Ironman Canada 2011 Race Report

For those of you who prefer movies over books (or perhaps both), i first offer the following video race report.  Click the play icon to jump in.  A high-def version is also available via my Facebook page.



For more technical details, please read on.

Ironman Florida 2008 was meant to be my one and only full IM, so why did i sign up for a second?  The time and energy demands would be large, the unpredictable mix of suffering and joy would surely test my will, and the idea of training for one year for a single race, well, OK, i apparently like it.  So, once friends decided to sign up for some big 2011 races, i felt like this was the year, if ever.

Without a doubt, this season has been the closest i've experienced to training and racing with a team since college cross country and it was a blast.  Huge thanks to Jodi, the Fab 5, the IMC crew, and all the other training buddies who have pushed me forward this year.

After putting in a solid winter of base training, getting stronger through the Spring, sharpening skills during the final few months in races like 70.3 Kansas and the Omaha Tri, suddenly it was time to pack and make the drive to Penticton.

So, enough about how i arrived at the starting line.  Let's get to what went down on race day.

Thanks to a modified version of Jodi's checklist, i was organized and we were ready to make the dark walk from the B&B to the transition area on time.  Found our way in, got body marked, added last minute contents to our gear bags, and headed to our bikes.  Pumped tires, computer on and reset, 9 gels taped to frame, drinks caged, check.  Found a short line for Porto-ps then waited briefly before donning our wetsuits.  Morning clothes dropped off, headed to beach.  Once my toes hit that sand, the impending reality of the day hit and i felt ready for the challenge.

A volunteer hustled by carrying a bewildered duck that was waddling around the crowded transition area and set it afloat near the starting line. O Canada was sung (twice?) and i soaked it all in: athletes still pouring in to the wide, sandy starting area, now approaching nearly 2,900 making for the largest IM start ever.  Just like Kona, each discipline is one loop, so you couldn't clearly see the end of the swim buoys but you knew they were there.  This day would be a lot about faith.  The cheers from the crowd mixed with blurred words from the announcer mixed with helicopter chatter.  Suddenly, the cannon.  Actually i don't even know if there was a cannon this time, but there was a boom of adrenaline and a roar from the crowd.  54 weeks of training was over.  i was living the dream... again.

As i waded forward, i took one last look down the beach to see the mass of black wetsuits starting to turn the water white with foam.  The duck was out of sight.  Time to join the herd in the migration.  i dove in.

For me, there are two points in a triathlon that are like slipping into a dream: the first few minutes of the swim and the final few steps leading to the finish line.  As the cool water filled my wetsuit, i moved my arms like i had for thousands of laps in the pool, only this pool effectively had no such borders.  Imagine driving on a highway that happened to be a hundred lanes wide but jammed with cars -- a road without lane lines -- in a severe thunderstorm, wearing tight goggles, at dawn, and it is a race.  Thankfully, Jodi's suggestion to take the inside path proved wise and it saved me from any major collisions.  While i rarely felt in a position to either draft or get fully clear of the crowds, i still found my way around the lake for a decent swim.

Running up the beach through the swim finish arch felt good.  Really good.  Right where i wanted to be: out of the water with no damage and in the top third of the field.  After a fist pump to the photographer, i plopped down to get the bottom half of my wetsuit ripped off by volunteers with such force that i felt about to be slingshot-ed by my ankles high over the transition area.  Instead, i shuffled there and grabbed my swim-to-bike bag, dumped it out, grabbed my helmet, shoes, this, that, found my bike and clip-clopped the long jog out to the mount line to start my rolling picnic in the mountains.

Downtown Penticton was soon behind me and Skaha Lake was its usual brilliant blue.  Now at the base of the first mini-climb -- a winding 1KM up McLean Creek Rd. --  i took nothing from the crowded, first aid station and thankfully picked nothing else up on this part of the course, namely: furniture tacks.  i had heard talk of locals tossing these frustrating obstacles here, but had forgotten to keep an eye out.  It wasn't until i started seeing an abnormal amount of flat tires that i realized the sad legend was perhaps true.  As i meandered through Okanagan Falls countryside, i felt bad for those already holding tires above their head, but Osoyoos was calling.

i should take this time to contrast the bad apples with the good.  From my point of view, the town of Penticton fully embraced this event.  We were made to feel quite welcome and the race was center stage.  Add to that the approximately 4,500 volunteers (quite nearly 2 for every competitor) and we were well taken care of.

