Three years ago, I experienced a major setback: I DNFd* at Ironman Louisville 2015.
To say it was a disappointment would be the most charitable assessment. My wife had been such a great sherpa, only to see me miss the final turnaround cutoff time and get pulled at mile 17 of the run.
As a result. I had unfinished business. I owed Wifey a finish.
Like Julius Erving of those 1977 Philadelphia 76ers--who blew a 2-0 lead to the Portland Trailblazers--and like Jana Novotna, who blew a lead in the third set against Steffi Graf at the 1993 Wimbledon, and like Goran Ivanisevic--who pumped a record 37 aces past Andre Agassi in the 1992 Wimbledon Championship, only to come up short in 5 sets--I had a score to settle.
No, this wasn't the NBA Championships, or Wimbledon for that matter.
I had a score to settle with the Ironman demon that torments every athlete on the second loop of the run. I call that demon IronBitch (heretofore referred to as India Bravo, or Ms. Bravo).
She waits patiently, usually somewhere past mile 10 of the run. But she is sadistic. She fights dirty. She will charm you and then plunge that knife into your heart as you begin to run out of gas.
This year, I signed up for Ironman Chattanooga. It is a 2.4-mile downstream swim, a 116-mile bike (4 miles longer than a standard Ironman), and a 26.2-mile run that features one of the toughest courses on the Ironman circuit.
In other words, I scheduled my appointment with Ms. Bravo for September 30, in the city where I met my wife. I decided I would settle my score with Ms. Bravo once and for all.
I trained for that meeting for 5 long months.
I rode my bike trainer religiously, and included transition runs after my rides. I blocked off Saturdays for long bike rides. In the 4 months leading to Ironman, I had 11 rides of 6 hours or longer, including the 160-mile Ride Across INdiana (RAIN).
I rode 3 times a week, I swam twice a week. And after my rides, I added small transition runs. I also did long runs the day after my long rides. And in my long runs, I simulated long distances on tired legs, just to get mentally prepared for my meeting with Ms. Bravo on the back half of the run. I also tapered for 2 weeks instead of 3: I wanted to make sure I was at peak fitness going into the race.
I felt very good going into race week: I had a minor stomach bug a week out of race day, but that cleared up quickly. Then, during race week, Chattanooga received the unexpected "gift": HEAVY RAINS. From Sunday through Thursday.
The runoff--and the necessary release of 100,000 cubic feet per second of water from the dam--made the Tenneseee River a fast-moving cesspool of sewage. On Thursday morning, three days before the race, Ironman officials cancelled the swim.
At the same time, they made our lives harder, not easier, by (a) going to a time-trial start on the bike, and (b) enforcing a modified cutoff time for the finish.
With that news, I felt that my finish would have an asterisk, as an Ironman triathlon includes all three disciplines.
At the same time, you can't control the weather. I decided I'd make the most of what was now an IronBrick. Besides, that run is pure brutality.
I started just before 9:40 AM. Temperature was mild, in the 70s, and it was overcast. There had been rain, but it cleared out just as I started. The first 30 miles were uneventful. I was killing it. I was ready; I had slept well the night before--got a full 8 hours of REM sleep--and was jacked.
Then, at about mile 35 of the bike, the clouds moved out, the sun moved in, the heat went up, and so did the humidity. I started feeling tired.
During the bike, I started out consuming Gatorade exclusively at every rest stop. But I felt like I was bonking at mile 50--very unusual--so I cut back on the Gatorade and went to water. Success!!!!
On the second loop of the bike, no one passed me. I saw athletes WALKING their bikes up what seemed like otherwise mild hills. I also saw a fair number of folks who had flats or other mechanical issues. They looked defeated.
Still, I felt good on the bike, although I haven't figured out how to prevent chafing. Body Glide is good but is still short of the glory. Oh well, a little chafing won't ruin my day.
I finished the bike in 7:37, and, other than the chafing, felt great. I would have finished faster, but I had to stop to pee several times. I haven't perfected the art of peeing in my pants while biking.
My goal for the bike was to have my legs ready for the run. Mission Accomplished!
I was also well-hydrated. Here is the Garmin file for my bike performance.
In transition, I was methodical: dried my feet, changed my socks, put on my running shoes, put on my race belt and back brace, and downed some gels and some water.
I figured I had 7 hours to do the run. Even in the Hell that is Ironman Chattanooga, this was doable.
Did I say I had my legs?
I was ready to OWN IronBitch; er, I mean Ms. Bravo.
Coming out of transition, I started slowly on the run: I jogged the grassy part coming out, then walked the uphill leading to the first bridge. I made a strategic plan to jog the downhills, walk the uphills, and run/walk the flats at a 50-step run/50-step walk pace.
