We all suffer. Keep Going

Sunday 1st July 2012 was my first stab at iron distance triathlon (2.4 mile swim / 112 mile bike / 26.2 mile run); IronMan Austria. There should be a post dedicated to the 6+month build up to 1st July, but there were two key defining moments which gave my IronMan training character to say the least:

1. My broken toe from the TRR in Aug 2011, which untreated, lead to chronic knee issues as I continued to train on it and subsequently changed my running gait. 
2. Less than 8 weeks from the big dance, coming off my TT bike at speed down hill into a turn, cracking my frames seat stays and trashing my sectional clinchers I planned on using in IM. (Fortunately, I was barely scratched)

Seeing as this was my maiden IM voyage I tried not to have any expectations, but there is no doubt that sub-10 was roaming around in my head. It was a tough day FO SHO, but it was always going to be so you might as well throw in the banned wetsuits, punctures and high temps to get the full experience.

It's Official

Coming into the Big Dance I felt well prepared despite the two items above. My readiness was 100% down to the program that I followed with KJC. We were relentless with our dedication to training and commitment to the plan her coach Harry's masterfully set out. Looking back now having finished IM, I truly feel that some of our brick sessions in the weeks leading up to IM were tougher physically and mentally than the IM itself, just as KJC continued to insist. And with those hard workouts in the bag, mentally I had confidence at the distance.

The day before the race, when news broke at the briefing about the banned wetsuits, there is no denying it was a let down, but no sooner was I over it.  A non-wetsuit swim was not insurmountable as we had swim 4x3.8K TTs in the pool in training so there was no doubt I was able to do the distance in jammers alone. I just had to accept that it would take me longer and I was in the fortunate position to not be racing against a previous PB since this was my first IM.

Pre-race:
We arrived in Austria on Thursday before the race; enough time to get settled in, register, hit the expo, do a few light workouts, etc but not so much time that our nervousness red-lined. It was pretty hot, but there's no difference in acclimatizing whether arriving four or two days prior. However, sleeping in this heat at night was pretty unsettled, so it was actually better to be getting full sleep at the beginning of the week at home.

Experts!?!

On race day, we were up at 4:45 for breakfast at 5:00. Then the plan of attack was get to transition by 5:30, put my run nutrition in my run bag, put shoes on bike, add bottles, put my nutrition on my bike and out of transition, walking the 10-15min to the swim start. Unfortunately I had to resort to the Plan B I didn't have when I started putting my shoes on the bike and realized that my front wheel was flat. F! All the sudden things when from calm and collected to chaos. Off with my front wheel and over to the mechs in transition where they changed the tube. I was thinking that it might have been a valve extender issue as I cycled the bike 45min on Fri with the new tires and tubes without issue and then merely topped off the air on Sat before dropping the bike to transition. Fortunately the guys were able to attend to it pretty quickly. They sort of struggled to put the tire on as they had on Friday. When the guy was doing it, I noticed that the rim tape was a little off centered, but I didn't think too much of it; I just wanted my wheel back stat. With my wheel back on the bike, I sorted out the rest of my transition and rushed out of transition to catch KJC and headed to the swim start. We got there with about 10 min to spare. Things were back in order; crisis averted (for the time being).

With Arms:

The inspirational Chrissie Wellington

The water temperature in the lake on Saturday was apparently 24.8C, 0.3C over the wetsuit cutoff so this was the first non-wetsuit swim in the 15 year history of the race. There were rumors that WTC was getting a bit more strict on races enforcing the rules as other recounted that surely Worthersee was above 24.5 in years past. I decided to go with jammers and no top. I would put my RocketScienceSports tri shorts and top on in T1. We (KJC & I) started on the left beach instead of the right as normally it is a direct shot to the first buoy, but when we got there and looked out, the 1st buoy appeared to be to the right making the right beach a direct shot instead! The garmin would later confirm that they altered the usual location of the buoys. It was clocked at 4.2K instead of 3.8K! But at this point it was too late to switch beaches. My swim goal was to use the swim as a warm up; I wanted to exit the swim without having dug too deep and fresh for the bike. I found the swim busy, but I was not getting bashed like all accounts of IM are. I actually had a lot more open water than I expected: maybe that's a bad thing? There were times that I felt like peeps were pushing my legs down or even pushing me, but in general I didn't get too battered. Turning the first buoy we were supposed to then be heading straight across to the next, but after starting straight, I noticed that the 2nd buoy was actually up the lake further (more indication of a long swim) so I had to redirect to the right a bit. Still not too much battering, but it was pretty amazing how busy it was. After turning the 2nd buoy, it was back towards the canal, sighting into the sun. At this point I certainly felt my hips/legs dropping. The fact that peeps kept hitting my legs didn't help. Finally I made it to the infamous canal where I was hoping to be magically pulled through as most accounts describe.  In the canal it certainly was a bit easier so I switched to bilateral breathing, trying to glide more. After about 1K in the canal, I exited and felt fine; job done. I ran up the mat passing several others who all seemed to be a bit dazed and confused. I was not sure if I did well or not time wise, but I was feeling good. Up next was the bike, which I was truly stressing (due to possible mechanicals).