As i flew south and turned not far from the US-Canada border, my average speed was at 21.4mph, not bad for a runner.  That would change for everyone shortly as we were now at the base of Richter Pass, where the official course description states, "...from this point the course becomes more difficult."  The 11 km climb up dropped my average speed but the burn in my legs was manageable.  i don't mind hills.  Still, the goal was to stay in the saddle and keep the heart rate as low as possible.  At the top of the climb, the crowds were thick and loud in a mini-Tour de France style.  It was hard to not hammer and pass everyone.  Just like that, first climb done.

Now, the descent.  i will amend my earlier statement and say i don't mind climbing hills as i don't have much experience flying down them.  Thankfully a slight headwind kept my top speed to 40mph and my knuckles only became a slight shade of white.  At the bottom my reward was a roller coaster of 7 challenging "rollers" and somewhere in here (around 75 miles) was a little out-and-back where the special needs bags waited.  i spotted Jodi -- who, with her fast swim and transition was now about 5 minutes ahead of me -- and was able to wave and yell an "i love you."  It was also here that i realized it was hot.  It had been in the 90'sF for days and race day would be the hottest of our stay.  We didn't anticipate this but we had trained in the heat and humidity for months, so just needed to throttle our expectations.

One more major climb to go, up to Yellow Lake.  As i spun up this part of the mountain i remember wondering if i would be able to run a marathon after this effort on the bike.  i quickly replaced that fear with the knowledge that all i had to do was make it to about the 93-mile mark and the final 17 or so miles would be a relatively easy descent back to transition, despite the headwind...and the heat.  Normally by this time in a long ride, my back pain is so bad that i am very ready to leave my bike on the side of the road, but i was not going to let it stop me today.  i was actually having a ton of fun.  This gorgeous valley with its vineyards and orchards and bountiful natural beauty was energizing me.  That plus pure adrenaline.  And caffeinated gels.  And PBJ sandwiches.  Yes, i had nailed my nutrition and felt ready to run.  And, whoa, now i liked flying down mountains too.  And i was going to snag my goal of breaking six hours in the saddle.  5:58:51, to be exact, and just about in the top 25% overall.  Still feeling good.

After my last full IM bike i was barely able to feel my feet, so i made an effort this time around to be kinder to them by strategically shifting my weight at times, wiggling my toes often, and hoping for the best.  During that final descent on the bike i realized that the front half of my foot was sound asleep and let me know with stabbing pain that it did not want to wake up.  Still, by T2 i was able to hand my bike off and walk to find my bike-to-run bag without much trouble.  After a quick transition, i was off to tackle the final 26.2 miles.

During a quick out-and-back on Lakeshore, i saw Jodi again.  More smiles and encouragement.  She was now but a couple minutes ahead.  Reaching into my pocket, i took stock of the food left over from the bike.  Not much except for an extra bag of Trader Joe's PB-filled pretzels.  i couldn't stomach eating them, so i licked the salt of off each morsel.  i chased that with some gel and a sports drink and made my way out of town, back to Skaha Lake.

i started doing the math.  Could i possibly PR on such a tough course on such a tough day?  It was really hot now and there would be very little shade on the run.  i settled in to a pace that would get me to a sub-4 marathon and a memorable time.  i tucked the bursts of adrenaline these thoughts gave me into the back of my mind.  Stay steady; keep moving.

As the miles passed by one by one, i could see i was getting closer to Jodi, little by little.  Suddenly, i didn't see her.  Where did she... "David! David! David!" came the yell from a slightly opened porto-P.  This caught me off-guard as Jodi didn't stop for anything.  i jogged a few steps, trying to decide what to do.  i wanted to wait for my wife -- the person who endured, laughed, dreamed, and worked so hard by my side all year long -- but my goal time, my PR, what about that?  She exited the plastic booth like Superwoman and we were back running, but she let me know that the rest of her day wouldn't be easy.  Perhaps her bike nutrition didn't go exactly as planned; she had major bio problems but would do her best.

