Ironman Maryland Race Report

My Ironman Maryland day began at 3:00 with me lying in bed wide awake – a full half hour before my alarm was set to go off.  I forced down a bagel and peanut butter, got dressed, and we were out the door around 4:15 for the short drive to our race parking spot.  My Sherpa (Amy, of course) set up parking the day before with a guy selling spots in a vacant lot directly across from the finish area.  Although this would be awesome post-race, it did require a three-quarter mile walk to get to transition.  Race morning was cool, but humid.  We made some nervous small talk as we walked down the quiet, dark streets of Cambridge - the calm before the storm.

T-0

I’m not sure if T-0 is a legitimate triathlon term, but I’m using it.  T-0 is race gear setup the morning of the race.  I entered the transition area just as it opened at 5AM.  With my headlamp on, I taped 7 Gu packs to my bike, pumped my tires up to full pressure, loaded my saddle bag with tubes and tire levers, loaded my rear bottle holders and my aero bottle with Gatorade, filled my bento box with
Bonk Breakers and salt tabs, screwed my CO2 cartridges in, and turned on my tracking GPS unit which was attached to my race number belt.  I forced down 1.5 brown sugar Pop Tarts before finding my bike bag and switching out my CEP compression sleeves with my trusty Zensahs.  I also taped the small drain hole on the bottom of my bike shoes because we were expecting water on the course in one section due to high tide.  With my foot *just* healed from Louisville, I wanted to take all precautions to keep them as dry as possible.  I made a bathroom stop, grabbed my special needs and morning clothes bags, and exited transition.

I found the right places to drop my bags and got rid of them.  You have access to your special needs bags during the race but do not get them back.  The morning clothes bag, however, is waiting for you after the finish line.  My bag had dry clothes, socks, and shoes to change into after the race.  I made one last bathroom stop, and then had Amy help me apply sunscreen that also had jellyfish sting protectant in it.  One of the unique aspects of IM Maryland is that the swim is in brackish water which contains jellyfish.

The race had been announced as wetsuit legal, which I didn’t view as a big deal.  I don’t have a wetsuit, and with my previous issues with swimming induced pulmonary edema (SIPE), it’s not a great idea for my anyhow, as the compression can be a contributing factor.  One thing different from previous races, however, was just how many people did have wetsuits.  I only saw 3 people who didn’t.  Amy watched the entire field begin the swim, and she estimates there were 20.

The Swim – 2.4 miles – Choptank River (2:01:53) - yes you read that time right...

The swim was a rolling start with athletes self-seeding themselves based on time.  If conditions were right and I was swimming hard, I could reasonably expect to cover the 2.4 miles in 1:30-1:40.  I made the conscious decision based on Louisville and what I know about how I perform to go easy on the swim to try and come out of the water with completely dry lungs.  I seeded myself in the 1:45-2:00 section of the line – basically at the end.

The cannon went off at 6:50 and we began to move forward to the front as the crazy fast swimmers headed out.  The line moved slowly but steadily, and the athletes bounced to the music with nervous smiles, cheers, and laughter as they made their way forward.  When I got to the swim start, I saw Amy sitting on the pier just to my right.  She purchased the VIP package, which was great for her – it gave her access to food and great viewing locations for the race.  I gave some volunteers and the race director a fist bump as I entered the water.    

Swimmers getting ready - lots of nervous energy

Just before the race start

I wasn’t concerned about the water temp (announced as just below 73 degrees, I think), and at this point the thought of jellyfish was somewhere far off in the back of my head.  As I took my first step down the boat ramp into the water, I was shocked at how cold it felt.  Given the cool morning air, I was expecting the water to feel somewhat warm.  Nope – it felt like ice!  A reminder of the open water swims I did in Wisconsin this summer.  I shot Amy a look of concern when I was chest deep, as cold water is also a contributing factor to SIPE – but in true Ironmate fashion, the only thing I remember is her smile and I could hear her voice saying “You’ll be fine”.  The next thing I noticed was the taste of the water.  As I mentioned, the water is brackish, so it’s a mix of fresh water from up-river, and salt water from the Chesapeake Bay.  