I kept it very methodical, and paid close attention to my heart rate (HR). Coming out of transition, my HR jumped into Zone 4 too easily, so I made it a point to err on the side of going easy in the early stages.
As the sun started to set, and I started to get more shade in the park, my HR went down to Zone 3 on the jogs and Zone 2 on the walks. SUCCESS!!!!
When I reached mile 10, where IronBitch--er, I mean Ms. Bravo--stabbed me 3 years ago, I felt great this time, even as the hills of the North Shore were getting brutal. When I pulled into the halfway point--three years ago I was defeated--I was looking forward to meeting Ms. Bravo this time.
I was looking for her, calling her name!
Other than needing to poop--which I did at mile 15--I felt good, even though I was clearly getting slower. The fatigue was coming, but it wasn't the pale dread of bonking. I had beaten back Ms. Bravo's minions. I wanted to fight her.
Doing the math, I knew I was ahead of schedule, but I didn't want to get complacent either, because Ms. Bravo will make you pay for complacency. I knew what pace I needed to keep, and I was still on my target. Coming into mile 17, where I got pulled 3 years ago, I muttered, "Yippie Kiyay!"
I was tired, but I knew I was going to finish. I was jacked!
Yes, I had one more trip into North Shore for those hills.
Yes, it was going to suck.
But I was going to finish.
I saw those hills as a necessary evil. Every mile, I muttered, "Thank you sir, may I have another?" Then, with 5K to go, I spotted Ms. Bravo, the demonic killer of Ironman dreams, hiding in the bushes. She was crying. She asked me if she could walk with me.
"I'll take a HELL with the NO to GO..."
When I saw the marker for mile 25, I knew I was good to go. I was sore, but not that sore. I was tired, but it was more of an "I had a long day and I want to be done" kind of tired rather than an "Oh God please put me out of my misery!" tired. All I had to do was go up and over the bridge, make a turn, and head into the finisher chute.
The announcer at the athlete briefings had said 12:40 would be the cutoff. It was just past 12:20 AM. As I headed in, I looked for Wifey. Then, as I approached the chute, I saw her.
Her: "Speed up, the cutoff is 12:30 AM!"
Me: "No, it's 12:40, I'm fine!"
Her: "Are you sure?"
Me: "Yep!"
The bad news: we were both wrong.
The good news: I still made cutoff!
(They implemented a flexible cutoff, but they were trying to account for the advantage that athletes would have received from the easy swim. They had said 12:40, then suggested giving all athletes 14:40 total to finish. They settled on 14:50. All athletes who finished with times over 14:50 were DNFd, which just means they didn't accrue official points for Ironman-related programs. I beat it, but just within 5 minutes.)
As I crossed the finish line, the announcer looked at me, called my name--and he didn't butcher my last name, as most people do--and yelled, "YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!"
It was anticlimactic. My feeling was more along the lines of, "Mission Accomplished!" Wifey and I enjoyed the moment--Abigail was at the home of some friends and was sleeping--and headed out so we could get to bed.
Here is the file for my run performance.
In retrospect...
I ran the race I trained for. I figured the bike course would be hot and humid, and I had many long rides in hot, humid, crappy conditions. I was ready for that race.
And even though I had no long runs greater than 18 miles--and none of them with hills like North Shore--I trained in hot weather, and simulated running with tired legs. I kept a smart strategy of walking the uphills and capitalizing on the downhills, and it worked.
My final time was close to the cutoff, only because running is my weakest area due to my back, hip, and knee issues.
My mission was to get a decent bike performance that left me enough time to do a run within my physical limits. I did exactly that.
But there was something that stuck out from the race...
In the run, I was tempted many times to walk the flats on the second loop and instead chose to jog them.
Had I walked them, I would have been DNFd.
I believe that temptation to walk was Ms. Bravo trying to lure me into a backstabbing. And the conscious need to jog when I could, that was God yelling from the corner and warning me of the trick play.
Sure, there was no swim, and for that reason I feel like I still may have to attempt another race at that distance.
Still, after talking to several finishers who had multiple Ironmans under their belts, the word out was that, even without the swim, this was harder than most Ironmans.
I believe it.
Had this been Louisville, the bike course would have been slightly harder--but 4 miles shorter--but the run would have been a joke, as it is all flat. Where the Chattanooga run course took me 7 hours, I would have cleared the Louisville course in under 6. And the Louisville swim course, while tougher than Chattanooga, is still pretty easy.
As I process everything I went through to get to this point, I am pondering whether to sign up for another Ironman, just to get in all three disciplines.
