Race Report - Ironman Cozumel - Nov. 27, 2011

Race Report
Ironman Cozumel
Nov. 27, 2011

Pre-race:

Paige, Cassidy, Kendra and I arrived in Cozumel on the evening of Tuesday Nov. 22 after a full day of travel (3 car rides, 2 flights, and a ferry ride). One of my first observations was just how humid it was and how much I was immediately sweating.  That made me glad that I’d have 5 days to acclimatize and reminded me to stick to my plan of hydrating during the days prior to the race.  My friend Jason Hann, who was also racing, and his family had arrived earlier that day and we hooked up with them the next morning.  We were at an all-inclusive, kid-friendly resort about 15 minutes south of downtown Cozumel, and the next few days were a good mix of family vacation and race preparation.  We went into town most of the days to do something race-related (register, pick up bikes, pre-race meeting, etc.), but also had some good pool and beach time at our resort.  Jason and I got in one last easy ride, run, and swim and rested up.  I felt pretty well prepared, although I was a bit worried that I hadn’t done enough long rides (by far the most time-consuming part of IM training) and that I may have tapered just a tad too much, as I got pretty busy with work and life the last couple weeks before the race.  I kept telling myself, though, that “the hay is in the barn” and that I was ready.   Having already done one other Ironman helped my mental state tremendously, and for the most part I was relaxed and calm.  I did find myself a bit nervous and detached the afternoon and evening before the race as my head spun about last-minute preparations (bag packing, fuel preparation, logistics, etc.) and I tried to visualize each component of the race.  I got to bed at a decent hour Saturday night with my alarm set for 4:30 (and a back-up set for  4:35).

Race day:

As I anticipated, neither of the alarms were necessary and I was up on my own about 4:20 having had a pretty good night sleep.  I did final fuel prep – mixing two 3-hour bottles of Perpetuem for the ride and four fuel-belt bottles of my Perpetuem/HammerGel/water “paste” for the run, and distributing 42 Endurolyte tablets and 24 Advil throughout my various race gear and attire.  Breakfast was a 1.5-hour bottle of Perpetuem, a Clif bar, 3 Endurolytes, all my vitamins, and a caffeinated energy drink.  I drank two bottles of water throughout the morning and felt sufficiently fueled and hydrated.  I was also able to take care of that ever-so-important morning-of-a-big-race task in the bathroom before leaving the hotel.

I met Jason in the lobby and we boarded the shuttle to the swim start.  I could feel that nervous/excited energy pulsing through the mix of casual conversation and silent meditation on the bus.  I did some of both, and listened to a bit of music on my trusted training companion iPod shuffle, which has 4 days of awesome music yet somehow seems like it’s always repeating.  I guess that means I did enough run training!

We got to the start and did final prep – pump up tires, load bottles, get numbered, apply sunscreen, etc.  We saw our friends Tracey and Kristina and walked out to the dock to get ready to enter the water.  Waiting along the edge of the fence separating the spectators from the race was Paige, Cassidy, Kendra and Jason’s family.  Seeing my family there to cheer me on got me all choked up and further buoyed my spirits. They are amazingly supportive of my training and racing, for which I am eternally grateful, and seeing them throughout the race is like a shot of emotional and physical adrenaline every time.  I love them so much and seeing them right before the race was the perfect sendoff.

Despite the promise of a pre-race dolphin show, the officials were herding everyone into the water even though it was still 15 minutes before the official start time.  I waited as long as I could, then jumped off the dock into the water and maneuvered pretty close to the front. The field was starting to push forward past the starting line, so a minute or so after they announced 4 minutes until the start, the horn sounded and we were off!  Fortunately I was ready and started stroking.  The spectators got to see the dolphin show after we started, but those of us in the water were now focused on the next 140.6 miles.

The Swim:

The swim for Ironman Cozumel is spectacular.  The water is warm (no wetsuits allowed, which as a swimmer I like) and crystal clear.  Along the entire route you can see the scuba divers they have positioned for safety and fish swimming through the 30 feet of water between you and the mostly sandy bottom.  The first couple hundred yards or so were relatively smooth in terms of traffic, but things got completely bunched up at each of the first few buoys and swimming became a full-contact sport, with hands, feet, knees, and elbows flying and colliding.  I remained calm and steady throughout the melee, and after a half mile or so I got into some open water and a nice rhythm (despite the guy drafting off me and touching my feet every other stroke for 40 minutes.  I don’t mind people drafting off me in the swim, but if you’re going to hitch a ride at least have the courtesy not to continually touch your draftee’s feet!).  I had a smooth, comfortable swim, rarely exerting myself, and cruised to a 58:24 swim split.  That was about 5 minutes faster than my last Ironman and I felt awesome.  I got out of the water, ran past my cheering family, and spent 5:46 in T1 gearing up for the long ride ahead.