Here we go - the start of Ironman attempt #2

My worried glance at Amy

At this point in previous races, I may have panicked.  It was cold, it was still pretty dark out, visibility was typical of a Midwestern lake – about to the end of your arm, and there were jellyfish just waiting to sting me.  But for some reason, I immediately relaxed and swam.  I didn’t swim fast, but I swam.  As we exited the pier, we took a right turn and our first of two loops had begun.  I never once was worried.  I remember watching my arm come out of the water while I was breathing, thinking this is a nice, slow pace.  I got into a 3 or 4 stroke breathing pattern and felt like I had plenty of air.  I was sighting well, focusing on a long, slow, stroke, and was calm as I could be.  Speaking of sighting, I have come a long way in swimming straight lines in open water as you can see from my GPS plot.  I used to be all over the place, and now I crab about the people who swam zig zags in front of or over me.

My swimming is much straighter than it used to be!

At the second turn buoy, I noticed I had been swimming against the current as it pushed me past the buoy, so I had to adjust for the short time until the turn 3 where we picked up the minor current and completed our first lap.  As I reached the 4^th turn buoy in our rectangular course, I felt my foot kick something soft.  I knew it wasn’t another athlete, and I was hoping it wasn’t a jellyfish.  Turns out it was the river bottom.  I stood up and took advantage of an opportunity to go to the bathroom (can’t seem to do that unless I’m standing still), and I actually walked for a few seconds just to rest.  At this point I had been in the water close to 60 minutes.  I thought that if the next loop took me 60 minutes, so be it.  I had no concerns about missing the swim cutoff.

Difficult to even see the swimmers out there

I put my head down and knocked out the second lap.  This time looking at the safety boats – reminding me of all the time spent in the Florida Keys (i.e. Grady White and Pursuit).  I also noticed how Marylanders love their state flag – it was all over their boats.  I have to admit – their state flag is pretty awesome.  A few times during the second loop, I did a full exhale.  If I had any SIPE going on, that’s when I would know it.  Each time I checked, I felt like my lungs were clear.  I would have to wait until I was out before I would know for sure. 

Maryland state flag

At just over two hours, I finished the swim and walked up on shore, thanking the volunteers on my way out and as they helped me with the big step from the sand to the grass.  I felt a little woozy from rolling as I swam, which is typical, but I checked my lungs again.  No SIPE!  No rattle in my lungs, no fluid, no problem!  I saw Amy in the chute and told her the good news.  I could see the tears in her eyes as she had been worried about me out there so long.  Her last view of me was a worried look as I felt the cold water.  We were both relieved – I got a good luck kiss, and was off to get my bike gear bag and go into the dreaded changing tent.

T-1:  SWIM TO BIKE (14:08)

The volunteer presence, although not nearly as mighty as Louisville, worked hard to get my bag to me so that I had it in hand by the time I reached the changing tent.  Aaah yes, the changing tent - always an interesting mix of water, chamois butter, and butt.  Since I was so late out of the water, there was plenty of room to maneuver.  Here, too, the volunteers were good – bringing you a drink if needed, helping with gear and clothes, and taking your bag when finished.

I removed my swim top deciding to ride in my Melanoma Research Foundation bike jersey.  I slipped my Zensahs and CEP arm coolers on and carefully dried my feet and used body glide in an attempt to avoid the nasty blister that ended my day in Louisville.  With that I was out of the tent for a bathroom break and to visit the sunscreen station.  I ran to my bike – a testament to clear lungs and excitement for the rest of the journey – put my race belt (GPS tracker) on, said a few words to Amy, and ran with my bike to the mount line.  I can remember the volunteer at bike mount asking me if I had taken in my recommended daily allowance of salt from the water.  I swallowed some, but not too bad.  It was time for my favorite discipline – the ride.

BIKE (6:19:47)

The Ironman Maryland bike course is FLAT.  I mean REALLY flat.  On one hand, you didn’t get the lung burning climbs that Louisville has at times, but on the other hand you are always spinning.  There are no downhills on the course to use for rest/recovery – you had to go or you’d be losing speed.