With Legs:
I was through T1, onto the bike and off with no issues. My goal here was to take it easy for most of the first lap (90K). Along the lake (Worthersee) I resisted the urge to race as others flew past me. There were several peeps I knew, whom flew past like I was standing still only for me to catch them less than an hour later and steadily move past them. Through the first 70k on the bike I was dancing on the pedals. I was eating every 30min and refreshing bottles at aid stations. All was to plan. I was up and down the laps  two main climbs with little perceived effort, my HR was around 140, my power was just under 200 even though I wanted to be around 210; I was on pace for just over a 5hr bike, life was good. Just after 70K my race changed.

All Good

Unfortunately what I feared most coming into this day came to be, a mechanical. This was the second of what would eventually be 5 flats on my front wheel. It was a relatively slow leak so I rolled for a bit (almost in hopes that I was imagining it or that it would go away) before finally accepting reality and pulling over. Luckily I did not flat on a decent considering I touched 45mph on several occasions. I managed to stay pretty calm as I reasoned I would get this fixed and be on my way, maybe only losing a 2-3 min. I put the new tube in and shot my only 16oz gas canister into the tube. During the process of changing my tube, a dozen+ local, Austrian supporters/spectators, one-by-one, migrated from their all-day post 100m up the road and surrounded me like I was food and they hadn't eaten in weeks. Between the heat, the urgency to get back rolling and the dozen or so peeps breathing down my neck, I was starting to get a bit flustered. At one point, one of the spectators tried to grab my wheel to help, but I insisted that they back off as I knew that outside assistance was grounds for DQ.

Things really went south when the gas I put in didn't hold. Now I was sh*t of out ideas. I left the tube in and I went back to my other tube, blowing air into it to see if it would hold and if it was the valve or in fact a puncture. At this point in the game I suspected that it was the valve and not the tube. In breathing air into and squeezing the original flatted tube it seemed to hold, so maybe the guys in transition didn't put the valve extender on tight enough? The problem now was that I was out of gas and had no pump. In the mean time, the locals kept on getting closer and closer to the point that I was pretty much fully surrounded. In frustration and in a raised voice I asked, "What is it you want?", as if they might understand my English. So out of gas and without a pump, I just stood there looking back down the road in hopes that, in TdF style, a Mavic Neutral Support Car would magically arrive. All the while masses of athletes continued to pass.

One of the spectators started talking to me in English, as if she was the spokesperson for the "tribe". She was asking me what I needed. I desperately said I need air in my tire but that any help would be outside assistance. She look at me as if totally surprised and said, "That all you need!?!", and then she motioned to one of the others and he got a pump for me. I reluctantly took it, fearing being DQed, but used it to put air in my tire. I was finally good to go and got back on the road, waving the masses a positive "danke schoen". All and all, this pit stop probably cost 40min and then a few K down the road I flatted again! Now I was totally F-ed. I had to tubes, no gas and no pump. Out of options I just started walking still with hopes that eventually a mech would drive by. After a mile or so I fortunately came across an aid station and a fixed-point mechanic. Five mins later, with a new tube, valve extension and having signed my second IOU of the day I was back on the go. At this point I thought I might still salvage something from this bike split. Having said that, there was a long way to go yet.

With Air!!

Naturally after my third flat, I was extremely tentative, especially on the decents; in a matter of less than 10K I went from dancing to distressed. I finally finished the first lap in a moving time of 2hr35 so even with the mile of walking I was make great moving time. As I started back out into my second lap I was rolling with a different crew of athletes. Actually, I was passing most as if they were going backwards. The second time through the climbs was not as effortless as the first. It was several hours later and definitively hotter (reports upwards of 41C) and with all the lost time there wasn't the same buzz or rush of adrenaline. Oddly enough I flatted again 90K later in the same spot as my third!! This was flat 4. Again I walked to the fixed mech, and again a new tube and valve, but this time the tube was free of charge....how generous at 10 euros a pop. For sure my bike split was toast now, but I thought at least I'll make it back to T2 and to the run so I can put this bike behind me.

No chance. A few K down the road it flatted for the 5th time. There were no more mechanics and I didn't think to walk back. I honestly smiled. It was clearly a joke at this point. Did my pre-race worries result in this reality? I started walking again while I contemplated my IM fate. A bike marshal passed soon after, stopped and asked in English if I was "kaput" as they made a slashing motion across their throat. I looked at my watch and stopped to think. It was 2pm. I did some quick numbers in my head; probably less than 20k left to go so 2hrs or less to walk back and then maybe a 4hr marathon; I'll be home by 8. So I said no to the marshal, I'll keep going. Several other bike marshals passed by and used the same word, "kaput"! Still I refused. I finally made it back to T2 after walking maybe 8 miles in my cycling shoes (the pavement was too hot for bare feet). I never really got to upset with the situation. Miraculously I was able to keep my cool mentally, physically I was burning up walking in the direct sun light. It was just so unlucky that all I could do is smile/laugh.

With Feet:
There was a great relief to finally have the bike parked and be out on the run. It is quite the opposite of what I would have expected considering my knee problems over the last 6 months. I would have expected to be dreading the run. Instead I was a bit lifted to finally be running.

