RACE DAY EVE
On October 10th, the
night before the race, my wife, Emily, and I were nestled up at a Best Western
Hotel in Clarksville, IN, right across the river from Louisville, KY. I had
just eaten my last carb-load meal around 6 p.m. at Fazoli’s (Italian fast
food), and around 7 p.m. was ready to hit the hay early to get up at 4:30 a.m.
in the morning to head over to the race to set-up my final gear. As I was
trying to sleep, outside of our room was about a dozen truck drivers having a
party. They were super loud and drinking up a storm. Because it was early, I
couldn’t call hotel management on them, so I pretty much just sat in bed
listening to them ramble on for 3 hours about all their truckin’ adventures…
When 10 p.m. hit, I couldn’t take it anymore, so I called the hotel front desk
and made a compliant. After about 10 minutes and a few heard cuss words, the
noise vanished! Ahhh… finally, silence! But even without the outside noise from
all the truckers, I still couldn’t sleep from the anxiety for what would be the
longest and most physical challenging day of my life. I lost about 4 hours of
sleep from what I was hoping for, but when we woke up at 4:30 a.m., I felt good
to go.
RACE MORNING
The swim at Ironman Louisville is a
rolling start, so after you set up your bike gear, you have to walk about a
mile to the swim start and stand in line with over 3,000 people (athletes and
family). The reason why people get in
line so early at this race is because the cut-off to be an official Ironman is
midnight, so the longer you wait in line the sooner your cut-off. If you’re
worried about making the mid-night cut-off, it’s really important to get in the
front of the line.
When
we arrived around 5:30 a.m. (the race doesn’t officially start till
7:30 a.m.). Many people had already set up their gear and had been
standing in
line. While setting up my gear, I felt I had plenty of time to get a
good spot, and wasn’t too worried. When it came time to fill up my water
bottles
I realized I forgot to bring my water jug! I spotted some big water
containers
that the race provided in transition, so I ran over and realized the
water containers were
almost out! By the hair of my chinny, chin, chin, I got the last drop of
water
and was able to fill all my bottles. I felt bad for the people in line
for
water standing behind me, but whatcha gonna do?
By
the time we started making the
mile walk to the swim start, I started feeling dizzy and very light
headed. I
started to panic, and was thinking to myself, “are you kidding me? I
never get
dizzy spells, and it’s Ironman, go-time! This can’t be happening!” I was
started to question if I could even go the 140.6 miles feeling
lightheaded and
dizzy… I told my wife that I’m really starting to get worried and asked
her if
she’d be pissed that we drove all this way out from Utah to Kentucky,
that I
wouldn’t be able to do it, especially after all the countless hours of
training in the past year leading up to this big day. I was touched when
she said with a sigh, “No… it
will be ok, and I’ll let you do another one if you have to.” Man… I love
that
woman! I’d be irate if I was in her shoes.
As we approached the swim start line, and kept walking to the
back, we
realized how freaking long this line was… it kept going and going and
going! It
never seemed to end. With the way I was feeling, I wasn’t wanting to be
in the
very back, and I noticed some people were cutting in line… (oh no!), so
being
a selfish idiot, I cut in line too, thinking no one would notice… until I
looked over and saw this woman with her arms crossed, staring me down! I
kind
of looked away like she wasn’t there, until she spoke out, “Hey! You
know that
this isn’t the end of the line, right? You still got a ways before you
get
there.” Me, not knowing what to say, “Oh… I was just trying to get in
line….”
Then the women said in an annoyed tone, “Yeah...everyone is ‘just trying
to get
in line.’” I felt like Ralphie from the "Christmas Story" waiting in
line for Santa, and super stupid as I lowered my head and got out of
line and
kept walking towards the back (don’t worry, I learned my lesson).
