Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Ironman

No football,rugby,soccer,or whatever player can touch him. 
He has become the ultimate endurance athlete. He is now an "Ironman"
                                          -from Urbandictionary.com


This blog begins, as most race blogs do, with a sleepless night the night before the race.  Of course, there was packing, the drive down, race packet pick up, etc., but those things are of little interest and should go without saying. I think I slept solidly for about 2.5 hours, before spending the hours between 1:30 and 4:00 tossing and turning.  At 4 I got up to eat about 700-800 calories so it would have time to digest before the start of the race.  I woke Emily up at 5 and soon we struck out into the dark to Lake Hefner.  It was a calm, warm morning, but for some reason getting ready in the dark always makes me feel cold.  


Pinks and oranges were just beginning to leak from the horizon as we entered the water.  I had nearly gotten sick before we left the hotel, but now I just wanted to get started.  The anticipation is always the worst - unless, of course, you have a bad race, then the bad race is the worst.  The water was was warm, and rusty from the red Oklahoma dirt.  We're staggered about the start line, but as the 2 minute warning is called, we become more cohesive and a line is formed.  The gun goes off, and the journey begins.


We quickly turned the quiet lake into a frothy mess, like a school of attacking piranha.  I was so distracted by getting hit by other swimmers, and so concentrated on looking for open water in which to swim, that we came to the first turn of the rectangular course before I knew it.  It spread out a little the second half and I finished the first loop in 42 minutes.  I was pretty much on target, so I set back in to a steady pace and tried not to think about the long day ahead.  Unfortunately, on the second half of the second loop, it became hard to concentrate, and I let my mind wander.  I stopped sighting for the buoys, and was just swimming away.  Then next thing I know, I look up and I'm nearly in the middle of the rectangle.  I'm sure this mistake cost me some time, but I'm not a fast swimmer, and it wasn't worth getting worked-up about.  I got back on course and finished the swim in about 1:30.  It was 10 minutes slower than I anticipated, but what's 10 minutes in a 12+ hour day?


I exited the water and, for the first time in my life, had the pleasure of being helped by wetsuit strippers.  Here's how it happens: upon exiting the water, you unzip  your wetsuit and free yourself from the top half.  You pull it down as low as you can around your waist as you are running up the swim finish chute.  Then, once you reach the wetsuit strippers, you lay on the ground and the yank the wetsuit off of you, pulling you partially off the ground in the process.


2.4 miles out of the way; I'm 1/3 of the way done?


I got my bike gear on, grabbed my bike, and headed out.  It was a 4 loop course of about 28 miles each.  Once we got out of town, it was mostly rolling hills through the countryside.  It reminded me a lot of Nebraska, actually. I was a bit surprised, because the website made it seem like it was going to be flatter, but there were no significant climbs, so I'd say it was a pretty easy course.  There were a couple stretches of a few miles each where the road was really rough, but other than that it was pretty smooth sailing.  With 112 miles and a marathon still ahead of me, I tried to remember to race smart and made sure I was taking it very easy the first lap.  I started in on my nutrition and made sure I was eating or drinking every 15 minutes.  By the end of the 2nd loop the wind had picked up a little bit and It was getting hard to make myself eat.  By the end of the 3rd loop, I didn't even want to go back out.  The wind stuck around and on the 4th loop it was starting to get hot.  It was also nearly impossible to make myself take in nutrition, but I forced myself because I knew that I might not get in anything other than liquids on the run.  I finished the bike in 6:30, about 30 minutes slower than I wanted to; I was tired and definitely could have been done for the day, but I knew there was still a lot of work to be done and I tried to stay in the game mentally.  


112 more miles out of the way; only a marathon left?


