk Breakers, you name it. Something had to give.
I started dumping water on my head, eating ice, and stuffing sponges everywhere. I was a mess and in my confusion I veered toward the center of the road and knocked over a trash barrel, sending cups flying all over the road. The volunteer looked at me like I was a maniac and all I could do was muster, “I’m sorry.”
The temperature wasn’t bad, but it was nearly noon and the road felt hot. At the mile two aid station I made a vow to train more often in my tri top because it was really bugging me at that point. Wearing a shirt that was tight and hot was not a feeling I was used to on runs.
From the start of the run I had a mild, sort of “on the verge” stomach cramp. It wasn’t that bad, but it lingered. I deduced it was from too much water, so I passed on fluids at mile 3 and four. By mile 5, I took a little more water and sucked on ice as I ran toward the turn around.
I never looked at my watch until I hit the mile markers and my goal was to keep at around an 8 minute mile pace. By the time I hit mile 6 I was at 49 minutes and some change. Almost perfect. My halfway split was an 8:10/mile pace. Now, to complete my plan, I’d have to pick it up a hair.
Mile 7 and 8 inched stayed near an 8:10 pace, but mile 9 proved to be the beginning of the end. The slight cramp remained and I tried the “Coca Cola trick” along with some Perform, but neither seemed to help.
Let’s make no mistake, the run will always be painful, but my biggest pain was an equipment issue. I love my shoes, but they were not cutting it now. The black top was very coarse and every step started to feel like hot spikes shooting through the sole of my Pearl Izumi Streaks. The soft and relatively thin rubber had me dreading each step. I was losing pace and knew my negative split was gone. Now, to finish strong and at least hit the prediction goal from my coach of 5:16 for the race.
Just after mile nine I quit looking at my watch. In fact, I quit looking at almost everything except the horizon. I purposely tried to miss the mile markers and hope I would magically look up expecting mile eleven and it would be twelve. I pulled out every mental trick in the book and focused on a very quick pick up so my feet wouldn’t hurt.
The course was surprisingly hilly, but none of the hills were that tough. The course in general was spread out around the reservoir and aside from the excellent aid stations I saw only a handful of supporters, which was about the only true gripe I can muster about this race.
There were several times during that run where my focus drifted and I thought I may crumble, but at mile 12 I finally believed I was going to hit my goal. One more 8 minute mile and I had it.
There was one point around mile 8 where you could hear the announcers voice teasing you from across the lake, but with a half mile left, I knew my name was soon to fill the air. What separates triathletes is often simply the will to fight through pain, and that the only thing on my mind as I turned off the road toward the finish. The minute I hit the Ironman carpet the pain drifted away. I glided toward the finish line with ease and finished my first 70.3 race in 5:16:49, exactly what my coach predicted.
Run time: 1:50:06 (53:39/56:27)
Every day I feel like triathlon is helping me build a closer connection with myself. It’s a subtle, slow, and genuine burn that inches its way deeper into my soul with every stroke, spin, and stride. It began by setting a nearly unfathomable goal, but has now transformed into a lifestyle. Not a triathlon lifestyle, but a more confident, clear, and defined picture of who I am. And the most exciting part is, I barely feel like I’ve scratched the surface.
If you’ve never raced a triathlon, or more specifically swam a mile in 58 degree water, it’s really hard to understand the feeling of running barefoot on cold concrete for nearly half a mile. Your feet are numb and you’d better get used to it because the rain isn’t stopping and you’re about to pedal your bike for 25 miles with no socks.
Everything was warm, except my feet and hands, both of which would be extremely important in the upcoming moments. I relished the brief respite from the rain in the covered transition area as I gathered my bearings and decided what to wear or omit for my bike ride. The arm warmers were a lock (thanks, coach) but the knee warmers stayed in the bag. The helmet went on, I grabbed my bike, then ran it toward the bike exit. About halfway there I realized I was holding and not wearing my gloves. This was a problem. I stopped and tried to pull gloves onto my freezing hands and it was a total OJ moment. “The gloves didn’t fit.” I stood there for what seemed like several minutes as tons of racers blew by and my bike slid around my body like an oblong hula hoop.
All told, the run from the swim, the bike prep, and the glove fiasco took roughly six and a half minutes. The whole time, I was afraid to look at my feet.
