2012 Ironman Wisconsin Race Report

This is my race report of the 2012 Ironman Wisconsin race I did on Sunday 9 September 2012. For those who follow me on Google+, Twitter, or Facebook, you can skip directly to the race report here. Even if you do follow me there, you might choose to continue reading as there may be new stuff below.

Prolog

My journey started a year ago, on Monday 12 September 2011, when I signed-up on-line to do this event. At the time I wondered if I was crazy. In the intervening months I fell into a great training group, including folks who'd done Ironman events before. I was able to focus on my running, my weakest leg, and was really feeling good about where I was (on my 43rd birthday, I did a 21 mile run at a 7:45 average pace and felt great). Unfortunately, at the end of May, the shin splints I'd been battling for a couple of weeks turned out to be a fairly serious stress fracture. I spent the entire month of June in a boot cast and doing no training at all.

Even after the boot was off in the beginning of July, I really wasn't able to run. So, I focused on swimming and cycling with the hopes that cycling fitness and residual fitness from the previous 8 months would last into my Ironman event. I'd been running 150-160 miles per month, at least in the most recent ones. Between the months of July and August, combined, I only ran 60 miles. My longest run since mid-May was a "fresh" 12 miler and my longest brick (run after biking) was only 9 miles. I knew the run was going to be interesting.

Thankfully I'd been able to jump back into cycling. The Wisconsin course is well known for it's hills. RunTri did an interesting analysis to determine that Wisconsin was the 3rd hardest course (at the time), only behind St. George (no longer) and Kona, and that was primarily due to the bike course.

For those not too familiar with the event or the course, Ironman's Dave Erickson did several pre-race videos. Here are two shorte preview videos that are kind of nice.

I was hoping they'd show some more of the bike course, just to show the hills to those who haven't done this event, but I'll keep looking for other videos that show that.

Registration

I drove down to Madison on Friday morning, 7 September 2012, before the race.

Registration at the Monona Terrace was open the Thursday before and that Friday, so I needed to be there that afternoon, before 17:00, to get registered. There were plenty of signs  and friendly volunteers to guide me exactly where I needed to go. I have to admit that I was pretty excited. All around me were fit athletes and Ironman logos. I was here and this really was an Ironman event!

I had no troubles with checkin and the long lines moved quickly. I spent a little time browsing and shopping in the Ironman store they had setup in the "Village" where I bought a nice "name" t-shirt (with all 2,800 competitors names printed in the form of the "M-dot" logo on the back), some new 2XU compression socks, and a nice visor:

Add these to the awesome transition backpack they gave us and I was a pretty happy new Ironman camper!

I then hung-out at a Starbucks up the street from the Terrace and relaxed, catching up on some Google+ing, before the pre-race dinner and mandatory race briefing.

The famous Mike Reilly, the "Voice of Ironman," was the MC. He had the oldest male (73) and female (68), as well as the youngest male (18) and female (19) up on stage for a while, as well as a married couple who were doing the race together. A lot of what he said was funny, some of it moving, but mostly he just served as a glue between the various speakers and videos they had planned for us that night.

The race briefing was strict, but I'd been told it would be, so I wasn't too freaked out. When it was all done at about 21:00, I headed back to my in-laws to connect with the rest of my family and the sisters in-law, brother in-law, and nieces and nephews who came down that night.

Bike and Bag Checkin

Saturday morning I was up decently early so I could head back down to the Terrace to turn in my bike and  transition bags. I spent the morning going through the check lists I'd developed at home as I'd laid everything out and then wrote down what went into each of the various bags (transition and special needs) when I packed everything into my usual, single, transition bag.

I also needed to decide if I was going to sign up to do this race next year. I was mostly decided, after a nice heart to heart talk with my partner and family, that I would do it. However, when I got into the car for the short 15 minute drive down, I decided to hook my phone up to the car audio system and play some Pandora. I'd previously been listening to their "Alternative Endurance Training" station and the first song that came on was Young the Giant's "My Body."

This is a song I loved hearing when I was sweating away down in the basement on my trainer or lifting weights in the winter months. It always moved me and motivated me to keep pushing. I took that as a sign that I was supposed to sign-up for next year. I rocked out all the way into town, feeling good about my decision!

After parking I unloaded the bike and my two transition bags and walked across the street to the transition area. Turning in the bike was extremely easy, though the line was long enough that I was a bit worried I'd miss the deadline to sign-up for next year's event. Part of the hold-up was that they had about four chutes where people could enter and they had you pause at each one, holding your bike against a clear white background so they could photograph it from the (chainring) side. I'm guessing this was for their insurance purposes in case bikes were stolen or damaged overnight. They were pretty quick, though, and I had my bike racked before I knew it.

