Judgment Day: Texas Style

May 21st, 2011 would be an important day for a lot of people for different reasons.  For me, it was the day I would subject myself to the test of Ironman Texas, my first attempt at the 140.6 mile distance.  I've known about this race ever since it was just a rumor and then when it was finally announced last June and registration opened, I signed up within minutes.  I didn't know what to expect, but I knew it was something special and the opportunity wasn't ever going to be any more perfect than this, so I had to take the challenge.  My training started in earnest in January and progressed through to early May.

Many fellow members of my triathlon club also signed up for the race.  Some of them were Ironman veterans and some of them would be first-timers just like me.  The upside of this was that there were many training opportunities with other athletes.  Having a true Ironman race right in your backyard with the opportunity to go out and ride the bike course anytime you want is an amazing advantage.  There were things I knew on race day that others would have to learn for themselves.  I knew where the hills were.  I knew there would be a headwind on the second half of the ride.  I knew where I could go hard and where I needed to hold back.

I have raced four 70.3 (or half Ironman) races and I suppose I just expected this would be twice, the distance, twice the work.  In fact, it was something completely different.  The Ironman experience started on Wednesday before the race when I drove up to the Woodlands on my lunch break to pick up my race packet and drop some cash in the Ironman Texas shop.  I know that official race gear can sell out quickly so I wanted to be sure to get my racing kit right away.  Packet pickup opened at 10AM and by the time I got there, there were already 100 people in line.  By the time the place opened up, there were probably another 200 people behind me.  Nonetheless, I got my packet, bought some gear, and chatted up some friends who were there for the same purpose.  Then it was back to work for me.  The race packet was something new as well.  Sure I got a colored swim cap and a need bag like every other race, but inside of it were five different event bags.  This is craziness!  I got a bag for morning clothes drop-off, one for bike gear, one for run gear, one for special needs on the bike, and one for special needs on the run.  I ended up making an Excel spreadsheet for what should go in one bag.  For future reference, that wasn't a bad idea at all

My friend and training partner Jeremy went up on Thursday with another friend Phil, who flew in from New York just for the event.  Jeremy already had an Ironman race under his belt and Phil had gone the distance a few times, so they were a bit more casual about the whole thing.  I was debating driving up Thursday night again for the race meeting, but decided against it at the last minute.  It is an hour drive without traffic and I didn't feel like trying to make the trip after a full day of work.  Instead I went to the gym and had a light swim and a light spin and then a big dinner.

Friday, the day before the race, was really when the whole weekend of festivities began for me.  I had taken the day off from work and I caught a ride with Jeremy and Phil up to the race site in the morning to check in our bikes and also to participate in the open swim on the race course.  There had been some debate as to whether wetsuits would be allowed on the swim.  Ironman says a race is wetsuit legal if the water temperature is under 76 degrees.  Wednesday's reading was 80 degrees.  Thursday's reading was 76.7 and we all expected a "miraculous" wetsuit-legal race was in the cards.  Nonetheless, just in case, I did the practice swim sans wetsuit and discovered that the water was actually very comfortable.  We drove home after and I packed up the rest of my gear and then Alida and I drove to the Woodlands again to stay for the weekend.

Alida's co-worker Vicky lives in an apartment right above the swim exit and probably 500 yards from the transition area.  It was an incredible location and she was very generous to give us her apartment for the weekend.  Not only did it save us a lot of money, it saved me a lot of stress and labor and for that I am grateful.  As you can see, it overlooked the end of the swim course and the transition area.  This also meant that on race morning, I would only have to walk downstairs and around the corner to get to where my bike was to pump up the tires and put in my water bottles.  It also meant we could skip the entire process of finding parking spots all weekend.  The swim course itself was in Lake Woodlands, which is little more than a large recreational retention pond for rain runoff.  That isn't to say it was a poor swim venue, but due to the fact we would be swimming 2.4 miles, the course designer got to be a little bit clever with the layout.  We started near a bridge on the north side of the lake and swam basically the entire length southward and then turned around and swam all the way back to the start, at which point, we turned right and swam down a narrow channel, which became a sidewalk-lined and concrete-walled narrow canal.  It made for a pretty neat ending to the swim with people barely ten feet away lining both sides of the canal cheering us on as we made our way to the swim exit.  I'll get back to that in a little bit.

