2005 Ironman Lake Placid Race Report

First of all, I want to thank those of you who emailed me well wishes about the race. I thought it would be more efficient to send out this race report and then answer any individual questions after you have a chance to read it. For those of you doing or contemplating doing an Ironman, I hope that you learn a thing or two from my experience so please read and take heed.

"My eyes were bigger than my stomach." Have you ever had that full, bloated feeling after heaping your plate full of food at the buffet...just to sit down, start eating and realize you can't possibly finish? It usually happens at Thanksgiving dinner for me. After getting up from the table, you sit on the couch to watch a football game with that overly full, slightly miserable feeling as you think to yourself, "why did I eat so much, so fast?

Well, this is how I felt after about 40 miles on the bike at Ironman Lake Placid this past weekend where I stuggled to my slowest ever IM finish, 10 hrs 50 min 10 sec. I was thinking... "Why did I go out so fast, so soon?" Let's just say that my 'racing' was over at that point and the rest of the day was spent managing horrible cramping and simply surviving to the finish line as quitting was not an option. After careful post-race analysis, I offer you the following insights into my experience so that hopefully, you can avoid a similar fate.

The underlying message of this tale is, "Don't attempt to race the Ironman at a level above your current fitness."

The Start

IM race morning started on an interesting note that probably set the tone for the rest of the day. Upon arriving to the transition area to top off my brand new Conti GP 3000 sew-ups on my brand new Zipp 808 front wheel, I noticed that the front tire was almost completely flat while the back was still fully inflated. Having a slow leak in your tire during an Ironman is a bad idea so I made the decision to try and borrow another front wheel, as reglueing another tubular was out of the question. Fortunately, I saw Cid Cardoso Sr., owner of Inside Out Sports (official bike shop sponsor of Ironman), and he had a spare zipp 404 to lend me. Incidentally, I coached Cid, Sr., his wife Lena and their daughter, Sylvia, several years ago. They are super nice people and Inside Out Sports does a great job.

My feathers were ruffled a little bit but not too much since adversity is part of the game when it comes to Ironman racing. There are so many 'moving parts' to having a successful race and a million things can go wrong (and often do.). I made it to the swim start and felt pretty good and confident about things. My fitness was better than it was for IM AZ by 10-20% and I figured this was going to be a really solid day. Let the games begin!

BOOM!.. the gun goes off and 2000 type-A personality triathletes start swimming towards the first buoy, vying for position to get near that little yellow string about 5 ft. under the water, marking the swim course. I was positioned near the front and in the middle so I was in the middle of the 'storm' and not enjoying it very much. After a rough 500 meters or so, I could start to get into a rhythm with my stroke and starting settling into what I considered a sustainable effort. I had found my way over that yellow string and was determined not to get knocked away from it!

Towards the end of the second loop, I was feeling pretty good...much better than at IM AZ. I had not done much more swimming since IM AZ, using my Vasa Ergometer instead a couple days per week, but I felt solid and not 'wasted' like at AZ. I exited the water in.... GEEZ!... 57:56. Now, the IM Lake Placid swim has the reputation as being the fastest IM swim on the planet but I was still pretty happy considering my lack of pool time. The day was starting well ahead of projections and I was feeling confident and strong!

The Bike

My transition was a little long (5 minutes) due to taking time to throw on a cycling jersey over my tri-suit (to avoid the early morning chill) and put on socks. Neither an easy task with a wet body. I headed out on the bike and was really confident about my cycling. I had done a 5:03 bike split on this same course in the year 2000 and even though I knew I was not that fit, I knew a good split was possible.

I started riding comfortably hard from the start, passing lots of people and at miles 5-10 , I started recognizing some of the athletes I was passing. Not to mention any names here, but some of these guys are top AG Ironman athletes and a few finished in the top 10 overall this year. I say this because I used to be able to beat these guys 'back in the day' by sizable margins. When I caught them and passed them, I started to feel the competitive juices flowing and thought for a moment how I might have my old "9-hour" form back. Little did I realize at the time that my legs were "writing checks that my body ultimately could not cash!".

I continued to feel really good and strong heading from Keene to Jay, a rolling flatter section of the course, as I put the hammer down and pushed the pace, dropping most of my 'rivals'. I started focusing more on drinking at this time too...perhaps a little too late. The rollers from Jay to the Hazelton out and back were solid and I felt good as I did to the Hazelton out and back. I'd been joined at this time by an eventual top 5-overall finisher who I'd raced for years and beat 9 times out of 10 so I knew I was in good position. Or so I thought.