i knew then we would go the rest of the way together, whatever it might bring, and i was so happy that we had a chance to finish side-by-side.  So, we set off on our romantic run/jog/walk over the final 15 miles.  There were times where i wouldn't have faulted Jodi one bit for calling it quits, but she stayed strong and hung in.  The pain was eased by so many shouts of encouragement from spectators.  Now and then we held hands as we walked, and since we were also wearing matching race gear, it was clear that we were together and loving every moment.  A group of screaming, cowbell clanging supporters would suddenly break into a chorus of "Awwwww," or a volunteer would remark, "Now that is true love."  It was an unexpected blessing.  We forgot all about time goals, and, well, not really.  We were still doing the math.  We walked to an aid station, then picked something in the distance to run to.  We really wanted to break 13 hours despite it all.  We ran a little more, and 12 and 1/2 hours became the goal.  Push.  Push.  Crowds growing larger, louder.  More smiles.  The finish line was near.

When i was young, i had dreams of finishing "Ironman."  Here i was now, moments away from finishing my second, squeezing the hand of my beautiful wife, as she finished her fifth.  There was no reason to fight the tears.  The joy was a river, carrying us home.  "Here comes David Seevers," yelled the announcer.  "And it looks like we also have Jodi Seevers!"  Yes, yes we do.  12 hours, 20 minutes, 6 seconds.  We did it.  Together.

It was an incredible experience for the two of us, but i cannot stress enough how blessed we were by so many of you this year.  You trained with us, encouraged us, left us happy comments on Facebook, made us feel so special and thankful for the amazing people who surround us.  We love you all.

Ironman 70.3 Kansas Race Report

Ironman 70.3 Kansas -- a 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, and 13.1 mile run -- was a disappointing and humbling effort on my first try in 2008.  My time was 5 hours, 52 minutes and 33 seconds and left me in the medical tent sipping on IVs.  Sure it was a hot day, but my main take-away was that i needed to focus on eating and drinking whether i felt like it or not.

While i am three years older, my training has been going well and i am wiser, right?  So, how would my 2011 attempt go?  First things first.

Lots of items on the checklist that need to be completed in the days before a race.  A random one is readying a flat kit, just in case.  For me the object was to put it all tucked away nicely where i'd not notice it unless i really needed it.  So, behind the seat went a tightly rolled tubular tire, CO2, CO2 chuck, tire levers, razor blade (to help with removal of the damaged tire), and a bottle of Pit Stop (a Plan A measure that fixes and seals punctures with foam sealant).  Sure one could put this all in a seat bag, but that extra weight might cost me a couple seconds on the bike leg (ha).  Plus, i enjoy the challenge of fitting the gear into place with electrical tape.  This was the result.  Flat Kit Scientists like Linsdey Heim or Jodi Seevers may appreciate that i saved on tape by strategically using the tire levers to hold the mass onto my water bottle cage.  Others may notice the wear and tear in my heavy, less than aero, but very comfortable bike seat.  Yes i sometimes feel like i am cruising down the road sitting on the living room couch, but oh my is it worth it!  Anyway, check-ity check check.  Flat kit in place.  Everything packed.

We drove to the KC area Friday afternoon and stayed the night with the always hospitable John, Tammy, & Eric Seevers while Alicia was kind enough to watch over Sweet T at home.  Saturday brought us to Lawrence to check in and get a quick test ride on the bike before leaving them in the sweltering transition area.  Dinner at Paisano's with the rest of the athletes and friends who made the trip from the Big O was followed by an early bedtime.

Before our eyes closed, however, we took one last look at the radar.  The forecast was for an 80% chance of severe storms overnight and race morning.  This would mean that our bikes could get pummeled by hail as they rested unprotected in transition and that the race could be delayed, miserable, dangerous, or even cancelled.  i woke up a couple times in the wee hours with a horrible attitude.  i wanted to race but not if they converted the race to a duathlon due to lightning.  And i didn't want anyone to get hurt so that possibility just put a sour note into my pre-race dreams.  Fortunately i fell back asleep in short time and woke up to a dry parking lot outside the motel.  One bullet dodged.

Up and at 'em in the dark and headed to our campsite that we used only as a parking spot.  Very worth it as it saved us time and energy on race morning.  Thank you, Gina Morkel for organizing those!  As we made final preparations to our transition areas (separate spots for T1 and T2), lightning appeared on the horizon and storms appeared imminent.  In fact, race directors hurried people into the lake and compressed the time between start waves.  As we made one last trip to the port-o's, the pros we already off and splashing.  Gotta hurry!