As we continued to approach the end
of the line, I was coming to the realization that I was going to be in the
back, and wouldn’t start till about 30 minutes later than the people in the front
(the line was literally about a mile long). I still felt extremely dizzy, so I
took in some food and a red bull to see if would help. After about 15 minutes
it seemed to get a little better, but I was still super worried, and kept
wondering if I was going to be able to do this. As dawn was approaching, I heard
the cannon go off from about a mile away, sounding the start of the 2.4 mile
swim.
As the line was slowly moving, I
handed my morning clothes off to Emily, and she helped me zip up my wetsuit.
This was going to happen, whether I was having dizzy spells or not! I didn’t
come this far and train this hard to drop out now… They were going to have to
pull me from the bottom of the river to stop me from going after my dream. As
the line kept moving, I had felt like I’d been here before from doing 4 previous half-Ironmans, but this time it was
different, (and double the distance)… no longer did I want to be considered a Half-Ironman, no longer did
I want to have the “could I, should I?” thought in the back of my mind. The
training was there, the preparation was there, the support was there, and I was
there. I thought to myself, “It’s time! Today I WILL BE AN IRONMAN!
THE SWIM - 2.4 miles
By
the time I got to the front of the line, it was past 8 a.m. and I knew
then that I had 16 hours to finish. With my training, I was thinking 15
hours would be worst case scenario, and 14 hours, best case scenario for
me. My goal before the race was just to finish, but would love anything
below 15 hours. When I reached the ramp to go down to the water, all
the spectators were cheering and giving us high fives. There was loud
music blasting through the speakers and the announcer's voice was heard
over the sound system getting us pumped up and telling us we all were
going to become an Ironman today. By the time I reached the water, there
were two docks to jump off from, and the back dock was shorter, so I
just went for the back dock.
When I jumped off the dock into the Ohio river, and started swimming, I felt great and knew that I would be fine from the dizzy spells that I was having (musts have been pre-race jitters). When I got past the Island during the swim, I noticed that the water got really brown and murky, and there was a sandbar with people standing up and walking in the water. I thought for a second that I should do the same, but was feeling really good and just kept swimming. I had this moment while I was swimming where I felt high on life as the rays from the sun touched down upon us. I then got this warm feeling, not from the sun, but from my mother who passed away from Alzheimer's disease back in 2009. I dedicated this Ironman to her, and did it in her memory. Most people will experience and panic and dread as they're swimming in an Ironman as multiple bodies swim around you, and sometimes over the top of you. For me, I never felt so much peace and love. It was truly an experience that I'll never forget. I knew from there on, my mother was going to by my angel for the race, and would be with me the rest of the way.
Half
way through the swim my left calf muscle started to twitch, which
usually isn't a good sign. Then all of a sudden I had this horrible
charlie horse, cramp from where the twitching had come. Usually I have
no problems with my legs cramping up during a swim, but for some reason,
it did then. I started to yell out from the pain and began to float
without moving in the water until it went away. After the muscle
loosened, I began to leverage my wetsuit, and swam the rest of the way
doing flutter kicks and swimming using mainly my arms. I thought to
myself that it was going to slow down my swim time, but at least it
would conserve my legs for the bike a little more. As I swam with this
new method, I started to think I could kick normal again, but right when
I started, the twitching would start up again. I didn't want to
experience another painful charlie-horse, so I swam that way for the
remainder of the swim. Another annoyance that I encountered during the
swim was another man swimming right next to me... every time my hand
would go up, his would too, and we'd hit each others hand as they came
out of the water. No matter how much separation I would try to get, he'd
be right there beside me. We probably hit each other a dozen times... I
was about to lose it, when finally we got some separation. At the end
of the swim we went under two bridges, so I kept sighting for the second
pillar to the left of each bridge, and finally the top of the K.F.C.