On the long steady climb from Wilmington back to Placid, I started to feel a little tired in the legs and started to feel the twinges in the quads. It was starting to get hot out too. I thought to myself, "No way can this be happening again! (referring to my IM AZ experience) I'd started drinking more aggressively a few miles back but it may have been too late.

I decided I'd better slow down and start crisis management. Damn! I started to get a little depressed in the realization that my 'racing' had suddenly turned into a 'recovery management effort' to try and feel strong again. This has actually worked for me in the past. I remember in Kona back in 1992, I had totally blown up on the bike, only to come back and run a 3:04 marathon. I kept my wits, started drinking more, soft pedaling and hoping for the best.

Once through the first loop, my time was 2:33 on the bike and I was still in good position although the quad twinges became more frequent and pronounced. Placid is a brutal course on which you can't hide. Any difficulties are magnified 10times. And the cramps started hitting as I headed out on the second loop.

Now, I am a veteran of 15 IM's, including 7 IMH awaii's and I am well aware of what suffering is all about. And I knew that at this point in time that I was in for a long long long day of it!

Once the cramping started, they did not stop. I'd get into a rhythm and down on the aerobars for 5 minutes then...BAMM! Cramps! I'd stand up to straighten the leg and stop pedaling. Then, when it subsided a little, I'd start pedaling slowly again while standing (burning more energy), sit down and the cycle would repeat itself. I was drinking as much as I could as well as taking my lava salt tabs too, trying to manage this melt-down.

The cramps became more severe and spread from my left inner quad to my right inner quad and eventually, the entire quad. The final climb into town was monstrous and I limped it in with a 2:54 second loop and a 5:28:17 split...a ways off from my IM bike PR of 4:39. :)

T2 Into The Run

The transition from the bike to the run was another first for me. As I stopped the bike and started to dismount, I cramped in both legs, forcing me to stand there grimacing in pain in front of the dozens of spectators. I couldn't walk and had to hold onto the bike to keep from falling down. After what seemed to be an eternity, the cramps subsided and I started walking gingerly to my transition bag and to the tent, to the amusement of the crowd who clapped after my episode was over. Uh, embarrassing but kind of funny at the same time.

Once in the changing tent, I sat down...which turned out to be a bad idea. The bent legs started cramping in the hamstring as I bent down to put my shoes on. An ART therapist was in there and was massaging my one leg as a volunteer put my shoe on the other foot. Ha! I was in a world of trouble now and I knew it but the show must go on...even if it takes until midnight!

After 5 minutes in the transition area, I hobbled out and started on the run at a very slow pace. I took baby steps, trying to 'will' the cramps away for awhile. I knew they were inevitable now and I was in serious crisis mode, going from 'crisis management' to 'survival mode'. The goal now was to finish without getting so sick that medical would have to yank me off the course.

I took baby steps for the first 5 miles without a serious episode of cramping but I could feel it was looming. I drank voraciously at every aid station and took my lava salt tabs to try and minimize the damage that had already been created by my dehydrated state on the bike. "One foot in front of the other", was my mantra. Strangely though, I was still in the top 30 overall at this time and couldn't help to think...." If only....".

Then, it started to happen, as I knew it eventually would. At about mile 6, despite my best efforts to hold them off, the cramps started to hit ...hard! First it was my left leg, inner thigh. I'd have to stop my slow shuffle, stand there, straighten the leg out, rub it, walk a few steps and then try and resume the shuffle again. This pattern continued for the next 20 miles but things got more severe as the miles dragged on.

Coming back into town on the first loop was tough. I had visions of DNF'ing as my 'race' was over but since I had DNF'd from this race back in 2000 (long story here) and I now race for reasons other than just winning these days, I kept going as I had unfinished business. Pride and self-respect are powerful motivators! I 'limped' through the first loop in 1:43 / 7:53 mile.

During the run, one of the announcers must do spinervals because he made a comment as I was visibly in pain, struggling along...he said, "Hey Coach Troy...it looks like YOU'RE suffering NOW! Have Mercy!!". I had to laugh, even though it hurt.

The second loop was a true test of 'mental toughness' (sounds like a good title for a spinervals!) for me. The cramps were now hitting me almost every minute, forcing me to walk more than run. They were also spreading to my calves so if I extended my foot, i'd start to cramp. I kept drinking as much as I could at aid stations. I also would take orange slices at the stations and sprinkle table salt on them, hoping to rebalance my electrolytes. I kept pushing on as best I could knowing the faster I finished, the sooner the suffering would be over.

