Coming out of Ironman UK, I decided to concentrate on my running. I suppose I decided that I wanted to be a runner to some extent. That lead me to the track at Franklin Field where I started doing sprint sessions. Little did I know I would meet my arch rival (and friend) Renato. Little did I know, I would meet my coach there. A month or two later, my old Japan colleague Chris would convince me that I should run a marathon in Death Valley, California. Looking back on it now, everything just fell into place.

I already coached myself to running up to 21 miles when I signed on with my coach who is from EAST Michigan (not Michigan as I had written previously). But once I signed on the dotted line, I let him take over. Some of the changes he made were instead of me running 3 days with high mileage, I ran 4-5 days dispersed out. I guess this improves durability. It got to the point where I was running over 40 miles a week. No longer did I have to figure out my training plan for the following week; it came to my inbox every day.

I’ve never been to California, or Vegas for that matter (the airport I flew into).  It was three years ago when I last saw Chris but it was good to see him again. Chris brought along a friend by the name of Ali. Ali is an amazing cyclist/lawyer/soon to be Ironman Canada finisher based in Seattle.

Race Day

Before we arrived to Furnace Creek Ranch, we were notified that we were running the alternate course (mentioned in earlier post) due to the rainfall in the previous weeks. That meant instead of running up to 5000+ feet, we were going to do an out and back on pretty much a flat trail.

As we boarded the buses that would take us to the race course, it was cold and windy. People were putting on plastic trash bags to dampen the wind effect and I even put on my fleece. Any clothes we decided to shed we could drop them off at the aid stations which were located every 3 miles. After a power gel and some water, I stretched and prepared for my first stand-alone marathon.

Mile 1-6

Like any race, the first few miles always feel great. Now, going into this, I guess I should have had a game plan. I sort of had a game plan, but not really. I knew I wanted to go under 4 hours but how I was going to do that…I had no idea. You have to understand, I began my triathlon/running career just a few years back with the Miyako-Jima Strongman. At that time, I ran my first 10k in 1 hour 20 minutes. At that time, Chris was a seasoned athlete. I didn’t know how much I’d improved my run compared to Chris, but my goal was to keep him in my sight for as long as I could. From the start, I was able to keep him within 50 yards of me. It’s wasn’t difficult to spot his wirey 6 ft 8′ inch frame. I couldn’t tell though…was he taking it easy or running in a concentrated effort? All I know is that I was running 8:30-:845 miles and feeling good. But could I hold it?

This situation was all new to me. I felt I was holding back, but just not sure if I was holding back enough. I passed the first aid station without getting anything and just used my water bottle of Enervitene strapped around my waist. When I came to Mile 6, I stopped to ditch my fleece and ran with arm warmers as it was still pretty chilly. The only bad thing about stopping and taking off my fleece off was that I lost about 30 seconds which put Chris almost out of sight.The Death Valley Marathon also had a 30k option. I was surprised to see Ali jump ahead of both of us, but considering she was running the 30k, it made sense.

Mile 7-13.1

I’m trucking along pretty well, feeling good. I’m trying not to get too excited because I know this is going to be a long day. That’s the problem with long distance racing: “almost there” is so subjective. I’ve caught myself saying that a few times: I’m almost at the half way point, or I’m almost almost at the finish; this has gotten me into trouble a few times.  Mile 9 is the 30k turn around and head back (30k=18 miles). I was  expecting to see Ali running towards me around mile 7 or 8 since that is what she signed up for, however after awhile I wondering,  “Did she decide to just do the marathon”? As participant’s true pace started to show, one of the more interesting things I saw were people carrying backpacks, and carrying multiple Powerbars in a fuelbelt-like contraption! Dude, its’ a marathon, not Survivor. I actually thought of asking that fellow if I can take one of those off him.

Death Valley is what you expect it to be: pretty bleak. The trail is a mix of rocks and gravel which is hard to attain traction at times; I know I almost tripped a few times. Coming into the turnaround, the total elapsed time was 1 hour 53 minutes. Right before I got there, I saw Chris running towards me and he looked fresh, talking with some fellow runners, looking happy. Bastard.  I also saw Ali coming the opposite way a little further back meaning Chris had already passed here. Yep, she decided to do the marathon. She however, wasn’t talking with anyone.

Mile 13.1 – 21

Things got a little interesting at the half way point (as they always do). Ali looked steady, and as I started to catch up to her, I thought about patting her on the butt. We had joked before the race that if Chris or I passed her, we would pat her on the butt and make a joke. However, I didn’t know her that well and the thought of it just made me uncomfortable. After the aid station at mile 15  and passing Ali, I looked at my Garmin and noticed while I was running a 8:36 mile; my heart-rate was at a 165. I felt 165 was way too high. To not risk blowing up at mile 20, I decided to bring my pace down considerably. I’ve been asked, “Well, how did you feel at the moment?”  I felt good, but I wasn’t confident looking at my heart rate I could hold that for much longer.