Yum Center where the Louisville Cardinal basketball team plays. As I
approached the out part of the swim, I got really excited and surprised,
when I saw that my swim time was 10 minutes faster than what I had
anticipated. My watch read, "1 hour, 20 mintues!" I was expecting an
hour, thirty minutes. I couldn't believe my time after only being able
to swim with mainly my arms for half the time. As I got out of the water
and stretched out my left calf muscle that had cramped because it was
super stiff and sore. I ran over to the wetsuit strippers, and I fell
down on my back as they striped off my wetsuit. I then jogged over to
the changing tent into T1.
SWIM - 1:20:36
When
I got to the men's changing tent, there were butt naked men everywhere
changing into their biking clothes. I found an open chair in the corner
and began striping myself. At that point, I didn't care about being
descent so I joined the rest of them and let it all hang out. It kind of
reminded me of my junior high, gym class days, when it was cool to be
naked with everyone...Ha.
For
some reason or another, It took me almost 17 minutes in Transition 1...
I don't know what my deal was, but obviously I didn't care too much
about time (learned my lesson for next time to not take forever in
transition).
THE BIKE - 112 miles
I
got to my bike and started to stretch out my calf again. It thought to
myself, "Ok... let's see if I can bike with my strained calf. As I began
biking, I felt great and no pain, but felt like my seat post was lose
and moving around. I got off my bike to make sure it wasn't lose, and it
wasn't, but as I began biking, It felt like it was moving around again.
I then realized it was just the silk, body lubricant I used between my
legs to prevent chaffing, and it was just super slippery...ha.
Even though this isn't recommended, I got a new bike fit about a month before the race, and I am so glad they did! I felt like I could fly on the bike! I was passing people left and right, especially on the hills. Before the race I was having problems with my Zipp 101 wheels, so I rented carbon Zipp 808 wheels from a company called Race Day Wheels. I am completely in love with those wheels! I raced with them in St. George 70.3 back in May and have been in love with them ever since. They are over $2,000 brand new, but I rented them for $150--totally worth it! When I got to mile 10 I was noticing I was averaging around a 19 mph pace, but felt that I should back off a little so I don't over do it and cook my legs for the marathon coming up after the bike. I knew that with a 112 mile bike ride, you need to keep it steady and comfortable, unlike a half Ironman race where you can go after it a little harder. But I knew the course had over 5,000 ft elevation gain on the bike portion, and there would be a lot of hill climbing in store.
When
I got to the 1694 road, I had remembered this out and back portion of
the race when I rode it with some Toledo Triathlon Team members from
Ohio back in July. I remembered it had some way steep hills where you
could get going over 40 mph. As I was reaching the end of the out and
back, racers coming back the other way were yelling out, "Wreck coming
up!" As I approached the top of the upcoming hill, I noticed there was
carnage all over the road. Looked like two racers had a head-on
collision and they were all bloodied up and wincing in pain. I felt
super bad for them, and knew If I wasn't careful and kept my eye on
other racers, that I could end up like them later on. It was a scary
scene, and helped me stay focus on being super cautious on the bike
course; I still had another 100 miles to go, and knew anything could
happen.
Later
on in the bike there were some spectators on the side of the road and
they had a cute fluffy white dog in their lap. As I rode by I yelled out
to the dog, "Who's a cute little puppy? Are you a cute little puppy?
Yes you are! Awww... your just so cute." I have no idea why I yelled
that out to them, but I got a good laugh out of the owner and it made me
laugh at myself. During the bike as well, I saw a racer with a bike
jersey that had a picture of a black dog and it said on the back, "Black
Dog." I spoke out to him as I passed and said, "Cool! I got a black dog
too!" He started to chuckle and said, "Well, lots of people have black
dogs... that's just the name of a bar that I go to and they sell bike
jerseys." It's just fun to have random conversations with people on the
bike--it takes your mind off the pain and how far you still have to go.
On
the first loop of the bike and around mile 40 is where you come up to
the town, La Grange. The side walks are chalked full of people and
spectators. There is this portion of downtown La Grange where you fly
down this hill and people are cheering like crazy and rattling their cow
bells. There hasn't been too many times in my life where I felt like a
superstar athlete, but that portion of the race, I did. It made me gain a
boost of energy and I was feeling great.