My heart says, "Yes, this would be fun! I was ready, I can do this again!" And I must admit, flipping off Ms. Bravo was kind of fun.
On the other hand, my hips, back, and knees are screaming at me, telling me, "Why do you hate us so much???"
In addition, the risk of weather-related cancellations is always there: last year, I had a half-Iron triathlon cancelled due to storms. This year, Ironman North Carolina was cancelled due to hurricane damage in Wilmington.
Even though athletes were allowed to defer to another date, how would you like it if you trained for a big race, only to end up deferring to an "alternate" race in 6 months due to a storm-related cancellation? And a full-Ironman can run about a thousand dollars.
Ultimately, this was an official finish, and it was my best ultra-endurance performance.
And I won my rematch with Ms. Bravo.
*DNF: Did Not Finish. It denotes someone who either (a) started the race and, due to a number of factors, did not finish, or (b) those who finished but missed an official cutoff time. Ironman events typically have stingy cutoff times. That's part of the Ironman lore.
Wednesday, October 3, 2018
Sunday, July 22, 2018
Doing RAIN in the Rain: After-Action Report, Ride Across Indiana
Going into this year, I had two bucket-list items I wanted to tackle: Ride Across Indiana (RAIN) and an Iron-distance triathlon. I had hoped to do those last year, but life got in the way--good, but challenging events--and I had to pass on those. Instead, I settled for the Kentucky Century Challenge and a smaller triathlon.
I enjoyed those rides, which included the Bourbon and Bluegrass Ride--arguably the best century ride in Kentucky last year. But this year, I decided to tackle RAIN and Ironman Chattanooga (IMCHOO). My plan was to use RAIN as a training ride for IMCHOO.
RAIN is exactly what the name describes: a ride across the width of Indiana. They bill it as "one day, one way, 160 miles". The course is mostly flat, but it does have some significant climbs--long but not really steep--to keep you honest. While I'm an experienced century (100+ mile) rider, I'd never taken my bike longer than 115 miles on one day. And at IMCHOO, the bike distance is going to be 116 miles. I looked at RAIN as a means to get myself mentally prepared for the long grind of the bike course of IMCHOO.
Going into RAIN, my plan was simple: aim for the same RPE (rate of perceived exertion) that I plan to aim for the bike portion of IMCHOO. I figured if I felt good at the Greenfield rest stop (almost mile 115), I will be in a good place as my final ten weeks to IMCHOO commences.
The week of the ride had me concerned about the weather outlook: all week, the indicators were for thunderstorms on race day. I wasn't worried about rain--I've biked in conditions that included both rain and cold temperatures--but I'm no longer fast enough to dodge lightning. My hope was for the rain the be light to moderate.
I hoped to finish RAIN inside 12 hours: I was giving myself room for rain delays and even a bonk on the last portion of the ride.
In a nutshell, I was pleasantly surprised.
The temperature at the start of the race was probably in the low to mid-60s. Very comfortable. Skies were overcast with the forecast calling for sporadic rain.
The first rest stop was at mile 40, so I had the following: water in my Speedfil hydration bottle, Gatorade in my secondary bottle, and pancake syrup for my emergency carbohydrates for late in the race.
It was so comfortable that, for that 40-mile stretch, I never went to the Gatorade. Coming into the first rest stop, I was wet from the rain but otherwise comfortable. Timewise, I was killing it by my standards, averaging just north of 17 mph. I felt VERY good, almost like I was barely working.
The line at the rest stop was long, but--after a little delay--I snuggled with my baby girl, chatted with my wife, filled up on carbs and topped off my water bottle and got moving.
The second rest stop was about 25 miles. Again, it felt effortless. There was rain, but that had a cooling effect and actually made the ride more enjoyable. The wind was light but at our backs.
At mile 60, with 100 miles to go, I joked with one of the riders: "I think I'm warmed up for my century ride now!"
Going into rest stop #2, I actually felt rested. I chatted with the wife, snuggled with my baby girl, filled my water bottle, got my carbs, and got moving.
The 29 miles between rest stops 2 and 3 also felt effortless. It was the best I'd ever felt at that stage of any century-distance ride. I noticed some chafing, but I wasn't tired. I hung out with the wife and baby, downed some lunch, topped off my water bottles, and got moving again. Next stop: Greenfield, IN.
The 29 miles into Greenfield were difficult, but only due to the Indianapolis traffic: we had several long red lights, a few stop signs at busy intersections, and one train delay at a railroad crossing. Those slowed me down by about 10-12 minutes. Otherwise, the stretch was good.
