Ironman Louisville : Official Thread (Page 87)

Emily and I did the NYC Tri yesterday. If you are looking for a great swim PR this is the race to do it. That river sweeps you down with very little effort. The chop was very heavy and I felt for the less confident swimmers... but even doing doggy paddle you'd get to the swim exit in no time! 1500 in 19:38.... and I wasn't even pushing! I had a good head reset when I saw someone being pulled from the river as I was headed out on the bike. The congestion coming out of transition cost me at lest a couple minutes and I was annoyed.... until I saw that ... made me get my priorites straight. I also learned that central park is really hilly. I did not like that :-) Anyway it was a fun day and now it all about Kentucky. I really really need to get better at nutrition on the bike. I'm still coming off T2 under hydrated and fed. I suffer from low blood pressure as it is and I'm battling extreme dizziness in the run. I'll be practicing nutrition on the Grand Fondo next weekend! Good luck to everyone as we head into taper time.

Rafik - I did 90%+ of my running in Central Park. The 110th st hill + all the other rolling hills will get you in great shape! 

Good luck at the Gran Fondo. That was on my calender until I inured my hip last week. Taking it easy until KY. God help me...

When is everyone planning on doing their final 100 miler? I did one yesterday and had planned for that to be my last (was planning 70 next weekend, then 40 the weekend before with a couple of 25-30s thrown in the 2 weeks leading up to the race). But I see a lot of people tapering later and I am tempted to do the Gran Fondo here in Philly next weekend.

Any thoughts on the last long run would be appreciated as well.

Im looking at 90-100 this friday and 50 or so next weekend.  My knee has really dropped my running to a minimum so my plan now is to ensure I bank enough time on the bike to ensure I finish.  Finishing is my only goal at this point, everything else is a bonus!

Adam

I'm planning on Wednesday being my last 100 miler.  Was originally planning for today, but bike is in the shop.  Was suppose to pick it up yesterday, but they were closed for whatever reason.

My last long "walk" is today. Coming off of an injury so I'm planning on walking most of the marathon.  Going to do an 18 mile walk today, 7 mile run on Thursday, throw in a few smaller runs/walks over the next couple weeks, and then show time (or survival time). 

Swam in the Ohio River Saturday and rode the whole bike course afterwards with the IAMTRI group - simply awesome people. It was like you got almost an entire IM race for a measly $15 donation. Unreal.

Glad I made the 12-hour-each-way road trip to preview the course... comparing the bike course to IM Wisconsin, the hills are not as long and not as steep, but maybe a few more. Loving that the first and last ~10 miles are flat as a pancake, will give me a good chance to settle in and get ready for what's coming next. I thought the worst hill was coming out of the little "out and back" by far.. so much fun though. This may be my new favorite bike course

We'd planned on doing a long run yesterday morning before driving back home, but the severe weather stopped us in our tracks. It seemed to follow us to middle-of-nowhere Missouri, where we had to literally take shelter in a gas station off the Interstate while tornado sirens went off and around 50 people were huddled in the bathroom with kids, dogs, and everything inbetween. What an adventure! So I type this as I procrastinate my last long run. Just need to get out there already

#250 here, let's goooo!

Doing the middle distance (70+miles) at the Gran Fondo.  The full distance was a little too much climbing .... We plan on taking it easy as well.

I guess I just need a little reassurance.  I have been an occasional poster to this thread but mostly an outside admirer.  Last weekend, I had probably my best weekend of training.  I did an open water 2 mile swim, then a 85 mile bike in the heat and with the last 1 hour into 20 mph head wind.  I finished up with a great 17.5 mile run the next day-best long run of the year.  Last week, I had another great week of training.  Brutal hill workout on Tues and after my calves were a little shredded.  Friday, I had a 1 hour tempo run and at about 30 mins felt a little twinge in my right calf.  I shortened the stride and finished without much problem.  As night went on Friday, the pain got worse and worse.  I woke up Saturday and I was limping.  As doc who deals with this, I knew what the problem was-calf strain.   I was devastated mentally, worried that 6 mos of training down the tubes in last 2 weeks.   I figured running was out, but I tried to bike and that was no good either.  Thus, I had to bag both the long run and ride.  It was my peak long run of 20 and I was geared up for it.   Spent the rest of the weekend with ice, massage, stretches, strengthening the whole routine.  Felt better on Sunday-I think I could have pushed a bike if I had to.  Today it feels better.