But it’s moments like this when I try to think of something inspiring, and any time I feel sorry for myself for being cold I think of one man: Ernest Shackleton.
I’ve said it before, but if you’re into adventure, you have to read a book called, Endurance: Shackleton’s Incredible Voyage. Not only is it a great adventure book, it may be the most engaging grouping of words I’ve ever laid eyes on. “Simply Brilliant” says Crushing Iron blogger, Mike Tarrolly.
Here are a few Shackleton quotes to chew on:
“Difficulties are just things to overcome, after all.”
“I seemed to vow to myself that some day I would go to the region of ice and snow and go on and on till I came to one of the poles of the earth, the end of the axis upon which this great round ball turns.”
“After months of want and hunger, we suddenly found ourselves able to have meals fit for the gods, and with appetites the gods might have envied.”
“We had seen God in His splendors, heard the text that Nature renders. We had reached the naked soul of man.”
I mean, come on! This dude did not fuck around with exploring. “Endurance” is about an expedition to the South Pole with like twenty five guys who signed up simply for the adventure. Shackleton posted this ad in the paper to find his crew:
MEN WANTED for hazardous journey, small wages, bitter cold, constant danger, safe return doubtful, honor and recognition in case of success.
And you know what? He turned men away!
That book has helped me many times. Having cold feet is a metaphor when you try to envision what Shackleton and his men endured.
So, I finally looked and my feet were a similar hue to how I imagine them looking in my casket one day. I closed my eyes and thought of Shackleton (in the middle of winter, bobbing his way in an undersized wooden boat through the most deadly sea in the world wearing little more than a sweat shirt) and jumped on my Trek triathlon bike to ride in a misting rain along nicely paved streets in Knoxville, Tennessee.
I honestly don’t remember much of the bike leg (maybe that’s why I’m harping on the Shackleton thing . . . although, I seriously cannot recommend that book enough) but I do know it was an amazing course. It started along the river, swung up through a business district, dipped onto a major highway, then headed into the beautiful Knoxville hills. On a sunny day, the scenery would have been spectacular.
I think only two things could have gone better for me on the bike (aside from having race wheels). One was a situation where I was coming down the longest hill and could have really been cooking, but a car got in the way. There were also bikes in front of him, so he rode his breaks down the entire hill. We were probably going 20 mph and that could have easily been 28, but there was nothing I could do. I waited about a half mile until he finally turned off, clearing my way for another climb.
The other thing I did wrong was not listen to my coach and hammer the climbs. His logic was clear, “It’s wet, the course is pretty technical and you’ll be breaking a lot on the downhills.” I probably could have climbed harder and recovered on the descents. Lesson learned.
The last half mile was the same flat road along the river and I cruised in around 24 mph. I felt great, but my legs had joined my feet in the world of numb appendages. How do your legs and feet function when you can’t feel them? I can hear Shackleton laughing in my face.
I forgot to start my watch again and haven’t figured out my speedometer, so I had no idea how long the bike took, but I knew it was pretty solid. I started the bike in 141st place out of 355 total racers and ended in 100th. Average speed was 20 mph and the total time was 1:15 for 25 miles.
I dismounted my bike with one shoe still clipped on the pedal and one on my left foot, which made for a clumsy stroll through transition, especially on frozen feet, but the good news was . . . I’d get to run a 10k next!
This is Part 2 of my Nashvegas Triathlon experience, the bike. The intro is the last paragraph of Part One, the Swim, which can be found here.
My bare feet glided down the slick pavement. The rain continued and I was suddenly freezing. I couldn’t believe God would put me through this and scurried to the bike transition in a daze. I ran up to my row and looked down for my distinct white towel, but it was gone. What the fuck? I ran back and forth like a kid protecting his lunch money and completely lost my mind for the third time of the day. Part of my strategy was minimalist and fast transitions. Shoes . . . socks . . . helmet . . . gone. But the only thing gone, was my bike.
Of course it was there and I retraced my steps and saw the lonely vessel crying in the rain along with my soaking wet shoes and socks. Damn! Why didn’t I think of that one? Not that it mattered. I made the split second decision to bike without socks. I never thought about it ahead of time but it was clearly the right decision. As I ran my bike out of its pen, I saw my screaming fan base and heard Heidi shout, “Wow, that was fast.” Maybe I was in a time warp. Transition one – 1:45. Not too bad.
