Ford Ironman Wisconsin - TriathlonFull Ironman

My best leg of the day! Not that often I get to say that about the swim. Last year's strategy had worked well so I lined up in roughly the same spot: 10-15 feet north of the boat ramp and about 3-4 rows back. Same approach, different result. I was beat up and smacked around worse than any other race I've been in. This lasted for the majority of the first lap and really didn't get much better after that. I took some particularly hard shots to the back of the head and a few charlie horses on my calf and hammy that persisted until the end of the swim. It also seemed that for every shot I took I was a watch magnet. It wasn't just a hand hitting me, it was a wristwatch scraping along my side, arm, leg, head, whatever. I've never noticed that in a swim before. Anywho, swam shoulder to shoulder to the first buoy, mooed, and then continued along the way. I fully expected things to open up on the way back but they didn't. I glanced at my watch at the halfway point and saw 36 minutes which is about what I expected, but still surprising with all the contact. The second loop was much of the same and couldn't wait to get out the water.

I don't know. I'm not sure there's a safe way to navigate that course when you're a MOP swimmer

Well if you've been to this IM you know this is a long transition. Long run up the the helix, run inside the terrace, grab bag, change and grab nutrition, run back outside, run to the other end of transition, grab bike, get to the mount line and realize your pedal is at the top of the stroke (wait, maybe that's just me), and then finally mounting the bike.

Um, the pedal thing. Other than sprinting up the parking ramp I'm not sure what else to do here to bring this down. I was satisfied.

I love this bike course. Just love it. Wish I had something fun like this to ride around home. I have to ride like 30 miles to encounter some semblance of hill. This course has them in abundance.

The strategy here was simple. Ride easy for until the end of the first loop and pick up the pace if I thought it was necessary. Last year I went out hard the first two loops and paid dearly on the way back into Madison. I knew I didn't have the same amount of bike fitness as last year (evidenced in earlier races) and didn't want to make this too brutal.

So I took off nice and easy and watched people zoom by me in the first few miles along the stick. Oh well, stick to the strategy. This isn't a local sprint. At the first aid station I discarded my water bottle and grabbed a new one. Well, they were using those same damn bottle with cut off lids that leak all over in an aerobar bottle cage. This same thing happened at IMKS this year and I highly debated using a profile design bottle and pouring water into it, but since they had used decent bottles last year and a friend had informed me that they had used decent bottles at IMLP I decided not to. Option 2 was swapping the bottle of infinit in the downtube cage for the water bottle in the aero cage. There, problem solved........or so I thought.

Well, it was cool to start and I was enjoying the ride so I got distracted and didn't drink much to start. I hit the next aid station and thought, "wow I haven't drank much. That water bottle from the last aid station should be pretty full so I shouldn't have to grab another." So shortly after I reach down to grab it and realize it had ejected at some point in the past few miles. Now I had to wait until the next aid station for water. I sipped on the concentrated infinit, but chugging that for hydration was going to put far too many calories into my system at once. I just waited until Mount Horeb to get one, but in hindsight I realize that I had gone 20-30 miles without fluids and really put myself behind the eight ball early on.

On the way to Mount Horeb I ran into my bike twin. Some woman passes me and says nice bike. She was riding a 3 year old grey POS P2SL too (can you tell I want a new bike). A passed here again later on for good and asked if she wanted a new bike too. She replied with an emphatic yes. After Mount Horeb the real fun was about to start with the hills and I enjoyed it as much as I could. I still a pansy when it comes to descending and cornering so I scrubbed a lot of speed that way, but it was still fun. I marveled at all the spectators again. It's amazing how all these people come out to urge on all of us. Every cheer from a stranger makes you feel so special, and you really feel like a pro at the top of their game.

I reached the 3 big climbs and didn't suffer too bad the first time around. Spun up in an easy gear and didn't have to get out of the saddle. With my lack of bike fitness I was worried these were going to hurt badly. The costumes were ridiculous this year. Some guy was wearing a rubber set of naked boobs, which was hilarious because he was rubbing them and yelling at the girl climbing next to me, "You like these, don't you?" There were plenty of speedo clad crazies, including chasingkona (Ben) who topped off the look with an aero helmet and American flag cape. The middle hill is the best though, as the spectators close in to about three feet wide, yelling and screaming at you like you're leading the charge up Alp d'Huez in the Tour. Truly amazing.

I left the first pass through the hills behind, satisfied with how they turned out. A few miles later I knew we were closing in on Verona that made me excited. The first loop was almost over and I still felt good. Rolled into town and was more concerned with grabbing some water than spotting my parents. I didn't see them, which was disappointing, but continued on my way. At the end of the first loop I did some quick math and determined I was riding about 18 mph. That was acceptable to me. Slower than last year, but it could very well allow me to shave 20+ minutes off the marathon time, which is where I had determined I would make my biggest time gains.