At Greenfield (Garmin had me at mile 113), I felt VERY good. For the most part, I felt like I had accomplished one of my goals for the day.
The rest of the ride was 47 miles of nice highway on US-40 going into Richmond, with a stop 19 miles in at Dunreith.
Just as I pulled into Dunreith, we got our hardest downpour of the day. But it was short-lived.
At Dunreith, I got some last-minute carbs just for insurance purposes. I also made sure to top off my water bottle and Gatorade bottle. Snuggled my baby, kissed my wife, promised her I'd take it easy on the slick roads. 28 more miles to the finish.
At that point, I wasn't so much tired as much as I was just wanting to be done. My worst problem was chafing, not fatigue. I felt like, if the race were 200 miles, I had enough in the tank to get that done.
That last 28 miles were really nice. That stretch of US-40 coming out of Greenfield was, on its own, worth the ride. We had an entire lane to ourselves, it was well-maintained, it was flat. (Well, except for the two final climbs.)
With 14 miles to go, I went to my emergency carbohydrates--my pancake syrup--for the first time. And I only did that as a precaution, as I knew there were a couple climbs at the end.
At mile 151, we had a long climb: not a steep climb, but a long one. I felt like hammering through it as hard as I could, but I stuck to my plan of sticking to my planned Ironman RPE.
At about mile 157, we had another climb: not as long as the one at 151, but enough to let us know how good the flats were. When that was over, I knew the finish was near.
Sure enough, as my Garmin indicated I was on the last mile, I saw the cones directing us to the finish at Earlham College.
I finished right at 5:30PM. My total time was 10 hours and 30 minutes, including the port-a-potty lines at the rest stops, the long red lights, the one railroad delay, and a few long delays at intersections.
According to my Garmin, my total moving time was 9 hours and 30 minutes. 16.8 mph average. And to my surprise, I was able to hold a 16+ pace well into the final stretch. My drop-off at the end was due to the two long climbs and some red lights. I did not bonk.
That was my fastest pace of ANY century ride. Even at the end, I was nailing solid split times, better than any of my training rides. Normally, my legs are gone at the end; not this time.
On the positive side:
(1) My preparation for IMCHOO appears to be going well. I now have 5 century+ distances for the season, and even in the off-weeks I'm getting solid bike-run combos in. My performance at RAIN was better than any of my previous rides--training, scheduled events, even the sub-100s.
I hit it out of the park.
(2) I was able to maintain my RPE throughout the ride. I expected to bonk, but it never happened.
(3) The weather was perfect. All of my prior training rides had been in hot and humid conditions with persistent headwinds. This time, I got good weather, and my body rewarded me.
Overall, the folks who worked RAIN put on a great event. The rest-stops were well-stocked, the course was well-marked, the police did a wonderful job of patrolling the tough intersections.
If you can do at least 80 miles of hilly riding, you can do RAIN. If you're an experienced century rider and want to expand your horizons to get some bragging rights, this is a ride for you.
If you want a long ride for a regular annual challenge, this is a ride for you.
This was my favorite long ride to date. I give it 5 stars.
I enjoyed those rides, which included the Bourbon and Bluegrass Ride--arguably the best century ride in Kentucky last year. But this year, I decided to tackle RAIN and Ironman Chattanooga (IMCHOO). My plan was to use RAIN as a training ride for IMCHOO.
RAIN is exactly what the name describes: a ride across the width of Indiana. They bill it as "one day, one way, 160 miles". The course is mostly flat, but it does have some significant climbs--long but not really steep--to keep you honest. While I'm an experienced century (100+ mile) rider, I'd never taken my bike longer than 115 miles on one day. And at IMCHOO, the bike distance is going to be 116 miles. I looked at RAIN as a means to get myself mentally prepared for the long grind of the bike course of IMCHOO.
Going into RAIN, my plan was simple: aim for the same RPE (rate of perceived exertion) that I plan to aim for the bike portion of IMCHOO. I figured if I felt good at the Greenfield rest stop (almost mile 115), I will be in a good place as my final ten weeks to IMCHOO commences.
The week of the ride had me concerned about the weather outlook: all week, the indicators were for thunderstorms on race day. I wasn't worried about rain--I've biked in conditions that included both rain and cold temperatures--but I'm no longer fast enough to dodge lightning. My hope was for the rain the be light to moderate.
I hoped to finish RAIN inside 12 hours: I was giving myself room for rain delays and even a bonk on the last portion of the ride.
In a nutshell, I was pleasantly surprised.
The temperature at the start of the race was probably in the low to mid-60s. Very comfortable. Skies were overcast with the forecast calling for sporadic rain.