As I pulled away in the rain, my thought instantly transferred to the run. I would be running sockless for the first time. Then I thought about the pelting rain and how much this whole race was sucking balls at the moment. I turned out of the park and headed for the Ashland City hills with the perfect competitive attitude. Alone on a bike, soaking wet after a miserable swim, I yelled, “Fuck it!” and was instantly unstoppable.
One of my sure-fire strategies is to get mad at the world, David versus Goliath style, and embrace the obstacles. In this case I knew the rain would fuck with people’s heads, make them cold and take away their edge, but mine was only sharpened.
While most triathletes ride with clipped pedals, I wore cages. It is a distinct disadvantage that I used for motivation.
I took my time as I glided down Highway 12 on the flat section of the course. I passed several bikers, but kept myself in check for the long ride. I drove the course the day before and knew that while the course was 25 miles, the last five were down hill. I turned it into a 20 mile ride.
The first 10 were cake, but when the Olympic course turned of, the hills loomed. The first challenge was a steady two mile climb that started around mile 12. It weaved through the back roads of Ashland City and eventually dropped us into a makeshift sub-division that looked (and felt) like a disturbing place to spend your life.
With a 10K lurking, I didn’t want to burn the legs. I spun low gears and climbed at a moderate clip. The rain lightened, but the roads were like oil. I channeled Tour de France riders while imagining throngs of hungry fans grabbing for a taste of me. Unfortunately the Ashland City populous had other plans that morning, though I did see one guy mowing his lawn and a couple dogs.
I always find the trust factor impressive at these races. At one point the bike course turned down a lonely country road and spun around about 200 feet from a true scene out of Deliverance. I saw it the day before when I missed the turn. It was a home so disheveled that I was afraid to approach the driveway for fear of staring at a shotgun. I mean this place was literally covered in shit that nobody on earth would want, except this guy. Just garbage and filth everywhere. Broken windows, car parts, fallen trees, I mean, I can’t even explain it and I was going to take a picture, but figured that was a bad idea as well and got the hell out of there.
But back to the honesty. There was a simple cone in the middle of this road and it was the turn around point. The cone sat in solitude and I could have easily swerved inside the mark to cut a couple feet off, or for that matter turned around in the middle of the block. No one was there, and I assumed it was because of Deliverance guy.
I felt good and kept spinning my way back to town. I guessed there were 8 miles left and the last five would be like a bobsled course. I kicked it in gear, pounding my way through the curves like Lance on ‘roids before I was rudely interrupted by a line of pick-up trucks waiting to turn onto “my” course. I swerved around the gaggle of trucks and was oddly happy to see a cop waving me through to the main road, where more cars were waiting to make my blast down the mountain a nightmare.
Cars and more cars. All going shopping or whatever cars do on Saturday morning in Ashland City. They had no idea there was a race going on and I felt it was my duty to let them know.
I took over the lane as I saw the crest of the hill and prepared to scream downward. I flew past a couple bikers sipping water and hammered the biggest gears. I went to my lower grip and attacked the wet and windy road at 30 mph. Speed picked up and I nearly lost it when my palm slipped off the wet handle bars. One more mile to go and I didn’t let up, until . . . I saw the traffic.
Who were these people flooding the streets at 9:30 Saturday morning. McDonalds, Walmart, Walgreens, all sucking the life out of people who moved to Ashland City to get away from such filth, but now they were trapped. Lifelong country folk losing their roots to corporate America. But worse, I had to negotiate through this mess.
At the bottom of the hill, another friendly officer waved me to the left. Back onto the main road for a white knuckle battle with hundreds of shoppers, all clueless to the biggest race of my life. I bobbed and weaved to safety then leaked down the right hand shoulder of the road with literally a foot between me and car mirrors. No support, no signs, no friendly cops. I thought I was lost and battled traffic like a New York bike courier with nothing to deliver except a fading dream.
My thin tire hugged the edge of the slick black top and I turned sideways to squeeze by the last pick-up blocking my way to glory. I turned right and peddled down the exit street, drenched, cold, and convinced I laid down a good ride. Official time was 1:20:35, nearly 20 mph.