Not the ideal way, I want to go into my first IM.  My schedule has me with my last 100 miler on Saturday.   My plan is to try try the bike on Tues night and see how it holds up.  I really need that 100 miler for confidence sake on Saturday.  My coach has told me that I should be fine-I have done most of the work and that shutting it down right now will not be as devasting as I think it is.  The key is to get healthy over the next 3 weeks.  My gut reaction is to get back out there and do the work.  It's hard to keep the horse in the barn for fear that all my work is going down the tubes with this rest.  I am not worried about the injury healing on time-I worry about losing the fitness.  I realize that I am going to have to deal with this thing during the race

Anyone with any previous experience of having to really shut it down for awhile so close to a race.

Thanks

(was answering Gobey007's q about swimmer's ear)  Wear earplugs for every swim.  I've had off and on issues with swimmer's ear for past six months.  Peroxide in the ear is a good one (dilute w/ water as otherwise it will dry out the ear canal).  I put alcohol in after every swim. However, if it doesnt go away in 2-3 days. See a doctor for prescription drops. It clears it up FAST.  

I definitely threw some alcohol AND peroxide in my ears yesterday after a 20 minute swim in the Hudson (NYC tri). Post-swim Q-tip wipe was nasty!

The above states it all.....YOU'RE READY!  If that doesn't give you the confidence another 100 mile ride certainly won't.  Take it easy and heal up.  Come race day your body will thank you for it.  IMHO

This will be my first IM as well.  I certainly feel burnt out - enough to skip final long run.  With 6 months of training behind us including multiple 100 mile rides, we are ready.  The following text was passed on to me by a BT'er who did IMWI last year,past on to him, etc...(a bit long, but very worth it to those going into taper mode)

Right now you are about to enter the taper. Perhaps you've been at this a few months,
perhaps you've been at this a few years. For some of you this is your first IM,
for others, a long-overdue welcome back to a race that few can match.

You've been following your schedule to the letter. You've been piling on the mileage,
piling up the laundry, and getting a set of tan lines that will take until next
year to erase. Long rides were followed by long runs, which both were preceded
by long swims, all of which were followed by recovery naps that were longer
than you slept for any given night during college.

You ran in the snow.

You rode in the rain.

You ran in the heat.

You ran in the cold.

You went out when others stayed home.

You rode the trainer when others pulled the covers over their heads.

You have survived the Darwinian progression that is an Ironman summer, and now the
hardest days are behind you. Like a climber in the Tour de France coming over
the summit of the penultimate climb on an alpine stage, you've already covered
so much ground...there's just one more climb to go. You shift up, you take a
drink, you zip up the jersey; the descent lies before you...and it will be a
fast one.

Time that used to be filled with never-ending work will now be filling with silent
muscles, taking their final, well-earned rest. While this taper is something
your body desperately needs, your mind cast off to the background for so very
long, will start to speak to you.

It won't be pretty.

It will bring up thoughts of doubt, pain, hunger, thirst, failure, and loss. It
will give you reasons why you aren't ready. It will try and make one last stand
to stop you, because your brain doesn't know what the body already does. Your
body knows the truth:

You are ready.

Your brain won't believe it. It will use the taper to convince you that this is
foolish - that there is too much that can go wrong.

You are ready.

Finishing an Ironman is never an accident. It's the result of dedication, focus, hard
work, and belief that all the long runs in January, long rides in April, and
long swims every damn weekend will be worth it. It comes from getting on the
bike, day in, day out. It comes from long, solo runs. From that first long run
where you wondered, "How will I ever be ready?" to the last long run
where you smiled to yourself with one mile to go...knowing that you'd found the
answer.

It is worth it. Now that you're at the taper, you know it will be worth it. The
workload becomes less. The body winds up and prepares, and you just need to
quiet your worried mind. Not easy, but you can do it.