The marathon was another 4 loop course of about 6.5 miles each. I knew that if I started walking I would easily add 4-6 minutes per mile to my time and ruin a decent race; in fact, I planned my entire race around making sure that didn't happen.  I picked a steady pace and headed out on the run.  Immediately I was met by people walking - either heading out on their first lap or heading back in.  I was tired, sure, but I had high hopes of running the entire marathon, and I was going to try to run until I couldn't anymore.  I got through the first loop about 5 minutes faster than I thought I would, but during the 2nd loop was when everything started to hurt.  Pretty much everything from my bellybutton down hurt.  Also, my stomach was sloshing from all of the liquids, but it was hot and I was too scared of my body shutting down to stop drinking at the aid stations.  Every second that I spent walking through an aid station (to make sure I was getting down my fluids) felt like heaven.  It was amazing how much better it felt to walk than to run, but I was determined to keep going if I could. At this point, during the second and third loops, there were very few people actually running the marathon, so any time the spectators saw one of us they were genuinely impressed.  Their words of encouragement and exclamations of awe at the fact that some of us were actually still running the marathon we're quite inspiring.  


The sun was dragging a trail of purple and gold clouds with it as it began to set behind the lake at the start of my last loop.  At this point I had been so focused on parts all day, that all I could think about was that I was going to make it through the last loop and run the entire marathon.  The thought that I was going to finish an entire Ironman didn't even cross my mind.  I did, however, realize that I needed to pick up the pace a bit if I wanted to break twelve hours and 30 minutes.  Everything hurt, but I was able to go faster without much of an increase in effort - a sign that I had paced myself well and maybe even could have had a faster time had I known where that thin line was.  On the way back to the finish line I started replying to and high-fiving the spectators.  Finally I was having fun.  After three loops, I knew where all the turns were, and I knew I was running faster, but the finish line just didn't seem to be getting closer.  I came around the final turn, about half a mile from the finish, and I could hear the announcer calling out the name of a finisher.  As I got closer, I saw the clock and knew I was going to break 12:30.  I walked the last few feet of the finish chute, and raised a hand in victory.  


Such a huge weight was lifted off of my shoulders, and all I could think about way laying down and not getting back up.  It wasn't until a volunteer hung the medal around my neck and said, "Congratulations, Ironman," that it really hit me.  I just did an Ironman triathlon.  I sat down and drank some chocolate milk.  The volunteers kept asking me if I was ok and if I needed to go to the medical tent.  I guess it's a serious event when they continually ask you if you need to go to the med tent after you finish.  I really didn't know what I wanted - I wanted something to drink, something to eat, and to lay down and sleep all at the same time.  I knew I probably shouldn't keep sitting, so Emily helped me up and walked me to the tent to get my finisher's shirt.  I was pretty much a wreck at this point.  All of my muscles were stiff and sore.  My feet hurt and I was walking like someone who just got hit by a bus.  Emily helped me gather up my things and then brought the car around so I didn't have to walk to it.  She was out there all day too, and she was amazing.  I'm really glad she wanted to come with me.


When we got back to the hotel, all I wanted to do was lay down, but I was disgusting, so I manged to shower.  The shower drained slowly, and after I got done and all the water finally trickled down the drain, there were a number of small ribbons of salt snaking their way towards the drain.  It was ridiculous how much salt there was.  I was actually kind of impressed.  We got some food and went back to the hotel to get some rest.  I had just done a 12.5 hour race on only a few hours of sleep, but unfortunately I was so sore that I couldn't get comfortable.  I would spend the night tossing and turning, and only get a few hours of sleep for the second night in a row.  


Sunday I was a wooden doll whose hinge joints were rusty, but Monday I was starting to feel better.  Thanks to having the day off and my girlfriend getting me a massage, I was nearly moving normally again by Tuesday.  Honestly, it took a couple days to sink in, but I'm really proud of what I accomplished.  There were points during the race when I was sore and I knew that my body wasn't working right or digesting food that I thought that an Ironman is probably not something that anyone should ever do to their body, but I'm only a few days out and I'm already thinking about breaking 12 hours.


Frame of reference (140.6 miles):
Had I started the race in Lincoln and raced a straight distance, I could have raced to Kearney, NE; Manhattan, KS; St. Joseph, MO; or Sioux City, IA.


Awesome:
I had the 4th fastest marathon time


Not awesome:
My swim time was comically slow


Best part of the day:
Wetsuit strippers or being called an Ironman at the finish


Worst part of the day:
Forcing myself to eat at the end of the bike


Next crazy adventure:
www.canadiandeathrace.com?