IMUT Race Report

On May 1, 2010 I completed the inaugural Ironman Utah (IMUT) with 12 of my fellow teammates from Qt2systems.com. This race was in honor of Whitney and her family. 

I arrived in Utah on Tuesday so that I could get a couple low intensity workouts in and to acclimate, rest and preview the course which was very important being that its never been raced.

On Wednesday morning a few of us headed down to the swim venue to scope it out and get in a quick 45 min swim with a couple of pick-up sets.  Since the moment we arrived, it was evident that the typography provided no cover from wind, sun or anything Mother Nature decided to prepare. It’s the desert and although the landscape was beautiful, you have a hard time differentiating landmarks regardless of where your head turns.

The rumor a couple of weeks back were that the lake had been frozen and was 45-50 degrees. That turned out to be exactly a rumor, but we did discover the water was very cold. More than a few jumped in and jumped right back out. It was cold, but after the initial shock and about 5 minutes in and having your lungs acclimate, extremities go numb, it actually was enjoyable. I noticed how difficult it was to pick out sighting points, which I try to do prior to the race start. The buoy’s were not up either and only had a map to draw reference. The water was a green color and was pretty dark. There was no visibility and while swimming it was easy to get disoriented as well as a little bit of vertigo.

After the swim Pat Wheeler and I rode a small bit of the course careful not to climb any hills and to stay in ZR. The wind gusts on the bike were hard and we commented how tough of a race it could be if the wind was like this on race day. At this point, I got really excited because I feel the more difficult the elements are, based on the protocol we follow, along with severe elements as well as tested nutrition, it would really benefit me and my day.  We also observed so many people hammering the hills with only three days to go before the gun goes off!

After the ride on Wednesday we drove the remainder of the bike course and previewed the run. The run preview was where our jaws dropped and there were more than a few “oh my’s”.  The best way to describe it, take the first part of the Boston Marathon and reverse it then add the areas of the heart break hills in the middle until Boston College and repeated it twice. The first 5 or so miles were ascending climbs followed by equal declines. Again, I was pretty happy about this as most of my training this protocol was completed in the steep hills of Maine on Route 77. There was no question that it would be critical to complete the biking assignment on plan or you would be in a world of hurt during the marathon!

Thursday was registration and logistics day and family was arriving. All went off without a hitch and I was getting anxious to get the show on.

Friday’s plan, stay completely off the feet. Did and awesome job of that. Into Friday night I did not sleep that well, but I guess as good as you could ask with a wake-up time at or around 2:30.

Race morning, up on time, showered to loosen up and did a light roll and re-checked my pacing and morning bag. Applesauce and all of the pre-race hydration goes down without a hitch. I felt calm and ready to roll. We head down to the shuttle and leave the hotel at 4:15AM.  4:45 head to the swim venue and I have to pee so badly!! The bus takes forever to get to the swim venue. My eyeballs are floating I have to go so bad!! I ask my seatmate to turn his head and make use of the only thing I could do, my 24 ounce drinking bottle. I’m happy now!!

The swim venue is buzzing with activity. Bike check is secure and I find a place to lay down to stay off my feet. It’s amazing how many people tool around with 10-17 hour days ahead of them.

Not enough porta potty’s and its pretty cold out. I notice that more once race weight is attained I have just no fat to hang in the cold. Race start was at 7:00AM. It’s 6:30 now and I head into a tent to get into my swimsuit and to get ready. I’m calm and my head is totally ready to endure. I visually replicated my start, my swim technique and what I want to do. I re-inspect the transition and head into line for the swim. The line is huge and does not move. The announcer provided a request for swimmers to enter the water, but it appears no one is moving. I enter the water and it feels much colder than the practice swim. I speculate it’s the thermal of it still being mostly dark.

I roll into the water and adjust, but I could not bear to put my face in. My placing was to be ¾ right of the buoy, three rows back. I’m not that great of a swimmer and there is no benefit for me to ride the cable and try and get the snot kicked out of me. My conditioning would allow me to avoid the mass hand-to-hand combat and work my way over to try and cut corners. I’m about half way to my chosen spot and people moving all over the place and bam, the gun goes off!! Oh, no, I have 200 yards till my position! There is still a quarter of the field on the shore. No warning, no countdown. Darn!!!

Immediately, the craziness starts with people panicking. I’m not sure if it was because I did not get closer to the start? I guy swimming in front of me pulls up after a couple of strokes and tries to hug me. He had the look of death on his face and I put my hand out to keep him away. He flings his cap of and holds it in his hand, his day is over. The surfboard guy rushes over and I swim in between them. There were tons of people who seemed to just sit-up, freak out and call it a day! 

The sun was rising and it was hard to see the buoys because they are the same color as the swim caps. I could not find feet with the color of the water and looked up often on the first turn. I felt good, on the first turn but felt my powerbar coming up and was doing mini pukes. There were little waves and good contact through he first turn. I over shot the first turn by about 50 yards and headed straight and 25 yards to the right of the cable. The sun was low and in our faces and I was happy that I picked mirrored goggles.