The other athletes on the course and spectators were really supportive. Lots of people, when witnessing one of my severe cramping episodes, offered well-wishes and advice. That was nice but I was too far gone at this time to benefit from any of it. One foot in front of the other.

Heading back into town and up the hill at around mile 22, I started to experience new and unlpleasant things...namely, cramping in my ankles and biceps!! My ankles would cramp and twist inward, forcing me to stand on the outside of my feet momentarily. If I bent my arms beyond 45 deg., my biceps would start to cramp! Now, picture me slogging along with nearly straight arms and almost stiff legs with my ankles unable to flex...not a pretty site. :) At the time, I was really hurting but I did manage to laugh at how ridiculous I must have looked. Very humbling.

Once back on Main Street, you head up the hill and make a right to run to the out-and-back along the lakeside. Lots of spectators line this area to see the carnage...er, I mean , cheer for their athletes, so there's lots of energy. As I hobbled up the hill in my deteroriating state with only less than 2-miles to go...the KING of all cramps hit me in both my hamstrings simultaneously. Now, I must admit that I have NEVER experience pain like this before from a cramp (and I've had LOTs of them now) but it was so painful and severe, I felt as if the muscle was about to ball up and rip off the bone. The spectators in the area started to rush out to help me and call for medical but I said no. I knew it would go away, I just wasn't sure when. At this point, I knew my attempt to shuffle was over and I'd have to walk carefully the rest of the way if I wanted to avoid another excruciating incident like that.

I walked the last mile or so at a slow pace, likely a 20 minute mile, all the way to the finish line. Brook and Hope (my wife and daughter) saw me at the outside of the stadium and I gave them a kiss and a hug before entering the oval. I wanted to run that last 200 meters to the finish but there was no way...I think I was lucky to still be standing.

My second half of the marathon was at a 2:30 pace / 11:29 mile

It was a brutal day in which I'm proud to have finished. The End

Analysis

Every athlete needs to learn from their experience and analyze what went right and what went wrong. As a coach, I have the opportunity and obligation to share this information with you so here it goes....

Swim: No complaints here. I was happy as a flea on a big dog with my swim split. Don't neglect your swim like I do however....train for the distance. You'll use less energy and be better off later in the race.

Bike: Ok, this is where I made my big mistake(s). As you know, I always say 'the bike sets up the run' and 'treat the first hour as a warm up' and 'leave your ego at home'. My problem was that I am still adjusting to the fact that I'm no longer training at the level of a 9-hour Ironman due to family, life, focus, time, work...you know the drill. I got caught up in the heat of the competition and had flash backs of my fast days when I had the endurance to sustain world class pacing...letting it get the best of me. Simply stated, I raced over my head early in the race and it came back to destroy me. I might have been able to get away with this at a shorter distance race like a half IM or Olympic Distance race, but you can't 'fake it' at the Ironman distance. You'll pay for indescretions at one time or another!

Also, my hydration plan was a little off the mark. I believe I should have started drinking earlier in the bike and perhaps more often, as it was a hot day. I calculated that I drank 8, 24 fl oz bottles of Gatorade on the bike and 6, 24 fluid oz bottle of water, along with 6-Lava salt tabs, 2 powerbars and 5 hammergels. I didn't have to pee until I got of the bike...a sign that dehydration was setting in as you need to drink enough to pee at least once or twice on the bike.

The Run: Well...I wouldn't call it a run actually. It was more like a limp, cramp, shuffle, walk, cramp...repeat. :) As I mentioned earlier, 'the bike sets up your run' so learn from my mistake and make sure you take good care of yourself on the bike! My run was doomed near the start of the second loop on the bike. 'Nuff said here.

Overall

Overall it was a really humbling experience but one that I am grateful to have. A 'PW' (personal worst) is never a good thing but it is part of the process of learning and growing. It also gives me a new perspective on Ironman racing as I've never experienced such a severe meltdown in the past. This only serves to give me more empathy as a coach, understanding the sport from a level other than as an elite, as I used to be. In this respect, I now have the tools to offer more to my athletes.

Although my ego is a bit wounded and I'm sore and tired, my pride and self respect are intact and at 100% because I kept pushing to my limits and never quit. I kept repeating to myself, "Pain is temporary but pride lasts forever!".

Live the Iron Life,
Coach Troy

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