Wet suits on, farewell hugs given, and the color coded capped herd gradually entered the now choppy depths of Clinton Lake.  Michelle B, Steve, Sara, Bob, Jodi, Craig, Gina, Kevin, Paul, and i were now doing our best fish impressions with many others, but the sea was angry, my friends.  Half-way out there was a small jig east and the waves felt higher than my only ocean race swim leg, plus they were not as predictable.  Once those watery mountains were climbed, we turned back north toward the distant beach and staying on course and not gulping in water was an unexpected challenge.  Still, i was glad that the storms had somehow skirted the area and the wind was the only related challenge.  i kept my eyes on the swim finish chute and pulled the best i could.  Soon my feet were beneath me and i was flying into T1.  Swim split was not what i was hoping for at 40:55, but still faster than 2008 and most of us age groupers seemed to have a lower than expected effort in the water.

Jodi, whose starting wave had gone off 6 minutes (i believe) behind mine climbed out of the drink in 36:42.  i suffered a rookie mistake of briefly struggling to get my wetsuit over the timing chip on my ankle and it was enough for Jodi to catch me as i went to grab my bike to hit the road.  She and Landshark would be chomping on my heels in a hurry, i feared.  Well, i looked forward to seeing her, but there was no time to think.  Go go go.  That's Jodi pictured at right with her shoes clipped to her bike at T1 exit, a skill i must practice before employing it any time soon.

A solid hill greeted us immediately on the bike and some rollers out of the park followed.  After that it is a bit of a blur.  For me, it seems the cycling leg usually is.  i know there were many hills, that there was wind, and that it was crowded enough so that a nearly constant effort had to be made to not inadvertently get a drafting penalty.  On the other hand, i'm pretty sure that Jodi was smiling up and down the entire course.

At 35 miles i remember thinking how hungry i was and that i was ready for this leg to be over.  Red flag!  Time to eat!  Now!  i shoveled in whatever my hand hit in my pockets -- gel, PBJ, Nuun, Grape Rehydrate.  Lots of it.  That was a key moment for me.  Had i not paid attention to my body there, my run may have been uncomfortable at best.  i saw Jodi a few times while on two wheels, but not too many others.  Basically i was just trying to stay upright and get to the run.  Somehow i kept ahead of Jodi, which made me both sad and happy.  i wanted to ride a bit with her, but i also now had a 70.3 bike PR of 2:53:38.  My new, used HED3 wheels helped (at right, yellow helmet), i am sure, but Jodi pushing me hard for years was the difference.  Thanks, my love!  Speaking of, Jodi hit T2 with a bike split of 3:00:09.  It was maybe not her fastest ride ever, but quicker than 2008 and i am proud of her.

As i approached the very end of the bike, i heard Paul Crisman yell out my name, so i knew he was already on the half-marathon course.  That encouraged me as i was hoping i might be fast enough to be able to work together with him on the run.  A fairly quick T2 and i was off and running.  My legs were moving a little too fast, thinking they were still on the bike, but it wasn't until 2 miles in that i decided i should attempt to slow down a bit.  Mile 1 was 7:09, then 7:20, then 7:37.  OK, slow enough.  But wait, is this still too fast?  Just keep going.  i stuck with one runner almost the entire first loop, settling in to around a 7:33 pace.  Heading into the final loop, i was feeling surprisingly good and just kept after it.  i saw a 7:18, then a 7:06, so i backed off a little again, saving up for a solid finish.  Somewhere in there i passed Paul who was battling some serious cramps.  As i pulled away, he said "if you are feeling it, then go for it!"  Thanks, man, that gave me huge confidence.

Doing the math i my head (it always passes time for a few miles), i knew i'd have a PR.  Wait, i might beat 5 hours 30 minutes.  i kept sailing through the miles and then realized i had a shot at my "A" goal of 5:27:30.  Then with 3 miles to go, my legs felt on the heavy side, but my "A+" goal (5:21:22) danced around in my head.  i checked my math and now had 5:20 in my sights... 5:19... 5:18... come on, move move move!  Seeing Jodi and so many other athletes and supporters around the course kept me very inspired and i charged through every aid station, refueling at top speed.  There would be no IVs this year.  No storms.  No question: my hard work had paid off.  i crossed the line in 5 hours, 17 minutes and felt great.  My half marathon time was pleasing at 1:37:00.

