Rev 3 Cedar Point Full (iron distance triathlon) Race Report

Ten years ago in a class my senior year of high school I was tasked to set life goals.  I wasn’t sure of my “professional” future so I chose to concentrate on an area I was interested in; athletic achievement – mental and physical tests of my body’s limit.  At the time I was entering my final high school cross country season with high expectations and a hope to continue on at the collegiate level – which was accomplished though short lived.  My first goal was a stretch and I knew that age would be a limiting factor in how long I’d have to achieve it – the four-minute mile (at this point I believe I will remain 16 seconds too many).  The next two goals, I decided had to meet the physical demands and exclusivity of accomplishment without the limiting factor of age (since they are life goals), not to mention something I would be interested in doing.  My second goal was/is to summit Mt. Everest (I have stood at four 14,000ft summits, but that’s still not half way up Everest); my feelings towards this goal waiver to this day because I’m not as keen on mountaineering versus hiking. Time will tell. 

My final goal, and purpose of this lengthy intro, was to finish an Ironman.  While still not an accomplishment I scoff at (especially after having now completed it), I will say that this was in the days that the event was much less marketed and Ironman tattoos on your calf were rare (an ironman tattoo was one of only a few I would allow myself to get, though now not as much the case).  The irony of my ironman attempt is while my suffering was to be plenty; there aren’t many other days I could have picked that pale in comparison to so many others recounting the tragedy of ten years prior.  This would remain on my mind throughout the race.  The following is a recount of my day: 140.6 miles on 9/11/11:

Wake up at 5:15am. I’m sure others get up much earlier than this, but all I needed was contacts, clothes, water bottle prep and some breakfast.  We left the hotel by 5:55am and stopped by Burger King as they opened for a couple of sausage-egg-cheese croissantwiches. One of them was for now, the other for after the swim.  We checked in our bikes at the transition area the night before which saved a lot of hassle for the morning.  We arrived at Cedar Point at 6:15am and after some sorting of transition bags, nutrition bottles and putting on the wetsuit, I was ready to go! 

Heading to the start, half wet-suited.

This is a good point to mention some of the changes we would be coming across throughout the day.  First, the beach had such thick muck (calf deep) that they changed the swim from two loops where you get out of the water, run through a checkpoint, then go back in, to two loops where you stay in the water.  Not cool because I need every non-swimming opportunity I can get in the swim!  Second, due to a bridge not being finished in time, the bike route was changed THE DAY BEFORE.  I actually thought this would be for the better, but now having done it, I know better.  Lastly, the run route would be the one used last year and not the one proposed online.  So, ALL 3 course had been altered.  This pretty much wiped out any course preparation I would have gained from coming out to Sandusky in June to ride and run the courses.

Me and Rick 5min before the start.

Ok, so I head to the swim start and meet up with Rick Hullinger, trainer partner and fellow participant.  He hadn’t been feeling up for the event as noted by his quote the day before, “I would take just about any excuse not to do the race.”  Luck (or unluck) would be on his side about 15 minutes later when he would have to pull out of the swim due to feeling choked and not comfortable by his wetsuit.  That would end his day.  I will say that the only event that actually scares me is the swim; maybe because I’m not a swimmer, or more likely because of the drowning potential.

Swim start...

The pro start was 15 minutes prior to our start and there I witnessed the most promising news of the day… they walked out about 150 meters before starting to swim.  Actually a few of them would start to swim, then stand back up and walk because it was too shallow, yes!!  If you don’t know me, I’m not particularly jazzed about swimming, so this provided me with about .2 miles of wading out of 2.4 miles.   As the countdown begins for our start, I position myself towards the back to avoid as much craziness as possible.  And I would say between that and the 150 meters of wading out into the water, it proved successful.  While I never felt panicked like in past open water swim starts, I wouldn’t say I was in a groove until about a mile in.  But, from there on I was on a 4-stroke, breathe, 4-stroke, sight and breathe rhythm that I felt very comfortable with.  An entertaining part about the swim was wading around the turn-around buoy to start the second lap.  It’s not often in an open swim where you have about 2 minutes to take your goggles off, clean them, and chat with your fellow competitors.  Since the others around me are just as “gifted” in swimming as me, we reveled in the good fortunes of our moment.  The last 300 meters of the swim the lead wave in the half iron distance triathlon (which started 90 minutes after us) were quickly approaching and for fear of them swallowing me up, I “hammered” it home. 2.4 miles – 1:41:20

Wading through the swim turnaround!