You are ready.

You will walk into the water with 2000 other wide-open sets of eyes. You will look
upon the sea of humanity, and know that you belong. You'll feel the chill of
the water crawl into your wetsuit, and shiver like everyone else, but smile
because the day you have waited for so VERY long is finally here.

You will tear up in your goggles. Everyone does.

The helicopters will roar overhead.

The splashing will surround you.

You'll stop thinking about Ironman, because you're now racing one.

The swim will be long - it's long for everyone, but you'll make it. You'll watch as
the shoreline grows and grows, and soon you'll hear the end. You'll come up the
beach and head for the wetsuit strippers. Three people will get that sucker off
before you know what happening, then you’ll head for the bike.

The voices, the cowbells, and the curb-to-curb chalk giving you a hero's sendoff
can't wipe the smile off your face.

You'll settle down to your race. The crowds will spread out on the road. You'll soon
be on your bike, eating your food on your schedule, controlling your Ironman.

You'll start to feel that morning sun turn to afternoon sun. It's warmer now. Maybe
it's hot. Maybe you're not feeling so good now. You'll keep riding. You'll keep
drinking. You'll keep moving. After all, this is just a long training day with
valet parking and catering, right?

You'll put on your game face, fighting the urge to feel down as you ride for what
seems like hours. You reach special needs, fuel up, and head out.

By now it'll be hot. You'll be tired. Doubts will fight for your focus. Everyone
struggles here. You've been on that bike for a few hours, and stopping would be
nice, but you won't - not here. Not today.

You'll grind the false flats to the climb. You'll know you're almost there. You'll
fight for every inch of road. The crowd will come back to you here. Let their
energy push you. Let them see your eyes. Smile when they cheer for you - your
body will get just that little bit lighter.

Grind.

Fight.

Suffer.

Persevere.

You'll plunge down the road, swooping from corner to corner, chaining together the
turns, tucking on the straights, letting your legs recover for the run to come
- soon! You'll roll back - you'll see people running out. You'll think to
yourself, "Wasn't I just here?" The noise will grow. The chalk dust will hang in the air - you're back, with only 26.2 miles to go. You'll relax a little bit, knowing that even if you get a flat tire or
something breaks here, you can run the damn bike into T2.

You'll roll into transition. 100 volunteers will fight for your bike. You'll give it
up and not look back. You'll have your bag handed to you, and into the tent
you'll go. You'll change. You'll load up your pockets, and open the door to the
last long run of your Ironman summer - the one that counts.

You'll take that first step of a thousand...and you'll smile. You'll know that the
bike won't let you down now - the race is down to your own two feet. The same
crowd that cheered for you in the shadows of the morning will cheer for you in
the brilliant sunshine of a summer Sunday. High-five people on the way out.
Smile. Enjoy it. This is what you've worked for all year long.

That first mile will feel great. So will the second. By mile 3, you probably won't
feel so good.

That's okay. You knew it couldn't all be that easy. You'll settle down just like you
did on the bike, and get down to your pace. You'll see the leaders coming back
the other way. Some will look great - some won't. You might feel great, you
might not. No matter how you feel, don't panic - this is the part of the day
where whatever you're feeling, you can be sure it won't last.

You'll keep moving. You'll keep drinking. You'll keep eating. Maybe you'll be right on
plan - maybe you won't. If you're ahead of schedule, don't worry - believe. If
you're behind, don't panic - roll with it. Everyone comes up with a brilliant
race plan for Ironman, and then everyone has to deal with the reality that
planning for something like Ironman is like trying to land a man on the moon.
By remote control. Blindfolded.

How you react to the changes in your plan will dictate your day. Don't waste energy
worrying about things - just do what you have to when you have to, and keep
moving. Keep eating. Keep drinking. Just don't sit down - don't EVER sit down.

You'll make it to the halfway point. You'll load up on special needs. Some of what you
packed will look good, some won't. Eat what looks good, toss the rest. Keep
moving. Start looking for people you know. Cheer for people you don't. You're
headed in - they're not. They want to be where you are, just like you wanted to
be when you saw all those fast people headed into town. Share some energy -
you'll get it right back.

