| Ironman CdA 2007 |
[Jun. 29th, 2007|10:45 am] |
I'll keep it brief, as ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) shubbe covered many aspects in her race report. In summary, I had an excellent time despite some unanticipated challenges.
Prior to race day Amy and I had come down to the race site in order to do a couple test swims to test the conditions and just make sure we still remembered how to swim. The winds this week had been unusually strong, and on Friday they were 10-15mph from the South. The first half of course heads to the South so this created some interesting waves to swim into on a normally smooth-as-glass surface. Overall, though, it wasn't too bad once I remembered swimming in the Great Lakes growing up and how to swim with the wave frequency. We were all pretty certain that come race day the waves would have calmed down and it would be closer to normal. They didn't. In fact, it was worse with 2-3 foot whitecaps and 15mph winds (not to mention the gusts.) By this point though Amy and I had come to peace with it and were determined to ride it out.
Swim:
We arrived at the race site around 5:00 and were there just in time for transition to open. We went in to put our nutrition restocks in our special needs bags, and put our initial nutrition and bottles on our bikes. Then, we just sort of socialized, put on sunscreen, waited in endless pot-o-potty lines and finally donned our wetsuits. Going down to the beach finally made it real as we saw the sea of neoprene-clad bodies. We walked down to the middle of the pack, said our goodbyes and then I moved at bit further down the beach towards the water.
Finally the gun went off and bodies started moving. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. It was a huge, thrashing maelstrom of bodies. Bodies grabbing, bodies kicking and punching. Bodies struggling to exist in the same space with 2000 others. The waves made things more challenging since as the person in front of you would start to crest a wave their forward momentum would fall off, causing everyone behind them to pile into them. It was a lot like driving on Mopac.
The most chaotic point of the entire swim came at the first turn: arriving there I found 200 bodies just treading water. Literally. With everyone trying to cut to the inside of the buoy everything just came to a standstill. It probably took one full minute to go the 25yds around the turn. Lots of cursing and yelling ensued.
My first lap was all about survival and I never once thought about my time. The way back in was better but still fairly crowded. Due to the waves being at a slight angle to the beach I found myself veering to the right several times and constantly struggled to correct to the left without plowing over others. (Do people eventually get over feeling like they're violating others' space out there? I'm not sure I will.) Anyhow, I swam in to the beach as far as I possibly could, swimming past throngs of people who stopped and stood when the water was still chest-deep, grabbed a hand and pulled/got-pulled out. I split my watch and to my delight it was around 40:30 (my estimate was around 43 minutes.) I jogged over the 20ft to the re-entrance area and started again.
This time things had thinned a bit and I was able to extend my stroke a bit. It was still crowded and chaotic but at least now I could from time to time find gaps and move on through. I started feeling more warmed up and better about the concept of finishing this thing. I made it to the first turn and things were a lot better this time; things were finally thinning a bit. I made the second turn and began to notice the my lower abdomen was feeling a bit sore, but I attributed it to fatigue and kept on moving. The discomfort built to soreness, and then to pain. It felt like someone had slugged me hard right below the navel. My lower abs were cramping. I still had 2/3 of a length to finish so tried to suck it up and stopped kicking, only crawling my way in. To this point I'd been picking up speed and was thrilled with the idea of finishing the lap in around 38 minutes. Now, I would be happy just to finish at all. A lifetime later I finally made it out of the water, pointed out a suit stripper, got on my back and had it off in no time. It was when I got back up that I noticed the extent of the pain; it was causing me to double over. I shuffled into transition, grabbed my bag and moved into the changing tent. Big mistake. I really should have headed directly to a port-o-potty. Now, I was stuck in the changing tent with severe cramps and had to just squat down and try to prevent a terrible tragedy from happening in front of my new friends. The johns were within visual distance but I was pretty much stuck. I sat like that for over four minutes before I had things under control enough to make a sprint. I made it.
To my dismay my five-minute visit with John only got me back to the point of being able to walk again. I headed out, grabbed the contents of my bag, somehow got my socks and shoes on and ran over to get my bike. Jogging to bike-out I ran into Amy who was looking great which brought me great joy. We both mounted and took off together.
Bike:
Over the next 20 miles I played leapfrog with Amy, stopping repeatedly for portopotties. I made a grand total of seven stops on the bike. Exactly seven more than I had planned. I took two Immodium tablets about ten miles in and I think they eventually helped. It wasn't until around mile 40 that I was able to get into my aerobars. I stand today as witness that aerobars are the last place you want to be with abdominal cramps.