A small dose of reality greeted me at the finish line in the form of dizziness and nausea, but i bid it adieu quickly as it wasn't welcome at this party.  i was given my medal and grabbed some fluid and waited for Jodi.  Her welcoming smile and hugs were the highlight of my Ironman Florida day, so i hoped to return the favor soon.  Sure enough, there she was flying down the yellow brick road finishing chute.  Her run split was 1:41:33, a quick half-Mary if you ask me, and a solid finishing time of 5:22:03.

i am so proud of you, my beautiful, fast wife!  What an amazing blessing to be able to train and race together.  Make no mistake, it is rarely easy.  Many sacrifices are made.  But in the end, reaching as one for our high goals and smiling as we go is a dream come true.

We hugged a sweaty hug or two and got our wits about us.  We then searched the crowd for the rest of our courageous tri group, congratulating those who had already finished and cheering home those still out on the course.  We all overcame.  We all finished.  And i am so proud of every one of you.  For some of us, this might be our last triathlon.  For others (and this means you, especially, Michelle R!), there are adventures still ahead.

Great job everyone, and continued good luck as you tackle the rest of your 2011 racing goals.  And thanks, too, to all of those who support us on and off the course.  We couldn't do it without you.

Pain

Pain. Paaaaaiiiiin. PAIN. (pain.) Always lingering. Sometimes excruciating. It tries to wear me down, break my spirit, keep me from achieving my fitness goals, making life just a little tougher.

i'm not talking about the discomfort and frustration from the occasional knee pain, hamstring pull, or stress fracture.  These are bad, but i can deal with them.  They are concrete, solvable problems.

My "back 'n' neck pain" which has been getting progressively worse for several years is a bit of a mystery.  Despite the best efforts of a myriad of sports medicine practitioners, physical therapists, chiropractors, and other doctors, i have no relief.  Only pain.

Now please do not misunderstand me.  i lead an easy life.  i am very blessed.  My pain is a grain of sand compared to what so many others have to go through.  And yet i feel i need to write at least a few sentences about it.  i have heard chronic pain can lead to depression.  i wonder what it will be like in ten or twenty years if this isn't solved soon.

i dream of what a pain-free day would be like.  i would have more energy, run a little faster, bike a little longer, smile more, breath more deeply.

It feels a little selfish, really.  Most people have a significant challenge or two or four.  Many of those have a choice to let it stop them from going after life.  As time goes by it gets a little harder for me to choose a triathlon lifestyle, but i am surrounded by people who choose to fight and get after it the best they can.

Whether it is swimming, biking, running; being a great spouse, parent, friend; doing one's best at work; so many of you overcome so much and still shine.  Your inspiration is what helps me most with my pain right now.  Thanks.

Ironman Florida 2008: A Flashback

i started this blog after finishing my first full Ironman triathlon, so i never got a chance to describe the day.  The following rights that wrong.  It is not a full race report, but a copy of an e-mail that i wrote to family and friends a few days after the race.

After the recap, you can also find a very short video of Jodi and i (26 minutes after Jodi) crossing the finish line.

Enjoy...

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Everyone,

i'm walking again, even up and down stairs! i want to thank all of you for your encouragement, both in recent e-mails (fun to read as my body healed) and in person over the past several months and even years. It took a ton of hard work to get to the starting line, but i never would have been able to slide on my goggles or lace up my running shoes if not for the support of so many of you, including folks not on this thread but who are forever in my heart. i appreciate and cherish every kind word and helping hand.

By request, race recap:

* Pre-race: Kept waiting to get nervous but somehow never did. The training was done. Detailed checklists ensured there were no surprises on race day. All gear was exactly where it needed to be. 8 gels taped to bike frame. PBJ sandwiches, salt tabs, bars, more gels, more everything all set. Up at 3am for power smoothie and first to the race site by 4am. Final adjustments made to bike, shared good luck wishes with strangers, slid wetsuit on, headed for the beach and waited for the national anthem. Ready for battle. Tip: It's dark at 4am, especially in a PortaPotty. Headlamp invaluable.