The Bike:

The dominant descriptor for the bike route in this race is FLAT.  In 112 miles there was no rise steeper than my driveway or longer than a city block.  What can affect the race fairly significantly, though, is the wind.  The course is 3 loops around the bottom, then through the middle of the island, and the south and eastern sides of the island are pretty exposed.  On race day the wind was primarily east to west, which meant a headwind for the shorter (5-7 mile) section along the southern stretch then a cross-wind up the longer (15 mile) eastern side.  This was good news to me, as a cross wind slows you down a bit but isn’t nearly as bad as a headwind for the longest section of exposed course.

I felt great on the bike and settled into a nice rhythm (easy to do on a flat course).  I was averaging about 20 mph down the western side of the island, then only slowed down to 17 or so for the windy section.  Crossing the center of the island brought a big tailwind, which got me back up into the 20’s.  The first lap flew by and I did a good job of maintaining my fuel, water, and electrolyte intake plan: a couple sips of Perpetuem every 20 minutes (pacing to finish each bottle in 3 hours), drinking and dousing myself with a new water bottle between aid stations, and 3 electrolyte tablets/hour. 

I was feeling really good on the bike as I passed our family cheering section, complete with cowbells and hand-made signs, after the first lap.  A tiny voice in my head told me I might be pushing a bit too hard, but the one that said “you feel awesome – keep it up” drowned it out.  Just prior to the turn into the headwind on the second lap, a large group of 15-20 riders came up on me.  They weren’t going much faster than I was and I latched on to ride in the pack for a while.  I know that drafting is not allowed in Ironmans, and if I were a professional or competitive in my age group I would be very opposed to the practice, but where I am in the pack I think you take what the race gives you, and this race gave me a group of riders going about my pace on the same part of the course I was on.  The group would splinter a bit at the aid stations then regroup into smaller packs afterward, and that lasted for about 20 miles.  The pace was a little faster than I was shooting for, so even though I wasn’t using as much energy by riding in the pack I eventually backed off and settled into my own rhythm.  Another great tailwind pushed me across the middle of the island, then I started back down the west side for the 3^rd and final lap.  One of the only logistical bummers of the day for me and the family happened when I rode past their designated viewing point a couple minutes before they arrived back there; I had given them a time range of when I would pass and was 5-10 minutes ahead of my best-case scenario!   Fortunately I saw the wife of an Aussie racer that we had befriended during the week and I told her to tell my family they just missed me.  My (and their) disappointment in not seeing each other was offset by the excitement around my accelerated pace.

The third lap continued to feel good, although the “you’re going too fast” voice was a little more persistent.  More than once I thought about the “matchbook” analogy for triathlons – you start each race with a finite number of matches, which correspond to bursts of sped or energy, and once you burn one it’s gone, and when you burn the last one in the book there are no more.   I definitely burned my share on the ride, but I kept telling myself there were still more in the book.  I also made one fueling mistake on the 3^rd lap and fell off my nutrition plan just a bit because I was feeling so good.  I didn’t quite finish my second bottle of Perpetuem and probably didn’t take in as much water as I should have as a brief rain shower cooled us down.  Nevertheless, I cruised into T2 having cranked out a 5:47 bike leg – beyond my wildest dreams.  I took my time in T2 reapplying BodyGlide and sunscreen and getting my shoes, visor, and FuelBelt on.  As I started the run right at the 7 hour mark, with visions of a sub-12 hour race in my head, I remember this thought going through my mind: “I have felt better every minute of this race than I ever felt during my first Ironman!”

The Run:

After 1 mile on the run, this thought went through my mind: “There wasn’t a minute of my first Ironman during which I felt as bad as I feel right now!”

