Fredericia,
Denmark
August 4th,
2001
Swim 2.4 miles (3800m)
Bike 112 miles (180km)
Run 26.2 miles (42.2km)
Sunday,
July 29th
Travel day. After spending the day in Arlington, VA, we head to the airport for an evening flight. Beth and I like the idea of a red-eye. Hopefully Allyn will sleep through most of the flight. Thoughts of racing are on hold, as I just want to take care of the bike and make sure the travel goes as smoothly as possible for my family. My folks meet us at the airport after we check in. Good-byes and lots of pictures. I’m lucky to have parents and family this supportive. Ever since I started racing six years ago, my family has been very enthusiastic about this strange habit of mine, and try to come to as many events as possible.
A
45 minute delay turns into a cancellation.
We try to re-book for that night, but it is too complicated, and opt for
the same flight the next night. Side
note: where is the rest of Team USA? I
figured I’d see plenty of other people toting bike boxes and sporting shaved
legs. Was everyone in Denmark
already?
Always
look for the silver lining, because it will be there!! We manage to get a bulkhead seat on the next
flight. If you ever travel with a baby,
arrange for this luxury accommodation.
In the bulkhead, a small bassinette can be set up to make life
infinitely easier. Basically, the
bassinette is a padded box that is fastened to the wall. This was Allyn’s little throne for the entire
flight; perched up so she could see the rest of the passengers, she played,
ate, and then slept for much of the flight.
I think mom and dad were more stressed about traveling than she was.
We transfer in Brussels (another delay, but this time on 45 minutes or so) and the reality of racing is starting to materialize. Behind my jet lag-induced haze, I start to see people that look like they could possibly be racing. A few Team USA clothing items start to pop up, folks wearing race t-shirts like badges of honor, others sipping on water bottles, and the shaved legs give it all away. It’s pretty cool meeting other members of the team, but all of a sudden, those feelings of: “Did I prepare enough?” and “Man, that guy looks really fit!” start to enter my mind. Allyn is doing great. She’s taking everything in and she loves to go exploring.
Finally, we’re on our way to Billund, Denmark. The flight is just one hour. We arrive and we’re met by a Dane who has been hired by USAT to transport us back to the conference center. He is very nice. He notices Allyn and let’s us know he’s happy to assist in any way he can. This is par for the course; Danes are wonderful people (and thank goodness, nearly all of them speak English).
I have little to no memory of our coach ride back to the conference center. The trip lasts about an hour, or so Beth tells me. We arrive at the conference center and find our room. Nice place!! Many Team USA members have already arrived and have started the pre-race routine of checking out the course, putting bikes back together, and the like. USAT has a mechanic on hand to help with this. He’s a super guy and tunes everyone’s bike up just perfectly. What an effort this guy made to make sure we had what we needed. He freely offers advice and made some minor adjustments to my bike that made for a more comfortable ride.
Not jet lagged too badly, its time to get some workouts in and see how I feel. First, a trip to the pool downtown. If you ever want to get to know a foreign land, I suggest using public transportation. This forces you to get your bearings straight, learn the currency, and you’re reminded that you just aren’t in Kansas anymore. Arrived at the pool; a marvelous facility. The big inflatable whale in the fun pool looks more inviting than the lap pool, but I swam about 800m, did a few pick-ups, and felt decent.
Wednesday, August 1st
Time to check out the race venue. I hooked up with a few other folks, and together, we made the 7km trip via the bus to the transition area. First on the list of things to do: visit the swim start. Chilly water, about 64 degrees, which suited me just fine. What didn’t suit me was the current; pretty stiff going from left to right. As luck would have it, the longest leg of the swim would be against the current. A few strokes into our swim and the rumor about the water is confirmed: jellyfish. No worries, though, unless bumping into these non-stinging floating balls of ectoplasm is something that you find distracting. I liked the company. We scoped out the course, and noted that we would be swimming through a couple of interesting obstacles. The swim course was two loops, and for each loop, we hade to swim through a collection of pier supports. Luckily, they were padded. Mental note: watch out for solid and immovable objects on race day. My goal for the swim was 1 hour, but with the current, who knows what will happen on race day.