* Swim: Starting cannon fired right next to me, caught a little shrapnel. Was definitely awake now. Good water conditions. Stingray and jellyfish below but no sharks (that i saw). 2200 triathletes flying through the salty water felt like a cross between swimming with a huge pod of dolphins and a stampeding herd of buffalo. Very primal, very intense. Survival. The water was clear so one could face guard in order to get kicked and punched in the arms rather than in the head. It worked for the most part. One loop done. A quick run on the beach and a drink of water, then back in for more boxing/swimming. Didn't kick at all during final stretch to conserve legs. Somehow swam 4 minutes faster than i thought i could. Tip: As you are running over the first couple waves, just before diving in to the deeper stuff to take the first stroke, look back at the beach through the white water spray and the rest of the athletes. Awesome.

* Transition 1: Ran up beach, felt fairly fresh. Found a clear spot and before my butt hit the ground two volunteers helped my rip the wetsuit off over my feet to save time and my somewhat tired arms. Helmet on. Shoes on. Go go go.

* Bike: Decided to leave arm warmers behind, so first 30 miles were on the chilly side. Settled in, sipping lots of water to start and broke into solid food around 45. Was holding over 19mph, which was significantly faster than any of my 100 mile training rides, so wondered if i was moving too fast, but legs OK so just stuck with it. Grabbed my special needs bag -- filled with extra food and drink -- at around 60 miles, slung it around my shoulder and enjoyed a fast stretch of highway before turning into the wind and some rougher patches. Just tried not to crash and hoped against hope for no flat tires. Soon i was back with the wind and getting even faster. 5 hours and 44 minutes flew by. i was thrilled with my time but very ready to say goodbye to the bike. Tip: Do not miss the special needs bag. Stop if you have to. A teammate missed his and he lost 26 pounds during the race.

* Transition 2: Hopped off the bike and grabbed my transition bag. Tried to run in bike shoes but was awkward. Grabbed curb and went barefoot for the run to the transition tent and it felt like i had no feet. Found a chair, pulled on my running shoes and visor, tucked more nutrition in my pockets and headed out for the marathon.

* Run: Felt surprisingly smooth as i settled in. Latched on to one person who i felt had a good pace until about 10 miles. Took my turn in "the lead" and at the halfway point was on a pace for a 3:40 marathon. Knew i only had to run 9s to break 11 hours and that was 2 hours faster than my original goal so I allowed myself a smile. Somewhere after 16 miles my legs got goofy and i started to spin. It was very hard to let that perfect race go, but suddenly my new goal was just to finish and avoid the medical tent for once. Started doing the math and hoped to break 12 hours. Walked 50 steps, ran 100 steps, repeat, repeat, repeat. Kept eating, mostly bananas and coke now. Some chicken broth. Pretty sick of gels by this point. Somewhere around mile 22 i rallied and was back to all running. Watching the sun set over the ocean, i knew now i would finish and that there would even be a little daylight left. At mile 25 i could hear the party at the finish line and i started to float on air.

Turning the final corner, finish line in sight, tears mixed with sweat. A lifetime of running around the planet, biking up and down mountains, swimming in endless circles, lifting heavy objects, overcoming injury and life's many challenges, just finding a way... it was all crescendoing at a line painted in the middle of a road in Florida... And then -- 41 years (give or take), 11 hours, 19 minutes, and 8 seconds later -- my arms were instinctively raised, the finish tape across my chest. i closed my eyes for a moment and when they opened, Jodi -- who had finished her fourth Ironman 26 minutes before me -- was there with arms out, wearing the biggest smile i'd ever seen, screaming at the top of her lungs, "David Seevers -- YOU are an Ironman!" All i could think was, "How can i be this blessed?" Tip: Just keep moving.

Lesson learned: If a goal seems impossible, set that goal high anyway because you can do way more than you think you can do.

Race pictures posted in a few weeks on Facebook.

Again, thanks from the bottom of my running shoes. Your inspiration means the world to me.

dave

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Finally, here is that video of our finishes.  It was a great day...

Ironman Nutrition: Just How Many Calories Will I Need?

Over the past several weeks i have been using a calorie counting site called My Fitness Pal to keep track of what i am putting into my body.  It has been a powerful tool in making sure that i am getting enough proper calories to power my training.

