SIX MORE HOURS

This is the third of four segments chronicling my experiences at the Florida Ironman Triathlon  last November. If you missed the first two, check out “Five Minutes” and “Thirty More Minutes” from the blog archive…………

Lap two of the Florida Ironman Triathlon swim leg was relatively uneventful. No more fist fights or kick boxing. A few more Pink Meanies hung around and watched us swim but seemed to avoid me. The important thing for me personally was maintaining proper form and relaxing to prevent fatigue while maximizing efficiency in the water. Thirty two minutes later I emerged again from the ocean surf at the swim exit point and ran straight through the chute. The swim was over and became history the second I hit dry land. I pulled the wetsuit top down to my waist while running out of the water and then fell onto my back in the wetsuit removal area while two race volunteers each grabbed a leg and pulled the suit off all together. I was somewhat out of breath due primarily to the trauma induced by suddenly standing up and running after being horizontal for so long. I swam 2.4 miles in just over an hour. I knew the time was pretty good but completely meaningless because in a triathlon, swimming is the shortest and arguably least significant leg of the race. The irony here is that you train like crazy just so you can complete it without getting tired because if you are physically fatigued after the swim in an ironman distance triathlon you are in deep caccadoodie and that’s certainly no way to start a 112 mile bike leg!

Before the race I had set a pacing strategy and was on schedule and feeling pretty good heading into the bike leg, but then the weather decided to get involved in the race. An unusual weather system had moved into the panhandle causing windy conditions and lower temperatures. It was 46 degrees with a 20 MPH headwind as I jumped, soaking wet and half naked onto my bike. I exited the transition area and set out on the one lap 112 mile bike loop around the Florida panhandle. Within ten minutes I lost all feeling in my hands and feet.

You may have heard the phrase, “staying in the moment” at some time or another. In Ironman the words are almost gospel. In long distance events of almost any kind the ability to stay focused on the present can be a critical component for success. Cycling 112 miles in a triathlon requires a focused mind because it lasts for several hours and can be boring. Music devices are strictly forbidden and outside of paying enough attention to avoid crashes and rule violations, there’s not much to do but peddle and think. So you think about things like pedal cadence, aerodynamic body positioning, hydration and food intake because they are all important considerations during a long bike race and you will pay a steep price later if you fail to pay attention to any one of them. You may also drift a little and think about your first dog Trixie when you were five years old or the time you streaked in the city police department fountain on a bet with your college buddies. Anyway…back to the whole focus thing……

So that’s what I did for five and half hours. I paid attention, mostly. I had salted baby red potatoes in my top bar storage container and numerous packages of nutrition gels scotched taped down my bike frame, overlapped like roofing to make access easy. I had two 20 ounce water bottles filled with performance drinks and a small container in a back pocket with salt pills. During the course of my ride I ate approximately five bananas, all eleven red potatoes, five gel packs, one Cliff Bar and six- twenty ounce bottles of fluid. The bananas and fluid were provided at 10 mile intervals throughout the course. The first 56 miles was tough. Headwinds made for a slower pace then I had anticipated. The second 56 miles was basically back the way we came so we enjoyed a tailwind most of the way which allowed for me to make up some lost time. Along the route we encountered patches of spectators’ banging those irritating cow bells that somebody must like. I always enjoy seeing the sons and daughters holding up signs of encouragement to their moms or dads. I know that these kids will not really know what their parents are truly experiencing until later in their lives. It will be really cool when it hits them though.

At about the 95 mile mark my lower back got tight and painful. I had been bent over riding in the time trial position for several hours now and it was taking its toll. My legs were also experiencing fatigue issues and I could feel a noticeable reduction in my pedal rotation power output. The tailwind I had enjoyed for the last two hours had now become a cross wind and would soon change directions again. The Grim Reaper of old age was tapping me on the back but I wasn’t about to turn around and look at him.

This was the time in the bike leg that required some increased mental focus and positive thinking. I think it was Vince Lombardi that said “Fatigue makes cowards of us all” and in the course of an Ironman triathlon fatigue can certainly become a major negative if you allow it to. Through countless hours of training in the fatigue zone, I had practiced focus, positive thinking and objective sensory analysis of my physical state in preparation for this race. This may sound somewhat robotic, but it’s simply a matter of detaching your emotional self from the concept of pain or discomfort as a negative and treating them with no more emotional significance then objective sensory inputs to assist you in your decision making. This is common among ultra distance athletes. These inputs are important however and when considered in the context of the moment can be vital when making tactical decisions during the race.

In this particular instance I made the decision to stop pedaling, abandon my aerodynamic riding posture and stand straight up on my bike, allowing my neck, back, hamstrings and calves to stretch out and get a temporary reprieve. Doing this obviously caused me to slow and arguably lose time but the few seconds I would give up now was nothing compared to the time I would lose later if I chose to ignore the issue all together.

The last 5 miles of the bike leg was an act of cruelty by Mother Nature. We were right on the shoreline and a brutal 25 MPH wind shot right down our throats and reduced our speed from 24 MPH to around 8! I had to dig farther into the effort bag then I would have liked, especially considering what was waiting for us at the end and I knew what everyone around me also knew but didn’t say. The end of the bike leg meant the beginning of the third and final leg of the Ironman Triathlon. Things were about to get excruciatingly real.