The bike starts out along the river in Cambridge for a mile before working its way to a high school parking lot at mile 12 where the first aid station was located.  This would also be the special needs location for lap 2, so it was good to know where I’d be seeing Amy in a few hours.  The crowd here was great, and I came out of there with lots of adrenaline and a head of steam.  After leaving the parking lot, I passed the University of Maryland triathlon team who had the best cheering section of the day.  I’m not sure why their Indian call struck me as so funny, but I got a good laugh out of it and gave them a thumbs up.

The next 45 miles wrapped around the Blackwater National Wildlife Refuge – a waterfowl sanctuary for birds migrating along the migration highway known as the “Atlantic Flyway”.  It consists of over 27,000 acres of freshwater impoundments, brackish tidal wetlands, open fields, and mixed evergreen and deciduous forests.  We saw, and in some cases felt, all of those things on the ride.  I made a point to try and look around more during the ride to appreciate the scenery.  I saw beautiful marshlands, got glimpses of the Chesapeake, and watched some birds of prey on the hunt.

One of the good things about such a slow swim was that I picked people off left and right during the ride.  Big people, little people, high tech bikes, low tech bikes – it didn’t matter.  It seemed like every time I looked down, I was riding 18-23mph, and it felt like I wasn’t working at all.  I enjoyed passing them and noticing their glance to the left as I went by.  Yep – you just got hammered by a chunky guy on a huge bike.  For some reason I hum to myself to pass the time on the bike, and it seems like certain songs just get stuck in my head.  This time it was Varsity Valor – the Kirkwood High School fight song that my daughter plays in marching band, as well as All About That Bass by Meghan Trainor.

When I reached mile 40, the race leader passed me.  I was impressed at how smooth and slow his cadence was versus how much speed he was putting out.  These guys are amazing cyclists!  Around mile 45 or 50, I was passed by a draft pack of 8-12 guys, all very clearly working together.  I had brief conversation with another rider as I was passing him about how they apparently didn’t get the memo on the rules.  I guess these guys figure a few minutes in the penalty tent is worth it when they’re all riding 27-28mph and saving a ton of time.  To me, however, the rules are the rules.  If you want to cheat, then how do you take pride in your race?  I don’t understand it, and had a hard time answering questions from the kids about why they do this.  While I’m at it, the other rules violation I saw was some pretty blatant littering – like taking a bottle in your hand and chucking it over your head into marshland.  Unbelievable.  The Cambridge community fully embraced Ironman being in town.  Why would you blatantly litter in their town like that?    You often see bottles that have rattle out of their cages, or maybe a Gu pack that someone dropped (I lost a C02 cartridge along the way).  That stuff happens.  But purposefully littering is inexcusable.  I debated saying something when I dusted this “kid” (mid 20’s with his neon-framed sunglasses), but decided that I would let karma deal with him.

At mile 58 I came through the high school again, waved to Amy, and gave her a thumbs-up.  Despite some disorientation on my part with where to go, a volunteer took charge, yelling at me to focus on him and walking me through the procedure – this was just what I needed to be snapped back into it.  Another  volunteer met me with my special needs bag where I took a CO2 cartridge (to replace the one I lost somewhere along the way), a bag of peanut butter M&M’s, and a small bottle of Mountain Dew (I ate the bag of M&M’s over the next 40 miles, and only used a few sips of Dew).  Then I walked over to wait for a bathroom to open up for a quick break before heading back out.  I had a moment to talk to Amy to let her know how things were going – she said she had been texting with my training partners (the Honey Badgers) and that everyone was excited.  We took a quick picture, I used the bathroom, and I was back on the road.

Kelly's secret rocket fuel!

Although we had some wind on the first loop, the direction and speed seemed to change by the time I was on the second loop.  Places where I had a tailwind the first time through now had a headwind, and vice versa.  The wind was never really bad, however, which I’ve heard it can be on this course.  The headwinds knocked my speed down to 17mph, and the tailwinds pushed me toward 25mph. 