Out of the water, finally!!

Going into this race, I already told myself I would take my time in transition, but I thought I’d be quicker.  I decided to wear Injinji socks to keep my toes from rubbing on the bike and run, however this proved to be a difficult task.  The previous night I put them on and rolled them down to the toes thinking on race day I would only have to put the toes in, and then roll them on.  So, I go to put one on in transition and end up with the heel on top of my foot… dang it!  50/50 chance and I blew it; that added about 2 minutes.  After changing and using the potty, I headed out to my bike, which wasn’t hard to spot there all by itself in the rack. Swim to bike transition – 11:48

As I head out on the bike my stomach isn’t feeling great, so I tuck the croissantwich in my bike jersey, just in case.  Now the bike is long, real long.  Lot’s of thinking time… too much.  I’ll spare every detail and just recap with random thoughts.  But, before that, I’ll give you my strategy going in… I had two options. One was to press my limit (20-21mph), without going over and see what I had left on the run – possibly bombing it.  Two was to go “comfortable” (18-19mph) and try to run fast. Keeping in mind, I’ve never done this race before…

0-6 miles: Wow, this road is bumpy. 21mph is feeling just like it should.  But, am I going downhill?

7-23 miles: Not too bad, average is good, I feel good.  Oh, there’s a random tractor/trailer taking up the whole road ahead of me going 15mph with bikes stacking up behind it… I go around on the left and the driver speeds up! WTF!

24-30 miles:  Up the first out-of seat-climb, my handle bars shift to the left, what?! Back story, I had the race mechanic work on my fork the day before because it wobbled.  Unfortunately he forgot to tighten the stem bolts and I took it straight to check-in so I didn’t realize either.  So, for the rest of the day I was off center in the aerobars, especially when climbing.  I wouldn’t say this slowed me down, but it wasn’t super comfortable and made me uneasy when turning.

How the bike should look...

How the bike DID look... (with loose stem bolts)

31-45 miles: On the first loop, getting passed by a few pros on their second loop.  I’m not too far off their pace?! Smooth road, rolling hills, average still around 20mph… seeing that 70 mile marker for the second loop was a little disheartening, next time by here I’ll only have 42 miles to go?!

46-56 miles: The most frustrating stretch of road I would get the pleasure of riding on twice in one day, newly chip and sealed, my pace drops to 18mph, but pressing more than the 20mph of before.  This stretch took too much out of me.  As we fellow riders passed each other, everyone would mumble to each other, “this road sucks, eh?”  This stretch on the second loop provided about 5 minutes of rain, which I actually appreciated.

57-112 miles:  I’ve included a large range of miles because after 60 miles it all blurs together.  My nutrition had been off due to a sour stomach and I was starting to get hungry.  I had found myself in scenario one and two for the bike; pressing, but only going 18mph.  At mile 70 I decided to stop and stretch out the legs and eat my croissantwich… good choice, I think I would have quit had I not done this.  During this stretch, I remember wondering to myself how much I could sell my bike for because I never wanted to do this again!  I had rode faster 80+ mile rides where I didn’t push as hard and didn’t have to run a marathon after!  The strangest part of the ride happened a hand full of times during the last 35 miles… I’m not sure if I had some sort of chemical imbalance or what, but I would think of Steph, wondering how she did in her race or that all I wanted was just to be sitting at home on the couch watching TV with her… and I would start to cry.  Not sobbing, but definitely tearing up.  This was followed by laughter because I couldn’t believe I was crying… was I going crazy?!  This happened a few times on the run as well when I anticipated seeing her at an upcoming mile marker.

Besides trying to decide whether to quit after the bike or run (and I must admit the entry fee played a roll in keeping me going), another serious contemplation as I approached transition was, “did I actually swim today?” I could only vaguely remember it, I felt like I had been on the bike all day.  112 miles – 6:09:36

Glad to be off that seat and on my feet!