The first rest stop was at mile 40, so I had the following: water in my Speedfil hydration bottle, Gatorade in my secondary bottle, and pancake syrup for my emergency carbohydrates for late in the race.
It was so comfortable that, for that 40-mile stretch, I never went to the Gatorade. Coming into the first rest stop, I was wet from the rain but otherwise comfortable. Timewise, I was killing it by my standards, averaging just north of 17 mph. I felt VERY good, almost like I was barely working.
The line at the rest stop was long, but--after a little delay--I snuggled with my baby girl, chatted with my wife, filled up on carbs and topped off my water bottle and got moving.
The second rest stop was about 25 miles. Again, it felt effortless. There was rain, but that had a cooling effect and actually made the ride more enjoyable. The wind was light but at our backs.
At mile 60, with 100 miles to go, I joked with one of the riders: "I think I'm warmed up for my century ride now!"
Going into rest stop #2, I actually felt rested. I chatted with the wife, snuggled with my baby girl, filled my water bottle, got my carbs, and got moving.
The 29 miles between rest stops 2 and 3 also felt effortless. It was the best I'd ever felt at that stage of any century-distance ride. I noticed some chafing, but I wasn't tired. I hung out with the wife and baby, downed some lunch, topped off my water bottles, and got moving again. Next stop: Greenfield, IN.
The 29 miles into Greenfield were difficult, but only due to the Indianapolis traffic: we had several long red lights, a few stop signs at busy intersections, and one train delay at a railroad crossing. Those slowed me down by about 10-12 minutes. Otherwise, the stretch was good.
At Greenfield (Garmin had me at mile 113), I felt VERY good. For the most part, I felt like I had accomplished one of my goals for the day.
The rest of the ride was 47 miles of nice highway on US-40 going into Richmond, with a stop 19 miles in at Dunreith.
Just as I pulled into Dunreith, we got our hardest downpour of the day. But it was short-lived.
At Dunreith, I got some last-minute carbs just for insurance purposes. I also made sure to top off my water bottle and Gatorade bottle. Snuggled my baby, kissed my wife, promised her I'd take it easy on the slick roads. 28 more miles to the finish.
At that point, I wasn't so much tired as much as I was just wanting to be done. My worst problem was chafing, not fatigue. I felt like, if the race were 200 miles, I had enough in the tank to get that done.
That last 28 miles were really nice. That stretch of US-40 coming out of Greenfield was, on its own, worth the ride. We had an entire lane to ourselves, it was well-maintained, it was flat. (Well, except for the two final climbs.)
With 14 miles to go, I went to my emergency carbohydrates--my pancake syrup--for the first time. And I only did that as a precaution, as I knew there were a couple climbs at the end.
At mile 151, we had a long climb: not a steep climb, but a long one. I felt like hammering through it as hard as I could, but I stuck to my plan of sticking to my planned Ironman RPE.
At about mile 157, we had another climb: not as long as the one at 151, but enough to let us know how good the flats were. When that was over, I knew the finish was near.
Sure enough, as my Garmin indicated I was on the last mile, I saw the cones directing us to the finish at Earlham College.
I finished right at 5:30PM. My total time was 10 hours and 30 minutes, including the port-a-potty lines at the rest stops, the long red lights, the one railroad delay, and a few long delays at intersections.
According to my Garmin, my total moving time was 9 hours and 30 minutes. 16.8 mph average. And to my surprise, I was able to hold a 16+ pace well into the final stretch. My drop-off at the end was due to the two long climbs and some red lights. I did not bonk.
That was my fastest pace of ANY century ride. Even at the end, I was nailing solid split times, better than any of my training rides. Normally, my legs are gone at the end; not this time.
On the positive side:
(1) My preparation for IMCHOO appears to be going well. I now have 5 century+ distances for the season, and even in the off-weeks I'm getting solid bike-run combos in. My performance at RAIN was better than any of my previous rides--training, scheduled events, even the sub-100s.
I hit it out of the park.
(2) I was able to maintain my RPE throughout the ride. I expected to bonk, but it never happened.
(3) The weather was perfect. All of my prior training rides had been in hot and humid conditions with persistent headwinds. This time, I got good weather, and my body rewarded me.
Overall, the folks who worked RAIN put on a great event. The rest-stops were well-stocked, the course was well-marked, the police did a wonderful job of patrolling the tough intersections.
If you can do at least 80 miles of hilly riding, you can do RAIN. If you're an experienced century rider and want to expand your horizons to get some bragging rights, this is a ride for you.
If you want a long ride for a regular annual challenge, this is a ride for you.
This was my favorite long ride to date. I give it 5 stars.
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