Every so often on the bike, I had to stop at aid stations and put more Carbo-Rocket drink mixture into my water bottles. I had the mixture stored away in the back pocket of my bike jersey in little zipper lock bags. So, I know that took a little time off my pace as well, but it was necessary.
On
the second loop I hit around mile 65 and that is where our special
needs bag was being held. I stopped and racked my bike, retrieved by
special needs bag, and took a breather while I enjoyed a delicious
peanut butter sandwich that I packed; I then washed it down with a
red-bull! I remember talking to fellow Ironman, Patrick Oborn (married
to my cousin), about enjoying the special needs bag and not to pass it
up and rush through it. During that break I also had to use the
restroom, so I sat in line for about 5 minutes waiting to take a leak. I
was self-conscious about how much time I was taking during this
half-way point of the bike, but honestly I didn't care because I needed
the time to regroup and fuel up. After I got out of the port-a-potty, I
went over to take my bike off the rack, and realized there where bikes
placed tight up against it, and it was a bear trying to get it off the
rack. After a couple minutes of struggling to remove it, I was off and
feeling rejuvenated.
I
heard other triathletes talking about mile 90 on the bike. They said
that once you reach mile 90, it's pretty much flat and all down hill
from there. As I reached mile 90 I noticed that there was a pretty
strong head wind coming right at us. So, right when you think it's going
to be easy, it isn't. You always have to expect the unexpected during
an Ironman. It did slow down my pace a little, and it wasn't like
anything you'd experience in Kona, but it was definitely a fight to the
end--there were no gimmies--and once I realized that, it got worse,
around mile 100, the leg cramps started. These cramps weren't in my
calf, they were in the inner thy. They were super painful and would
occur every 2-3 minutes. I thought to myself, okay, looks like I need
more salt in my system, and I would start to drink down more
electrolytes. It would help for a little bit, but they weren't going
away, and when it cramped, it wasn't like a side cramp from running, It
was like someone was squeezing your leg as hard as they could and not
letting go. I stopped at the final aid-station to eat some cashew nuts
that I had in my back pocket, and hoped it would help with the cramping.
As soon as I started to bike again, this lady was approaching the same
aid-station and yelling at me to move out of her way... ARE YOU SERIOUS,
LADY?? GO AROUND ME! (such bad biking etiquette). You don't yell at
someone pulling away from an aid-station to go faster and get out of the
way. I guess when you've biked over 100 miles with 2,500 athletes all
around you, your patience with people starts to be tried.
When
I finally made it back to Louisville, and realized I was under 7 hours
and hadn't wrecked, got a flat, or died, I was pretty happy! (Even
though the cramping in my thy was painful.) I handed off my bike to a
volunteer (which was super nice), and jogged to the changing tent like I
had a stick up my butt (you don't jog too well after biking 112 miles
and while wearing bike shoes.) I entered into the changing tent and
striping naked party began once again!
BIKE - 6:41:54
After changing into my run clothes, I had a cloth picture of my mom stored in my back pouch to carry with me, and would use that as I would other nutrition, but more on the spiritual side. Some people that have never done an endurance race, don't realize how much of this sport is spiritual. You are using your inner soul to conquer the flesh. During an Ironman, your body cries out for you to stop, but no matter how bad it wants you to stop, you have to have a sound mind and strong soul to push through it. That's why I was so blessed to have my mother with me, and carry her in my heart. Doing this race for her channeled more energy and support than I could ever ask for to conquer the flesh and finish the course in her honor.
THE RUN - 26.2 MILES
As
I began the first mile of the marathon, my back was feeling sore from
the bike and I was praying that the soreness would go away, when another
athlete came up to the side of me and said, "Now all we have is the
run!" I said, "Yeah, it's just a quick little marathon of 26.2 miles
left... no biggie!" Again, it was those little conversations that you
have with fellow triathletes that help you try and have fun among the
pain, and just try to enjoy the journey.
