It all started with the Friday before the race. Not immediately before, but a week before. I hit a wall. I couldn't make it through a simple recovery workout. I could barely hold 8:30/mi pace. Even fatigued, I still had no problem running sub 7:30 pace with ease until this point. I had gone too hard. In my quest for every last bit of fitness, I had upped the intensity with my decreased volume during taper. Only, I upped it too much and did not included enough rest. I was in serious trouble for my first Ironman.
Come raceday though, I was ready to rock. The day before I had felt good for the first time. Fitness was excellent, and I had enough rest to race. I would need another week of rest to actually hit form. However, with good fitness, racing fast with a good bit of fatigue is possible. It just hurts a lot more. And boy did it ever hurt...
The morning of raceday started just fine with a breakfast of oatmeal, a banana, chocolate muffin, yogurt, green tea, some electrolyte drink, and a Lara bar. I was getting transition ready, however, and realized they were closing it 15' before what I thought I had seen posted. Uh oh. A mad rush ensued, and I barely got the tires aired up and everything together in time. Upon getting back to the car to drive to swim start, I realized I still had my run visor and my electrolyte pills. This was not good. There was nothing I could do to add them now.
For the start I decided the inside (left) was the best position. It required treading water for 10 minutes before hand, but it was perfect. I started about 5 rows back (at the true swim start line) and had clean water for the entire swim. Occasionally of course someone tried (or did) swim over or across me or two people converged to sandwhich me, but all of that is part of open water swimming (what makes it fun). None of the turns were all that crowded where I was and several times large gaps opened in front of me making it difficult to keep a decent draft. However, because of the seemingly lack of people around me, I though I might be swimming well enough to post a decent time. Unfortunately, this was not the case and I should have known as I struggled to keep my cadence high for most of it and I could tell that I was having trouble keeping my body position as well.
Even with the swim being slower for most than normal, I was slow for me. Very slow. I posted a 1:10, 5' off my slowest estimate from my swim training in Florida. However, a week off swimming during travel had devastated my swim speed and I should have known that it would not magically reappear.
This turned out to be a good thing though, as I threw out my Kona aspirations, and changed the game plan to simply finishing and enjoying the experience. After spending seemingly forever in transition trying to figure out how to quickly put on bike shoes and then having to take them off because I still had my speedsuit on, I was on the bike and ready to roll.
Immediately, the power was there, but it wasn't easy. And the heart rate was too high. It was at half-Ironman HR and not dropping. So I backed it off 20W or so with the idea to just enjoy the ride. However, this was still much more uncomfortable than it should have been, though the legs had no problem making it with ease. It was actually quite fun passing people for the first 50 or 60 miles, but that's when I ran out of people to pass and found myself stuck going back into the wind with hardly a soul in sight. Things got tough. Very tough. However, the legs still made power easily (it was simply very uncomfortable to ride, possibly more due to the heat than anything else) so I upped it to target watts around mile 70 and held for the remainder.
Magically, after I hit the century mark in the fastest time ever for me (4:26!), I started feeling really really good. Until I got really hungry and realized the last gel that I thought I had was not there! With 5 miles left to ride, I got desperate and started hitting up the riders that I was now passing again for anything they could spare. I lucked out when a woman with a foreign accent understood me enough to pass off a gel containing writing I could not read. Soon I was back on the power blazing toward the run that I was certain that I was going to decimate. For an incredibly windy day (more so on the way back in of course...), I was surprised and exhilarated with the time, especially for the conservative wattage I held. I hit 4:58 which was what I had estimated for target wattage (about 10w higher than my normalized wattage for the ride). The new setup with the Flo wheels, disc cover, conti gp4000s front, Evo corsa rear, latex tubes, Rudy Project helmet, TriRig Omega brake, and my normal slammed position worked out very well!
In transition, the pavement was hot. Some I heard got up to 2nd degree burns. All I know is my feet still hurt from it days later. I shrugged it off and coated the feet in Vaseline though because I had a marathon to run! But I didn't feel good like I thought I should have. It was more of a struggle than I expected and I felt like I was running quite slow (though it turns out I split sub 7 for that first mile). After a long bathroom break (the 6th I think after the one in T1 and the 4ish times on the bike), I was feeling better. For about a quarter mile and then the legs decided they just didn't want to work properly. Not to mention the bloated feeling and gas from all the Perform on the bike. I was soon struggling just to make it to the next aid station and forced to a quick shuffle in order to simply keep moving. I knew right here it was going to be an even longer day than I had thought, but I was determined to finish and holding out hope that if I kept moving I might catch a resurgence somewhere down the line.
While I did finally blow out (literally...) all of the indigestion problems I was having, I was able to pick up the pace slightly for a few miles, but I never did get that resurgence. It was a struggle the entire way. It was just like my first half-Ironman I did, except when I got to 13.1 miles, I still had another 13.1 to go. But I do not give up. I do not quit. I do not stop moving. Tough races where I can outlast, out suffer, and shuffle past the faster athletes who stop moving is where I shine. And suffer I did. More than ever before by a factor too high to estimate. Only a few really know where the body's limits are (Julie Moss to name one) and most are not prepared to push them there, especially when things are not going perfectly to plan. But I am. Though I thankfully didn't hit them today, it was not for lack of trying. For the last six miles, every other step, a muscle in my upper calf, lower calf, or hamstring threatened to buckle me if my core was not strong enough to keep my balance. The cramps were so severe, I wasn't sure if I could finish until a half mile to go. But the body will keep moving if you will it to.
In the last few miles I tried electrolyte capsules I bummed off another competitor. Unfortunately for me, the cramps were from overuse. They weren't going to stop until I did. With my 3 long runs this year at 15-16 miles (why I was able to come into this race uninjured), it was no surprise that these muscles were rebelling particularly when, mistake #onetoomany, I thought it a good idea to wear my Hokas to run in. While they were, in fact, fantastic in many aspects, with the temperature in the 90's and humidity bringing the heat index up much higher, they were also soaked and making loud squishing noises from mile 2 on. It must have been comical to all that I passed!
Now as an engineer, I normally prep for races much better than this, but this time, I let myself get distracted and completely dropped the ball! However, a tough as nails mentality and a near perfect nutrition/hydration strategy got me through the day in what was to be the most unbelievable result I could have imagined. I was beyond ecstatic to post a sub-10 time at my first Ironman when I crossed the line in 9:53:15 with a brutal 3:35 run. Even more so when I realized that because of the tough conditions, this year it was good enough for 5th in AG and 24th amateur! This race will definitely be a race that I will always remember and cherish, not just for the time and placement, but for the wonderful suffering it took to get there. The greatest accomplishments always involve the most sacrifice, the most work, and the most pain. For me, this was one of them.