Ironman Canada 2013

Trip Report

Whistler is a beautiful town.  The town is already set up to handle large events after hosting the Winter Olympics years ago.  We parked on Friday night and didn’t touch the car again until Monday morning.  The mountains make for a beautiful venue and are a great sight while taking breaths during the swim.  During the athlete meeting they stressed littering heavily due to the potential for bear activity.  I loved the atmosphere of the event at Whistler, but the brutality of the bike course definitely threw some pocket sand in the eyes.  I think it was a good experience for my first Ironman, take the training wheels straight off.

The swim was an open water start which made the shore nice and open for warming up and getting water into your wetsuit.  The pack crowded right at the start buoys; those of us that didn’t want to be front and center in the crazyness could just float for a minute but still be in the water ready to rock.  The water was far warmer than I expected and some glare on the second lap made buoy sighting difficult once the sun crested the mountains.  At T1 wetsuit stripers were on top of their game and the tent had plenty of chairs.

The bike was a grueling ordeal.  My GPS logged hitting 35-40mph 15 different times over the hills of the course.  So each down gets its corresponding up.  The course had hills aplenty and a 15 mile each way near flat out and back.  The 30 mile total was through farm country.  The roads along this stretch weren’t terrible, but left much to be desired.  There were several train tracks through the course and numerous water bottles, CO2 cartridges and gel bottles could be found near each from jostling off the bikes.  Two hills, one with a very sharp turn and one with a rail road track, were agonizing because they came after or during a nice downgrade which killed the chance to milk speed from them.  The sharp turn was the only section I was worried about wrecking; my brakes were trying their hardest (and were also likely coated in urine).  The roads were clean and mostly free of debris.  Aid stations were top notch and hand offs seemed to go well.  At T2 they took my bike and racked it for me.  Once again there were plenty of chairs and volunteers present in the changing tent. 

The run contained a fair amount of trail running.  The run went near the golf course, out and back along a lake and required two loops.  Aid stations were very well spaced and abundant.  There was not much elevation change along the course.  After sunset there were generator powered lights for the stretches that went through the small forest and a few other areas.  One small stretch of forest had no lighting; hopefully next year they rent more lights.  There were a large abundance of spectators along the course and plenty of volunteers. 

 

The Personal Reflection

I woke up at 4am to eat breakfast.  I had almonds, half a clif bar, iced tea, a little hot tea, and a double-decker peanut butter and white bread sandwich (how do people eat white bread, ugh).  I had packed my backpack the night before and laid out my clothes and timing chip.  I threw on my clothes while eating, washed my face with a nice hot rag to wake me up, grabbed my MP3 player for the walk and headed out.  I walked to T2 where the buses were arriving to shuttle us to the lake.  I decided to keep my bike special needs bag in my pack and not use it.  The bus ride took about 15 minutes.  After arriving at the lake I went to T1 to scope out my bike.  It had rained in the night so I dried off my seat and handle bars.  I don’t use body glide on anything but my feet, but I figured I had a ton to spare to I put some on the front of my pits, down my pants, on my collar bones and on the back of my neck.  I slowly put on my wetsuit and rounded up my goggles and nose plug.  I was a tad late to the water so I had to stand in line to drop my morning bag.  I drank my prerace drink of diluted Powerade and headed into the water.  I saw my family but opted not to flag them down since I was a man in a black wetsuit and neon cap in a mass of others wearing the exact same thing.  I was about halfway between the shore and the start buoys floating when the start gun went off.  Some people didn’t even submerge their suit fully before starting.  I breast stroked for a bit to give the lead pack some distance and then set off into my crawl (stroke).  I tickled some feet, some people tickled mine (figuratively); having waited back a few seconds resulted in virtually no real contact amongst swimmers in my area.

The swim was long.  Some swimmers were awful at sighting.  A fair amount of people had kayaks telling them which directions to head because they were so far off course.  I directed myself pretty well with a few exceptions here and there.  I had never swum 2.4 miles before and near the end I felt pretty vomitacious and the pressure of my goggles on the bridge of my nose was starting to get to me.  The absolute worst part was coming into shore once I could see the lake floor.  The sand was covered in seaweed and the changing depth and swaying of the plants made me feel extremely dizzy.  I made it into shore with a time far worse than planned, 1:53:XX.  I started peeling the top of my wet suit as soon as I could stand in the water.  Once on shore they announced my name and my family took some pictures.  The wetsuit stripers peeled my suit down to my thighs and had me sit on the ground.  They pulled off my wetsuit like it was nothing.  I grabbed my transition bag and headed to the changing tent, now freezing without my wetsuit on.  I took way too much time in the tent drying my feet and coating them in baby powder so I could get my toe socks on.  I verified all my bike gear and headed on, somehow I had spent 15 minutes in transition.   