I then zipped down to sign-up for next year's event, which was again smooth and easy, then I headed up to position my transition bags. I wound up placing my T2 bag first:

I then walked down the hall and placed my T1 bag:

I'm not sure how other Ironman events do it, but for Madison we run into the convention center for each transition, down the green carpets (hopefully you remembered which of the seven or so columns you were in), grabbed your bag, and then headed into the central changing area. This is the sign that greeted athletes (at least on bag check-in day) outside the men's changing area:

Inside the room was full of plastic chairs with a table in the middle that eventually held cups and coolers of water:

With that task done, I headed back home for some lunch. My family, along with all of the extended family, had headed into town to do the zoo and other activities with all the kids (my two plus six of their cousins), so I had the house to myself for several hours. I decided to relax a bit.

The Night Before

That night was pretty low key. I think family was respecting that I might want to have a quiet, easy night and I really appreciate that. I went for an easy walk with my partner around the neighborhood. I played Munchkin with my son, sister in-law, and nephew. We had a decent supper, though I only ate parts of it (mostly potato salad!). I was then up and in bed fairly early, by 18:30.

I laid there for a while, wondering if I was going to sleep. Many people I'd talked with said they didn't get a wink of sleep the night before. I was slowly drifting off when one of my training buddies called, around 19:30, to motivate me and remind me of all the training I'd put in for this. It was a fairly short call and I was soon back to trying to sleep. Around 20:30, a heavy thunderstorm rolled in: lots of lightening and heavy rain with strong winds. I'd checked the forecast and knew it wasn't supposed to be raining in the morning, but it also hadn't called for this thunderstorm. I was hoping it wasn't a bad omen.

My "sleep" was like a shallow sine wave, slowly drifting into and out of sleep. I never woke up in a start thinking I was late, but I also never really got into a deep sleep.

The Morning Of

In spite of my lack of real sleep, I woke at 03:30 feeling fairly well rested. I used the restroom, got all BodyGlided up, put on the heart rate monitor, my timing chip, and the tri suit. I always wear the same hiking shorts and black long-sleeved t-shirt over top of my tri gear at races and I didn't want to change anything this time, so that went on as well. I headed downstairs, quietly, and munched down a Bonk Breaker bar and started sipping an electrolyte drink.

My partner was up and got herself ready as well and we headed into Madison at 04:30. We had no troubles parking in a lot just across the street from the Terrace. It was strange to see so much activity going on that early in the morning! Thousands of athletes and their support people were out and about. My first activity was to drop off my two special needs bags. I really didn't think I needed them, but thought I should have them out there, just in case and so I could potentially drop stuff off (arm warmers from the bike or Fuel Belt on the run).

I then headed into the bike area to make sure everything was OK there. I borrowed a floor pump to make sure the tires were at proper pressure and then made a last minute decision that would prove interesting later on. I had planned on stuffing my tri suit pockets, in T1, with the nutrition I'd want to consume during the bike. Part of that was some GU packets, both regular and Roctane. Instead, I decided to tape them to the bike. I had electrical tape in my morning bag as I'd already been thinking a bit about this. I taped two packets to my top tube, right up tight against the headset. I've done this before and it's worked well. More on this, though, later.

After that, it was into body marking. That was a bit chaotic, but surprisingly quick. There were volunteers all over the place, easily spotted in their lime-green t-shirts, with athletes clustered all around them. Once I was marked, my partner and I walked down the signature spiral part of the parking ramp. We'd have to run up that ramp, three stories, coming out of the water to get into the building to get our T1 bags and change.

We then made our way down towards the water where I made a last port-a-potty stop and then changed into my wetsuit. With all of my gear stowed in my "morning" bag, I got a last kiss, said goodbye and headed to where all the other athletes were. I dropped off my morning bag and then officially "checked-in" by having my timing chip chirp over the mat as I headed down to the water.

Swim

I went and looked at historical weather data for Madison, Verona, Mt Horeb, and Cross Plains and the weather in Madison and the surrounding area that day was: low 9°C, high 23°C, winds 8-24 kph out of the N/NW. I'm guessing the air temperature that morning, by the time I was in the water, was around 12°C, though I think it warmed up fairly quickly. The water temperature was a nice 22°C. The swim course has us starting in the water, about 200 meters from the shoreline. You can see that here.