Once Alida and I had settled into our home for the weekend, we kicked back and took it easy.  Alida had made a massive bucket of vegan chili with quinoa and rice.  It tasted great and wasn't too heavy.  I had several bowls as I lazed around on the couch contemplating the events of the next day.  Around 6:30, I decided to call it quits for the day and went to bed.  My plan was to get up at 3AM and have a big breakfast with several hours for it to digest before the race began.  This did not exactly go according to plan.  I did indeed to go bed at 6:30, but I just couldn't fall asleep.  There was too much on my mind.  7:00 rolled around, then 8 and the sun finally went down.  Still no sleep.  9:00 and then 10:00 and finally I got tired enough to go to sleep.

The alarm went off at 3:00 and I was instantly awake.  I suppose I might have been a little bit tired, but it didn't matter because there was no going back.  I was up for the day and that was that.  I had a bowl of cereal and went over the day's preparations in my mind.  I wondered if the race would be wetsuit-legal.  I went to the balcony and looked out over the moonlit glass-calm water of the canal.  I saw some staff kayaking up the canal towards me to get things ready for the swim start.  I leaned over the edge and called out "Are we wetsuit-legal today?"  The answer was "No!" and just like that, the decision was made.  The wetsuit would stay in the apartment.

As the sun came up and transition opened, I decided to go down and make my last-minute preparations for the bike.  I tore the trash bag off the handlebars.  I had put it there in case of rain that never came.  I went and untied the tight knots on my gear bags so they would be ready for quick access in transition.  I saw quite a few friends who were doing the same thing.  This was going to be a common theme for the day.  A race this huge with so many friends and people I knew would make the entire day a tiny bit more bearable.  We were all in this together and everyone wanted everyone else to have the best race they possibly could.  Either that or everyone knew I wasn't a threat to take anyone's Kona slot so they could afford to be friendly to me.

I went back to the apartment to pick up the rest of my race gear and kiss Alida goodbye.  She would be volunteering throughout the day and I figured I'd see her some time after the swim.  Beyond that, though, I was on my own.  I went back to transition and then made the long walk to body marking, which was at the swim start.  I walked over with Johnny Zapeda, who works at Tri on the Run in Houston and is a very strong triathlete with many Ironman races under his belt.  We both had hopes of a successful day.  Unfortunately, Johnny's day would end in tragedy with a broken femur a mere mile from the finish line.  We all hope for a speedy recovery for Johnny.

At the swim start, it was pure pandemonium. I managed to find body marking and cross paths with many friends. I ended up hanging out with Dave Shaw and the two of us decided we'd hang back at the swim start and let the madness go ahead of us since neither of us claim swimming as our strongest event. I had never swum 2.4 miles in a stretch without resting before. I knew I was capable of it, but without the benefit of the wetsuit, I was very apprehensive of the start. Ironman swim starts are well-known as insane slugfests and unlike other triathlons, everyone starts all at once. The gun goes off and it's a mad break of 2500 bodies down the lane and every man (and woman) for himself. This video gives you a pretty good idea of what a swim start is like.

 

As you can see, it's just pure unorchestrated chaos as the water churns all around you and a mass of thousands of arms and legs begin flailing and kicking.  As someone who competed in jiujitsu tournaments for six years, I can tell you this was the most chaotic experience I've ever had in my life.  You just have to will yourself to keep calm and look for whatever holes in the crowd you can find.  Fortunately, the race does thin itself out a little bit, but it took a good ten minutes before I could go more than a few strokes without bumping into someone or having someone try to swim up on top of me.  I had set a very loose goal of 90 minutes to complete the swim and my only strategy was to stay calm and get into a rhythm as best I could.  Luckily, I was able to do so fairly early on and while the swim did take a long time, it really wasn't any more taxing than the 70.3 swims I've done in the past.  Once I went out and back and made the turn into the canal, the course narrowed a lot.  By the time we got into the proper canal in the developed area, we were surrounded on all sides by spectators.  Out of curiosity, I felt for the bottom wondering how deep the canal was.  I found out it was only about four feet deep.  There was something comforting about knowing that if worst came to worst, I could stand up and walk it in.  I did not have to do so, though, and I swam all the way to the swim exit.  I popped out of the water in 1:32 and that was just fine by me.

