I am an Ironman!

My wife and I, and several friends, just completed our first Ironman in Louisville Kentucky. It was one of the most memorable experiences of my life. I thought I would share the experience with you. This is a long write up, but an enjoyable one. If you are thinking about doing and Ironman, you should definitely read it. I will also prove to you that pizza is not only the miracle food, it can be prescribed by a doctor.

Pain Cave - It’s that place you go where you are enveloped by a complete and raw brand of pain. You reach it after feeling the searing inside of you and then ignoring it. You reach it when every voice inside of you has screamed for you to stop and you have silenced them all. The quiet of the pain cave is eerie and horrific. It’s still but not calming. It’s excruciating and peaceful all at once. It’s simultaneously transcendent and brutally immediate. The agony is almost tangible. It is the best and the worst feeling. It is hugely rewarding and ridiculously satisfying. It is where you find your true self and find out what you are capable of mentally and physically.

The Ironman is as much mental as it is physical. You need to be in the right mental state days before the event. My wife, Rebecca, and I decided to head to Kentucky the Wednesday before the race. We wanted to be as relaxed as possible and and get everything out the way early. The earliest check in for the race was on Thursday morning. We had a good breakfast and headed over to the race headquarters. I would get my first mental blow much earlier than expected.

I spent most of 2008 concentrating on weight loss. I joined the Baptist Health weight loss program and lost 40 lbs. I still have another 20 to go, but we decided to do an Ironman, so I had to concentrate on training. You have to eat to train.

When I started the program, I was 221 lbs and finished at 181. I got off the program in October of that year. I made through the holidays to the beginning of the training season, March, with only a 4 lb gain. I felt good at 185 and looked forward to a good Triathlon season.

Four months into to the Ironman training plan, I had gained 5 lbs. This was not catastrophic, but did not help my mental state. I decided to put the scales in the closet and only concentrate on the training and getting enough fuel to train and recovery. As time went on, I could tell I getting heavier. I would drop the calories a bit, and have trouble completing the long workouts. I had no choice but get the calories higher. After all, the goal was to complete the event, no lose weight.

Rumor had it you would be weighed at check in. I so hoped this was a rumor. We arrived at check in and got into the first line of the day. As expected, it was a line to be weighed. I could already feel the disappointment I was about to handed. I stepped on the scale and watched the numbers increase. The number stopped at 198.4 lbs. I had gained over 18 lbs. I was devastated. I wanted to cancel the race and just go home. It was a good thing we arrived four days early. It took me two days to get that out of my mind. I had my first mental challenge out of the way.

Race morning started at 2 Am for me. Transition didn't open until 5, but I like to get up early enough so I don't feel rushed. I knocked back a couple cups of coffee and some breakfast. I sat around quietly waiting for the others in the room to awake. I had plenty of time to think about the task at hand. Strangely enough, I was not a bit nervous. I have to admit, it was a bit surreal. I had heard about the crazy people that did this Ironman stuff. I never thought I would be one of them.

The Swim was a time trial start. As you can image, a line of 2500 people stretches for a long way. We were a bit past halfway in the line. The Pro athletes were to go off at 6:50 with the age groupers following at 7:00. Around 6:40, the line started moving. Everyone started to stand up and condense the line. Suddenly, we heard a Boom. The canon went off that signaled the start of the Pro race. I started to get really excited. I thought Rebecca was going to vomit.

Going through the crowds of spectators looked like the TT up Alpe d'Huez at the Tour de France. It was incredible! People were lining the long winding sidewalks that lead to the dock. They were so close that people were touching both of my shoulders as I ran through them. Every person you passed was screaming at you with words of encouragement. The energy was absolutely incredible. I felt like a celebrity. It was one the best feelings in the world.

Rebecca was behind me as we jumped off the dock into the water. I jumped to the left and she jumped to the right. I have a bit more mass, so I sunk a bit further into the water. As my head made it to the top for a breath, I felt a big jolt in my back. The guy behind me had jumped on me. I quickly turned to see if the same thing had happened to Rebecca, she was moving right along. I start weaving my way in a out of traffic down the river. I spot David doing his side stroke. I go around David and have a collision with someone to my right. I catch my breath and look over at them, it is Rebecca. We both get a good laugh and get on with our race.