After our swim, we headed up to the transition area register. One thing I’ll remember about this town, they know how to put on a race. Everything was so organized and the spectacle rivaled Lake Placid last year. The bike and run courses were clearly marked with arrows and markings on the ground. The town had been preparing for this weekend for two years, so I’ve been told, and no details were overlooked. Main Street, site of the transition and finish line, was a sight to behold. Flags everywhere and all things colorful and with an international flare.
Back at the conference center, the “Team Headquarters,” the tension is beginning to rise. Those happy faces are giving way to more blank stares as people start to focus on the reason for the trip. The French team arrives (distant and not too friendly) and a few members of the British team are also in our hotel. It is exciting and special to be on a team, but when the cannon goes off, it is just you and only you. As Mark Allen states: “This is the reality of racing ironman.”
A light spin on the bike, about 15 miles, to make sure everything is working OK. The bike course goes right by our hotel, so a few of us cruise parts of the course to see what it is like. The course is composed of 3x60km loops and is advertised as “relatively flat.” Relative to what, I wonder? Some challenging hills, but nothing like my training grounds in Lynchburg and Bedford County. I was psyched, as I consider myself a flatlander, but what is subtly tricky about this course is the technical nature. There are plenty of turns, especially in the downtown sections. My goal for the bike was 5:15 to 5:20. I thought I could still make this time given the twists and turns. Unfortunately, this was one of the first errors in my race plan.
Thursday, August 2nd
Today we went to Legoland! The whole team took the trip. Allyn loved it (and so did her parents). The team has taken to Allyn, and she to them. One older couple has stepped up and has been very helpful. Beth is doing great and has been a huge support the whole time; how could I do any of this without her? Legoland is just that: one lego wonder after another. It’s amazing what you can make out of lego. If you’re ever in Germany or Denmark, you must put Legoland on your list of places to visit.
The trip ended in downtown Fredericia for a team photo and the parade of nations a la the olympics. Here we got to see the members of each team, most wearing their team uniforms, marching down Main Street. The US had the biggest team, followed closely by the Danes and the Brits. Italy, however, gets the award for the loudest. Only eight or nine guys can make a whole bunch of noise. Thirty teams were represented, with the Scandinavian teams looking the most fit and focused. Secretly, I was hoping some of the competitors I was looking at were pros (the pro race took place on the 5th). Everyone looked very fit. I could already tell that there would be no back-of-the-packers in this race. No fooling around.
The parade ended and the athletes headed to the town movie theater/library for a carbo-loading dinner. This was pretty cool. All 800 or so competitors, many with family and friends, packed into one place eating together. Allyn slept, we ate, and watched a video from last year’s race. A song had been written for the race as well. This was played over and over. Many folks I talked to thought it was cheesy, but I thought it was cool. The song was about sacrifice, being alone in a foreign country, and feeling the fire of competition. It really did something for me, and showed me that the race organizers were serious about treating the teams well.
Friday, August 3rd
First thing in the morning, we have a team meeting. On the agenda: race rules, times, more rules, lots of discussion, and loads of questions from team members. Tim Yount, deputy director at USA Triathlon, leads the meeting. He’s a funny guy and handles the meeting rather well. Tension really starts to rise here for everyone. There is some confusion about the bike course, and no one seems to know the answer. I figure it will all be obvious on race day. I don’t plan on being out front on my own, so it shouldn’t really be an issue. I know my body is getting into race mode when I have to go to the bathroom a couple of times during the meeting. Sounds funny, but this is usually an indication.
Some mellow running today. Legs starting to feel really good. Just a few pick-ups and I’m starting to feel like I’m ready to race. If you’ve raced in an ironman before, you know how organized each competitor needs to be before race day. Transition bags need to be packed, and the bike needs to be equipped with tubes, cartridges, and spaces to stash extra food and the like. My bike looks really good and like it WANTS to go fast. This is a good sign. I like to think I’ve got this connection with my metal steed. I’m thankful for the boys at Bikes Unlimited for the great job they do keeping the old components in working order.