I decided to keep the effort about the same for the second since it seemed to be working, but apparently effort did not equal pace as I found out later on. I noticed a little wind at the start of the second loop, but it was minor and didn't really bother me. Lot's of hills and trees to shelter you. It warmed up a bit too, and I started going through an entire bottle of water between aid stations. I had switched back to the aerobar cage at this point was happy when the aid stations left the lids on (about 50% of the time) because I wouldn't lose half of it along the way.

I remember seeing two of my favorite signs of the day out on my second loop. The first one was a simple but eloquent, "Don't Suck!" I thought that was good advice and I strove to follow it. I think the second one was made for the sole purpose of provoking laughter. All it said was, "Never trust a fart." It succeeded in its purpose and I'm still snickering about it and trying figure what exactly that means

Hit the 3 hills with gusto and still felt good going up. I saw the mile marker at mile 90 and was surprised at how good I felt. I honestly don't know if I had ever felt that good at mile 90 of any ride. I also noticed how slow I had ridden the second loop and figured that may have had something to do with it. I thought to myself, "you only have a little over an hour of riding left. Hit it hard if you want." And I did just that. I passed a lot of people and was feeling real good and smug. Suckers, went out too hard and can't bring it in. That was me last year.

I flew for several miles. Made it to Verona and the funniest part of the ride happened then. As I was rolling in a group of about 10 spectators ran out into the street right at me. They were all yelling, "Go Jeff!!!" and as I got real close and they realized I was indeed not Jeff, and tthen went silent. Then, in a blatant attempt to cover up their mistake they all started cheering boisterously a split second later. I laughed all the way through Verona. This time around I saw mom and dad and the giant sign my mom had made for me. Yes!!!!! What a boost!! I waved and yelled and rode that high as long as I could.

Unfortunately about 6 miles to go my quads starting cramping going up a hill. Not good. Sucked down the rest of my infinit and some water and they subsided. Next hill, more cramps. Drained the water. I figured I was close enough to Madison that it wouldn't be a big deal. Then I was coming up on another hill and while shifting into the small chainring I dropped my chain. WTF! This is the first time I've ever dropped a chain the four seasons I've ridden and maintained this bike. I wasn't even on the hill yet, just the flat leading up to it. I hopped off and immediately cramped painfully. Some spectator offer me a stick to help put the chain back on. Ummmm....no I'll use my hands and wipe them on my shorts thank you. Got back on and climbed up the hill fully seizing up. I didn't shift out of the small ring the rest of the way back, fearing I would screw anything up further. The miles crawled back to the terrace but once it came into view it was an amazing sight. Soon enough I was climbing the helix and passing the bike off.

I was hoping for +18mph and with proper training should really be close to 20:

BIKE SPLIT 1: 54 mi 54 mi (2:57:27) 18.26 mi/h
BIKE SPLIT 2: 94 mi 40 mi (2:29:21) 16.07 mi/h
BIKE SPLIT 3: 112 mi 18 mi (57:35) 18.76 mi/h
TOTAL BIKE 112 mi (6:24:23) 17.48 mi/h

Hydrate better. Not lose a water bottle. I didn't realize until later how much this impacted me.

I handed off the bike and headed inside. It felt great to sit for a bit and put the running gear on. My volunteer was great and helped me with everything. He asked how things were going and I flat out told him how I felt at the time: I biked a little slower than last year, but I think I can beat my 4:20 marathon time. And that's honestly how I felt. I zipped out of there much quicker than last year (thanks to no port-o-potty stop) and was on my way

Nothing. I felt I took plenty of time to get everything taken care of, but was still speedy. This was actually the only area I took time off from the previous year. Haha.

Sitting down for a few minutes had rejuvenated me. Running out of transition I hopped over the curb and clicked my heels in the air, excited to get going. At that point I noticed the large amount of white salt on the chest of my jersey and along my arms from evaporated sweat. I hadn't realized I had sweated that much. That wasn't a good sign. I kept an eye out for my parents near the start of the run and they were just around the north side of the capitol building. I came over and gave my mom a sweaty hug because she enjoyed it so much last year. I told them, "I'm slower, but I'll finish" I guess that was the truth.

Things started to fall apart quickly. The plan was to walk every third aid station, and only a little of that if possible until I could do that no longer. I ran through the first one and grabbed some water as I went by. Shortly after the first of a nightlong series of cramps hit my legs. I ran through them for a bit, bolstered by the crowds along state st, particularly the loud shouts of a friend of mine who had come up to cheer along us Amesenites(?) who were doing the race. I waved, surprised to see him and lumbered along. The cramps made me walk before the next aid station. Not good.