 I could not get a good breath as the wind was blowing in our face and I was eating water. I settled into a groove and headed for the turn. I saw a big rock way out front and assumed I was at the 1.2-mile mark. I could only sight to the left because the waves prohibited turning to the right. I have to at least get a few right breaths in because my shoulder gets tired if I only breathe on one side. The mini-pukes don’t subside, but I’m feeling strong and go about getting into a grove. There is something mental about swimming and leaving a little meat on the bone until you know where you are on the course and can push it. This is the case for me today. I round the big rock and see the finish. Pull it home and feel great. All of the prep was spot on for this distance. I’m able to get out of the water well and think about running by everyone on the boat ramp but…. I put my feet on the ground and they are frozen!!! I was running on what felt like bone!! I reach for my zipper on my suit and my hands don’t work!! I turned around and a volunteer starts the process.

I head into the tent and its’ dark and jammed with people. The gravel on the ground feels like it cuts my feet. There is no place to sit and I shove to the back of the tent. I stumble through the clothing change. I had to make a decision now if I put the extra shirt on because of the cold temperatures. I decide to go with arm warmers only. I think I would have opted for the shirt, but I knew my hands were not going to play along with this practical choice.

The volunteer swings my bike out and I mount looking forward to getting out of the reserve and into the mountains. I fumble to pull up my arm warmers and blitz out on target and on plan. I take some PowerAde down and I’m good to go.

As I exit the reserve and head out into the hills, I see Michelle and my uncle yell out my name. It was a surprise because they did not think they could get that close. This was mile two I’d say.

Mile 3, I’m riding the small ring and my screen computer has two figures I will cue on, cadence and watts. The plan was to ride this course for an average of 166 watts with a max of 215 and a cadence of 82-90.

I approach a flat portion of this hill and shift to the “big ring” and crack open my fuel belt and proceed to eat ½ of a Powerbar. I have my left hand on the hood. Often in the races I do, the barnburners are out to hammer the bike only to die a painful death latter in the day. Again, this was only mile 3. I catch a glimpse of a guy passing me on my left and boom, he pops his chain while out of the saddle and falls and reaches out for me. He fell on me and I frantically try to pop my cleat out and arch my leg out. We are going I think 9 miles an hour. I tuck my arm under me to protect it and fall to the ground and stuck the front of my bike into the hill. The guy is on the back of my bike lying on me and we’re a tangled mess. We both scramble and I go about trying to get onto my bike. I put one cleat in and raise the bike up and my handle bars are bent the wrong way. I try to adjust while over and I’m too weak. I get off the bike and wedge the tire between my legs and tug. I get it close and worry that I don’t want to try to go down the hills a little off center but reason I can correct it latter. I jump back on the bike and notice that the skin on my finger is torn off and bleeding nicely. One foot in, to push off and shift and I then notice the left shifter is dangling in the air with no resistance. A few people drive pass and ask us if we both are all right.  The assaulter response “we’re fine” and I’m focused on my bike and say nothing. The guy tells me he’s sorry once again and that when he sees bike support he’ll send them my way. My head is processing every option in a speed that felt very mechanical… blip, blip, blip, options, options. Stay still or wait? Pull out, or press on. I want to say this calculation took 5 seconds. The “plan” was out the window. The only decision I could make was to do my best to work with what was in front of me. I was prepared, and I would not DQ unless they pulled me off the course. 

I jump on the bike; it’s big ring only and three rows of gearing, fast gear to middle row only. I can’t get enough power uphill and almost fall over so I have to get a head start and go down hill for a blip. I turn and see a wall of people and I’m not thinking clearly. Imagine getting a penalty now and how safe was this to the other racers? I turn around and do a military march of left, right up the hill. I peak down, 350 watts and a 30 cadence! Oh my!!! This is where I said out loud, “fuck it, the marathon is going to hurt more than usual!! Nail your nutrition, and do what you came here to do, you are prepared and focus on the now”.  (It’s kind of freaky how often I talk to myself!)

I set out to create an attack plan. I settle on trying to keep the power watts as low as I can on the hills and to attack the flats with as high of a cadence as reasonable and as fast as I could go on the downhill’s. I smile here, and build my confidence after doing exactly this as I completed a rolling hill of 3-4 miles. I’m thinking that the moment is similar to when I played football. The game never started for me until I got smacked in the jaw or knocked on my ass. That is where I was now on the bike. I was ready and knew what was ahead of me.

Having previewed the course was an extra advantage for me on this day. I knew that most of the hills had and ending and the worst of the hills were at around mile 45. The approach is redundant, grind, grind and once a downhill or flat came, I let lose. In fact, I let any amount of good common sense go on the downhills. There were big bursts of wind. The first couple of times I went down a hill I could easily achieve 50 plus miles per hour. It was insane, but felt it was all I could do to make up time. The course was wide and I did not think about anything other than ripping it up whenever I could.