After mile 3 my back pain had gone away, and I was super happy! I would jog at a steady,easy pace and walk through every aid-station to drink a cup of water, and gator-aid. I'd also eat a shot-block every mile and take in salt from the salt tube I was carrying. I never missed a beat, I completely nailed my nutrition on the run. My stomach was never upset and didn't feel light headed or dizzy.There was a point on the run where this little girl was dressed up like a cheerleader and cheering with her pomp-pomp "You can make it, you can win, today you'll be an Ironman." From the time I passed her and for the next 5 miles, I had that cheer stuck in my head...ha, I guess it was a good thing because it motivated me (for some reason), and it kept my mind off the pain. Around mile 10, I could tell I need to take dump, but hated the fact that I had to stop and slow down my average pace per mile. But I could tell I had to really go and didn't want to have a "oops I crapped my pants" moment. So as soon as I sat down, my quad leg muscles cramped up like nobody's business! I was screaming in pain as I pooped, and I realized that it probably sounded funny to the people waiting in line cause they probably thought the screaming was from pooping and not from the cramps...ha! After I finished my business, I felt great again and knew I was about to the half way point of the marathon. As soon as I reached the half way point, I was in downtown Louisville again, and you could see the party at the finish line, and hear the cheers and loud music. I could hear off in the distance, "So and so... YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!" It was such a brain tease, because that was what you were begging for, the point where you could actually stop and be triumphant at the finish line, and hear and know that you are now an Ironman, and will be forever. But... I still had 13 more miles to run, and I had to take my mind off the finish line and focus on each mile at a time. I began setting goals in my head to remain focused, "Ok, just make it to mile 15... that's all you have to worry about; don't think about anything else, right now all that you need to do is make it to mile 15." As soon as I would make it to my goal, then I'd reset and make another small goal. I did this over and over, even to the 23 mile mark. I didn't think... ok, just make it to the finish line. I told myself I needed to make it to just make it to mile 25, then I could start thinking about the finish line. Along the way during the marathon, I saw people throwing up, wincing in pain, mumbling to themselves, and people attempting to run while being hunched over from their back giving out--yet they continued to fight and to endure. This was such a sobering moment for me. We as humans are amazing.
When we have a sound mind, strong heart, and a determined soul to succeed, there is nothing in this world that can stop us. I saw it that day over and over again during the run among my fellow competitors--it truly made me believe anything is possible. I realized we weren't racing against
ourselves in that moment, we were racing together against adversity and everything and everyone
that believed we couldn't do it. But more importantly, we were racing for the glory of an Ironman
finish line, and I was only a mile a way. By that time, I reached out to bump fist with a man that was running along the side of me and we congratulated each other. I knew at that moment that it was going to happen--I was going to be an Ironman!As I approached 4th street in downtown, Louisville, Kentucky, the energy was electric! It was so much more glorious and wonderful than I had remembered the first time I passed it on the half way point of the run--it had finally come! After 14 and a half hours of racing, I had made it! All the noise and sound was trapped in between all the tall buildings, and there was bright lights everywhere! As I was running down the chute to become an Ironman, I was so broken mentally and physically, I couldn't hold back the tears... I didn't just cry... I wept like a little child. And the love of my mother surrounded me as I pulled out her picture and held it high in the air as I crossed the line.
pool, pounding the pavement, and grinding in the sun; all the many sacrifices of time, money, and family and friend gatherings; all the sweat, blood, and tears; all of it comes out at once when you cross that line. It the most incredible and sobering feeling I've every experience; It was a glorious day, one I will never forget. I'd like to thank my wife, Emily, with being my biggest support. Without her, this day never would of happen. And to my mother, Joyce:
I did it, mom! For you, I AM AN IRONMAN!
TOTAL TIME - 14:32:41