The US Team is scheduled to rack bikes at 3pm. We’re there early and have a chance to scope out the flow of the transition area. No problems here, only the steep (climbing on all fours kind of steep) 100m climb from the water. This includes a trip over a rickety bridge. I can’t imagine running over this thing, feeling like you do when you’ve just excited the water. Mental note: running from the water to the bike may be the hardest thing I do on race day.
Bike is racked, gear is where it needs to be, and we head back to the hotel for a nice refreshing night of…no sleep.
Saturday, August 4th – Race Day
Two coaches are scheduled to depart from our hotel to transport the team to the race site. I’m on the john and miss the first bus, and the second bus, can you believe it, is late. People are pissed and Tim is confused. I’m feeling rather placid at first, and just when I start to get worried, our coach shows up.
Once in the transition area, all goes according to plan. We shuffle off to the water, and on the way, I have one last visit with Beth and Allyn. Allyn is wearing a “ My Daddy is an Irondad” shirt and looks pretty excited. Her energy is awesome; I knew it was going to be a good day. The entire field assembles at the water front, facing one direction like a bunch of migrating animals. An announcer states that we are “now in the hands of the starter.” No countdown, the starter just sets off a cannon when he thinks everyone is ready to start. The first 15 minutes is typical of a mass start; lots of bumping and getting pushed around. No big deal, I just tried to tell myself that everyone is just doing the same thing I am. I did some pushing, too. Hey, you’re in my space, I’m going to let you know…politely. I find my rhythm about 20 minutes in as the pack begins to spread out. Coming in after the first loop, we swim under a small bridge and then up to the beach for a sprint around a pylon. The race clock reads just over 29 minutes, so I’m thinking I might break an hour. More importantly, I’m feeling good. The second loop, the chop picks up, and after a few mouthfuls of water, I decide to breath exclusively on the left instead of bilaterally. Despite the rough water, I’m reminded of how I felt last year at Lake Placid. I felt like I could have gone on forever at that pace. I’m a little bummed when I come out of the water. My split is a little over 1:01.
A quick transition and it’s time for a little bike ride. Heading out was awesome. Loads of spectators and plenty of USA supporters. I saw Tim Yount, who is notorious for yelling loudly as team members go by. He was fresh from Short Course Worlds in Edmonton, and from the sound of things, he still had plenty of energy for this race. I didn’t see Beth, but after the fact, she told me she was right there at T1.
After winding out of town, the bike headed into some really nice farm country. The landscape was complete with big windmills, long rolling hills, and quaint little towns. The plan was to wear arm warmers through the first of three 60km loops, and drop them off when I passed the hotel. As in the swim, the field spread out as the race went on. Seeing the colors from so many countries was definitely memorable. Finland, England, Spain, South Africa, and the list goes on. I felt marvelous for the first and second loops, all on a pace to finish the ride in 5:15. The rain came during the second loop to mix things up a bit, and after the storm, the wind picked up as well. In ITU races, the draft zone is 30 meters. This is a big draft zone compared to the USAT draft zone of three bike lengths. With no experience racing under these conditions, I decided to play it super safe and avoid any tangles whatsoever. The marshals issued warnings, but I saw no penalties.
At one turn-a-round point, I noted I was the 5th American in the race. I thought this was pretty cool. On the third lap, I passed another Yank, and after a quick potty stop (no descents long enough for the “golden shower”), I started to feel some fatigue. I backed off the pace to avoid going in the tank before the run started. Something I learned from Lake Placid is that you just can’t fake a marathon. You’ve got to be ready. I finished the bike in just over 5:20. In hindsight, I now know I went too fast on the bike. Before even seeing the course, I decided any “relatively flat course” would be a fast course, so I set my goal of 5:15-5:20 accordingly. My feeling is that I pushed too hard on the less technical areas to make up for the winding and turny sections in town.