Okay, the new plan was to take in a cup of Perform and two cups of water at the next aid station. Sports drink has usually helped the early onset run cramps subside in previous races, particularly in my sub-5 HIM where I cramped out of the gate and recovered to run a 1:33. Why wouldn't that work here?

I took off running again and it was laborious just to move forward. It was taking a huge effort and I was just plodding along at what seemed like a crawl. Cramps hit again and I had to walk again. I somehow made it to the next aid station and did the Perform/water load up again. It had to start working at some point in time.

Nope. I was soon walking again. It was then I noticed I was feeling light headed and I glanced at my arms and noticed the goosebumps all along them. I was chilled and knew at this point I was much more dehydrated than originally thought. I had gotten this way a few times on run in 90+ heat this summer and immediately headed home to limit the damage. I didn't have that luxury here. I needed to cool down to have a chance at recovery and salvaging some semblance of a run.

At the next aid station I grabbed two cups of ice and tossed them down the back of the jersey to cool the core. Then cold, wet sponges stuffed in the jersey along my neck and finally two cups of water to drink and a cup of ice to chew on. I walked and enjoyed my ice until it was gone and jogged to the next aid station. Lather. Rinse. Repeat at every aid station, with some additional calories thrown in there since the cramps were still hitting hard when I was trying to run.

I had a nice big cup of ice to enjoy going up Observatory hill, which was nice because it was a big long hill and I was in no shape to attempt to run up it. The first pass through the other side of state street I actually managed to run the entirety of it. Again the crowds were great, and, I hesitate to say this since I know they are going to be reading this and I don't want to make them feel bad because they truly are the best support crew a guy could ask for, I really wanted to see a familiar face at that point. I thought for sure I would see mom and dad at that point, but I didn't. I let the crowd carry me through the turn around and back to the aid station where I resumed walking. I rationalized that they had been anticipating a faster pace and had just missed me.

I was only, what, 4-5 miles into the marathon and already dejected, hurting, and really just wanting to curl up on the side of the road and stop moving forward. There was not much for crowds along the lake front path. I was kind of stumbling, definitely not keeping a straight line, and shuffling in some drunken interpretation of a run when I could will myself to. I took in some chicken broth at the next aid station. That did the trick a couple of times last year and I really needed a pick me up, but I got nothing out of it. It was at this point in time that I was beginning to suspect that all the calories I had taken in were not getting absorbed. My gut was full, I was still dehydrated, and cramps were as bad as ever.

I hit the timing mat at mile 9 and didn't bother to do the math to see how slow I was going. I knew it was slow. I knew a PR was out the window and DNF seemed far more likely at this point. Then I hit the message screen and got a really weird message. I thought it was from my mom, but she said later she hadn't had time to leave one. All it said was, "You win. Thanks" I tried not to be irritated because if it was her I'm sure the intentions were good, but really?? I don't win. I'm barely "running" if you want to call it that. This is a slow pathetic performance that I don't want to even associate myself with. If I get a chance I'll strike my name from the official results. Thank you?? For what? A slow, crappy run time that is likely going to be beaten by men and women decades older than men. Yeah, you're welcome for that whoever you are. I was so angry and frustrated and just disappointed with how things were going at that point that I could feel the tears starting to well up. Really, now you feel so sorry for yourself that you're going to cry during an Ironman? In my best Tom Hanks voice I said, "There's no crying in Ironman," and shuffled along in a fit of rage, despair, and sadness.

The next four miles were kind of blurry. I think I was weaving/stumbling/ shuffling pretty good, just taking water and ice at the aid stations. The sun was starting to go down and that helped to cool. At some point the goosebumps subsided and I thought that was a good sign. I was still holding out hope that things would turn around for loop two. I just needed to get to special needs.

Somehow, eventually, miraculously I made it there. My parents were nearby too!!! I complained with some other guy nearby having to go out on the second loop instead of the finish chute. Then I told my parents about the dehydration and suspected gut full o calories that were just sitting there. I sat down at special needs and it was glorious. Changed socks, took tums, took tylenol, rubbed ben gay on the knees/quads since they were in a world of hurt. I really didn't want to get up at that point, but the marathon wasn't going to finish itself.

I felt good running after that, almost as good as coming out of transition. For awhile I thought, "Wouldn't it be awesome if I negative split this marathon?" And I seriously thought I would. But maybe a mile in the cramps hit again. I tried to massage them out for a bit but they wouldn't budge. I didn't know what to do nutrition-wise at that point. I knew I had ingested plenty of calories at that point. They just hadn't done any good. No since in filling my gut up even more, but I still tried the occasional coke or chicken broth to see if there was still a jump start possible. There wasn't.

So just when I thought nothing could be as miserable as the first loop I experienced the second loop in all of its humbling, spirit crushing, soul sucking glory. I entered Camp Randall Stadium the second time around and knew I was in trouble when I took all I could give to run around the perimeter of the football field, which is what like 340some odd yards around? Oh crap.