To make matters worse, the left knee problems that had come and gone in the final month leading up to the race were back. Pretty much from the moment I first mounted my bike I knew this, so just did my best to keep my cadence high and bear with it. The middle section of each loop was very hilly, and there were times where it felt like someone was hitting my kneecap with a hammer, but the beauty of the environment and the amazing support of the crowd kept me moving forward.
From the time that I started back in to town from the first turnaround through the time I finished the bike time blurred. My singular focus was to just keep moving and to stay in check with my nutrition schedule, which I was able to get back in sync with after mile 30. I backed off on Gatorade by about 20% due to the cool temperatures (high of 67°) and decreased effort early on. Getting back into town after my second loop was a relief, especially since some serious chaffing had begun. It turns out that Bodyglide doesn't survive seven bathroom trips.
Went into transition, an awesome volunteer helped me by dumping all of my trans bag on the ground and handed me the things I wanted, and I was on my feet again.
Run:
Running actually felt really good at this point. My knee was still hurting, but thanks to having delt with it several times on transition runs after long bikes in the previous month I knew how to deal with it: Chi Running. As long I concentrated on not doing too much knee lift I kept the quad firing from irritating things. My speed suffered some but I was able to settle into a comfortable pace. My core muscles were trashed from cramping and my legs really wanted to be going faster but I continued to use what had become our shared mantra for the week: It is what it is.
The crowd support was simply incredible. Our race bibs had our names on it and the crowds really used this. I don't think I went a single block without hearing someone yell "Go Matt!" That helps more than you can imagine. There were also a lot of Texas fans out there; I think I heard "YAY TEXAS!" almost as much as my own name. I hooked'um horns every single time. :)
Hitting the mile 20 marker I knew I only had 10K to go so bit my lip firmly started to pick it up. Mile 21 featured a hill that on any other day would only be a blip, but today, at this point, made me have to walk it. Fortunately near the top you turn around and come down the way you came. This was a great springboard into a 10k pace. Granted, it was well below my normal 10K pace, but it felt great to start stretching out my legs again. I saw Coach Jamie out there several times, and on my last 5k he and the TxFe crew were there pushing us on. This really helped. Heading back into downtown I repeatedly said my main mantra aloud: This is supposed to be hard. Towards the end I switched "be hard" with "hurt". Both worked equally well.
Making the final turn I was able to see, hear and feel the finish line ahead of me. It was now time to use up what was left in the tank so began to sprint. Crossing the line I raised my arms in victory: 12:38:36. I had finished while the Sun was still up.
Results:
2.4mi swim: 1:23:50
112mi bike: 6:24:10
26.2mi run: 4:34:35
Overall: 12:38:36
Conclusion:
Well, this has already sprawled to be about 10 times more than I had planned to write, but I've easily left out 10 times more than I could have.. or probably should have! It was an absolutely incredible experience. Despite the things that went wrong, so many many more things went right. You can't choose the conditions for race day, especially for a race you sign up for 364 days prior, and this is the reason you go out and train on the days it's windy, or raining, or ungodly humid, or 105°. Or just plain tired and wanting to roll over and sleep. All of this is trumped by the feeling you get when finishing. It was all worth it.
Everyone asks, "Will you do it again?" Before the event I had decided to hold off on any plans until we had finished. Then we would see. It could be that I would never want to wear a race bib again. It could be that we'd go the next morning and sign up again. The reality? Absolutely yes. We aren't signing up for CdA in '08 but I'll definitely be trying another IM next year, if not two. My pie-in-the sky goal for the day had been 12 hours, and my only real goal was to finish before sunset. I smashed the latter, and knowing what I know now twelve hours will be an afterthought next time.
I'm not positive what my next event will be. I'd like to do Jack's Generic and The Austin Tri, and definitely plan on doing The Longhorn Half Iron, but for now I'm concentrating on recovering and healing. My knee will probably keep me off my bike for at least two weeks (if not a month), and for the next few weeks I'll just be doing short swims and runs when I feel like it. Well, I feel like running now, but we'll see how the knee goes. :)
Thanks:
There are so many people to thank for getting me here. It's hard to name them all, but foremost there's my best friend: Amy. Her love and support made it possible. She kept me sane, happy and healthy through it all. I want to thank my coach Andrea Fisher for her guidance which got me through this. Without her planning and wisdom I'd never have been able to stay so consistent or push myself so hard. Thank you, Coach Karen for your support, encouragement and knowledge that kept me going as the day grew long. All of my good friends and family who gave me happiness and encouragement to draw upon the entire 140.6 miles. You know who you are. :)
Some splits (bib #711). Some awesome photos. An awesome woman. |
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