Heading out for the run, I saw that my total elapsed time was 6:25. Wow!! A 3:35 marathon and I could break 10 hours! Lots of yells from the USA contingent, especially Tim, but I didn’t see Beth and Allyn. The course consisted of four 10.5km out and back loops, with each loop meandering through fields and neighborhoods, and then ending back downtown. I felt marvelous on the first loop and managed to cover the ground in just over 52 minutes, on pace for right around 10 hours. I had two reactions to this: 1) This is great, I can do this! 2) Damn! I wish I wasn’t that close so I wouldn’t have to hurt so much. At this point, my mind is jumping between survival and racing. My guess is that the experienced ironman competitors can all go faster on the bike, but they choose not to in order to preserve their race. This sounds obvious, but for me, I just had to experience it. On the professional side of things, this is how some of the German triathletes race. It is not a popular style of racing. I have a lot of respect for these guys. They believe a race can be won on the bike, while the majority sits back and “saves” for the run. As far as amateur ironman veterans go, they must know how much time to “give” on the bike in order to have a great run, and more importantly, get across the finish line as soon as possible.
After the first loop, I picked up a colored band/necklace to indicate I had finished the first of four loops. Heading out for the second loop, I finally catch a glimpse of Beth. She mentions that Allyn saw me first as I run by – how cool is that! On the second loop, I slow considerably, and it takes me about 28 minutes to cover the next 5km. The third loop is a little better (I FEEL better) but glances at my watch tell me I’m still slowing down. About half way through the third loop, I’m caught by a couple of Americans and LOADS of Danes are cruising by. They can run like nobody’s business. I’m in the advanced stages of booty-lock which quite possibly contributes to the illusion of their speed. The American contingent is no longer yelling “Let’s go!” or “Looking good!” Instead, I hear things like “Hang in there” and “Only two loops to go.” Hmmmm…I guess my face was telling a story. Anyway, it was nice to know they were there.
On the final loop, I’m heading out of town, and for the seventh time I pass this guy who has been banging a plastic bottle on a lamp post to cheer on the runners. He’s encouraging all of the competitors, and to the English speaking competitors, he says in a monotone: “Go for it.” He sounded like an unenthused Arnold Schwartzenager. Hearing that for the seventh time just about drove me nuts. On the way back, I just had to stop, shake his hand, and tell him how appreciative I was. I really meant what I said. This guy was out there for HOURS, and I can still hear that banging bottle inside my head. I was appreciative, but no doubt knowing I only had around 2km to go helped a little. Final run time 4:12. One minute slower than Lake Placid.
Coming down Main Street for the finish was very memorable. My feet felt lighter, and as I passed people wearing only two colored bands, I felt very thankful all of a sudden. The crowds were great, and little kids ran up to me, asking for water bottles, my hat, my sunglasses, or just about anything that could be safely removed from my body. I didn’t experience the intense emotions that I experienced at the finish in Lake Placid, but seeing Beth and Allyn after I finished was a relief indeed.
“Running is like getting up every morning and shooting
yourself. You know you are going to put
yourself through something really painful, but you also know how much
strength and speed are going to come with it.
The passion of the runner is to force forgetfulness on that pain and
embrace the benefits that will without fail make you a better person.”
Running with the Buffaloes by Chris Lear
This book is about the 1998 University of Colorado XC Team. A great read, and something to pick up if you ever find yourself wondering why you are drawn to competition and improving your personal best.
How does this race compare to Lake Placid? Not sure how to answer that question. Every ironman, I feel, is different. This applies to races on the same course from year to year. Conditions vary, each competitor is different, and the list goes on. The competition, according to some of the ironman vets, was tougher than at a Hawaii qualifier. Several guys who have qualified for Hawaii weren’t able to crack the top five in their age-group. (!) Others who felt like they would certainly PR were left scratching their heads.
Things I’ll do in preparation for my next ironman:
1) Take my wife and daughter with me – the best inspiration around
2) continue with a good off-season weight program
3) get even more dialed in on ironman nutrition
4) run more
5) put more Body Glide on; brutal chaffing in various areas on my body not covered with the stuff
6) take race day as it comes, whatever that means
7) keep riding with roadies, running with runners, and swimming with swimmers
Things I won’t do:
1) set a goal time
2) wear a watch (Catherine, I heard you but I didn’t listen)
3) see #1
Thanks to all my training buddies out there, my VES family, Bike Unlimited, and especially to Beth, Allyn, and the rest of my family (Mom, Dad, Boojie Mom, Greg, Les, Devon, Kelly, Deb, Jerry, Don, Heather, GG, and UB) for some awesome support, patience, and understanding.
Lake Placid – 352 days and counting