Ironman Louisville

I had one goal for Ironman Louisville 2015. Take a year to try something completely different, learn to truly appreciate the journey to the start line, and train better and more consistently than I ever had. I accomplished that goal.

If you've kept tabs on my blog (thanks for the read!) you'll already know the amount of time and energy I put into preparation for IMLOU. Leading up to the race I wasn't overly nervous or anxious, because I felt that no matter what happened on race day I had done everything in my power to be as prepared as possible for the event.

But I did begin feeling the weight of what an Ironman really entails. Everyone says that it's an emotional journey - that you'll find yourself tearing up on the start line and throughout the race. And sure enough, race week brought a roller coaster of emotions. Even though I loved the training, I had committed a full year of my life to one single day. And everyone around me, particularly Amanda who supported me through the daily grind, was a part of that journey as well. It's a challenging, incredibly rewarding, stupidly expensive and insanely selfish journey.

I arrived in Louisville with Amanda and my mom late Thursday night to the news that the swim - which had been in question due to water quality - was officially a go for Sunday. I settled in, got my race kit and final workouts in on Friday, then spent the majority of my afternoon on Saturday figuring out how to fit all my nutrition on my bike and race belt (I trained with everything on course but didn't want to rely on grabbing gels and chews from the aid stations).

Before I knew it Sunday morning came with a 4:30AM wake-up call to get to transition for a final gear check and head to the swim start. I felt good. Really good.

The swim is a unique rolling time trial start which meant two things: 1. it's a very relaxed start and the race spreads out really nicely, and 2. With 3000+ people in the race, the line-up was over a mile long to get in the water. After debating for days if I was going to try to get there insanely early (ie. before 5am) to try to start up front, I chose the relaxed option, took my time getting myself and my gear ready, and was somewhere near the back of the line (probably 2000-2500 athletes ahead of me) with my BPT mates Nikki and Mike (and all of our lovely sherpas) together. At 7:30 we heard a distant cannon fire and the line started moving. This was really happening!!

Around 7:57 it was our turn to walk down the ramp to the start, and with one last high 5 we were off. Holy shit, I'm doing an Ironman! I took my time getting going, relaxed into that familiar stroke that I've worked so hard at. Smooth and efficient. Strong core. Sight often. Stay relaxed. There were swimmers in every direction, but it was never too congested. I was quickly moving through the field, and not a single swimmer came past me.

About 1200m in we rounded the turn and began the long straight away to transition. I knew it was going to feel like forever, and I was prepared for the mental challenge. I focused on the bridges in the distance that we would go under and just kept swimming. Slowly but surely they came closer, then under them, then I could make out the transition tents, and finally that last turn buoy. My hamstring cramped getting out of the water, but I relaxed, let it release, got to the wetsuit strippers, and off into T1. 58:47 swim in my first IM - my best swim of the year, maybe my best ever. I couldn't have asked for a better start to the day.

I heard some amazing cheers as I made my way to the mount line, and off I went for 180k on the bike. I felt better than I've ever felt getting on the bike - hips weren't tight, back wasn't tight, power came easily. We had driven the bike course the day before and I was ready to take on this crazy challenge of an Ironman bike.

The course is mostly flat to 20 miles where there is a challenging and fun out-and-back section, before two relentlessly hilly 50k loops. A rough time check at the turn-around to the leaders who started 27 minutes ahead of me - I was 27 minutes behind them. I was gradually building into my goal wattage of 220-225W for the first 100k, with the plan of purposely positive splitting slightly on the second half.

My experience in challenging 70.3's really paid off by maintaining a steady power output regardless of the terrain. I was amazed, but not overly surprised, watching athletes who were likely averaging 5-10km/h slower grind back past me on an uphill only to disappear at the top. This is an Ironman! You have to run a marathon this afternoon!! Similar to Rev3 Knoxville the course really rewarded working the downhills to maintain momentum going up the next one. It was a tough course, but I was feeling good.

About half way through the first loop the wind started to pick up, and the mental demons started coming. "You have to do this whole loop again, then ride another 30k back, then run a MARATHON!" It's such a challenge to stay focused on the kilometre you are in, and take it all as it comes. But I was still ticking off athletes, focusing on nutrition and pacing, and still felt good. I kept my mind occupied by thinking of the second time riding through La Grange where my supporters were hanging out :)

Lap 2 was pretty congested with many cyclists on their first time through. There were a few times I had to break my rhythm to avoid some of the craziness. I also had some goof balls intentionally jump right on my wheel as I passed. But I was mentally prepared for those challenges and did my best to keep any negative emotions out of my mind. My stomach was starting to scream at me when I took my nutrition, but my nutrition in training felt completely dialled and I knew I needed at least 80g of carbs per hour. So I forced my gels and chews down.

I was starting to get really sick of the hills, the wind, my aerobars. But my legs were still solid and I was slowly ticking off the miles. After what seemed like an eternity I was finally off the loop section. Just 30k left with a net downhills...but the barely noticeable crosswind we had going out became a stiff headwind coming back in. The mental demons came back, "this isn't even fun, it's just unnecessary!"