There was a large red buoy positioned right at the start and I swam straight to it. Once there, I realized I was about 20 minutes early and so swam out, nice and easy, to the farther buoy line and back. When I got there, things were already starting to fill up, so I started treading water with everyone else. I managed to find this video, which I'm in! This guy was a kayak volunteer and had a GoPro camera mounted on his craft. At 49 seconds into the video he has a shot where he was by the group of us out at the big red buoy and told us to cheer. I'm the one right in the middle waving like an idiot. :)

After another five minutes or so the professionals started swimming into the area. I believe Ben Hoffman, the eventual winner, brushed my shoulder swimming past me. They got to start about 10 meters in front of us (they didn't go a full 2.4 miles!). Their cannon went off at 06:50 and I had 10 minutes to go.

I was strangely calm and had been all morning. I could hear Mike Reilly urging the remaining athletes to get in the water or they wouldn't be there by the time we started! I'd mentioned I was lined up right at the first buoy and right in the front. Well, many other quick swimmers had the same idea and tried to worm their way up front. I always managed to regain my position, but before I knew it I was shoulder to shoulder with other swimmers, with many more pressing into my back. We were like sardines and it was impossible to tread water without banging into someone's arm or catching their leg underwater.

Though I was listening intently, I never heard a cannon or even an official start for us, I just noticed other athletes holding out their hands to start their watches, so I did the same, and then all of a sudden folks were swimming! I quickly started my own watch and put my head down and went. My strategy all along had been to swim hard the first 500 meters to "get out in front" and find some calmer water. The first leg was just over 1 km long and I thought that would be enough to get things sorted out.

I was wrong. I'd always read about Ironman swim starts, how they are rough, and look like salmon spawning. Anybody who's browsed YouTube videos for "Ironman swim start" or volunteered at an event will know what I mean. For those who haven't, here's a video of this year's swim:

It's rough (especially if you watch by the yellow buoy). I thought it would mostly be rough if you were in the middle of it all. I'm here to tell you it applies equally well to those in the front. For that entire first 1 km I was banging into people or being banged into. I clocked some poor woman square on the head with my wrist (with my watch) and hand. Other people were swimming diagonally in front of me, even though I swam a fairly straight line right down the yellow buoys. Things, of course, got tight again at the first turn. It was only about 200 meters to the next turn and once I made it around there, to the back stretch, I finally found some open water and was able to sort of get into a groove.

At this point, with the rough start, I'd taken in quite a bit of Lake Monona. It tastes pretty good. :) Remember those winds I'd mentioned above? Well, they came into play as there was a decent 15 cm chop on the lake. With the wind coming NNW and us swimming NE and me breathing to my right, that meant that there was almost always water washing over my head on each breath. Luckily I wasn't breathing into it, but it was almost as bad having that water washing down across your face each time.

That back stretch is about 1,800 meters long and it was the first time I was able to have long stretches of swimming without bumping into anyone. Coming around the third turn got a bit tight again, but by now there weren't too many of us to cause problems. As I came around the fourth and final turn, I had about 600 meters to go in the last diagonal stretch. I felt good, but suddenly realized that I'd been so focused on the roughness of the swim that I hadn't really been trying to swim fast! I had a feeling that, due to all the thrashing early on, the lake water I'd drank, and my inattention, my swim time wasn't going to be great. Rather than trying to burn it up that last 600 meters, I decided to just swim strong.

Unfortunately, something that had been on the edge of my consciousness suddenly made it self known: I was getting cramps in my calves and soleuses. It started on my right leg coming around the third turn. I had been kicking with a flexed foot (not at all effective for propulsion, but certainly helped trying to stretch out the cramp). Just when I thought that one was worked out, the left started to cramp too. I was so worried about these cramps, and the disaster it would be if I had them in both legs at the same time, that I thought: "I wish I had bananas right now!" Somehow, just thinking of bananas seemed to help. I actually repeated that word in my head over and over while I was swimming and the cramps stopped! I couldn't believe it.

I was able to swim strong the last 300 meters into the shore. When I did pull myself out of the water and managed to hit a split on my watch, I was surprised at the time. While I'd had dreams of going sub-hour, I was figuring this swim was more like a 1:10, so the time I saw put a smile on my face.

Swim Time: 1:03:58 (1:39/100m)
Division (M40-44): 33 of 448 - 7.37%
Gender: 169 of 1,764 (registered) - 9.58%

Overall: 214 of 2,453 (starters) - 8.72%

T1

After getting the wetsuit unzipped and off my shoulders, I was at the strippers. For those not in triathlon, these are the volunteers who help you get your wetsuit off. You pull it down to about your hips, drop onto your back in front of them with your feet in the air. They grab the suit at the waist, you lift your butt, and they pull (strip) the suit right up and off your legs. They then reach down to help you up and hand you your suit back.