I ran through bike gear bag pickup and found my wife waiting for me.  Looks like she found a place to help out easily enough.  I grabbed my bag and gave her a big hug and then I was off the the changing tent to get ready for my bike ride.  As I ran into the changing area, I plopped down next to another friend of mine, Arthur Langham, who I had forgotten was doing the race.  We exchanged words of encouragement as we dried off, put on shoes, helmets, applied sunscreen, and off we both went to the bike area.  I grabbed my bike, ran out to the mount line, jumped on, and off I went for my 112 mile adventure.

I felt really good heading out on the bike.  I was making good time and the bike course was very familiar territory, since I have ridden the entire course already and I had ridden the more hilly northern section a good half dozen times throughout the spring.  I knew I would get a tailwind on the way out and I'd have to fight that same wind on the way in.  I didn't care about my speed, but I did worry about keeping my heart rate below 135 beats per minute whenever possible.  I also resolved to coast all of the downhills.  I quickly realized a small mistake I had made.  While I had my bottle of Perpetuem carb drink in one bottle, I had completely forgotten to fill up my second larger bottle with water.  I didn't panic though because I knew there were water hand-ups every ten miles.  Sure enough, after ten miles, I grabbed a big water bottle from a volunteer and easily emptied it into my water reservoir and I was back in business.  I was enjoying the unlikely luck of dark cloudy skies all morning that gave us all a break from the brutal sun we expected on race day.

Riding north out of the Woodlands is much better when you have a lane of traffic closed for your own use.  It's not really my favorite part of the course, but the wind was at my back and I was feeling strong.  The miles went quickly.  When I finally crossed FM 105, I was in familiar territory and I really started to enjoy myself.  This part of the course took us up through the Sam Houston National Forest and much of it is on small empty roads lined by trees on both sides to thick, their canopies close up above you.  I only wish the entire course was in this stretch.  I believe I could ride it for hours and never get tired.  Alas, all good things must end, and the course shifted to open farmland and eventually turned west, and then south into the wind.  It was time to pay the piper for all the nice tailwind in the first half of the course.  There was nothing to do but put my head down and cut through it as best I could.

Once I crossed back over FM 105 and started heading into Magnolia, I knew there was less than a third of the course left, but I was getting sore and my legs were getting tired.  I found myself passing and getting passed by the same dozen or so people who shared my general pace.  It was here that the sun finally came out and things started to get tough.  This road was less familiar to me and it seemed to never end.  Every turn seemed to be into the wind and when we finally returned to the Woodlands, the final eight or nine miles of the bike course took far too long.  At last I made the final turn and it was back into the transition area.  Ironman races are great.  they take your bike for you and put it back in its spot so you can go off and worry about transitioning to the run.  What a long day and I still had a marathon to run!  I never watched my speed on the bike, but kept tabs on my heart rate instead.  I wanted to finish the bike in no longer than 6:30 and I came off in 6:25 so that was just fine by me.

I ran through T2 and got my run gear.  Off with the helmet, bike shorts, and shoes.  On with the running cap, Zoot shoes, and a fresh spray of sunscreen.  My socks were still dry so there was no reason to change them. I saw a few friends, high-fived one of the volunteers, and off I went to run a marathon.  The very thought still astounds me.

