Ironman Arizona - TriathlonFull Ironman

Learn to swim in crowds. Improve drafting and technique.

Go faster throughout. No compression high top socks.

Push it harder the whole time. Take in more nutrition in back half.

Yankx, move quicker

Train to do longer runs after hard long bikes.

Poor nutrition on the back half of the ride. Lack of long course fitness.


Its very difficult to write a race report for your first IM because everything I did in the sport from drop 80lbs in 2003, learn to swim, go on my first group rides, and do my first bricks seems a part of it. Then there is the issue of thanking so many people that made it happen. How can you not recognize the amazing sacrifices that family and friends made to allow this day to happen. I appreciated most aspects of the training and everyone along the way. Ultimately, I tried to separate those big issues from the pre-race, race, and post-race in this report knowing full well, they were a huge part of the day. My report may be long, but it is what it is. I start with pre-race.

I was heavy going in and had a good 2 week taper going in. I was not sleeping well at home or at the hotel. There were so many details to remember (the event itself is an OCD nightmare) and the packing was a bear in of itself. Tribike transport was a big help. Bike and big bag of stuff off, all I had to do was fill in the gaps. And there were many. I over packed, taking nearly 2 of everything. Most importantly, taking an extra proprietary Litespeed seat post proved to be a magnificent decision as I cracked the current one trying to replace the bottle holders that were attached to it. The bike techs replaced my cracked one with the spare with <24 hours to spare before the race.

The athlete group swim on Friday morning was a bit unnerving. The water was less cold than the water I had been practicing in in my lake in Ga. However, my first taste of group swimming caused me to panic for the first 200 yards with murky water and washing machine effect. Shanks settled me down and I avoided the second group swim to keep anxiety about it manageable.

I took my bike to transition and later loaded it with 2x750 and 1x850 cal bottles leaving the aero-bottle for water and gatorade on course. The athlete pre-race dinner Friday night was awesome. I got all excited seeing and hearing the stories like the greatest loser, Rudy with no legs, and the 77 year old Ed.

It was a simple check in process and the expo was outside and small but solid. We found everything to be well organized. My motto soon became "avoid panicky athletes until race morning". We killed time at the coffee houses, restaurants like PF Changs and LaBocca, the hotel room, and had a healthy night-before dinner at Pita Jungle.

After that, the night before the race I woke up on the hour, and at about 1am I drank down 2 muscle milks, and ate a blueberry muffin and a banana. I sat on the crapper carbo unloading until it was nearly time to go to Transition at 5am. Julie came with me like a dedicated sherpa she was the whole time. We also met my sister Julie and brother in law Steve there, and they were a big help getting there early too. I paid money for them all to be given the VIP race-day treatment as a reward for their efforts, and they were most pleased with (and deserving of) that.

Around 6:30am the pros and some of the age groupers started entering the water. It wasn't too bad, although I heard that several folks had to DNF for hypothermia. I am not sure why that was, but I felt fine. I was doing my best to remain calm in the mass, in spite of the spectacle of the helicopter and spectators on the bridges and the ledge, along with Mike Reilly, making loads of noise. Trying to find space in the back proved useless. I soon got crowded in about 3/5 of the way back and closer to the buoy line. I just accepted it was going to be a fight no matter what.

Nothing prepares you, not Shanks or another two-time IMAZ'er alltom1 meeting you for lunch the week before, not any race report, for what happens in a mass start. The bomb goes off and then the water is churning, and people are fighting for their life and space. Arms and legs are flying and its total chaos. I felt like people were trying to push me down and drown me, so I swam with my head above water for 1200 yards or so, saying to myself that 4 years with Orlando Green, my trainer and a Strong Man, prepared me for pulling myself the whole way above water if need be. Somehow, I kept moving forward and didn't lose much of my position, though my arms and shoulders did get fatigued.

Finally, I got my face in the water and was able to get some proper swimming going. But, soon enough, there was a pile up at the turn buoy. Traffic was coming to a standstill and I lost my momentum, soon cursing "Fuck is this all about?!?" Ultimately, traffic turned left and we headed toward the second turn buoy, where traffic considerably lightened. I am not sure why, but I now had space. I swam properly the whole way back until the final left turn buoy where traffic piled up again. Right after that, I sprinted the last 150 yards or so to the exit steps. I felt like a major hurdle had been completed and I was going to be an Ironman today.