The first 1/3 of the swim was up river. It was through a cove type area, so there was not much of a current against us. I am swimming along without a care in the world. The water temperature suddenly feels like it went from 84 to 94 degrees. Ah, this must be a shallow section. I continue to swim and notice a figure to my right towering above me and yelling at me. I stop, to find out we can stand up. We are nearly in the middle of the Ohio River and we can stand up. I quickly decide walking is not a good idea. There could be all kinds of sharp objects on the sandy bottom.

I make it to the turn around and begin the last 2/3 thirds of the swim. I look at my watch to see I swam the first third in 32 minutes. That just about right on pace. My estimated time was 1:30. I should have a bit of a current this direction so I should be able to speed up a bit. The second third of the swim was smooth. I got bumped around a bit, but nothing devastating. I checked my watch at the end of the second third. My time was 59 minutes. I was a bit faster and was now on track with my estimate.

As I continued on, I noticed the waves coming from the right were starting to get very choppy and high. I am strong swimmer, not fast, but strong. Waves normally don't bother me, but I was starting to have some issues, I became very nauseous. I stopped to tread water and get my bearings. I starting swimming again, and had the same sensation. OK, this is something new. What do you do if you have to vomit while swimming in the Ohio River with 2500 other people? I tried to block it out of my head and continue. I ended up stopping and treading water four or five times in the last third of the swim. I exited the swim with a total time of 1:48. Wow, that was 28 minutes slower than I had planned. I went from 27 minutes on the second third of the swim to 49 minutes on the last third. I did not plan to swim fast, but this swim time was really slow and depressed me a bit. I told myself to shake it off and move on to the next task. Mental challenge number two out of the way.

The bike is my bread and butter. This whole exercise thing started with the bike. I was finally in my comfort zone and ready to roll. Someone ask me about my bike plan. I told them my bike ride could be described as a rolling picnic. I had two goals, ride with energy saving in mind and eat as much as possible. That sounds simple enough, but has a some challenges.

I am very competitive when it comes to the bike. My biggest challenge on the bike would be not getting caught up in other peoples race and ride my ride. I have a tendency to go when someone passes me on the bike. My coach and I had several conversations about this issue. I am not a good runner, so it was imperative I follow the plan and save it all for the run. As you would have guessed, I was tested right out the gate. No sooner had my wheels started spinning did someone blow past me. I just smiled and kept my pace. Mental challenge number three out of the way.

The first climb was only seven miles into the ride. We had trained on a very hilly route, so the hills didn't bother me. I hit the first hill and spun easily to stick with the plan. I noticed a guy, halfway up the hill, changing a flat. Man, that is some rotten luck. As I made my way closer, the guys yells out my name. Oh man, it was my good friend Michael. He had had some flat issues a few months back. I hoped this was a one flat deal for him.

The bike was very uneventful for me. I followed the plan and enjoyed the ride. I ate often and kept my effort below 70%. With a temp in the low 70's, I don't think I every broke a sweat. The only mental challenge of the bike was around mile eighty. I was so ready to get off my bike. i had to keep telling myself it was almost over. The last twenty miles were fast with a lot a downhill sections. I still had fresh legs, so I decided to stretch them a bit. I felt good to put a bit of pressure on them. I passed a lot of tired people in the last twenty miles. I rolled into T2 feeling good. I was not even the least bit tired. I may not speed through the run, but I made it through the bike without hurting my run chances. It was now time for the real event to start. Everything up to now was just the warm up.

I left T2 feeling good. I had tons of energy, fresh legs and no signs of cramping. Other than getting sea sick in the swim, my race had been going according to plan. I had nothing on my mind but moving forward. I tried not to think about the fact that I was not a good runner. When you are ten hours into an event, you don't need even the slightest doubt to enter your mind. I had convinced myself to block out that doubt and deal with the wall when I hit it. I was all business now. I was not sight seeing or enjoying the moment. I had my head down and was concentrating on keeping my pace and putting one foot in front of the other. I had seven and half hours of pain ahead of me to complete one of the hardest athletic events in the world.

The first six miles were normal. My legs felt good and energy levels were still high. I ran to each rest stop and walked long enough to take down fluids and food. Miles six through ten started to bring challenges. My legs were starting to become sore and stiff. They felt kind of like your legs feel the day after a good squat workout. I was starting to walk longer, beyond the rest stops. This was happening earlier than I expected. I had hoped to run the first thirteen miles before the extending walking started.