Back when I was in college, I was on the crew team. My coach always talked about gaining strength from each other while doing erg pieces. He use to say when you are in perfect sync, things become easier, and there is a certain type of “thing” that goes on where you gather strength from one another. Well, I don’t know if that happened, but around mile 17, I started running with a gentleman in his 40’s. I’ll call him Jim. Jim an I ran together in sync for about 6 miles at a about a 9:20ish pace. We didn’t say a word to each other the entire time. It was quiet, we were hurting, but we just stayed in stride.

Mile 21-24

Jim and I were still together. Foot striking the dirt and gravel at the same time. I can hear him breathe, and he I. He would run ahead a little, keeping the pace true, and I’d catch up, and I’d do the same in return. We were two men on a mission. At mile 22-23, you can see the finish line in the distance as you are on top of a small peak before you go downhill and then uphill to the finish.  A little before the last aid station at mile 24, a women passed us and looked quite strong, but had to use to port-a-potty which was located at the same place as the aid station. As Jim and I arrived to the last aid station, the woman popped out of the port-a-potty and resumed running.  Jim and I, getting his last feed at the aid station looked at me and said,

“Go get her, no reason, to hold back for me.”

I was  hurting, but I felt I had an extra spurt left in the tank. I really thought I could negative split the rest of the last two miles and finish under four hours, but it would be close.

I gave Jim a nod and I went after her. It just so happened at this point the course started to go back uphill. My watch alarmed when I hit the 25 mile mark (as it does for every mile) and I started to walk. 173 my heart rate read. Looking at my watch, I knew it’d be really close to breaking 4 hours. I guess looking back on it I probably should have ran each mile a little faster. I stayed with her running from about a 9:20 mile with Jim, to running a 8 min mile. After 3/4th of a mile I fell apart. Trying to stay with the port-a-potty woman was equivalent to me running and all out sprint. I started to run again but then I just stopped. I crashed and burned. My hip-flexors were tight, my right shin was hurting, and the top of my left quad was burning.  With my hands on my knees, I looked up from the ground, looked at my watch (3:57), and started to walk.  The finish was in reasonable distance (yet still up hill) and I could start to  hear the people cheering at the finish line over the seering wind.

After crossing the finish line, I looked at my watch, it said 3:59:30. I was pretty happy with that, but I knew it wasn’t the real time. One thing I forgot to do before the race was to turn off the “auto stop/start” feature on my Garmin 305. This is a great feature when you are running in the city, and you have to stop at red lights and such. It lets you accurately judge your distance and time. But the clock doesn’t stop in a race. I can only guesstimate, but I’m assuming the watch stopped when I took of my fleece around mile 6 to give to the aid station volunteer, and when I stopped at aid stations. Overall, my time was 4:01:36. 5th in my age group. You gotta love small scale marathons.

Post race and Vegas

I got cold pretty quickly. I didn’t have the strength to put my running tights on but I did find my fleece. I brought my Rx4 recovery drink power and drank it rather quickly. I grabbed some bananas and got on the bus.

Later that night we had the awards ceremony. Chris finished at 3 hours 40 min (bastard!) and Ali came in at 4:15: Not too shabby for not hardly training for it. She was listed in the 30k time as 4:15, but had she registered for the marathon, she would have won her age group! I’m sure she’ll kick major booty in Ironman Canada in August.  I ended up having (lots of) beers with some folks from California. These were some serious runners and triathletes. I think we stayed in Furnace Creek Bar from about 7pm till 3! There’s no better recovery food than pub fare!

This was my first time in Vegas. Not sure what I expected but it’s a pretty cool city. Since the old saying goes “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas” I’ll leave it as so. But, I will say is that I saw Phantom of the Opera at the Venetian (a must see!!), and flew out down only $40 bucks!

Post Race Thumbs Up!

The time change has been difficult. Getting out of work at 5pm and running when it’s pitch black is kinda demoralizing. Perhaps the darkness is the reason I have been a little down lately too? Maybe it’s the combination of 25% school, 20% personal life, 30% work, and 15% weather. My motivation has been to put it at best: pathetic. I feel all these things draining my energy to the point where I stay up late to work out in the morning and too tired to workout in the evenings. It’s a vicious circle. Trying to break it.The purchase of the Mac helped and having my first Ipod was great, but I’ve been looking at my bike attached to the trainer every morning, and just say, “nope, not today”. However, I have learned that my bike attached to the trainer is useful as mock clothes dryer such as my wet towel after I take a shower.

November 22nd is the Philadelphia Marathon. I”m not running, but I will be volunteering at a water station all day. I think it’s important to volunteer in athletic events. It’s more of a “pay it forward” or “karma” kind of deal. Maybe that’s a little silly but volunteering at the Philly Triathlon last year really helped my race performance after seeing so many people make the same mistakes over and over again.  The weekend before the Philly Marathon, there is a last warm up race which is a good taper run in a competitive environment.