I knew I would have to keep my pace down to avoid burning out early on the run and my goal was to hold 11:25 per mile, which worked out to a five-hour marathon.  Off I went and within the first mile, it was pretty clear that I had no legs left and even holding 11:25 would be a challenge.  I decided to walk as much as I needed in order to get my legs back and keep my heart rate down.  As it turned out, my legs never really came back.  I could jog gently for a few minutes, but then I'd have to go back to walking.  The upside of this is that I really got to joke it up with all the volunteers and friends and fellow runners who came jogging by me.

While it's easier on the legs than running, it's pretty far from easy to walk a 26.2 mile marathon.  It also seems to take forever.  Never once did I ever question quitting, but damn if I didn't want to be out there anymore.  It was hot, humid, and my legs were getting very sore.  After I did some math in my head and realized that even walking it in, I'd beat the midnight cutoff by a healthy margin, I took my friend Jeremy's advice (before he thundered off to a 11:55 finish--Go Jeremy!) and just soaked it all in.  After all, this is what I had been training for and today was the day I would become an Ironman.

The run was a scenic triple-loop course through the Woodlands town park with much of the path along the same canal I started the day by swimming through.  There was an aid station roughly every mile, which was nice.  My nutritional cravings varied all over the place from water to salted potato chips to chicken broth to oranges.  It's a good thing I was walking, because it would have been bad news to have all of that sloshing in my stomach.  I guess everything worked out for the best.  By the time I was on my third loop, the sun was going down and I came upon a lady named Angelica who was also doing her first Ironman race.  I had been introduced to her that morning by another friend and we had seen several common friends along the way.  She and I helped each other stay motivated and excited and we finished the last five miles of the race together.  As an example of just how exhausted I was mentally and physically, there were times when people I know and see on a regular basis would cheer me on and I'd smile and recognize them, but I simply could not call their names to mind to thank them by name.  At one point I started laughing out loud at just how dumbfounded I had become by the situation.  I'm sure I looked like quite the insane giggling idiot.

Five miles became four and then three, then two, and finally there was only one mile left.  We were both exhausted and without much power left in our legs, but we agreed to trot in together along the victory lap of Woodlands Town Park and through the finish line.  Crowds packed the finisher's chute and we both worked to whip them up into as much noise as we could.  Finally, I heard what I had been waiting to hear all day as Mike Reilly, the voice of Ironman called me out by name to tell me I am an Ironman!  We crossed the finish line as "Running on Empty" played over the public address system.  How appropriate.  There was one last surprise for me this night.  My good friend Gordon had surprised me by driving up from Tomball and he yelled out to me as I came through the finisher's chute and caught my attention.  I ran over and gave him a high-five and it brought an even bigger smile to my face.

The words I had been waiting all day to hear...

My finishing time was 14:41:38.  I had hoped for a faster time, but I cannot say I am disappointed.  The whole experience was overwhelming and far beyond what I could have predicted.  I have a distinct memory during the marathon thinking "I'm glad I'm going to finish but this is a terrible idea.  Why would I ever want to do this again?", which means that of course three days later, I can only remember the good times and I've just signed up for the 2012 Ironman Texas on Saturday May 19th, 2012.

There were so many people who helped me along the way through my training and on the day of the race.  I could never remember and list them all, but if you're reading this, you know who you are and you should know that you helped me go the distance.  In fact, my father, my wife, and everyone else who volunteered as well as those who simply stood by on the sidelines and cheered and offered support throughout the day and night were heroes that day and should be recognized as such.  I found this video that pays a great tribute to the Ironman Texas volunteers and everything they do.

Special recognition needs to go to a few of my friends who had memorable races at Ironman Texas.

Brett Blankner, my former coach and my good friend, finished in 11:24.

Jeremy Webb, my training partner, finished in 11:55, beating his twelve hour goal.

Dave Shaw, another training partner, finished in 12:08 on a 4:14 marathon.  Wow!

Philip Lavoie, a friend who came down from New York, finished in 10:42

Trent Stephens, my wife's schoolmate, finished in 10:07 two weeks after finishing Ironman St. George in Utah.
Debra Castell, an online friend and my wife's co-worker, finished her 1st Ironman in 12:26.

I can't wait until 2012 :)