There's about a 100 meter run up from the shoreline and into the parking ramp area. That's when we start running up the three stories of spiral to get into the Terrace building. I zipped into the T1 bag area and went down the right aisle (mine was right in the middle), snatched my bag and ran around to get into the changing room.

I had been told by others who'd done IMWI that there would be a volunteer "assigned" to me, or at least right there to help me. I dashed to a chair and started pulling gear out of my T1 bag, looking around to see who might be there to help. I didn't see anyone so I started toweling off a bit and grabbing my biking gear. I had everything on and was stuffing my wetsuit, cap, and googles into my bag when someone finally comes up and asks if they can help. I said, "Sure, you can put these arm warmers on me!" and they did just that. I was a little upset that nobody had been there to help me thusfar -- I saw many volunteers helping many other people. Maybe I looked like I knew what I was doing and didn't need help.

Anyway, being all geared up, I ran out of the room, in stocking feet and carrying my bike shoes, down the main hall and out of the building to the ... sunscreen volunteers! These folks had on rubber gloves and had huge vats of sunscreen at their feet. You'd stand in front of them and they'd smear you up -- shoulders, back, arms, legs (if you offered them), face, ears, etc. -- with sunscreen. I stood there and turned a bit for what I thought was long enough for them to get me covered, then ran off up the parking ramp and around the corner in to the bike area.

I knew right where my bike was, of course, and was quite pleased to see that a volunteer was already pulling it off the bar. By the time I got to my bar, my bike was there and waiting. I ran it down the other half of the parking area to the mount zone. Just before then, I stopped and put on my shoes. The mount zone was fairly open at that time, maybe just 10 other athletes, so there was plenty of room to get on, clipped in, and start the three stories of spiral back down the ramp and out onto the road. I was excited to start the bike!

T1 Time: 8:40

Bike

My strategy for the bike was to regulate my power. I planned to do this by perception and also checks on the heart rate (HR) monitor. I had done several full distance rides on terrain that mimicked the course, so was hoping I'd do well at this. The bike course is an east-west lollipop: you head generally west out of town about 15 miles, then do two 40 mile loops through the hills and a few local communities, before heading back east into town again. Here's the map:

The course is hilly. I lived in Madison for almost 8 years and biked in and around the area for much of that time, including my undergraduate years when I was on the UW's club sport cycling team. I knew the hills well and had come down and ridden the loop again twice this past summer. The most striking thing is that you can never quite get into a steady rhythm. You can get into aero on the flats, but they only last so long before you're climbing the next hill. We're not talking mountains, but it's certainly not a flat course:

Things started out fine and I was really feeling good. I covered the first 53 miles of the ride (the stick of the lollipop and the first loop) in 2:43:03 or 19.5 mph (31.38 kph). I was feeling strong and really had no concerns about my HR or power output at this point. I was also doing well on my nutrition and fluids. However, ... my second loop was downright pedestrian, with an average of just 17.72 mph (28.52 kph)! I just didn't have the legs to power up the hills. I was generally comfortable and felt fine otherwise, though I spent more time on the hoods than in the aero position, but the legs just didn't have anything in them for those hills.

Remember those GU packets I mentioned I'd taped to my top tube? Well, every time I stood to pedal, my inner thighs would brush against the packets and I was getting little cuts from the sharp edges of them. :( I eventually consumed one of them just to get rid of it and then peeled the other two off and stuffed them in my tri suit pockets. They both stayed there until the end of the race.

I did manage to recover enough after the two loops to bring it "home" fairly well, covering the last 18 miles back into town at a 19.34 mph (31.12 kph) over some gentle rollers. I was happy to be back in town and was ready to get off the bike after riding back up the three stories of the parking ramp spiral.

One thing I'll also point out is that the fans along the bike course were incredible! My own family surprised me with both the locations and number of times I saw them. They must have been zipping from spot to spot to see me at times. I really do appreciate it!

Also, there were times, especially climbing the two steepest hills on the loop, where the crowds were just like what you see when watching the Tour de France. People were 8-10 deep along both sides of the road, and into the road, so that they had to back-up to let riders get through. It was an amazing experience. The first time I encountered it, I was on one of the first S-curves at the bottom of the hill and I could already hear the crowd, but couldn't yet see them. Then as I came around a curve they were there. They lined the road for a good 200-300 meters from the top and they were providing all sorts of motivation, cheers, chants, sayings, etc. It was pretty neat.