As I head out to my bike I noticed a lot of empty racks and realized that I did really take forever to finish that swim; I laughed to myself as I walked up to my bike and took it off the rack.  The start of the bike was solid.  I was cresting the hills and bombing down at decent speed.  I would use my aerobars down hill if I could see the bottom or stick to a crouch with hands on the breaks if it was a corner.  I felt like I was making solid enough time and was passing people fairly frequently.  I opted to pee on my bike for the race.  The disclaimer here is that with as hydrated as you are during a race like this your urine is practically straight water.  My bike shorts have too tight of elastic at the leg to pull up far enough, so I’d just stand up and let it go.  If I was going down a hill I’d just go while I was peddling (after making sure no one was behind me) and let the wind take it away.   

At 21 miles, right before the first out and back turn around, I got a flat.  I was pleased it was my front tire so I didn’t have to deal with grease from the sprocket.  I got my tools out and got to work.  People flew by asking if I had everything I needed, I’d say yes and on they went.  I got my tire on and inflated.  I began to pass the people I had passed before and make my way up the crowd.  I’d drain my water bottles into my aerobottle before aid stations so I could swap them out.  I was behind on calorie intake, but I truly didn’t know what my calorie intake should be.  I was sticking to Clif Bloks and Gu early on.  I had one Clif Bar in my short’s pocket I would take bits of to eat with my electrolyte pills.  I kept chugging along. 

Once I hit the flats at mile 60 I had peed numerous times (read: my fluid intake was great) but my calorie intake was questionable; I’d never bonked before so I didn’t care.  I continued to eat about 250-350 calories per hour.   At this point in the race my bulk of calories were in fluid form from the Powerbar Perform bottles.  I hate flat.  I can do uphill, I can do downhill, but I truly hate biking on long flat sections.  This was the longest flattest thing I had ever biked on.  About 70 miles into the race I got another flat; once again, my front tire.  I changed it out and got back on the road.  At this point I shifted to “simply finishing the race” mode.  I had no reason to press my heart to pass the same people for a third time, but I did pass a fair amount of them on the hills after finishing the flat section.  On my way back towards town a woman biked up from behind me and asked if I had passed someone in a red and orange jersey, I told her I didn’t think so.  She swore to herself and thanked me. 

Biking into town was agonizing; I didn’t want to be on a bike anymore.  I was standing on the hills instead of picking up speed.  In the last 6 or so miles the bike course went right beside the running course and running looked so nice.  I continued on into town and made it to T2.   

In T2 I got a reality check on how close I was, I had made it with ten minutes to spare.  So for those disgusted with peeing on yourself, the reality is that if I had stopped to pee each time I would not have made the cutoff.  I was at hour 10:20:XX.  I went into the tent and ditched the bike gear and socks.  I reapplied body glide to my feet and rubbed baby powder all over my feet to get rid of any moisture.  Bike gloves rock for rubbing baby powder on your feet, it turns out.  I put on new toe socks (couldn’t recommend these more for racing) and put on my shoes, race bib and running belt.  I had a Redbull in my transition bag that I dumped into my water bottle before heading out.  My running belt has three 8oz water bottle slots.  I brought it to carry one bottle, my Gu in the zipper pocket, and to tuck my sleeves into one of the spare water bottle holders.  Once again, I spent too much time in transition, ten minutes. 

Starting the run was amazing.  It’s like my body forgot all the other stuff I had just done; it felt so good.  Running is my strong point and I knew I had no problem finishing the race from here.  I started off shooting for a four hour marathon.  Once I backed my brain out of competitive mode I opted for ten minute miles with 10 minutes of running and one minute of walking.  At mile three a girl ran up from behind me and said “you’re the guy I talked to on the bike, right?”  It turns out the guy she was looking for was her boyfriend and he missed the bike cutoff.  We ran together for a while.  She was walking up hills and running the rest.  This made a lot more sense than my arbitrary walk every ten minutes.  Her pace was a bit slower than mine, but it kept my heart around 140-145 bpm.  I made a decision that finishing an Ironman was enough for me and I’d rather have someone to talk to for the race than get a “good marathon time.”  We were running buddies for the rest of the race. 