The only running I’ve been doing is on Wednesdays where I go to the track and do speed intervals with a local triathlon club. Before I went into the doldrums, I was running very often, sometimes twice a day, averaging 40 miles a week. Since I’ve been in this state, I haven’t ran, biked, swam, and no lifting. No nothing. So, I signed up for the race in hopes it would get my ass in gear…provide that spark. Sometimes we just need a push to get moving (unless you are my car). I had been averaging 6:50 minute 800 meter repetitions on Wednesdays and I really hoped that this depression I was in could be used as a taper for this race. My goal was to run it around a 7:45 minute mile and hope that it would feel easy.

Yep, that's me.

Now, unlike my other posts where I try to build up the race and tell you my time at the end, I’ll go ahead and mention now I finished the course in 1:08.21 and I finished 96th out of 260. However, I’m upset because during my race I was pacing myself based on my Polar 625x foot-pod that was telling me I was running 7:30-7:45 minute miles. The time I finished was about a 8.1 minute mile. My watch told me I ran a total of 9 miles, not 8.4…that’s not even close! After the race, I retired my Heart Rate Monitor.  Therefore, I’m now in the market for a new brand; I’ll probably go with a Garmin.

Overall the run felt great besides the last 200 meters when I tried to pick it up at the end (I absolutely have finishing kick) but the overall disappointment is that my training distances and intensity have been off.

I mentioned my new mac. I thought I’d play with the new imovie application… Yes, I took a camera with me to the race and recorded most of it. I thought it’d be fun. So instead of me going through and talking about the race course, which was rather uneventful…I figured it’d be better to watch.  Comments are always appreciated.

Ken

Ironman UK

My fantasy of my first Ironman included scenes of a clear crystal morning, a nice sunrise with the sun beating upon the water as I enter to begin the swim portion. Very majestic like. My actual first Ironman experience was nothing of that sort. If I had two choose two words to sum up the conditions, it would be mud and cold.

My flight 7 hour from Philadelphia was rather smooth. I was worried about the $100 bike fee to bring it aboard the plane, but apparently, this only applies to domestic flights. On international flights, bikes go on free. That was great news. Could it possible be an omen of things to come?

I arrive at Heathrow and have about a 5 hour layover with my connection with BMI airlines. I change $100 and get only 51 pounds back. I order a hamburger and fries, er chips for 10 pounds to hold me over till I get to Manchester. 10 pounds? That’s a 20 dollar burger! And it wasn’t even that good.

The BMI flight leaves on time and I arrive at Manchester airport where Berit, my former Japan colleague/all around bad ass German chick/super linguist and Ken’s official Ironman UK administrative assistant/film crew/chauffeur was waiting for me. When we walked out of the airport, it was cold, windy, grey, and rainy. This isn’t how I pictured it. After checking into the hotel, we planned the next day’s schedule which consisted of bike check-in, practice swim, the official race meeting, and the official pasta party.

I made it!!

The morning before the race was cold and damp. As I previously stated, my idea of Ironman all had the sun involved. With that in mind, I didn’t bring any warm clothes at all. The first thing I think what surprised everyone when they arrived to the bike check-in was the mud. It was everywhere. Apparently, Bolton and most of Europe had gone through a pretty wet summer this year. There were a lot of problems I had with the Ironman UK organizers, but I doubt they could have expected this. The rain was so bad people were getting stuck in the car park which was in a grass field. SO bad, they had to get tractors to pull people out of the mud.  Check out the mud situation directly below

The pasta party was really nice. I met a really nice woman by the name of Kate. She is a 4-time Ironman UK finisher and has dreams of her own of getting to Kona.

I’ll go ahead and skip to the race. The rest of the day became logistical nightmare as the mud slowed everyone down. The organizers decided that people should show up at the Reebok stadium and then get buses to the race course instead of driving to the muddy car park. This made it very difficult for friends and family to see the swim start.

Race Morning

3:00am comes early. It comes especially early when you know you have such a long day ahead of you. It’s 30 minute or so drive from Bolton (we were staying right outside Manchester) to the Reebok Stadium. Since Transition opened at 4:15, I wanted to get there as early as I could to set up. The transition area was muddy as hell. I was planning on keeping my shoes locked into the pedals, but did I really want to get my socks muddy on my way to the bike start? I decided that walking through the mud with the cycling shoes on wasn’t that big of a deal, and besides, my race number being 88 meant I was right by the bike exit; so I wouldn’t haven’t to trot that far anyway.

SWIM (2.4 miles)

After stretching I put on my wet suit, put my post race gear in my bag and proceed down to the race start with the other 1400. The time is about 5:30. We waited on this concrete path for about 10 minutes and there wasn’t much talking going on. As I stood there in silence, Berit was there taking photos of me. I tried to make a smile but I was way in another world at this moment: part excitement; part fear; add a little bit of self doubt and you have your typical first time Ironman triathlete. It just begs the question, am I ready? I think I was. As I entered the water, I seated my self in the middle rear. Not in the middle, not in the rear, just in between. Swim goal was 1 hour 20 but I could live with a 1 hour 30.

Am I ready?

Here is where the first confusion and poor planning I felt occurred during Ironman UK took place. When you look at this video below at the swim start, you see something rather odd. Not everyone is starting swimming at the same time. Why? Because most people didn’t hear the swim start. Only the people in the front. As I sat in the water people next to me are asking each other:

“Why are they swimming?”

