Ironman Texas 2012 Race Report

This is going to be way too long for most people to read. It’s not too late to turn back now! Or just read the last few paragraphs. I write these things to record and share the experience, and especially to help me process and gain insight into what happened.

I’ve been avoiding writing this in part because I realize this is the last Ironman I intend to do for at least a year. I have many emotions about that but I want to get to the race report first, which of course begins before the actual day of the race.

Linda and I arrived in Houston on Wednesday afternoon, drove to our low budget Days Inn, reassembled the bike without any trouble (unlike last year), and went for dinner. Sleep was less than great thanks to the meth lab operation going on in the room above us. Creaking and footsteps back and forth over our heads went all hours of the night.  I was okay with my earplugs and facemask but Linda didn’t sleep well.

Thursday was filled with “things to do ”including getting a swim in at the Conroe 50 meter natatorium pool (a swimmer’s paradise), replacing elbow pads (that I couldn’t find in San Diego) on my aero bars, checking in for the race, walking the expo, getting some ART on my plantar f-ing-itis, and possibly renting some race wheels for the bike. We managed to get all of this in, including getting a set of Zipp 404 carbon clinchers. Did a test ride which went well except when I had to stop or slow down. They didn’t change out my brake pads and whenever I applied the brakes the squealing that came out was like a semi with bad brakes. The brakes were screaming and loud! I wasn’t sure this was going to work so I planned to go back to Race Day Wheels on Friday before the 3 pm bike “witching hour”. This is not the stress and concern I wanted to have with less than 2 days to go.

At the end of my training/test ride, because of the location of our motel, I could only get to it by either riding on the Interstate 45 “frontage road” that had no bike lane and traffic going 60 mph OR I could ride “off-road” through parking lots, over curbs, and across weeds and grass and dirt. The off-roading was the only safe choice, which allowed me to see what it was like to change the rear inner tube since weeds and grass and dirt contained stickers.

The check-in was quick and smooth and the expo was buzzing with people. The best thing there for me, having been to many of these, was finding out about a restaurant called Pure. After the expo we ate lunch at Pure and I decided this would be perfect for my favorite pre-race dinner of grilled salmon, rice, and grilled/roasted vegetables. Low stress and a 25% discount to boot.

The next day we discovered that for various reasons the brake pads on my bike could NOT be swapped out. I could either live with the squeal or I could go back to my own wheels. The mechanic pointed out that I should only need to use the brakes once – at the end of the ride! I also stopped by Bikeland to see if they had an option but it had so many potential pitfalls that I didn’t want to risk it. He also said that I shouldn’t be braking much anyway. In the end I decided to let the brakes squeal like a pig and hope for the best. Linda helped me go through my check lists for the bags. Then we went to transition where I racked my bike and turned in my bags before getting a Chipotle veggie burrito.

Son1 flew in and Linda picked him up while I did stuff in the room to get ready. Got him settled with what appeared to be a home made rollaway bed and then we went to dinner. With my own brand of ulcerative colitis (pouchitis) giving me problems, I took my 3^rd day’s worth of antibiotics. Don’t really like to but on the other hand it certainly eliminates some of the issues that I have while racing. Don’t know how they affect nutrition absorption, tendon strength and flexibility, or any other factors but in this case it seemed to be the right choice. Got nutrition prepped for the race, made sure everything was laid out and ready, and got to bed around 9:30.

Slept well, got up at 4:10, showered, and was ready. Linda found a good parking spot so she and Son1 accompanied me to transition while I pumped my tires, loaded my bike nutrition, and put my running shoes in my run bag. Problem #1 came when my pump wouldn’t work on the rented wheels. Not sure why but I immediately got into the line with about 50 other people, all waiting to get their tires pumped. It went pretty fast but it’s never fast enough when you want to get on with race prep. I kept reminding myself to stay emotionally even and calm and that this is one reason I get to races early.

Finally finished getting everything ready, said good-bye to my dedicated supporters, and walked the 8/10 of a mile to the swim start. Turned in “Special Needs” bags, found the portapotty line to be fast moving, and then prepared for the swim. At 6:20 I got my rubber tubing with handles out to warm up my lats, shoulders, and triceps, only to have it snap on me. At least I didn’t get hit by it. Tied a knot and continued. This always helps me when there’s no opportunity to have a proper swim warmup. Just 20 feet from where I was putting on kinesiotape and stripping down to my old school Speedo was Jordan Rapp, the eventual winner of the Men’s pro division, getting ready himself.