Bike Time: 5:57:43 (18.79 mph)
Division (M40-44): 54 of 448 - 12.05%
Gender: 298 of 1,764 (registered) - 16.89%
Overall: 329 of 2,453 (starters) - 13.41%
HR Average: 141 bpm

T2

I think my T2 rocked and it could have been faster by at least a minute. After handing off my bike, I ran into the convention center, down the hall, and into the T2 bag room. From there it was a quick dash into the changing room again. There wasn't much to do clothing-wise and I had my running gear on and all my bike stuff re-packed in my transition bag before a volunteer came up to offer assistance. The only thing I had wanted help with was putting water in my FuelBelt bottles. I'd pre-staged dry mix of some GU Roctane and Electrolyte tabs. If he had come over right away, he could have handed me the belt as I was finishing up. As it was, I actually took a minute (it felt like longer, of course) and did some quick stretching of the lower back and my injury area on my left leg (just working the soleus and gastrocnemius) while he was filling the bottles.

As soon as I had my FuelBelt in hand, I was running out of the room, putting the belt on as I went. I zipped down the hallway and out the same doors I'd exited after T1. There, again, were the sunscreen volunteers. I took time again to have them slather me up. I even waited, somewhat impatiently, I'll admit, while they smeared the stuff on my shoulders, taking time to get up under my tri suit. I thought that was quite nice of them, but was feeling the need to get moving again, so off I went ... all of about 5 meters into a porta-potty for my only pit-stop in the whole race (just a quick pee).

After that, I was running back up the parking ramp and heading out onto the run!

T2 Time: 5:30
HR Average: 126

Run

The run course is a fairly compact double loop.

It affords spectators incredible access to the athletes, which is good for both parties: it's so nice to see family cheering you on so often and they appreciate getting to see more of you after seven hours of brief glimpses.

My strategy for the run was based entirely on heart rate (HR). I wanted to shoot for not going over 145 and hoped to keep it right around 140. I don't have a GPS watch, though I have trained enough with a running partner who does, that I can do a decent job of gauging my pace based on my heart rate. It turns out I didn't need to do this as there were mile markers on course for every single mile. I simply took splits and was able to see, for each mile, how I was doing.

I started off feeling good and strong, thinking about quick cadence with the feet.

Indeed, my first mile was a 7:55 pace at a 142 average HR. I was feeling pretty good! I knew my swim was close to an hour (my watch reported it as a 1:05, though I know I hit the split button as I was running up the spiral) and I knew my bike was under 6 hours. I felt that I had the capability of a 4 hour marathon, which is about a consistant 9:00/mile pace. Knowing that, and knowing that I really needed to regulate myself on the run, I consciously slowed my pace. My next mile came in at an 8:54 pace at a 143 average HR.

Well, to make a long story short, I didn't keep that 9:00 pace. Things generally slowed to about a 10:00 pace. My 6th mile was a 10:49, but that included the only two real hills on the course, up Observatory Drive. I ran them both, the first loop and felt OK doing so. Here are my first half marathon splits and HR with some commentary:

1m: 7:54.78 @ 142 - started strong!
2m: 8:54.72 @143 - consciously slowed pace
3m: 9:28.65 @ 144 - settling in; through Camp Randall stadium
4m: 10:03.75 @ 145 - flat
5m: 10:05.00 @ 142 - flat Lakeshore path
6m: 10:49.01 @ 142 - Observatory hills!
7m: 9:48.75 @ 141 - flat Lakeshore path
8m: 9:43.86 @ 140 - flat Lakeshore path
9m: 9:38.42 @ 139 - flat Lakeshore path
10m:  9:49.86 @ 137 - flat Lakeshore path
11m: 10:25.60 @ 138 - slight hill up to Camp Randall stadium
12m: 10:44.87 @ 135 - flat; starting to show signs of tiring!
13m: 10:53.38 @ 135 - up slight hill of State Street

Each loop of the run included three "turn-around" points, one near mile 2 on the commuter path, one at the middle of State Street, and one at the end of the Lakeshore path, just past Picnic Point. I don't like turn-arounds. They slow me down and I find it hard to get back into my groove. I wasn't looking forward to re-visiting all those turn-arounds in the second loop.