This transition was even more laid back than the first, I decided I would start the run and see how it went.  Fortunately my support crew was there to cheer me up and urge me on.  I was tried joking with them to keep my spirits up, like,”wow, that sucked” and “I haven’t enjoyed a single minute of this race” (funny, huh?).  But seriously, I never thought the day would come that I would actually WANT to walk a marathon!  Steph was there with her finisher medal, which made me feel good about her race.  Rick told me there was no way he would let all of us drop out (meaning me) and Shiva was playing photographer (thanks!). Bike to run transition – 9:47

Changed and ready to "run"... a marathon!?

As I started the run, motivation of any time goals had dissipated, so I found my effort very hot and cold.  My first calculation was to multiply 17min/mi times 26.2 miles to get roughly 7 hours.  I had about 9 hours to finish before the cutoff, so I knew I could walk and still do it; a relief, but even less motivating to run fast.  I decided to walk through aid stations and run in between.  The first quarter of the race I found myself at 7:10min/mi when running, with about 30 seconds of walking for about 7:30 miles (3:16 marathon pace)!  While I knew this would be improbable to keep, I felt that the more time I banked, the slower I could walk if I needed, so on I went.  The second quarter of the run I kept up the pace, but my walks grew to about 60 seconds each time.  To be honest, my legs felt fine at this pace (actually worse at slower paces), but my back would tighten and make my breathing shallow… who’d thought that after 112 miles on the bike, my upper body would be hindering my run?  I came through halfway in 1:50 and in some form of cruel punishment, the turnaround was 50 meters from the finish line!

As I headed away from where I wanted to be, I pretty much packed it in and walked the next 2.5 miles.  My calf had showed signs of cramping up and the last thing I wanted was to become immobile, so better to walk it out.  Luckily, at about mile 16 Steph came out and joined me!  We walked the course and talked about each of our races and admired those around us… throwing in a mile jog every once in a while.  By this point I had formed a bit of a yo-yo group as I’ll call it.  When I was jogging I would pass them and when I was walking they’d pass me.  At this point my comfortable run pace was still about 8:00min/mi, so I felt bad about “flying” by people and would apologize to them when I was running; nothing is quite as demoralizing as trying to run and have someone blast by you!  Fortunately they understood and would see me again when I was walking.  This is the point when your chips are on the table, the game has been played and you look at those around you to see where you’ve measured up.  The first thing to come to mind is “don’t judge a book by its cover.”  I’m duking it out with a 61 year old, a not very athletic-looking woman, and a guy that looks like he should have been done two hours ago, yet we each give encouragement and joke with each other when we pass.  I have never been as humbled as I have in this experience.  *This is a good point to those who think they can’t do this event… I now believe that with the right state of mind, patience, and a consistent training regimen, MANY people could finish an iron distance triathlon.  A 2 hour swim, 8 hour bike, and 7 hour marathon would be a looong day, but still meet the cutoff and is not fast by any means… consider it?!  Anyway…

When Steph left me to drive to the finish at mile 22, I told her I would try to run half of the remaining miles to break 13 hours, but once I got going and I was actually headed in the direction of the finish I felt the end nearing and was able to bring it in at 8:00min/mi pace with a 7:15 last mile!  I asked Steph to join me at the finish and at first I didn’t think she was able to get back in time, but just before the final turn she appeared with a huge smile waving and bringing another tear to my eye.  Crossing the finish line was very surreal; no collapse, no sense of elation, it just hadn’t sunk in.  I’ll tell you when it did sink in… when I woke up the next morning.  It had sunk in plenty as I hobbled to breakfast! 26.2 miles – 4:31:57

140.6 miles – 12:44:29

The finish goodies...

I expect a few things in the coming days and weeks… first, the feeling in my legs.  Second, the achievement setting in and a sense of pride in the accomplishment; I think how I felt in the race and my slower than expected time leave me with just a shade of “unfinished” feeling that I’m sure will go away.  Third, I expect to find my interest to give it another go, which is currently on empty, to find itself creeping back up in my mind.  I will say, now that this life goal is accomplished, I only see myself trying again if I really put 100% focus in training for it to see how fast I can go.

I appreciate the support and well wishes I received from many people in this endeavor.  The iron distance triathlon still remains a pinnacle of achievement in endurance sports and I am proud to become a part of this group. 

Sunrise to sunset... done!

Psst - Steph finished the half rev, 70.3 miles! See Steph's race report here.

Psst - Want to see lots more race reports for Ironman, marathon, 5k, bike, and swim races? Steph's blog is dedicated just to that: My Race, My Story