I headed over to the boat ramp to be one of the first in the water. I knew where I wanted to start and I also wanted to be able to hold onto a corner of the large buoy instead of treading water for 20 min. All went according to plan as I waited in the water until I looked down at my watch/heart rate monitor 5 minutes before the start. There were no numbers showing – just water filling the watch. I obviously didn’t seal the back properly when I changed the battery. With the watch band almost broken anyway and the watch a lost cause, I just pulled it off my wrist and let it sink to the bottom with the rusty fish hooks and who knows what else. Though I planned to have it for the bike and was counting on it for the run, I chose to adjust my thoughts on how I was going to race differently now that I didn’t have this “tool” to use. Again I stayed even and made adjustments to what I could control and what I couldn’t.

The start was again very crowded but many waited patiently on the bank or clinging to the docks or kayaks, waiting to go. One guy, who was a kayaker volunteer last year and had his kayak swamped by swimmers hanging onto it, was racing this year. I looked over at him and saw him blowing up a beach ball which he then held onto and floated on until the cannon went off. I thought this was a brilliant idea as did two woman, each of which were holding onto one of his shoulders. On video you can see that he punched the ball into the air when we started the swim. For my 2^nd straight Ironman they did not blast the song Iron Man by Black Sabbath (and Ozzy Osbourne). VERY disappointing! We speculate that it must be some royalties thing and imagine that the business savvy Sharon Osbourne is the reason WTC isn’t playing it but who knows?

I stayed wide right on the swim down the lake as much as possible, trying to swim a straight line to the far buoy instead of along the buoy line. It may have been less crowded there for the faster swimmers. I got bumped and run into a few times but it seems never to be as bad for the faster people as it does the middle of the pack swimmers who are surrounded by others most of the way. One person described it as a cross between a swim and an MMA fight.

I swam steadily in the 81.8 degree lake water. It was too warm but not horrible. Was able to draft some but then would either lose the person or he or she would swim off course and I would abandon them, eventually finding someone else but often swimming without someone directly ahead or to the side. I never felt really good in the water. My left arm didn’t seem to be on track and began to hurt a little – a sure sign that I was pulling slightly wrong by possibly dropping my elbow or crossing over. There’s a right turn up a channel for the final 3^rd of the 2.4 miles. It makes this swim feel kind of unique but it also makes for crowded conditions as it narrows. With about 1,000 meters to go a calf cramp hit which stopped me briefly before I swam onward, trying to relax and keep going. (An omen for the future?) It wouldn’t release so I stopped again and stretched it with my hand. Began swimming again with a cramp appearing in my left leg. Was able to relax the muscles while continuing to swim and they eventually disappeared.

Linda and Son1 were on the bank cheering me on. Son1 spotted me first, much to Linda’s chagrin since she is the one who can pick my stroke out in a crowd! They got pictures at the swim exit and Son1 yelled my number which alerted the volunteers to get my bag for me before I had a chance to. Transition seemed to take forever, in part because I was trying to put my tri clothes on over a wet body. I also used Zoot arm coolers which added over a minute to T1 but I would be glad I had them.

I did my running bike mount and exited transition. My shoes didn’t click in like usual so I wondered if I had grass and mud stuck in the clips. After a few hundred meters I was certain they were clipped in so it was no worry. I kept my effort and enthusiasm under control, taking in solid nutrition and water with Nuun electrolytes for the first 40 miles. Every time I made a 90 degree turn my brakes squealed loudly, very likely causing concern for everyone within earshot. I took in a bottle of 5 Hour Energy and switched to liquid calories (Perpetuem). Got water at every aid station beginning at 21 miles, using it to replenish my aero bottle and squirting it on my arms coolers. I quickly learned to just bite off the pop top bottle top so it wouldn’t close on me when I jammed the end into the aero bottle for filling.

The course is a beautiful, flat (except for the many rollers) one loop ride that takes you through woods, forest, and farm land. It is green and lush and mostly very rural. Being surrounded by nature and the changing views makes the ride interesting and, for me at least, go by quickly. The roads were mostly in great shape, although a friend of mine was unfortunate to hit a pothole and gack his wheel – twice – ruining his attempt to qualify for Kona.