I should point a couple of things out at this point. First, it was definitely warm. I can't say it was hot, but I was thankful for the ice at the aid stations, which were placed almost at every mile. I was running through the aid stations, but grabbing water, sometimes the Perform they offered, sometimes the flat Coke, sometimes the orange wedges, but I always, always grabbed ice. I'd slip off my running hat and dump the ice in there, then bend forward and put my head into the hat so the ice would stay in. In several of the pictures, you can see my lumpy head -- it's because of the ice up there! It really helped keep me cool.

Photo credit goes to Amy Hying Photography

Next, I still feel I was doing well with my fluids and nutrition. I was occasionally grabbing a GU at an aid station and was also occasionally sipping from my electrolyte or Roctane bottles. I didn't experience any bloating or gastro-intestinal issues the whole race.

Finally, as I mentioned in the prolog, due to my stress fracture injury, the longest I'd run in training since mid-May was a 12 miler, and I'd done that just two weeks prior to the event as a stand-alone run. My longest brick run post-injury was only 8 miles. So, by the half-way point, I was both feeling pretty good about myself, having made it that far and still feeling relatively good, but I was also waiting for the shoe to drop. In a "normal" marathon, most people experience a wall between miles 18 to as late as 22 or 24. I feared that my wall was coming sooner than that, ... and I was right.

The turn-around at the half-marathon point brings you within 200 meters of the overall finish. All you'd have to do is stay to the right and continue running down the hill and you'd be there. Instead, you have to stay left, turn-around, and start running back out for another loop. My pace continued to slow, running roughly 10:40s to the point of exiting Camp Randall stadium the second time. This included the miles 14, 15, and 16. It was during those miles that my wall appeared.

Mentally I was having a really hard time for those three miles. I was in a very dark and scary place. However, I knew this time was coming; I'd read about it and I'd heard about it from other Ironmen and Ironwomen. I'd been told to have a clear reason in my mind as to why I was doing this to myself. Why did I want to keep running? I'd thought this all through in the weeks before the event, so I was able to pull those thoughts out of my mental bag and hold them up to myself. Reminding myself, as best I could, why I was out here and inflicting this pain on myself.

As I cleared the mile 16 sign, I emerged from that dark place. I actually felt good for a while, knowing that I'd faced a hard challenge and had passed it. However, when I hit mile 17, something strange happened. Without me consciously thinking about it, I started walking. I'd been running continuously up to that point, even through the aid stations. But, ... here I was, walking. The scary part is that I couldn't motivate myself to start running again until mile 19. Those two miles alone added 10-12 minutes to my finishing time. It happened one more time, for about a quarter of a mile between miles 20 and 21.

In that brief moment, I was doing some quick mental calculations, based on my average pace up to that point and the current time of day. I realized that if I was going to make my minimal goal of finishing in under 12 hours I needed to get running again and stick with it to the end. I started running again at mile 22 and vowed I wouldn't stop until I finished. I clearly remember seeing the markers for miles 23 and 24, but don't recall the mile 25 marker -- I may have been "zoning" a bit to stay focused -- though I had to have seen it to take a run split.

As I came up State Street and around the corner of the Capitol, I thought, "I've got it made, just take it home." I then saw my youngest son and father in-law. My son wanted a high-five and a kiss: I gave him the high five while running past but told him I couldn't stop running now! He was a little disappointed but understood later.

Then, all of a sudden, time evaporated. As I came around the last corner, not more than about 300 meters to go, I could hear Mike proclaiming another athlete as a new Ironman and then he said, "And here come two more, and they're right at the 12 hour mark! Let's see if we can bring them home under 12!" The crowd just erupted. I saw the official clock and it already said 11:59 and some low seconds. In a bit of a panic, I started pushing: I really wanted a finishing time under 12:00.

I'd been told by other Ironpeople that I might get emotional that last mile or so. I wasn't at all, up until the last 10 meters or so. What was going through my mind, and I hope it didn't come out of my mouth, was that, "I effing did it!!!!" I was so happy! I managed to cross the line and just barely, by 13 seconds, meet my goal.

The catchers were there right away, pulling me out of the way and then asking if I was OK. There was a twinge of seriousness in their voices that had me questioning whether I really was, but everything felt just fine at that moment. They asked if I used or would like a chocolate milk (there was a huge campaign about that at this event) and I said, "Yes," so they handed me a milk that I downed in seconds. When they asked if I wanted another, I said, "Can you get me two, ... or three?" So, I stood there and drank my milks. As I did so, they brought over and draped around me a foil "blanket," they said to keep me warm. Here I'd been putting ice in my hat all day to keep cool because of the heat and they wanted to put a blanket on me!? I indulged them, but questioned why I needed this thing (more on that later).