Run if you can.

Walk if you have to.

Just keep moving.

The miles will drag on. The brilliant sunshine will yawn. You'll be coming up to
those aid stations fully alive with people, music, and chicken soup. TAKE THE
SOUP. Keep moving.

You'll soon only have a few miles to go. You'll start to believe that you're going to
make it. You'll start to imagine how good it's going to feel when you get
there. Let those feelings drive you on. When your legs just don't want to move
anymore, think about what it's going to be like when someone catches you…and puts
a medal over your head... all you have to do is get there.

You'll start to hear the people in town. People you can't see in the twilight will
cheer for you. They'll call out your name. Smile and thank them. They were
there when you left on the bike, and when you came back, and when you left on
the run, and now when you've come back.

You'll enter town. You'll start to realize that the day is almost over. You'll be
exhausted, wiped out, barely able to run a 10-minute mile (if you're lucky),
but you'll ask yourself, "Where did the whole day go?" You'll be
standing on the edge of two feelings - the desire to finally stop, and the
desire to take these last moments and make them last as long as possible.

You'll hit mile 25. Your Ironman will have 1.2 miles - just 2KM left in it.

You'll run. You'll find your legs. You'll fly. You won't know how, but you will run.
The lights will grow brighter, brighter, and brighter. Soon you'll be able to
hear the music again. This time, it'll be for keeps.

Soon they'll see you. Soon, everyone will see you. You'll run towards the lights,
between the fences, and into the night sun made just for you.

They'll say your name.

You'll keep running.

Nothing will hurt.

The moment will be yours - for one moment, the entire world will be looking at you
and only you.

You'll break the tape at the finish line, 140.6 miles after starting your journey. The
flash will go off.

You'll stop. You'll finally stop. Your legs will wobble their last, and suddenly...be
capable of nothing more.

Someone will catch you.

You'll lean into them.

It will suddenly hit you.

YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!

You are ready.

You are ready.

Thanks for sharing, Brian.  Remember to bring your tape measure to the race.  I have a feeling my arms are skinnier.  Ha!

Nathan

Someone sent me that long post last year before my first Ironman and I can tell you, at least for me, every word turend out true. Especially this part:

You'll be standing on the edge of two feelings - the desire to finally stop, and the desire to take these last moments and make them last as long as possible.

Wow! It's obvious I've been gone all day. So much has gone on in here. Plenty to respond to, but I'll be selfish and tell you what I've been doing.

I completed my solo 70.3 today...I will be composing a race report in which I will attach the link at some point for those interested, but here are the basics.

1.2 mi Swim= 37:27 (ave. 1:46 p/100yd).

T1= 5:04

56 mi Bike= 2:39:15 (ave. 21 mph)

T2= 3:38

13.1 mi "Walk" = 3:08:25 (ave. 14:22 p/mi).

Total= 6:33:49

Overall Place= 1st...and last.

Age Group Place= 1st...and last.

Icing Achilles now. Peace.

Thanks Emily.  I did get some ear plugs and I thankfully was able to get my long swim in. Sorry to hear you have been battling this for a while.  I didn't have one sign of an issue until I started swimming and OUCH, that was really smart.  I may have picked it up after an OLY in a rather interesting river Post swim Q-tip good call.

I have a question about a situation that is freaking me out.  My bike is currently in the shop getting fixed.  Just found out today that the shop closed it's doors (possibly bankruptcy).  What do I do?  I'm planning on making telephone calls tomorrow, but I'm lost right now.  Any advice would be appreciated since Louisville is 20 days away.  I have a Schwinn I'll use for plan B, but would rather ride my Felt.

Skinny Arm Brian - Wonderful!  Wish I could take the text along with me ... hmm ... maybe I will ; -)

Emily - Ditto on ear plugs - I mostly use them so that the first two miles on the bike don't sound so muffled, like a howitzer round went off near my head, until the water drains.  For some reason, though, I always seem to lose one of them.  Oh, well.

Sam - Wow!  Inspirational, as always!

Skinny Arm.......

Thanks for passing along those words.....Couldn't be more fitting and inspiring

Jeff