I tried to stay even and conservative on the first half of the bike, saving energy for the headwind coming back. Many people complained about the wind but to me it didn’t seem like any big deal. Yes, my first half of the 112 miles was faster than the 2^nd but I kept the effort pretty consistent throughout, with a few exceptions where I pushed a little too hard for 30 sec or a minute, elevating the heart rate a little high. I was sweating a moderate amount as well so I took in a good amount of water, supplementing with SaltStick electrolyte capsules every hour beginning with hour 3. To me it didn’t feel overly hot, though again, many people complained. I imagine my training prep did have a significant effect on my heat tolerance. With only about 200 people ahead of me to start the bike, I knew I wouldn’t be passing many people. There were a few but for the most part all I saw were speedy cyclists passing me. I would look for their age on their calves but didn’t see anyone from my age group.

The final 15 miles I felt like I wanted to be done and off the bike. Within sight of the dismount line I unstrapped my shoes, pulled my feet out, and pedaled with my feet on top. Handed off my bike to a wonderful volunteer and jogged to get my run bag. Stopped in the portapotty for a long bladder draining, got my run stuff on, left my bike stuff with another volunteer, and got out onto the run course.

The sun was out and it was pretty hot and humid. Again, to me it didn’t seem too bad.  It took about 3 miles to start feeling good. Until then I took more frequent walk breaks instead of trying to force it. At that point I felt pretty steady and under control. Without a heart rate monitor or watch I had no reliable way of confidently telling where I was pace-wise or heart rate zone-wise. Because I’ve gone too hard at the start in the past, this was not a good thing but obviously I didn’t have a choice. It was liberating too, which is how I chose to deal with it back when I first found the watch unusably  filled with water. I just ran based on feel, trying to keep things at an effort I thought I could sustain for 26.2 miles.

Linda and Son1 positioned themselves on the course in a spot that allowed me to see them 3 times on each of the 3 laps. This was awesome, except once on the first lap when Linda asked, “How many laps is this?” I gave her a grouchy “One” answer as I ran on.  Around mile 8 or 9 the cramps started in the legs. First a hamstring, then a calf, then anterior calf (peroneus or digitorum?) muscle. I could feel things start to seize up so I would immediately back of and take a walk break. Then I would run again. Each time they returned I would back off and walk. Pretty soon they were so forceful that they wouldn’t allow me to run at all and I had to alternate “fast” walking with slower walking. I grabbed my special needs bag on the 2^nd lap and got my ace bandage to wrap around my hamstring. This helped a little but since other muscles were involved I still wasn’t able to run much.

By about mile 12 I knew I was likely in for a long walk. And with that walk I knew that the Kona goal was not to be. I thought about how many people knew of my goal and how disappointing this was, especially since I would be taking a break and wouldn’t be racing another Ironman for more than a year. It was a mental challenge to acknowledge all those thoughts but then return to the present. This is where I was most pleased with myself. I didn’t get overly emotional or allow this discouraging reality take over what I was doing. I still intended to finish as quickly as my body would allow under the conditions of the race that I had no control over.

I pushed onward, testing my legs every once in a while to see if they would allow me to run, jog, or even shuffle along faster than plain walking. Each time the immediate answer was NO. Finishing was never a certainty in spite of having plenty of time to walk it and still finish before midnight. Never take finishing for granted. The fact is that I was constantly teetering on the edge of cramping. I knew that if a cramp really took hold, I would be unable to walk and my day might be done. I continued to smile, interact with spectators, appreciate the volunteers, have fun, and take what the day gave me. I walked as fast as my legs would allow, hoping that if I walked long enough that maybe I’d be able to run across the finish line.

I walked at least 15 miles of that damn marathon. Late into the 3^rd lap, Linda and Son1 were no longer at their spot but heading to the finish line to wait for me. With about 2 miles left I gave running yet another try and found that I could do it. I proceeded cautiously, still taking walk breaks, not wanting the muscles to seize up and stop me in my tracks.

