Chasing the Fat Man

Well, it is early morning, November 3. Post-Ironman day #1. It’s in the bank. The fat lady has sung. I’ll come back to that in a moment. My mind is still processing the experience but I thought it might interest a few people who will probably never be crazy enough to do an Ironman, to learn a little about the day. So for those, and anyone else who cares, here is a brief synopsis of the day.

 

     The Swim: Alarm went off at 4 AM. Time for a bagel with peanut butter and honey, OJ, and a glass of milk with Ovaltine and Nescafe. Then off to drop off final bags of “stuff” I might need at halfway points on the bike ride and run. Finally, suit up and head to beach. Thursday the winds and surf were more suited to a professional surfing competition than a swim. Saturday AM the winds had died to nothing and the Gulf was all gentle rollers with 2-3 waves breaking. Perfect. Milling around the beach waiting for the cannon to start, all the energy, anticipation, excitement, and nervousness are reaching a critical mass. Sally said the mass start looked like a scene of sea turtles hatchlings heading out to sea ‘en mass’, all bobbing heads and flying elbows, that looked like flippers. I seeded myself with the group anticipating a 1:30-1:45 hr swim. I figured that was realistic. Air temp was in high 50’s making the 75 degree water feel great. Once past the breakers, the swim was very comfortable, if you could ignore the kicks, punches, people pulling on you, etc. To get some idea, imagine an aquatic version of a mosh pit in a heavy metal concert. I was pummeled, kicked, pulled, pushed, and that was before heading into the water! Just kidding. In the water, though, this was true and one heel caught me square in the right eye. Fortunately, the googles, which are squishy, catch the force and other than having it plastered against my face, I was none the worse. Only the next day did I discover that it knocked the prescription lens free inside the google, which was secured with silicone glue. At least I didn’t lose the lens. After the first two turns, the crowd spaced out but I always knew when the turn buoy was approaching because everyone would bunch up to cut as close as possible to the buoy. The swim was my favorite part and I thought of my Dad, who was a college swimmer and always swam so smoothly. I tried to emulate him as well as I could. Final time on the swim: 1:25:53, my fastest time ever.

 

Transition 1 (swim to bike)- a large room full of naked men changing out of wet clothes into biking gear as fast as they can. Enough said. 18:59 minutes here.

 

 Bike: As to my fat lady reference, I’m going to call this section “Chasing the Fat Man” because that’s what I did. There was one rider who was, shall we say, a bit overweight. From the back, in his black spandex bike shorts, he looked like a bowling ball with legs. We leap frogged each other for hours. I kept thinking that, surely, I could outride this guy but every time I passed him and pulled ahead, sure enough, a little while later, he would do the same. To tell the truth, I never noticed who had the lead by the time we came to the end of the ride. I never saw him after that. I guess it does prove that you can be “fit and fat”. The course was great except for one “out and back” at midpoint that took over some of the most rutted roads I have ever ridden. Lance Armstrong’s assertion that “it’s not about the bike” takes on new meaning knowing that he doped for year, but it is still true today. My mid-level Trek Madone road bike with aero bars was definitely on the low end of the scale compared to the state-of-the-art tri bikes on display, which made up at least 2/3 of the bikes used. Some of those puppies were easily in the $7000-10,000 range. Well, I passed a lot more tri bikes than passed me (ha!), including some of those killer machines with carbon disc aero wheels. I felt like my bike was just slicing through the air and, at moments, it seemed like I was pedaling to just stay with it. I know we tend to treat our favorite vehicles, cars, boats, etc. more like a pet than an inanimate object, with names and such, but my bike was a thoroughbred and, once out of the gate it took the bit and just ran and ran. It was smooth and steady. It got me out and back in good form and I tried to save a little in the tank for the run. Good boy, little Trek Madone. When I get home, I’ll feed you a little chain lube and give you a good rub down.

Time: 6:22:18 for an average speed of 17.58 mph- my fastest ride ever. To think I was hoping to average around 16 mph…..I’m still not sure how I did that.

 

Transition 2 (bike to run): Ditto transition 1. Time here was 15:15.

 

   The Run- I was blown away that it was only around 3 o’clock when I dismounted my bike and I had over 8 hours to finish the marathon. My hope was to have enough time for the marathon, in case I bonked, that I would be able to finish in time even if I had to walk much of the way. My dream goal was to run the distance with planned walking through the water stops to get food and water. Starting out on a run after a 112 mile bike ride, one’s legs are totally discombobulated; the muscles don’t know what to do with themselves. You have been turning the pedals for so long in a circular motion, using particular muscle groups that to switch over takes time. For the first 2-3 miles, the recurring thought I had was, “I’m not going to make it.” My legs weren’t working right, I was very uncomfortable, and I could not imagine dragging this out for the 6-7 hours I figured the run would take. Then, a wonderful thing happened, the muscles sorted themselves out and all of sudden I felt surprisingly comfortable. The prospect of finishing now looked very doable. I focused on a few key thoughts. Over the last 13 miles, except for these, my mind was a near total blank. They were, in this order: 1. Light, quick steps- keeping a good fast cadence. Running lightly was something that Karl tried to drill into me for the run in our sessions together. This worked like a charm 2. Stay focused and centered- I tried to drown out distractions although, of course, I had to high five a few of the enthusiastic crowd and I had a couple of conversations with other runners. 3. Conserve energy- in the second half of the marathon, I was passing people who were relegated to walking almost continuously. I wanted to ration my energy so that it would last for the distance. I am proud that I was able to do that. When I realized that I actually had a chance to break 14 hours, something I never imagined in my most optimistic moments, you could have knocked me over with the proverbial feather. With each closing mile, you can feel the anticipation, emotion, and energy begin to ramp up. In the last mile, you can hear the crowd, and the announcer…….”(name), YOU……ARE……AN IRONMAN!!!!!”
You know your turn will come soon. It is the payoff for a year or more of sweat, sacrifice, determination, and, often, pain. It may not seem like much, but very few people will ever get a chance to hear those words, and it is enough. They were music to my ears. Final time for the run: 5:14:08.

 

Final finishing time: 13:36:33 hours. Sing, fat lady, sing.