I was walking around the outside of it a bit later on and heard my name. It was Ben! And thankfully he had traded the speedo and cape for regular attire. I stopped and talked to him for a bit. No matter how many strangers offer you encouragement along the way, nothing beats seeing someone you know. I put on my tough face, laughed off my predicament, and ensured him I was going to finish hell or high water (true statement).

I ran for a bit after that. Things started to blur together again. Next thing I remember was walking up observatory hill and having some girl walking next to me say, "That's the last time you'll see that hill." "Not unless I sign up again," I said. She laughed and left me in the dust. And that's kind of how it was on the second loop. I've read plenty of race reports about people finding a "walk buddy" to help them along, but my walk was so slow that all the walkers were zooming past me. I would play leapfrog a bit when I ran but I was pretty much left to my own madness at that point. It was a lonely way to progress.

I can't remember where exactly mile seventeen was, but I had my second near crying meltdown. I know it wasn't a good thing mentally to do but I took note of where I was when 11:46, last year's finishing time, hit my watch. It was mile 17. I still had over 9 fricking miles to go and at the rate I was "running" it was going to be another 2.5 hours until I saw the capitol again! At that point I told myself to stop wallowing in self pity and move. At state st I tried to run its entirety, but I couldn't. I must have looked a little delirious because a nice lady asked me if I was eating anything. Yeah. I had tried a little of everything. Chips, oranges, cookies, pretzels, bananas, chicken broth, grapes, you name it.

I kept going though. The lake front path was dark. I didn't like it. I was swerving enough the way it was. Last thing I needed was to trip in the dark. Hit the timing mat eventually and knew I only had 4 miles to go. I thought about how many easy four mile runs I've done and how it wouldn't be long before the finish line was in sight. But this wasn't a normal run. It was an Ironman death march.

Eventually a guy next to me asked how things were going. I told him okay and it took me a minute to recognize dave (dmmdds) whom I had met at last year's race. We talked for a bit went through an aid station and then he pushed on ahead. Just a few more miles now, close enough the finish was no longer in question for me. I continued my strategy of picking out a landmark (telephone pole, stop sign, etc.) and running to it. If I felt good I'd keep going for a bit longer. These seemed to get me by for the majority of that second loop.

Within a mile of the finish I was just happy to be done. Another person close by asked how I was doing. I mumbled, "okay." He kept talking to me and I remember thinking, "What the hell, dude? Leave me alone. I just want to focus on one foot in front of the other and keep moving." Again, my powers of observation were dulled. It took me a few seconds to recognize Phil. 1TT!! While I knew I was nearing the finish those kind words were exactly what I needed for a last minute boost. He went on about how there were just a couple of turns and that then I could use crowds on state st. and then around the capitol to carry me in. I told him it was the plan to use them for sure and continued walking until I got there.

Then I ran and followed his advice to tee. Up state then around the capitol. The pain was excruciating and I swear the block surrounding the capitol that you had to run around was not square, but octagonal. There were so many turns before the finish chute. At the last turn I sprinted past a girl shuffling along just because I wanted the chute to myself.

I was flying, cramps and dehydration be damned. All the pain, misery, self doubt, anger, frustration, and despair disappear when you are running down that chute. I slowed down to savor it a bit and hear Mike Reilly call me a 2x Ironman, high fived some strangers, and raised my arms as I crossed the line. At that point it didn't really matter how long it had taken me. I was an Ironman again

Lots of second guessing here. I hindsight it's easy to question yourself even if you have a good race, and after adding 2:45 to my IM time it's even easier. Could I have run more than I did? Could I have gotten myself back on track early on by stopping for 20 minutes and trying to hydrate and cool? Who knows

Does plopping down on a park bench count? My catchers were awesome. They took care of me and helped me get my finisher's gear and picture. I debated heading to medical but decided to just put down some fluids and see how I felt. I must have seemed okay because they let me go out after just a few minutes. I sat and drank water and my dad was kind enough to go get my bike. By the time we got back to the hotel I was feeling normal enough to actually enjoy a post race beer.


Cramping and dehydration I think. I followed the same nutrition plan under similar conditions and things just didn't work out well this time around. I will need to analyze this further once I consider the next IM.


I love this race! Fan and volunteer support is phenomenal and the course/venue is great as well. This won't be my last IMWI that's for sure. While it wasn't the result I wanted, I will remember this one more. I regret allowing all the negativity to pervade the extremely long marathon, but also proud of myself for pushing through and continuing on when physically things were not going so hot. All I could think of were the friends and family I would disappoint if I threw in the towel. I especially knew that I was tougher than that and that I wouldn't forgive myself if I pulled the plug early. I truly believe you learn more about yourself going through hardship and adversity and will come out the other side better for it. When I am ready for IM again I will be back to redeem myself.