I started passing people around mile 40 or so which was early for me. I may have been riding too hard, but had no way of knowing what my real numbers were. I completely nailed every aspect of my nutrition and completed 6 pees on the bike. My heart rate was nowhere it needed to be, any my legs were building up acid. They would do that on the hills and I freed them up on the flats and descents.

It was very strange to lap riders at the 60-70 mile mark. The winds coming back where harder to navigate and more than a few times I got into trouble coming downhill with my front tire going out of control with gusts. I saw that I at one point I hit 54MPH and had no regard for my safety. At mile 90, I hit the flats with a tail wind and was cranking along going 35MPH. I passed people like they were standing still.  At mile 106, near my hotel I got the worst wobble I have ever had. I’ve been practicing beating the wobble. Just way too much trainer time coming from the North! It was so bad that I thought my handlebars came undone. I was fading in breaks and sitting up with no success. Finally as I came into a neighborhood did I slow down and make the corner. Ugly stuff. My right calf became sore. Never had that before and I surmised it was from the crappy cadence. The marathon was looming and I could not wait to see how it was going to unfold.

I turned my Garmin on and prepared myself mentally to get into the run. My plan for the run was to race the marathon 10-13 beats above my bike heart rateaverage. As you know now, all of my bike data was useless because I was riding outside my wattage and zones for 5:47:00. It was all going to be by feel on this day.

I arrive into town and dismount. I change over and start to leave the tent and realized my Garmin was still on my bike. The volunteer offers to get it, but can’t figure it out. No worries I say, find my bike and twist, on the wrist and away we go!

The first part of the run is about 5-6 miles of ascent. Look at the Garmin for a reference and we’re at 165BPM or about 20 higher than my bike. It meant nothing other than I decide to go as slow as I could while not wanting to look like I was walking (the family was there you know watching)!

I got through the first tough part and set a goal to run up and to roll down the hills with a high turnover as my only goal. I set on trying to run with good form. My legs were completely spent right out of the gate, but that did not mean my day was over. I set on trying to get faster throughout the run.

I did exactly that. After completing the first loop and getting encouragement from teammates and friends and strangers, the first 13 miles were over. I knew exactly what was in front of me. I’m not thinking of anything other than nailing my nutrition and to go about destroying myself from mile 21-26!

At mile 21, I turn it on, and the last 2-3 miles are down hill and I’m cranking out 7:05’s and I don’t know what!!

As I enter the “applause zone”, I’m obsessed about sprinting through the shoot with no pause. I’m grinning, and all about kicking the shit out of the course.

Through the gate, a nice volunteer tells me he has to walk me out to make sure I’m ok. I politely explained that I would not allow assistance today and that the course can’t beat it and me was not going to happen now.

The end result, 23^rd in AG and 107 overall out of 2900 plus racers. The course had the second highest non-completion rate of any Ironman in the past 30 years. Something like 14% did not complete and more than 75 people were pulled out of the water on the swim. The bike had close to 10,000 feet of climb with grades of 8-14%.  There is no question in my mind that my coach Jesse and his program at Qt2systems prepared me to achieve my goal. There was no way I could have pulled this off if not for the plan!! Thank you Jesse!

I immediately received a flood of calls offering support and condolences for what some said my “miss” of not getting to Kona as was the stated goal that I put out there in the wide open. I understand how supportive people are and appreciate them greatly! I got chided by more than a few that professed that I have “bad luck” in Ironman because of my crash on this day and my broken ribs at Lake Placid. Some more of the funny ones told me I needed two more Ironman races with the next one me falling on the run or getting hit by a car so that I could have the perfect race on my 3^rd!! Hmmm…

As insane as some of this is, it’s not even a question in my mind that this will go down as one of the proudest moments in my life. Although I would prefer to live in the no drama, draft free zone, this is why I love Ironman, endurance and life for that matter. I feel that this day was meant for me, a test. I can't allow myself to look backwards and "what if" because there is no value in that for me.

Ironman is a long day, and everyone has crap to work through. It’s not the crap that determines your day, it’s your mental toughness, the place you go deep inside that determines your interpretation of what success is. I could never live with myself if I folded when I knew I was not going to the big show. All you have to do is see the people puking on the side of the road, running with one leg or a broken shoulder to know you’ve made the right decision. It’s a lifetime of this stuff that inspires me.

I drew on Whitney and her parent’s! Shanna tells me, my Angel mother riding on my shoulder and so much more. 

As of this writing I do not know what’s next. I kicked around trying to get into Placid but actually, that does not even matter to me right now.  There is no shortage of goals, but an incredible resume of life changing events and memories! Thank you all for your support! Special thanks to Michelle (MFS) and my dear Uncle Paul who traveled cross-country to support me!