With about 20k to go a group of three athletes came by me in a legal pace line. It was just what I needed. I was able to ride just below my target wattage staying VERY safely legal 12-15 meters at the back. It was enough to keep my head in it and stay focused to the finish. After driving the course I was thinking 5:30 was a good bike split goal. Despite starting with well over 2000 athletes in front of me, I dismounted in 5:10 with less than 50 athletes ahead of me. Second in my age group, in the top 15 overall, and Amanda said I looked the best out of anyone who had come in. I took a few deep breaths in transition to gather myself mentally for what was ahead. But my legs felt good and I got rolling.

Of all three sports I was most confident in my run fitness. Two weeks before the race I ran 10 miles off a 4 hour ride at what was supposed to be IM pace and I ended up averaging 4:10/km. The week before that I cruised 36k at IM pace just above 4:30/km. I didn't want to set an unrealistic time goal for my first Ironman, but I was more fit than I've ever been. I was roughly aiming for a 3:30 on the conservative side, but I wasn't going to discount a 3:15-3:20 if things went well. My race time was 6:15 out of T2, I knew I had a LONG way to go but was well below even my best case scenario time estimates.

I allowed myself to settle into the first mile nice and easy to get my legs under me, and Amanda was perfectly positioned to give me a quick pep talk. First mile split was 7:55 with a quick pee stop.

Of course I was tired, but not as bad as I expected 6+ hours into an Ironman. I ticked off 7:25 per mile to the turnaround, but I was getting increasingly bad stomach cramps heading out to the turn around. But I got there. "Time to reset, finish Lap 1 and re-assess".

At the first aid station on the way back I started heaving when I tried a chew, then again when I tried Gatorade instead.

"No worries, ease off the pace a bit and try something again at the next aid station." It came right back up. My legs still felt good so I kept ticking off the miles, but I was starting to get concerned.

"Ok, coke and Gatorade only at the next aid station." Same result. When I was running I was running 7:30 miles, but I tacked on an extra 60-90 seconds throwing up after each aid station.

At mile 10 I knew I was going to be in trouble if I couldn't keep something down. I forced down a gel right before the aid station then took water and coke. Ten steps later I emptied everything in my stomach.

"Thank f**k, maybe I'll feel better now. Time to rally just like Natasha Badmann in Kona!" Back to 7:30 miles.

I got to the final aid station of Lap 1, took a chew, water and coke. I threw it all up. I came around the turn-around where I saw Amanda, my mom, and Sarah from BPT. They were so happy for me...

"You're killing it!!"

"You're third in your age group, keep ticking them off!"

"You're gonna be sub-10!"

I tried to muster a decent looking stride but I felt dangerously close to passing out. I was nearly 8 hours into the race and hadn't gotten any carbs or fluids down in the last 11k. I still had hope that things would turn around. My legs still felt ok. I thought best case, I get through these issues and hold something down and 9:45 is in my sights. Worst case, a 2:20 second lap would still get me under 10:30.

When I got to the first aid station on Lap 2 I knew I was in trouble. I was coming up on two hours of running and was hitting empty. I tried everything they were offering, nothing stayed down. When I got to Mile 16 I stopped and asked for help from the volunteers. The aid station captain was a doctor and was amazingly helpful. He had me sit down and try to relax, and told me he didn't want me to try standing up until I drank something and kept it down. Half an hour later I was still there.

I wanted to continue so badly that I didn't realize how serious it was getting. I still couldn't drink anything without vomiting, and despite the 27 degree air I wasn't sweating, and was shivering sitting in the sun. I was starting to mope, but quickly changed my mindset. I still had almost 8 hours to go 10 miles. With that stubborn thought I got up and walked to Mile 17. A nurse there asked if I was ok, I told her what was going on and she asked if she could call an ambulance for me. I started crying.

I knew my race was probably over, but I didn't want to quit. I took a few sips of chicken broth and forced myself to run. I wanted to give it one more shot to find my way to the finish. I passed Mile 18, ran through the aid station and kept going. Then at Mile 19 I thought of Amanda waiting for me at the finish line, and how stupid it would be to keep going and risk my health for a triathlon. I asked for medical...and my Ironman journey ended in an ambulance back to medical center.

The medical staff were absolutely incredible, I wanted to hug them all. They ran some precautionary tests, ruled out any heart/respiratory issues and confirmed what I already knew - I was simply ten hours into the race, and had not absorbed any fluids or carbohydrates for over three hours. Two hours, lots of complaining about needles, and two IV bags later I was starting to come around and was released. My Ironman badge of honour was a blood-stained elbow and electrode stickers on my chest.

I still have a lot of figuring out to do with this one. I felt so ripped off at first, that I had gone through all the training and 10 hours of suffering and missed out on the ONE thing that made it worth while...crossing the finish line. But that's a load of crap.

I've taken so much away from this past year, I think it will take me a while to figure out what it really means. The first thing of course is to try to determine the cause of such severe GI distress. I'm in good hands between Coach James' analysis of my race and data files, and the expertise of Coach Mark Linseman dissecting my minute-by-minute nutrition and hydration schedule. There are so many variables, but now that it's off-season I have plenty of time to sort it all out.

But there's one thing I know for sure. Sooner or later I'll test the Ironman again, and I'm gonna go for it :)