Climbing the steps, I felt a big rash on my neck, but heard my sherpas screaming my name so I forgot about the pain and hurried along to the wetsuit strippers. I sat down on the ground and got stripped, making sure they didn't rip off my garmin watch while they were at it. They handed me my wetsuit and goggles/cap and I was off for a 150 yard dash to get my T1 bag of stuff. Then, a short shot to the changing tent. I now had my bearings but nowhere to change. It was packed out completely.

I left the tent and plopped myself down in front of the sun lotion volunteers, and got naked, quickly changing my tri-shorts to my bike shorts for the comfort during the 112 mile ride. No modesty today I thought. I also realized I made a mistake when I tried to pull my high top compression socks over damp legs. That took too long and I won't do that again, even though that's how I train. I put my bike gear on and got slathered with sun lotion, but then yelped when it hit my wetsuit-created neck rash. Sadly, I had used plenty of Glide but it didn't prevent the rash.

Running for my bike, they got a volunteer to grab it for me and hand to me and I ran for the Run Out sign. BOOM, another traffic jam found me at the mounting line. I couldn't run to the line and when I got there, there was no room to mount due to the traffic. So I ran my bike an extra 25 yards to mount, all the while hollering at other athletes to keep moving.

Once on the bike, I tried to recall the plan to take the 1st 3rd of the bike easy and get nutrition in me. However, I also felt frustrated with the delays, so I pushed the pace a bit. In contrast, I did not give much chase and let others go if they were "young dumb and full of cum" as Steve would say. Moreover, I didn't know the course, as there had not been time to ride it or drive it beforehand, so I had to keep the watts down for a bit.

As we rode along, I started noticing that the back half of the first loop (the course is 3x37 miles) was a long gradual climb into a headwind, and I had been in the big ring, when it may have been more desirable to be in the small ring. "Oh well" I thought, and I soon hit the downhill portion, and let it rip with the tailwind pushing me. Pacing went from 18 to 20+ mph on average now. I was starting to get aggressive and away from my plan, but I needed to get some aggression out. Nutrition and hydration were going well, and my body felt great from the taper.

I finally hit the first turnaround, and hadn't seen my sherpas on the course, so I was kind of deflated. I figured they were out going for a run or something. It turns out they missed me by minutes. This was an unremarkable second loop except for noticing more race marshals and penalties being given than any race I have ever done. Several were in the penalty boxes. I also had Jordan Rapp, the winner on the day, pass me, which was kind of neat.

I settled in until the second turnaround when I slowed and saw my sherpas. They jumped for joy and screamed at me, and I did my best to show them I was feeling strong raising my fist in the air and getting up in the saddle and hammering for a bit. Seeing them propelled me to a massive energy burst to start out the third loop. I wondered why I was not hurting in my saddle sores or anywhere else 75 miles in.

Hammering away on the third loop, I soon crested the long hill on Beeline, and as I was closing in on the turnaround I saw a female triathlete I had been corresponding with on BT for some time. Riorio, in real life a helluva athlete named Sally, raced by the opposite way with about a mile lead on me. I hollered her name, but we both were moving quickly and she doesn't even know me other than online. So she didn't acknowledge me, but I said to myself that I had to catch my pen pal. I gave chase to no avail as she proved to be very strong, but my pace picked up significantly. This was great for my average mph and for my spirit as I was passing loads of athletes but bad for nutrition. Where I had been attending to it dilligently, this hammer fest took me away from anything other than water on course (and I only ended up consuming 1 of the 3 bottles of nutrition that I had on board-I did have 8oo cals of gel and 300 cals of on course gatorade along with my 850 bottle of carbo-pro/gatorade endurance 1950 for 5.5 hours didn't sound that bad actually). I also began to feel my cardiovascular system get taxed even though I still felt great. I knew I was going to be an Ironman now and I had a chance at the 11s, which was my high end unstated goal.

Its important for me to note that I did not stop for special needs or for a port-a-loo the entire bike. Even drinking what I thought was loads of water, I was not sweating in the desert which was weird (but I probably was, it was just evaporating quickly). The sun was out and it was in the 70's now. I couldn't wait to change my aero-helmet for my fluorescent running hat. My only other observation of note was a period of emotion about what I was accomplishing took over me as I rolled towards T2. I started to cry, but no sooner did I start then some athlete came up on me to pass. I thought to myself, "can't a guy get a friggin moment?" and shut up, soon blowing by him for his transgression.