“I don’t know, did you hear the start command?”

“No, did you?”

“No, but I guess we better start swimming!”

And we did. For it being a reservoir, I felt there was a strong current; or perhaps there was a slight headwind. Regardless, I knew we were swimming into the wind/current at the beginning. When this happens, strong swimmers really move out ahead while the average people stick together. At the first turn around, we would be swimming with the current/tailwind. This meant I knew it would be difficult good grab of water so I had to make sure my elbows were to get all of the tail wind I could.

I was hitting feet and people were hitting mine, and I got shoved out of people’s way. Because it was dawn, with the sun barely out, it was a little hard to sight and see the turn-around. I just followed the arm ahead of me and rarely sighted. On the first turn around, as I expected, the field opened up a bit and I felt I was swimming alone for awhile.

The day before the race, I did a practice swim to gage the water temperature. Right away, I knew I would get a cramp on race day. Perhaps it’s because I rarely kick, or perhaps I don’t let my foot flex, but on my 2^nd loop, the cramp in my calf came. Since I already has experience with this at JerseyMan, I knew how to handle it: just try to move your feet to an 90 degree and angle a few times and it’ll take care of itself.

My goal for the swim was 1:20. BUT, there is huge consensus on the Ironman UK chat boards after the race that the swim was measured incorrectly. It was actually longer. The swim was measured from the start line to start line, not where we exited the water. So there was about 200 meters extra. If that is correct, that’s another 8-10 minutes. Anyone who did the race, I would love to get some comments on this issue.

Swim Time: 1 hour, 36 minutes

Transition 1

It seemed like an eternity to get to the changing area. As I came out of the swim, a guy next to me said, “Hey Mate, maybe they’ll add this part to the marathon”. Seemed fair to me. I’ve been talking about my pain in the ass wetsuit for months now and this race was no different. I could not get my wetsuit off my ankles. I was getting really upset while I saw people come in after me and leave before me. Another athlete saw how frustrated I was getting and assisted me in pulling it off. I thanked him, ran through the mud, put on my socks and shoes, fastened my helmet and I was off.

Below is a video I found on youtube. There are two things I want you to take from this video. First, around 1:15 the person films the swim start. You can see here what I just wrote about: people were NOT ready or did not hear the swim start. Very disorganized. Second, at minutes 3:35, the person who filmed this actually filmed ME on the bike, although for just a quick second. I thought that was pretty wild when I first saw it.

Bike (112 Miles)

I thought I had packed everything when I came to England. I double and triple checked everything. I did forget one thing: my magnet for my speed meter. Since I rented wheels from Echappe, I forgot to switch it over so that meant I had no speed odometer for the race.

About 5 minutes into the bike course, you climb “the hill” the organizers has been said is the staple of the course. I had a small stomach ache from probably swallowing too much water but right into it you start climbing. It’s about 2.5 miles of pure climbing and it’s pretty unforgiving. What’s worse is the wind. If you look at this video here, it’s a bike course preview. You can see from the top how far you have to go up. You can tell from the video and its poor audio how windy is it.

After the climb, you pretty much fly downhill for about 10 minutes at speeds up to 60 mph. I remember tear drops coming out of my eyes with even sun glasses on.

Getting low and aero

To be honest, the rest of the course was rather boring. Besides the climbing section, there weren’t many locals or fans. The bike course could be summed up like this: Tough climb, go downhill really fast, lots of headwind, repeat x3. I’ve mentioned some of the poor organization of this race. The next point where I was very dissatisfied was on the third bike loop. At the top of “the hill”, there is an aid station which gives fluids, power bars, and gels. On the third loop when I arrived, they RAN OUT OF FLUIDS.  I had half bottle of Enervit left over so I wasn’t in dire need, but I saw triathletes stopping on the side of the road searching through empty bottles in hopes for finding one with some Gatorade. I thought this was a pretty sad display.

Just to put in perspective on how difficult this hill was,  on my last go around, as I got towards the end of the hardest section, I saw a guy really struggling to get up to the top. It was so difficult for him that he fell off his bike because he couldn’t enough propulsion from his legs to go forward!! A few spectators who were there rushed to him to help him on his feet. As I passed him, I looked back and saw that he was pushing his bike up the hill. Hey, I thought about it, so I don’t blame him.

It was at this time that I caught up with Kate. Kate told me she’s a good swimmer, and if took me till the third lap to catch her, she must have been a great biker as well.

“Ken, is that you?”

“Huh? Oh HEY!!”

“I reckon our 13 hour goal is pretty much finished.”

“Ha! Yea, I think I gave up on that about an hour ago!”