Then they brought over my finishers cap and shirt, which are quite nice, and put the finishers medal around my neck. I've already run several times with my hat, so it's starting to show finger smudges on the brim.

They then said they were going to take me over to have my picture taken. I took my first step and realized I couldn't walk! I think just standing there, for 3-5 minutes, was enough for my muscles to say, "It's finally over! We don't have to do anything anymore!" I actually needed help getting over to the backdrop to have my picture taken.

I then hobbled my way out of the finishing area and to my waiting family. My oldest son made it to me first and I held him in a tight hug and cried for a while. I was so happy to have done this! My partner Rebecca was next and she and I had an even longer embrace and there was more crying on my part. She'd sacrificed as much as I for this to happen. Doing something like this really is a family affair.

Here are my last half marathon splits:

14m: 10:32.62 @ 132 - flat, entering mental "darkness"
15m: 10:18.51 @ 132 - flat
16m: 11:05.25 @ 131- flat, worst of the "darkness"
17m: 10:43.62 @ 132 - small hills, emerging from the depths
18m: 16:23.78 @ 112 - flat, walking
19m: 16:24.60 @ 106 - flat, walking, including Observatory hills
20m: 10:55.15 @ 122 - motivate! flat Lakeshore path
21m: 12:23.22 @ 120 - flat, with another brief walking phase
22m: 10:50.89 @ 122 - time to run it home!
23m: 10:49.99 @ 125 - flat
24m: 11:06.87 @ 127 - small hills back to Camp Randall stadium
25m: 10:56.75 @ 128 - almost done
26.2m: 13:04.96 @ 132 - up State Street and around the Capitol; consistant 10:53 pace to finish!

Run Time: 4:43:56 (10:50 / mile)
Division (M40-44): 106 of 448 - 23.66%
Gender: 513 of 1,764 (registered) - 29.08%
Overall: 593 of 2,453 (starters) - 24.17%


Overall HR Average: 136 (I didn't work hard enough!)
Overall HR Max: 164 (the run up Observatory hill)
Overall HR Min: 97 (treading water before the swim)
Overall Calories: 9,999 (I'm sure it simply maxed the device, so who knows how much I really burned)

For all the statistics nerds out there, RunTri has a great write-up of the event.

Post-Race

Other family members got in there for hugs and congratulations. It was fantastic to have so much family there. Their support was invaluable; I really don't know how I can express my gratitude enough! I was still having troubles walking: my glutes and hip flexors were basically non-functional and there were some aches in the joints, of course. Everyone was totally willing to cater to me and, I soon realized, waiting for me to decide what we were going to do. Rather than staying at the event, I decided to head home.

Most of the family split up in to various cars, but my partner and I were going to pick-up my bike and transition bags first. Knowing it would take me a while, I decided to start walking to the Terrace right away. As I was hobbling along, I was thinking back on the day and all that I'd done to prepare for it, including what I'd overcome (stress fracture) to make the day a reality. I wound up stopping along a railing, with my elbows on the railing and head in my hands and started crying again. If you know me, I'm not a very emotional person, but this was three times now that I was having such a reaction. I went ahead and embraced this one and just let the moment take me.

At some point, my partner moved in beside me and I came back to the present and we walked into the Terrace together. I wasn't exactly sure how to proceed, which thing I wanted to do first. Perhaps sensing my hesitancy, Rebecca suggested I get the free 10 minute massage all the athletes were entitled to. We walked (I hobbled) over and we signed up and the wait was only about 15 minutes. I used that time to go and collect my transition bags and then took a much needed seat. Almost immediately I could hear the chatter of other athletes: "How about that wind?!" "Does anyone have any ibuprofen?" "They missed my runs splits; did you get your run splits?"

As I was sitting there, I realized I was cold! It was a really weird feeling. I still felt somewhat flush and, at least on the surface, warm, if not hot, from my all-day exertions. But I was sitting there feeling cold and actually started shivering. I'd shed my foil blanket before I left the athlete area, but there was a big pile of them near the massage area so I grabbed one and wrapped it around me. They really do help and soon I was no longer chattering my teeth.

My massage was wonderful and I know I got more than my allotted 10 minutes. There had to be about 20 tables in the room, though not all of them were in use at the time. I'm not sure if all those folks were volunteering their time, but I sure appreciated it. I was able to walk a bit better after getting off the table, but it was clear that I was going to be tender for a while.

Several of my training partners praised the hot chicken broth that was offered on the course. I hadn't taken any while doing the event, but they had a big pot full of it in the massage room and I poured myself a glass. I'm a wimp with hot drinks, so needed to let it cool a bit. When I finally had some, and it was OK, but it wasn't a "nectar from the Gods" type of experience that others had described.