The two loop format of the marathon turned out to be mentally rewarding because we were mixed in with more people instead of being the stragglers bringing up the rear.  At aid stations I opted primarily for cola, bananas, grapes, water, and sport drink.  I think I had grapes and cola at every aid station.  If I were to add it up I think I drank about 1.5 liters of cola and half a pound of grapes during the race, my body knows what it wants.  I ate chips once and it literally HURT my lips.  I had left my electrolyte pills on my bike when they took it from me in transition, but my new running buddy had an abundance of them so I grabbed a couple.   

The run plagued on and we continued our running mixed with walking up hills.  The running felt ok, but every time I started up from a walk to a run again my legs screamed a little more.  The sun began to set and we were still chugging along; I finally put my sunglasses on my hat.  Time for a plug: the best piece of gear I bought (relatively) was my sunglasses.  The top plastic rim wasn’t in my field of vision while biking, and I didn’t have to adjust them once.  From the time I put them on before the bike and taking them off when the sun set, I didn’t have to touch them once.  Scattante Sector, great glasses.  We walked a few gravelly trail areas due to poor lighting and eventually a woman started up alongside us around mile 16.  At this point in the race a lot of people had switched to walking, so I think she was happy to find others still running.  So now our posy had three runners and as a great benefit our new running buddy had a flashlight.  We held true to the walk/run method all the way to the end.  However, we did get a bit looser with the definition of what a hill worthy of walking was.  Near the end, starting up a run from a walk produced about half a second of absolute misery, but running still felt good.  We broke up in the last half mile for the finish.  After the race we all thanked, congratulated, and said goodbye to one another. 

The finish was the best thing ever.  At the athlete meeting they had talked about the energy from 10pm to midnight, I never thought I would be one of the people in that finishing range.  I just kept running and running and running waiting for that finish.  Once you round the corner into town and see the “Ironman” gate directing you, you know you’re set.  I continued into the chute.  The chute was as bright as day and people were crowded on both sides.  As I ran in there were people bashing in unison on the solid paneling; at this point all I could do was smile.  These people were so incredibly excited for every single person coming down that chute.  I felt excited but I don’t think it even came close to the excitement the spectators had for every runner.  They called my name and yelled the signature “you are an Ironman,” as I crossed the line.  Truthsies, from the time I entered the chute to the time I crossed that finish line I was full of the most powerful feelings of success, happiness, energy, and everything else that I had ever felt before; I was done, I had succeeded.  16:05:56; my body kept going for 16 hours, I impressed myself. 

After the race was a little rough for me.  I had hiccup/burps and had trouble eating because of it.  I weaseled in food whenever I could.  My sister walked with me to claim my bike and gear bags and I drank the remainder of the sport drink that was left on my bike.  Once back to the car and loaded up I drank some Hanson’s Apricot stuff and ate pretzels.  My day was done. 

Reflecting on the race there are some things I realize.  First, I spent way too much time in transitions, I just didn’t want to forget anything (and putting on toe socks took a little extra worthwhile time).  I forgot why I had chapstick, on the bike I was making sure my lips weren’t getting dry, but I had brought it for the sunscreen.  After the race my lips were a tad burnt but not anything terrible.  My body is a beast; it’s not the fastest but it handles endurance well.  I never had a single thought of not being able to finish, I never bonked, and I never had any stomach issues even with my liter plus of cola.  The training for the event was most evident the few days after the race.  My hamstrings are a little tight, my knees feel it when I stand up, but overall my body works fine.  I can go up and down stairs and walk just fine.  I am forever grateful to my running buddies for keeping me in check without knowing it.  My running buddies also made the 5:30 hour run feel like a training jog; we joked, laughed, talked, and kept each other going.  If I had ran alone I would have ran faster and my body would likely be suffering a lot more right now.  I am grateful to my family for coming to Whistler with me and supporting me.  I am grateful to my friends who motivated me and supported me while training.  The Ironman experience has been an amazing puzzle piece in life and I would recommend it to anyone who has ever had even the slightest inkling to try (but I’d find a course with fewer hills for your first). 

Dipping my feet into triathlon with an Ironman gave me a pretty good taste.  I’ll keep going with Olympic distance races and maybe a Half Ironman down the line, but the Ironman may have been a onetime adventure; we’ll see.  The Ironman reaffirmed that running is my strength.  Ultrarunning may be the next road I venture down. 

This post was long and is likely the last for a month until the Portland Triathlon.  Thank you for taking the time to read it.  If anyone is curious about other details feel free to email me.