I know it may sound weird, but while I was on the bike, I was already thinking about the finish line. How would I feel? Would I cry? Would I be jumping for joy? Focus. One leg at a time. The fist loop of the bike I did in 2 hours. I thought, “Ok, no problem, I can hold that the rest of the way. I’ll do this in about 6:15. 6:30 max! However, without a speed display, all I could go off was perceived effort. I clocked myself each lap with the 2^nd lap  in 2 hours 30 minutes. “Uh oh” I thought. When I got to the end of the 3^rd lap, I couldn’t believe I was just at under 7 hours. 7 hours?! How did that happen? I pretty much knew about the middle of the 3^rd lap that my 13 hour goal was pretty much toast. But I really wasn’t down about it. I was enjoying the day the best I could, I’d been riding with the same people for about 6 hours, having conversations, and looking to see if I could see Berit somewhere on the course. I saw her on the first, but that’s about it.

Bike time: 7 hours, 9 minutes

What I learned on the bike:

On the second lap, I saw Phillip Graves and Stephen Bayliss (The pros who finished first and second, respectively) pass me (they were on the third lap at that point). I didn’t see them long, but I did notice one specific thing: they weren’t pushing small gears. In fact, their cadence was much slower than mine. Amateur triathletes are taught to have a high cadence so not to tire your legs out for the run. Pros simply grind it out. Intriguing. While I was climbing a hill, some other pros past me. While most of us were trying to spin or legs fast as possible, pros simply get out of the saddle and put their entire weight into every stroke. Amateurs survive hills, pros attack hills. On my third lap, I tried attacking a few hills as they did, and you know what, it actually works. You get a little winded, but you recover.

Transition 2

One of the cool things about an actual Ironman event is that you don’t have to rack your bike. There are volunteers that take your bike and do it for you. This lets you take your run bag and quickly get to the run. I have to admit, the weather at this point was really nice. The sun came out and it was a nice mid 60’s weather. I was in and out rather quickly. I put on my Zoot shoes and my Energy Belt, and I was off.

RUN (26.2 Miles)

I felt really good coming out. My first mile I ran was a 8:38 mile, and the second at 8:28. I took this to caution and slowed down a bit as I knew I couldn’t hold this place for long. My goal was to run the marathon in 4 hours 30 minutes which is about a 10:30 pace. Running into Bolton was exciting but not for long. Another problem I had with the organization was that there were only 4 aid stations. 4 aid stations for a marathon!!! Is this normal for an Ironman?? Don’t regular marathons have more than this?

The run course took us into the city along a looonnngggg road. After about 7 miles you take a right turn and then run about 3-4 miles in this very constrictive canal. After this, you run into a park in which you have 2 small turns but because of these turns you lose sight on how long you ran in there. Very mentally challenging. While you are in this park, you come to a man at a timing mat and he says,

“First time or second time?”

The winner, finished his marathon before I even got off the bike

“Uh, first time I guess” I said.

“Ok, this is the turn around, go back to the first aid station”

I almost lost it. “Are you *#$*&@ kidding me?” is what I thought. That first aid station seemed like an eternity ago. In fact, it was 12.5 miles ago. Back through the park, along the canal, and back up that llllooooonnnnggg street.

On the way back, I ran into my friend Kate again. She had a much better swim, but I had passed her on the way back through the bike by the 3^rd lap. By mile say 15, she had caught me on the run. We ran around the first pub aid station together and ran for a bit. But by this time, I was really starting to feel the pain. EVERYTHING HURT. My shoulders, my hands, my fingernails, my ears, my teeth, and the bottom of my feet. Funny, the thing that didn’t hurt were my quads. I had been wearing these Zoot shoes since the Philadelphia Triathlon. They are great quick/light shoes that keep your turnover really quick. They are however, not with much support or cushioning. What made me keep stopping was that it hurt the bottom of my feet running on that pavement. I think the Zoots are good if you are running a 3, or 3 and a half marathon, but not a 5 hour marathon. It’s too much time. It was also around this time where I felt a strain in my right shin (more on that later).

I heard a saying about Ironman races in some youtube video: “Race numbers have names. Names have souls, and souls can be broken” On the way back to the park, I saw some random girl I spoke with at the swim start. As I was heading back into the canal, she was just about to enter back to the long road to the first aid station. She was absolutely shattered in tears. Her hands on her knees, a friend was consoling her that she could do it. I had to think she just figured out how far she had to go.

At the last aid station where the park begins, the volunteer said I had less than 2 miles to go. I saw Kate about a whole loop ahead of me so I knew I wouldn’t catch her. I had to walk nevertheless; my feet were on fire, and my right shin was in pain. When I got back to the guy at the timing mat, he asked me again,

“First time or….”

“Second!!” holding up two fingers.

“Ok, go on, the finish line is .8 of mile ahead of you.”

It was still daylight, so there were no light at the end of the tunnel. But it got louder. People were saying, “Well done, well done, the finish is right around the corner mate!”

I wasn’t happy. I was more relieved and I wanted it to be over, but I wanted it to last.  I wanted to revel in this experience, but I wanted to sit down and make the pain go away. It started to get cold about an hour ago. Thank god for the arm warmers.

Run Time: 4 hours, 58 minutes.

I wasn’t getting emotional. No tears, no amazement, just grateful, and appreciative. This was just the first, but as my friend Kjell (look at my favorite athletes) told me once, “You always remember the first.