We went out and I got my bike out of transition and we headed back to the van in the parking garage across the street. After loading everything up, I climbed into the passenger seat and just sort of melted there, not wanting to move much. Rebecca drove us home.

That Evening

I took a nice long shower when we got home. The warm water helped loosen some muscles and also seemed to help with the stiff joints. After dressing I came downstairs to have some supper. Interestingly, when the catchers directed me to the pizza and sandwiches tent at the finish line, I really had no desire for it at all. I thought I'd want to eat ravenously, but I really didn't have an appetite. I wound up eating a helping of the left-over potato salad from the night before and that was about it. I was drinking an electrolyte drink as well, but really didn't want anything else.

My plan from the beginning was to head back in to the event so that I could catch the midnight finishers. I've repeatedly heard and read about what an inspiring time that is, when all the pro and age group finishers come back out and help the crowds, which grow in size, cheer on those last finishers out on the course. I thought I'd head upstairs, take a quick nap, and then we'd head back into town around 23:00. Well, ... I never got back up. While I'd have liked to have seen the midnight finish, I think staying in bed and sleeping was just what my body needed.

The Next Day

The next morning we were up around 07:00 and got ready and headed back into Madison to attend the athlete's breakfast and to gain access to the finisher's store. The line for the store was over an hour long when we got there, but we decided to stay with it. Luckily it passed through the room where the breakfast was offered, so people would just pop out of line, grab some food, and bring it back and eat while standing there. I managed to enjoy a sausage, egg, and cheese muffin as well as some fruit and then had a chorizo burrito as well.

In the store, the only thing I really wanted to get was a finishers jacket. I've seen several, of all different colors and styles, and really like them. For our event, they had a nice black jacket, made by K*Swiss with orange embroidering (fitting with the orange color scheme for the other event materials). We were fairly quick in the store and then headed back home to pack-up, grab the kids, and drive back home. While I usually drive, and was feeling fairly good, Rebecca took the drivers seat and I enjoyed some more rest as a passenger.

Recovery

We stopped after about 2 hours to grab some lunch at an Olive Garden in Eau Claire, WI. I still really didn't have an appetite, but I enjoyed some iced tea and a nice shrimp pasta. Getting out of the van and walking was tough and I was a little disappointed by that. I was hoping that I wouldn't be or feel this way long. It stayed with me through at least Wednesday morning, with each day getting a bit better: less sore and stiff, both in the morning and throughout the day.

I'd been looking forward to some good sleep on Monday night as I really hadn't gotten any (good sleep) since the Thursday night before I drove down. Unfortunately, I still wasn't getting any. Remember those volunteers who put the sunscreen on? Remember how I said I thought they were doing such a good job and really getting me coated? Well, they didn't. I had some pretty bad sunburn on my back, especially in a crescent shape the was along the area of the curve of my tri suit in the back. Since the burn was on my back and on both shoulder blades, I really couldn't lie comfortably in bed and even lying on my side was painful (it reached down and around to under the arm, likely from when I was on the bike). Starting on Tuesday I was applying doses of Aloe Vera and eventually, but about Friday, the sensitivity was gone.

As for training, I took a couple of days off and then wound up running 6 miles Thursday morning, 9 miles Saturday morning, and then did a 52 km bike ride on Sunday. Since then I've been back into my Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday running routine, though I'm sleeping in on the other days. After a couple of weeks I'll start back on the bike (hopefully outdoors but likely on the trainer), get back into the pool, and start lifting weights. Since I signed up to do next year's event, my training season has already started!

Epilog

The entire Ironman experience has been amazing! From start to finish I have learned so much and had such a wonderful time. I've now got a great fitness and experience base for my next events (yes, there will be more after next years). I actually think it would be fun to do one of these a year, maybe not worrying about my times, just enjoying myself. I know, that sounds a little crazy, but I think it's true. I'm just glad I have a short memory -- I already can't clearly remember how bad it was on the run in those dark moments. :)

I'd like to close by thanking all of those who supported me in doing this, starting with my family: Rebecca, Anson, and Aaron; my extended family: Deb, Joe, Liz, Anna, Jon, Ray, Rosa, Jeff, Julie, Stephanie, Scott, Dan, and Amaya; my training group: Dave, Mike, Chris, Jon, Johnny, Jen, Evan (and others); and my sports Dr.s and PT: Claudia, Rochelle, Scott, and Brenden. You all helped to make my day fantastic!