But what about on race day?  At my first half-Iron triathlon in 2008 i did only a fair job at keeping up with the nutritional requirements of such an endeavor and the last half of the run was not fun.  i ended up in the medical tent.  Later that year at my first full Iron i did a much better job and had almost a perfect race nutritionally.  In the picture at left you can see me right after i picked up my special needs bag about halfway through the bike leg.  In it i could put whatever i want.  i hardly remember but i'm sure there was extra gel, PBJ sandwiches, pretzels, energy chews, and the like.  This leg is often called a rolling buffet and its purpose is to get as many calories as one can stomach before the more gut wrenching run is at hand.

How many total calories did i consume that day?  No idea.  How many should i consume during my next Iron challenge?  No idea.  So i should probably have a plan, no?  Yes.  Let's get to it.

The harder i push during the race, the sooner i can get to the line for a slice of pizza and some ginger ale, but until then it'll be a losing battle trying to keep up.  Twelve hours (i hope) of vigorous effort will require so much more than i'll be able to ingest, but why not try to get as close as possible?  So what might that look like?

Let's say that for my age, sex, weight, fitness level, etc. that my normal metabolic burn for twelve hours (hope hope!) is 760 calories.  That is just a guess, but so is all of this.  Still, better than nothing.  Next, if i search around for some online calculators and average them all out, maybe i will burn 820, 4500, and 3000 calories in the swim, bike, and run legs respectively.  That all adds up to 9,080 calories.

9,080 calories could be replaced by one of the following:
1) 82 chocolate chip cookies,
2) 65 bowls of Breyer's Oreo Cookies and Cream Ice cream,
3) 29 pieces of  Deep Dish Pepperoni Pizza from Gino's East of Chicago, OR
4) 9 Chipotle Barbacoa Burritos with Rice, Black Beans, Tomato & Green Salsa, Cheese and Sour Cream.

i'm having some cravings.  Moving on...

Trying to be more realistic, how many PowerBar Strawberry Banana gels would i need?  At 110 calories a shot, it'd be 82.  Seems like i'd enjoy the aforementioned cookies a little more.  i do remember in 2008 taking 1 before the swim, 9 on the bike, and maybe 5 on the run.  That gets me "only" 1,650 calories.

OK hold on.  Before i continue, i'm wondering how many calories i should really shoot for on race day.  9,000+ seems impossibly high.

i found a calculator that "uses fitness, intensity, distance, weight, and use of fat vs. glycogen to calculate an approximate amount of total calories required for the event."  It can be used for anything from a Sprint to a full Ironman.  It estimates that i will burn 8,320 calories -- 36.31% from fat -- requiring 5,299 calories from glycogen.  Adding in some wiggle room, let's make it 5,499.  Let's say that going into the race, i have 1,800 calories in my glycogen stores.  That leaves a requirement of 3,699.  That seems more manageable.  Now how to manage it?

Well, as much as i wish the kayak volunteers served pizza, i won't be taking in any calories during the swim.  Let's say i am then on the bike and run courses for 9.67 hours (hope hope hope!).  That means i will need 383 calories per hour during that time.

So maybe i tape 9 gels to my bike, grabbing one every 12 miles or so.  (Cumulative calorie total: 990).  i down 8oz of slightly watered down Ironman Perform every 45 minutes or so or about 61 oz. or around 457 calories (now i am at 1,447).  Throw in a PBJ "Uncrustables" sandwich (210 --> 1,657), a pack of Clif Shot Bloks (200 --> 1,857), and 400 calories of a "food to be named later" (400 --> 2,257).

Now on to the run.  Perhaps i can choke down 5 more gels (550 --> 2,807),  40 more oz. of Perform (300 --> 3,107), 8 oz. of Coca-Cola (100 --> 3,207), 6 oz. chicken broth (59 --> 3,266), a banana (105 --> 3,371), half a pack more of Shot Bloks (100 --> 3,471) aaaaaaaaaand, um, wow i really don't feel like eating any more.  i am 228 calories short and i haven't even checked my math.

Close enough?  Maybe, but i should really find a way to eat more on the bike.  Still, that makes me feel a little better than i have a chance at keeping up with my nutrition.