Hardware

I had a nice welcome to the finish line, mostly because there wasn’t anyone around me. They gave me my medal and took my time piece. Kate was there. She gave me a hug, and I went upstairs to sit down and get some food. Crossing the line, I would have to say… felt like being reborn. They say triathlon is a drug; that once you do it, you’ll want to do it again: Ironman is the drug. I would have to agree with this because soon after I finished, I was already thinking about the next one. My favorite part of any triathlon bar none is immediately after when everyone is sitting on the grass or sitting in the room talking about the race. Strangers talk to each other, compare notes. People you biked with or ran with give you a handshake. Doesn’t matter where you are from, you went through the same experience together, but you did it on your own, and no one can take that away from you. A Spanish guy I spoke with the day before the race told me congratulations and said I should come to Ironman Lanzarote (that’s in Spain).

I stayed up there for awhile.  Again, another sticking point was the food. I’m all for local food, but after an Ironman, I expect a little more than muffins and hash browns. The only warm thing was the Powerbar hot recovery drink.

I wanted to go down to the spectator area where Berit was waiting for me, but I just couldn’t move that quickly. I eventually did after about 20 min of eating a bit and getting some warm fluids inside me.

At this moment I have to take a moment to publicly embarrass Berit.

Berit, Ken's Ironman MVP

B, thank you so much for flying all the way from Dresden, Germany  to support me. Heck, I don’t even have people in my own country come visit me,  let alone fly internationally! I have absolutely no idea how I would have done this without you. You were my right hand gal. With all the logistic changes, you had me, and everything under control. Thank you for renting the car, the hotel, and picking me up from the airport and just being patient. I can’t say enough how much your friendship means to me, and I hope I can pay you back sometime in the near future.

As we walked back to the car, the evening took a slight downturn. Someone smashed the window to the rental car in an attempt to steal what we figured was the GPS/SATNAV. Berit had the unit on her person but we think they might have saw the cord and figured it was in the car. Thank god for insurance! I stayed by the car while Berit went to the police station and listened to other people being called in at the finish line.

We decided it would be best to pick up the transition bags that night instead of waiting till the morning. Walking through the transition area of a triathlon is like walking amongst zombies in the night; so many athletes limping, struggling, trying to get their stuff.

When we got back to the hotel, I took the best shower known to man. I rinsed off my wetsuit, and thanked Berit again for all she had done. I went to bed excited, but exhausted. I might have even slept with my medal on that night. Not sure. Tomorrow was going to be an exciting day: pack, fly back to London for the day to stay with another Japan colleague who had done Ironman New Zealand, and then the day after, fly to Romania to visit old friends from my days in the Peace Corps…

Overall time: 14 hours, 3 minutes

172/254 in Mens 30-34 age group

910/1379 Overall

That’s a good question. What is “good”? Is finishing with a time of 2 hours 41 minutes good? Well considering the last Olympic distance race time was 2:57; then yes, that’s really good. Is having a PR (personal best) 10k run by over 6 minutes good? I think most people would say so.

However, is finishing 100 out of 186 good. Probably not. However, the race was good for me for other reasons.

*****

Swimming in the Schuylkill is an experience in itself. At the starting line, everyone self-seated themselves but the current was so strong we were all on top of each other before the starting gun went off. I think volunteering the day before really gave me insight on the swim course. Right before you exit the water, there is a swim turnaround in which you have to swim upstream for maybe 100 meters.  During the sprint race in which I volunteered, I noticed you had to angle yourself past the exit in order to arrive at the exit without swimming the extra distance…or not to swim into the bank of the river. In the sprint race, there were many weak swimmers who were getting pulled away from the swim exit or they had to get pulled into the swim exit by an escort kayak.

Philadelphia Insurance Medal

Transition 1 has been getting lately. I used extra amounts of body glide to get the suit off which I think helped. My suit didn’t get caught on my ankles as usual, I had my shoes already strapped in my pedals and I was off pretty fast. I even had my first successful running and mounting bike start.

The bike course was a 2-loop course that is pretty flat with rolling hills. I hadn’t really ridden that intense for that duration since my training has mostly been longer distance. But I looked at it as interval training and thoughts of saving something for the run was pretty much non-existent. I concentrated on keeping a high cadence but with the intention on going harder the second time loop. The first lap felt great, but the second lap became pretty congested as the later swim waves began to exit the water. Many times, I and others had to yell “LEFT!!!” in order just to move forward. I even heard reports that there were a few crashes and pile ups. I think organizers did their best with making it safe, but when these distances there are many novices and charity riders. That being the case, there is always going to be a safety issue

Transition 2 was pretty fast as the day before I practiced mounting and dismounting and my new triathlon specific Zoot shoes were easy to slip into. I was in and out in 2 minutes.