I saw my family as I began the run and it had its usual, awesome, inspiring, effect on me.  I felt the standard post-ride rubbery wooziness in my legs, but I trudged through a 9-minute first mile.  “That’s great,” I thought, “I’ve got a couple minutes/mile to slow down to and still have a great race.”

And then, the proverbial piano fell out of the sky and landed on me. 

Ugh!  Already?  I figured I would hit that point eventually, but this early?  I was seriously bummed.  I was dizzy, light-headed, and having trouble focusing my vision.  The thought of trying to suck down my fuel paste disgusted me and I honestly thought I might not finish, much less break 12 hours or my 13:32 from Coeur d’Alene.  “I’m never doing another Ironman again”, I thought.

At that point I needed a few things – some mental toughness, a plan, and something that tasted good to consume.  For inspiration, I remembered many of the anecdotes I had just read in Iron Will (about the beginning of triathlon as a sport and the Ironman in particular) and in Iron War (the book about Dave Scott, Mark Allen, and their incredible battle in the 1989 Ironman).  It’s said that at that point in an Ironman it’s basically mental (although physically I was completely fatigued and out of fuel), so I tried to rally myself.

As far as a plan, I began executing what I call my “Ironman Shuffle”.  I walk 100 paces, then run 200 paces.  Then repeat.  Then repeat again.  Then repeat again.  When I hit an aid station, I walk thru the aid station then start the cycle again.  Then do it again.  You get the picture.  I like this routine for a couple reasons: 1) I don’t have to think about it; It’s just a repetitive pattern.  I’m not negotiating with myself to run to the next light pole or start running when I pass the next tree.  And 2), I can knock out “reasonable” paced (+/- 13-minute) miles doing it.  I feel like I can recover in 100 paces and keep up a good pace for 200 before the fatigue sets in, and that that’s faster than jogging slowly or walking.  So while it was a good 10 or 15 miles before I anticipated having to start the “shuffle”, I started it and said to myself “If I have to do this for 25 miles I will”.

I began sampling everything in the aid stations.  Normal Gatorade began tasting good, as did the occasional sip of Pepsi.  Probably not the calories that my body needed at that point, but I was in survival mode and I could stomach those things.  So that’s what it would be.  Gradually I started to feel better, and my mood and outlook improved dramatically over the next several miles.

The next few hours are kind of a blur, as we did the 8.7 mile out and back 3 times, but I remember several things:
-It rained.  Hard.  For like 45 minutes.  It also rained during the run on my first Ironman, and I remember thinking “so I guess it rains on the run when I do Ironmans”.  Shoes and clothes got sopped.  Every step was squishy.   I could feel the blisters forming.  Oh, and one of the streets flooded, so 6 times we had to walk through 8-10 inches of water for 25 yards.  Ugh.

-The crowd.  Cozumel goes crazy for the race and the entire island comes out to support it.  The mayor gives everyone the day off the next day so it’s like a holiday to them.  Despite the rain they were out in force clapping, cheering, and drumming the length of the run course.  It helps a ton.

-Seeing my family.  Paige and the girls were stationed right before the turnaround (miles 9 and 18) and seeing them twice in a 2-minute span each time I passed buoyed me incredibly.  Every time I saw them I got a huge rush of emotion and energy.  Those turnarounds were two of the few times I broke my “Ironman Shuffle” pattern as I ran confidently past them blowing kisses and high-fiving.

I’m always doing math in my head while training, and this race was no different.  I think it started during all my long swimming workouts as a kid, when you’re alone with your thoughts and the pace clock.  I’m constantly calculating elapsed, split, and projected times.  At some point I felt pretty good about breaking my Coeur d’Alene time.  And then about breaking 13 hours (my stated goal for this race).  And then I set my sights on 12:45.

I didn’t have any miraculous recovery or sprint finish, but I trudged through the entire run and picked it up just a bit for the last half mile or so.  I saw Paige and the girls in the bleachers along the finish chute and I waved and pumped my fist in the air as I approached what one triathlon writer called “the gates of heaven” – the finish line of an Ironman.  My final time was 12:42:15, a full 40 minutes faster than my previous Ironman.  I was overcome with the enormity of the moment and ecstatic about my results.  I saw my family shortly thereafter and hugged and thanked them for their love and support.  They rock.

And at some point in the last 5 hours of the race, and in the days since, another thought began creeping into my head: “I think I could break 12 hours for one of these…”