Even with a perfect swim and bike, I really had no clue what state I would be in exiting T2.  I was merely planning to run from aid station to aid station, exactly how fast, I was not sure.  Coming into the day I thought that I might run around 8min miles and that a sub-3hr30 was feasible. But I was going to play it sans sheet music. Now considering the day I've had, reality was that a 4hr marathon would be a steal. I was now running for accomplishment. Thus I never really concerned myself with my pace or the time of day. I had my mind set on one thing: getting from aid station to aid station without walking. 

The run could be broken up into 4x10K O&Bs. The first heads out towards Krumpendorf along the lake. This would prove to be the hottest section as it has the least tree cover. The second 10K heads back towards town and was definitively cooler. On the first lap, headed out along the lake there were masses of spectators and the locals were out with their garden hoses dousing peeps like we were on fire. While at first this was a fantastic means to cool down the core, it also meant the sneaks becoming saturated with water. For me that meant pretty sore feet so I was doing my best to avoid the hoses or plead to the locals "nein danke" when they offered a dousing.

At every aid station I was taking on water and iso and before the second lap I started taking Pepsi. I was also trying to eat every 30-40min and taking saltstick every 30-40min alternating with eating. I was using sponges and taking ice cubes for the hands. On occasion I was rubbing ice cubes around my lips in lieu of taking on fluids. I think that the ice cubes were key to keeping cool. With ice I didn't need what hoses. Heading into town for the first time I came across KJC and P King running back from town. It was first time since the beginning of the bike that I had seen anyone I knew.

Coming back in from the lake for the last time was a relief, since for me that was the toughest section of the run course. I was starting to feel like the end was near, only O&B to town one more time. The legs generally felt ok, I wasn't going at blazing speed, but I was keeping to my plan to run aid station to aid station. It was amazing how many peeps were walking. I've never seen so much walking. Seeing peeps walk actually gave me inspiration to run; it was my only chance to salvage time. even though I was really only competing with myself, I may it a competition with others in order to keep the drive.

Just Brazil between me and the finish

For the last 3-4K I was on a mission. With the end being so near, suddenly the form starts to come back and I'm able to take it up a few gears. I guess the difference between being average and great is being able to stay in that state of mind and sustain the effort the whole race. For the last mile I was sub-8 and I was so focused on "finishing strong" that I did not really fully appreciate the atmosphere coming down the finishing stretch. I nearly pushed the guy in front of me over trying to finish. And like that it was 6+months of training had culminated.

The Take Home:
There were some hard lessons learned, specifically on the bike. I was on borrowed wheels, having trashed my sectional clinchers coming off the bike a few weeks back. I have sectional tubs, but I wanted to go with clinchers thinking that on the day changing a tube would be easier than a tub. Borrowed wheels was one thing, but I also then changed to new tires just two days before the race. Changing tires without a few spins/weeks on them was rookie stuff, but I thought it was a sure thing having the mechanics at the expo do this followed by a 45min test spin. On Tuesday, after the race, I took the tires off to see if I could figure it out. Sure enough the rim tape was well shifted off center and in one spot, matching up where my last pinch was, the rim tape was folded under creating a crease and exposing the rim. I recall the mech(s) having a tough time with the tires and I bet they shifted the tape then. I should have done it myself, but at a minimum I should have inspected the rim when I had the flat in transition and also when I had my first flat on the course. Being in the heat of battle, I wasn't thinking procedurally. I just wanted it fixed and fast. Lesson: Right First Time.

 "Beer?", "Always!"

Mechanicals aside, I think that I was well prepared for the race and I tackled the bike properly and was on pace to put down a good split, maybe 5hr5-5hr10. My nutrition was good, thus I was mentally in check for the most part. I suspect that had I been low on sugar, the Felt may not have made the plane trip back to Ireland! And I must take HTFU credit for getting back to T2 by hell or high water and putting in a decent run split. The run at 35C up was no doubt tough, but it was eased by persistent hydration and soley focusing on running from aid station to aid station, not worrying about pace or time of day. If I had a seamless bike and if a sub-10 been within reason, who knows, maybe I would have put priority on my run pace and ended up blowing up?

I do know it was an easy decision for me to continue my race and walk the bike back to T2; a DNF was not an option. I had come to Austria with one goal, to get across the line. Considering all that was invested, it was going to take a lot more than punctures for me to call it a day. I'm well pleased that I did continue; had I DNFed it would have been too long until redemption.  In my mind my 12:21 was underachieving, but looking back, now two weeks later, it is wonderful how I still get a euphoric feeling about the 24hrs post finishing, even in the face of my battles on the bike. It is easy to see how first thing the morning after the race, the masses migrate (limping, etc) to register to do it all again in 365 days. This sense of accomplishment is something that can never be taken away. By no means did my maiden IM voyage it go to plan, but I doubt it often does at IM distance. 

The greatest battle is not physical but psychological. 

The demons telling us to give up when we push ourselves to the limit can never be silenced for good. 

They must always be answered by the quiet, steady dignity that simply refuses to give in. 

Courage. We all suffer. Keep going.

- Graeme Fife