Approaching T2, I was much quicker this time, but my feet hurt from being in a neutral position for so long (I am a pronator so I think that was the issue). It took a minute to get my feet feeling better, but more sun lotion on me and my neck, hollered in pain and headed out feeling ready to run a controlled 16-18 miles before unleashing the beast for the final stretch.

Gladly, my sherpas were right at the start of the run, and they congratulated me for a strong bike and for looking good. I reassured them that everything was under control, but I needed to urinate. I soon found a port-a-loo, frustratedly queued to get in and burned a minute or two unloading my bladder. Off I went and held a good pace for 10+ miles, but I mentioned to my sherpas at mile 9 that I was starting to feel a bit tired. I switched from water to coke on course. Around that time I got passed by TJ Tollakson, who came in second overall. I liked being side my side with the pros but I didn't like the way my ribs were feeling all sore and crampy. Of course my legs and feet hurt, but my arms and shoulders felt beat down too from the swim start. I still carried on-I had to keep moving to achieve my goal.

At mile 11, I knew there was some trouble about to occur. The words "wheels are coming off" popped into my head. My run was slowing to a shuffle, and by mile 14 it was an all out walk, punctuated by shuffles.

As I walked the mid-teen miles and got passed overhearing Mike Reilly calling people Ironman in the background, I became demoralized. You don't know who is on which loop so less athletic folks were overtaking me and I assumed the worse. I cursed myself for doing this event, for putting my family through hell, for being so brazen to do this without ample time for build up. I came up with all the excuses I could use and forecasted a long miserable ending to my IM. The blame in my view mostly resided with me for not taking in more nutrition and for hammering on the bike.

About mile 18 I came up on my sherpas, and they said it was ok to walk if I had to but to take in as much broth as I could. I was literally caked with salt on my tri-shirt and face. I shuffled and ran whenever I could. At mile 20 of the run, my sister screamed the theme of the race build up "unleash the beast", and I shook my head and hand negatively and carried on with my own personal hell/suffer-fest. But then something weird happened; I started feeling better.

I started back at my normal pace, grabbing broth wherever possible. I was re-passing many of those folks who got me earlier. I got nearer the end and picked up steam. My last 2.2 miles were probably sub 8 minute pace. At the end, folks were screaming my name as I separated from all other finishers near the final turn to the finisher chute to get a full shot of Mike Reilly's announcement. I saw the thick crowds and my sherpas and started high stepping the final 200 yards as they yelled. I high stepped the whole chute. Mike called my name and Athens, Ga and I was now an Ironman as I threw my fists in the air and yelled out deeply "Yeah!".

My goal to finish without IV bags had been achieved, but I had lost track of time. Where I thought I was mid 12s finisher, the clock showed 11:14! I couldn't believe it. My bro-in law was in tears, my sister smiled from one ear to the other, and my darling wife kissed and hugged me. They were so proud, and I was so shocked. I wasn't going to have to explain myself under-performing my training.

Off we went to the VIP tent for food and drink and to re-cap. It was all so amazing. But now my body was revolting a bit and I shivered uncontrollably from drinking cold lemonade. I piled some dry clothes on, the girls collected my bike and Tbags, and off we went for me to get a hot shower and put on some compression clothes. Then to Hooters for hot wings and shrimp and frozen margaritas. I made them all promise to never let me do it again. Weirdly, I was already talking about my next IM and what I would do differently the next morning. I was sore but not excessively.

Ultimately, barring the mass swim start and the dark middle patch of the run, I would say that this is almost the perfect IM to start with, given the flat course, the multiple spectator sites, the time of the year, and the climate. Everything is walkable and there are plenty of ways for a family to entertain themselves.

I came a very long way in a relatively short amount of time as a triathlete. I had tons of support and achieved most if not all of my short and long term goals this year and a half. I felt very selfish along the way and embarrassed I loved it so much. I need to learn to balance things better training for IMFL 2010 and to trust my coaching more. I will post my next year goals and what I need to improve soon. For now, I will say that I am truly content.