As I mentioned before, the last time I did an Olympic race, I ran the 10k in 57 or so minutes. I don’t remember as it was in Japan years ago. I didn’t have my running pace attachment so I couldn’t tell how fast I was going, but I timed the first mile marker which had me at around 8:10 min. I ran the 6.1 miles pretty hard for me anyway but smaller, quicker runners still passed me anyway. One of these days, I’ll be come a fast runner I swear. The run course was pancake flat. Over all I ran a 52.46. One thing that annoyed me on the run course was the jerk of an athlete that yelled at a volunteer because they didn’t have a GU gel at that station. He wasn’t a professional, just an average guy just like you and me. I really think there should be penalty for jerks.

****

So the question remains: Is 2:41 good? People have asked me this week if I was happy with my performance. I still don’t have an answer. I’m not disappointed that’s for sure. Thinking back on it now, here’s what I got out of it:

1. I got out of my comfort zone. I prefer the long distance paced stuff, rather than the quick stuff. I have been primarily running 14, 16, 18 miles so the high paced 6.1 mile was sort of a shock to the system.

2. I incorporated the lessons from Daytona my swim (even though there was a current). The best part about it was that I think I let go of my mental safety barrier when I’m out there in the open water. I just pretended I was in a pool which made extremely more relaxed and confident going into Ironman UK.

3. I ran in my new lightweight Zoot racing shoes for the first time! I absolutely love these shoes as my T2 transition was super fast.

4. I hosted a professional athlete in my home that was super nice and gave me lots of advice on racing and training.

5. I spoke with a former Olympic Medalist (who use to ride with Lance) who has a training center here and speaking with him about my goals, says he has a lot to offer me.

The race was local, and it was fun. I day I volunteered I saw I saw a lot of good things out there I saw people get out of THEIR comfort zones. I saw overweight people taking control of their lives and deciding to be fit. My Ironman distance might be that person’s sprint distance. As someone who was formally obese, I really enjoy seeing things like this. I think that is why I like the triathlon community as much as I do. It is very supportive, and encouraging.

So was my race good? I still don’t quite have an answer.

First things first, I have to thank Cory and Mike from Couchsurfing.com who let me crash at their place. Mike did the sprint race and came in an impressive 20th place overall and 3rd in his age group! I think Mike will do quite well when he decides to move up to longer distances.

Unlike my last race where I was flustered by arriving in the 15 minutes before the transition closed. CGI sporting events required check-in the day before. Having someplace to stay really made the trip much more enjoyable and relaxed. Mike and I had a great pasta dinner and watched Invincible and cut out early for a 4AM wake up.

SWIM

The swim actually went pretty well considering all things. I seeded myself in the back of the floating start still not confident after my JerseyMan performance. At the sound of the horn I got the normal depressing feeling that occurs when you see everyone pull away from you but I was fortunate enough to settle in the slow pack. Again, I was designated silver caps which weren’t that easy to sight from. Lucky, there was a guy in front of me who had some pasty white arms which did the trick.:-)

On a sympathy note, I felt bad while I was swimming as I passed a girl in the last sprint wave who was panicking and crying as people started to pass her. It had to be her first time race. She was wailing around and it took a concentrated effort to get around her.I saw some officials on paddle boats racing towards here.

I navigated the course rather well. I did get too close on the last buoy where my arm got tangled but overall I came out of the water pretty satisfied. I felt relaxed and felt I went out at the right pace. When I swim, time just seems to pass by so slow so you never know how fast or slow I”m going.

42:51

BIKE

I should have had a road bike.

The course was absolutely unforgiving. There was only maybe 5 percent of the course where getting into the aero-position was actually beneficial; and those we mostly on going down hills. Up, down, up down. There were parts of the race where I was going only 2 miles an hour up hills then 60 kph a second later.

I was doing some research on bike pacing before the race. The plan was to go less than race pace perceived effort on the first loop and then take it harder the 2nd lap. This would allow me pass the people who were going out too hard and set myself up well on run. As expected, people passed me and I expected this but I knew I would pass them later. I don’t really mind 40 year old men passing me. I don’t really mind 55 year old women passing me. It’s fine really. It didn’t matter. The course was so brutal that there wasn’t many opportunities to “take it easy”. It just took it’s toll on me, especially as a heavier rider. At one point climbing a hill, I got out of the saddle to climb and my inner thigh almost “caved in”. It’s difficult to describe, the best way to explain it would be that my inner thigh decided not to flex. It was weird and I felt that all the way through the run.  I should have had a road bike. For me at least, the geomatry of the bike would have made the climbs a little more tolerable. You live and learn.

BlackBear Medal

These hills taught me lesson however: I need a different cassette than what I currently have. I have the typical 12-25 cassette but I noticed some athletes really spinning on the hills much more than the poor souls who were grinding it out (i.e. me). Perhaps one with a 29 sprocket. I personally saw two chains break while climbing some of these hills. There was a point where I was thinking, “You know, I could totally just jump off my bike and just push it up this hill…no one would know. And if they did, they would totally understand.” I didn’t do it, but if someone else did, I would totally have understood.

It didn’t help that my bike computer broke on the first lap when my water bottle apparently was fastened and emptied my HEED all over it. It started to function again after the second lap. I wish I could have compared my first lap to the second lap. When I was coming in, looking at my elapsed watch, I thought I was coming in at around 3:10, so after the race, I was a bit surprised my the time I posted.