This made the final miles extremely joyful. I was grateful to be there, grateful to be running, and happy to have overcome the obstacles that landed in my path. The finisher’s chute was filled with spectators – it was loud, exciting, and fun. Instead of killing myself the last few miles as I always do so that I’ve expended everything I have, I was able to run comfortably, fist bumping and high-fiving people, enjoying the culmination of 141.4 miles (if you include the .8 mile hike to the swim start)! I didn’t find out until later that Chrissie Wellington was there handing out the finishers medals and hung one around my neck. How disappointing not to have known! She is an incredible person and an awesome role model for this sport. Her smile during racing is the example I try to follow when I’m out there racing.

Once I crossed the line a volunteer stayed with me, gave me water, got my photo taken, and waited patiently while I found Linda. When I finally did I hugged her and, as always, cried. It’s such an emotional release to finish and then be with the one you love who supported you on this crazy journey. From there my volunteer “finish line catcher” took me to the medical tent so I could get ice on my foot. I expected the plantar f-ing-itis to hurt progressively more as the night went on so I wanted to try to head off some of that inflammation and pain. I sat in a chair, icing my foot, eating a Clif Bar, and drinking my first ice cold O’Doul’s that Son1 carried for me for who knows how long. It was SO good! Eventually he and I walked over to transition to pick up the bike and bags while Linda went to get the car. The walk went on forever but was probably ½ or ¾ of a mile. I ate potato chips and drank O’Doul’s the whole way. Once we found Linda and the car we loaded up the bike, returned the race wheels, showered, and went out for a Mexican food dinner.

The question for me to answer at this point is what caused the leg cramps. Is it insufficient electrolytes? Not enough water? Going too hard on the bike? Simple muscle fatigue? I do not think it was hydration. I had to pee a lot once I got off the bike. Maybe I was short a few ounces but not much more than that. Hydration on the run in the early stages may have been an issue, though I drank 5 to 8 oz. at each mile aid station, plus I chewed and swallowed ice. I think hydration was good. Electrolytes may need to be increased but I am not convinced that was the key reason for the leg cramps on the run either.

I believe the ultimate reason for my having to walk on the marathon was that a lack of true run training caught up with me. My longest actual run was about 4 ½ miles going into the race. While I did plenty of substitute training, mostly on the elliptical, not being able to run in training and then trying to run yet another marathon at the end of an Ironman, and doing it in the heat of Texas, all led to the cramps and the walking. With a bike split that was a personal best by 10 minutes when I actually wanted to ride  about 20 minutes slower than I did, well, I guess it’s no wonder I struggled. In the end, though, I think the bike effort was just a minor factor. It’s time to solve the plantar fasciitis so I can move forward and so that I can find the joy in running again.

Ironman Texas 2012 was my personal worst (slowest time) and personal best as far as dealing with the challenges of the day and still finishing. I have no regrets about the effort I put forth. I achieved many goals, including finishing, challenging myself to push it to my limit, staying emotionally even, and having fun. I fell short on my time goal, my place goal, and certainly on my attempt to qualify for the Kona World Championship. While it’s disappointing to not achieve those goals, it does not negate my other benchmarks of success. And to quote Jordan Rapp, the male pro winner, at the awards luncheon, “Even if you didn’t finish. Even if you fell short of your goals. Even if you had a “bad race”. Even if you… “failed” at whatever you set out to do. You dared to dream.”

I come away from this race satisfied but sad. The sadness comes from the decision going in that this would be my last Ironman for a while. The time and expense of it all are substantial. The amount of time away from family is huge. And, even though emotionally I would love to race an IM again this year, I know that I really need to have a healthy foot on which to run and train and race. Plus, it makes a lot of sense to refocus on going shorter for a while. In the end I think that will make me faster when I do go long again. I still dare to dream.

Timing Stats:

Swim 1:05:57 204 overall, 170 male, 1^st in age group of 74

T1 7:04  12^th fastest split in age group

Bike 5:25:36 (20.64 mph) (56 mi splits – 2:41:29, 2:44:07) 245 overall, 220 male, in 2^nd place for age group (guy in 1^st did not finish) (4^th fastest bike split in age group)

T2 6:01  7^th fastest split in age group

Run 6:08:33 (8.4 mi split 1:27:39 – 10:26/mi; 8.5mi split 2:04:19 – 14:35/mi; 8.6mi split – 2:27:42 – 17:12/mi; last .7 mi split 8:53 – 12:41/mi) 36^th fastest run split in age group

12:53:11 841 overall, 663 males, in 13^th/74 for age group