As I passed mile ten, I started to walk even more. I had a hard time convincing myself to run a quarter of a mile between walking. My legs were becoming more sore by the moment. I could feel the lactic acid building up. Between mile eleven and twelve, I had convinced myself I was not going to make it. My legs were just not moving forward. I couldn't run more than twenty yards at a time. Those short runs would make up seconds but cost me minutes over the next half mile. I looked at my watch over and over. I did the calculations over and over. I didn't have enough time. I was going to fail. I was sick to my stomach, embarrassed and depressed. Right about that time my wife came running from the other direction. She had passed me earlier and was about four miles ahead of me now. I told her I was not going to make it, I didn't have enough time. I could see the panic on her face. She assured me I could make it and did her best to encourage me. I gave her a smile and she drifted off into the distance. Well, at least she was going to finish. A few moment later, a good friend name Ed came up behind me. He stopped to walk with me. He was only a mile away from the finish for him and the turnaround for me. We discussed my situation. He really got into my head. We did the calculations and figured out I had time to finish, if I walked a very fast and steady pace. It would not be easy, but it could be done. He convinced me to run a half mile with him. I watched him cross the finish line as I veered right to start my second loop. This was going to be the fight of my life.

I turned the corner to start mile fourteen. I had four hours to walk 12.2 miles. I had figured out, in training, I could comfortably walk twenty minute miles. With the time I had left, that would not be enough. I needed to walk below eighteen minute miles. This would give me a bit of a buffer in case I slowed the last couple of miles. My legs were getting worse. That would affect my pace greatly.

Mile fifteen was the self talk. This is where you dig deep and decide to quit or finish. The self talk happens at different times for different people. The decision to go quit or finish is not as simple as it would sound. Everyone wants to finish, but deciding to finish is not enough. Making the decision to finish was just the first step. You have to commit yourself to the pain that lies ahead of you. The worst part is yet to come. You have to be prepared to bury your head in the pain cave and come out the other side.

The next eleven miles would be deep into the pain cave. There would be moments I would want to quit. You have to block out the pain and use whatever memory or motivation possible to keep you moving forward. Just as I was about to bury my head and enter the zone, I saw my lovely wife running at me. She was only a few miles from the finish, but didn't look very happy. She ran over to me and looked like she was about to cry. She was horrified at the thought that I may quit. She was overjoyed to see me still on the course and gutting it out. She reassured me that I could finish and that she would be at the finish line waiting on me. She couldn't have come along at a better time. Her strength would be a big piece of the motivation I would use to get me through these last hours.

The miles would go by and the pain in my legs would grow worse. It was becoming more difficult to walk by the moment. I just wanted to sit down for a moment, take the weight off my legs and stretch a bit. I knew if I took a seat, only for a moment, that might be it. I might not have the strength or the ability to stand up. That would also take up valuable time. I couldn't spare a second, much less minutes.

I watched my pace anxiously. I thought my GPS was wrong, so I added the time to the display. The time verified my pace was seventeen twenty-five per mile. This was awesome news. This was well below the eighteen minute mile minimum I needed. This was the big accomplishment I needed to continue moving forward. I felt renewed, refreshed and even a bit confident. Just as I looked up with a smile, people started yelling congratulations to me. Wait, I still had three miles to go. I looked at my watch and did the calculations. At this pace, I would finish with thirty minutes to spare.

Some people become emotional when they cross the finish line, my moment was a quarter of mile from the finish. I turned the corner and could hear the people yelling at the finish line. The reality of finishing was hitting me. The past few hours had seemed liked agonizing days. I felt so many emotions throughout this day, mostly on the run. I found enough energy to run the last hundred yards to the finish. The bright lights and the screaming crowds were almost overwhelming. I crossed the finish line with an exhausted smile. I grabbed my finishers metal and had my picture taken. As promised, my wife was standing there to greet me.

I decided go to the medical tent. I had starting cramping in several places. I had a history of cramping after a big event and had no desire to spend the next few hours in more pain. We arrived at the medical tent and checked in. Some really nice ladies took me to a cot and allowed me to lay down. Oh, the wonderful feeling of laying down. Just when I thought I was in heaven, the nice lady said something I could only have dreamed about. She ask if I wanted her to remove my socks and shoes. I thought I was going to cry. It felt so good to get those shoes off.

The doctor arrived and ask me some questions. After a couple of minutes he ask me to lay back down. I was expecting an IV full of fluids, but got something even better. The doctor handed me two large slices of pizza. He told me to eat those and hang out for a few minutes. I instantly felt better. The doctor even went as far as to tell me to eat more salty foods before an event. There you have it folks, pizza can be used as a medicine!