3:40:21

RUN

I’ll have to admit. I didn’t like the run course at all. It was pretty much an Xterra type of course that included trails, rocks, gravel, dirt, grass, with a little bit of pavement. For me at least, it was hard to gather a rhythm from the get go. That’s not an excuse, just a new experience that was awkward. To say I blew up on the run would be an understatement.

I met a nice guy on the race course and we ran for a good 5 miles together. I believe he was one of the four black athletes out of the over 1000 there (Yes, I do count.) He dropped me in the last mile, so I finished 3rd out of the 4 other black triathlets.

2:24:56

Struck a pose at the finish line

Summary

So, what did I learn?

1. I need a different cassette. I think with my weight and the hills in IronmanUK, it would be the smart thing to do.
2. Doing two Half IM’s in a 3 week period was the dumbest thing possible…but good racing experience.
3. I need to lose weight. Dragging my fat ass up those hills on the bike was no fun at all. I’ll be blogging on this very soon.

Overall, I wasn’t happy with my time. But May has been a learning process. I’ve gained respect for the 70.3 distance as it takes much more time to recover than I thought. See, when your first triathlon is a 3km swim, 155km bike, and 24.2 mile run, it’s difficult to put everything else into perspective regarding race pace, speed, nutrition; the whole gambit. I raced these races with an Ironman distance mentality and perhaps this is a mistake. With 2 months to go to IMUK, I will put an emphasis on my diet, increasing my ride distances, swimming technique, and core strength.

Overall time: 6:53:39

No swimming for me this week.

Currently, I’m still fuming about my performance at the JerseyMan.  I just feel I was so better than that on race day. A few things I noticed on the video:

1. I run sort of weird. Perhaps I should get a running coach? I googled proper running technique and I have taken the advice from those articles and videos and instituted them into my workouts.

2. I don’t attack the water in my stroke. When my hand enters the water, I sort of just drop them into the water…like pendulums.  This week I have been entering the water with vengeance. This has allowed me use my hips better when rotating from side to side. Just look at the guys coming out of the water first and how they slice into the water with authority…I need to start doing that. Maybe I should get a swim coach too.

3.  I recognized that while I had an awesome aerobic base, I had no strength or speed on the bike. I’ve been doing more intense interval work this week with my heart rate typically above 165. I put in 120km/75 miles today and pushed my biggest gears the entire time (a little over 4 hours). I got that advice in an article about Chrissie Wellington. She says if you push big gears the entire time, over a course of a few weeks, you’ll eventually be able to do those same gears in a higher cadence as you were with your easier gears.

Makes sense. And if it works for Chrissie, then I am definitely willing to give it a try. I think the best part of the ride today was flying by two yuppies on Cervelo P3’s.:-)

Train well.

Ken

“Hey man, you’re going the wrong way.”

“Huh? I am?”

“Yea, the race is over there…that way”

As a looked around watching the second heat swim by, I put my head down and looked to get back in the race. What seemed like an eternity, another race official stopped me:

“Hey man! You are cutting the race course”

“What?”

“You have to go on back that way….”

*******

The whole day started late. I woke up late. Dana and I departed for Clinton, NJ late. We arrived at the race course around 6:45 with the transition area closing at 7:00am. The transition proctor let me get my stuff ready but by 7:30 I still hadn’t stretched or even put on my wetsuit. When I did put on my wetsuit, it felt tight. I felt really constricted in the shoulders but no time to worry about it as I had to get to the beach to check in the swim start.

*******

I almost quit. I swear.

The burly man stood there at the edge of his boat looking down on me with complete sympathy. I can tell he felt bad for me; in the way a mother would look at her small child after they fell and bumped their little knee.

“OK”

I exhaled and I started to swim towards the buoy where I finally got in line with other swimmers. By this time, pink caps were passing me (that would be the 3^rd wave). I found a green cap and stayed on his heels the entire time. To make the situation worse, I felt sharp cramps in both of my calves near the end.

What I had hoped would be a 35 minute to 38 minute swim, turned out to be much worse because of a strategy blunder. Not sure of my fitness, I started on the outside toavoid being swam over at the start.

Lesson learned: Don’t start on the outside lane. Stay in the middle and let people pull you. If people pass you, kick you, deal with it.

SWIM TIME: 50: 47

I was pretty upset getting out of the water. I was extremely tired, my right shoulder felt very tight by being constricted by my wetsuit. I was mostly trying to settle down at the transition by going slowly. I got my banana’s, my gels, and I was off. My bike computer broke about 0.5 miles into the race, so I was going off perceived effort.

The goal was to do the bike leg in 3 hours or less. Considering the surprising grades of the hills, the broken computer, and doing predominantly base training; I felt pretty good with my time.

BIKE TIME: 3:16. 30 (17.3mph/27.8kph)

Leaving the bike I felt good. I didn’t grind it out on the hills and was playing it smart by leaving some in the tank for the run.

RUN TIME: 2:17.50 (10:32/mile)

Jerseyman Medal