So i am done!  Oops, wait.  What about water and electrolytes?  If i don't have a proper intake there, i will bonk before i even have a chance to eat.  Hmm, i think i'll save those calculations for a bit later.  i'm going to have a big bowl of cereal.

Ka-Thump ... Ka-Thump

Although i am surrounded by runners who embrace technology that enhances the athletic experience, i've traditionally held off from attaching too much gadgetry to my person since 1) i'd feel less like a cheetah and 2) i'd be broke if i acquired all of the techno-bling that appealed to me.  There is so much great stuff out there.

Nevertheless, since the random beeps coming from my trusty Nike chronograph signaled the end of its simple yet fruitful life, i thought i better find something to replace it.

i do have a Garmin Forerunner 201 that i've had for a while and was my first foray into the world of GPS.  That device was certainly the best i had ever donned on my wrist and quite revolutionary for me.  i can remember taking a ruler, paper and a pencil onto the local map within the phone book and measuring out course after course.  Sure, sites like mapmyrun.com made things easier, but to just head out the door for a loop to wherever and know exactly how far i'd gone in real-time was amazing.

Standard joke: Of course, it didn't do the running for me.  Oh well.

So i found myself looking for something that could handle swimming, biking, and running.  The 201 didn't fit that bill.  i read lots of great reviews on my options as a triathlete and though the Garmin Forerunner 310XT really seemed like the way to go, i wanted to spend less coin and try something a little different.  Hence, i went with the non-GPS Garmin FR60.  If you want to know more about it, i'd suggest clicking that link.  i'd suggest clicking it anyway since it is written by a guy who also has some great race reports and writes a very interesting blog on his triathlon adventures.  Suffice it to say, the thing keeps track of time (check), distance without a GPS (it is fairly accurate, but tails off a little at variable speeds), cadence on the bike (check), heart rate (check), and more.

It is the heart rate monitoring which intruiged me the most.  While i knew my resting heart rate in the morning is 37, i had not paid much attention to the Ka-Thump during workouts.  i decided i wanted to know, so i headed to amazon.com and made it happen.  So far, here is what i have learned.

Four 800 meter hill repeats in the middle of an 8 mile run looks like this:

 

If i run hill repeats on a treadmill (say some 1/4 mile reps in the middle of 7 miles at 8:34s with the reps' incline at 4-1-5-1-6-1-4-1-5-1-6-1-7-1%), it looks like this: 

Now, over to the bike.  If i am on the trainer in the basement and a boring movie is in front of me, i get this:

If i am challenged a bit more, even during a 45 minute group spin class, i get different results:

i am not yet using the heart rate to drive my workouts, but am simply gathering feedback about where i am at during different types of scenarios.  i am also able to track the data over time to see if i am improving (or not).

Also, given the importance of cadence in Ironman and the fact that i have no idea how often my feet spin around on those pedals, the cadence data will be quite valuable.

Yes, i do like charts and graphs.  No, i will not let the pretty colors get in my eyes and prevent me from stopping a run and looking at a hawk flying overhead or the pretty colors that matter most: the sunsets.  Mainly this is a tool to keep me motivated and perhaps get me to the finish line a little more efficiently.

Ka-Thump ... Ka-Thump ...  Ka-Thump ... Ka-Thump........

Faces of Ironman

You know an Ironman triathlon is tough.  i know it is tough.  At least once per week you can see super slow motion video of athletes pushing through pain via reruns on the television.  Ah, the pain

After my volunteer shift at Ironman Wisconsin in 2010, i snapped a few photos.  The following images were all taken at the same place: the corner of the run course where athletes look up and see the marathon turnaround.  Since it is a double out and back course, this takes place just a couple hundred yards away from the finish line.  So close, yet so far.  Upon seeing this point where they can almost touch the finish yet still have 13.1 miles to go, reactions vary, but there is almost always emotion.

Let's take a closer look.

Each of the runners in this first set seem pretty disheartened.

 

This next group took it all in stride.  Half marathon to go?  Let's do this.

 

 These four didn't know what to think of the challenge ahead.

 

These last athletes were not happy at all.

 

What is the lesson here?  140.6 miles of racing will really, really hurt at some point. Being ready for that pain and having a plan for when it hits you may be the difference between finishing strong and crawling home.