When I got to mile 70, I could really see how the day had changed.  The tide was up, so there were about 5 places where you had to ride through water 1-3 inches deep.  Amy said that the roads in town also had a lot of standing water due to the high tide during the mid-afternoon hours.  Despite my efforts to find shallow spots to ride through, I was soaked when I got through all of them.  My feet, which I was particularly worried about, were water logged.  There was nothing I could have done about it – my special needs bag, with a dry pair of socks, was well behind me at this point.  There was nothing to do but get those last 42 miles done.

I took the remaining miles in 5 mile sets (my GPS tells me my splits every 5 miles), and they clicked by pretty fast.  I continued to pass people through mile 100 where we made a left turn and headed back into Cambridge.  At this point I would feel a random twinge in my calf – a sign that these legs were ready to be done cycling.  At mile 110, I had full leg cramps on both sides, so I quickly pulled over and unclipped to stretch out.  I took care to ride very easily in the last two miles back to the dismount line.  I handed my bike off to a volunteer in T2 who said he’d take good care of my ride.  I told him to do whatever he felt like, because I wasn’t going to see that bike again for a few months!

As a side note, Amy paid for TBT's bike valet service.  TBT gathered my bike, bike gear and swim gear after the race.  I haven't seen my bike since Saturday, nor have I seen my wet and sweaty clothes.  If you hear anything about a biohazard alert in St. Louis in the next few weeks, it's likely that TBT delivered my gear and I opened that bag!

T-2:  Bike to Run (8:56)

After handing the bike off, I walked to the changing tent and a volunteer met me with my bag as I reached the entry.  Another volunteer came over in the tent as I unloaded my bag and arranged my gear for me.  He was very helpful – but almost too helpful.  I eventually thanked him and said I was good to go.  I changed out of my cycling jersey into a Team Honey Badger running shirt, and I changed socks.  I again carefully dried my feet (no visible blisters!), applied some Body Glide, and changed into dry socks and my running shoes.  I handed my bag to another volunteer and I was off on the marathon.

Run (6:43:16)

The run course is set up with three loops just over 8 miles each.  While it made total sense as a runner, it is kind of hard to explain.  You exit transition and run along the river for a bit and then into a neighborhood.  Around mile 3, you turn around and retrace your steps past transition and into the downtown area.  At mile 8, you turn around again, and head back the way you came to start your second or third loop.  The last time you reach this turnaround, you turn left and head to the finish chute.

As a runner, I thought this was a nice course.  Just like the bike, it was pancake flat.  It also gave you the chance to feed on the emotion of seeing your friends and family 5 or 6 times, and you could draw on the energy of the spectators on the course in the downtown area, or from the Cambridge Blues, Brews, and BBQ street party that was going on downtown.  The only thing I didn’t like was hearing the announcer call out “You are an Ironman” at every spot on the course.  It was exciting to hear, but you could hear it EVERYWHERE – even when you were at mile 3 of a 26 mile slog fest.

I came out of transition knowing that I needed to run that first mile.  I needed to get my legs out of bike mode and into run mode so that I could start my intervals.  I didn’t want to get stuck in the slippery slope of walking right out of the gate.  So, I ran the first mile.  Not fast, but I got it done in 11 minutes.  At this point, we were in the heat of the day – a bright, sunny day with 80 degrees.  I felt myself heating up, so over the next few miles I backed off.  I ran in the shade and walked in the direct sun and the aid stations.

Speaking of the aid stations, they were – as usual – staffed by great volunteers.  One station that specifically stood out to me was manned by the Annapolis Triathlon Club.  I kept drinking Perform and water, adding orange slices and then pretzels to the mix.  I had Gu with me, but thought that might not be a good idea.  Everything but the pretzels was sitting well with my stomach.  I eventually ended up switching to potato chips which worked a bit better.

I saw Amy a number of times on the run, each time taking a moment to stop and let her know how I was doing.  Although I had a watch and knew what time it was, I couldn’t seem to bring myself to fully comprehend the mental math.  I think each time I saw her I asked what time it was, how much time I had.  

I enjoyed the crowd when I made my first downtown turn-around, and worked my way back to the start of the second loop.  During that second loop, I was feeling hot and tired.  I was walking more than I was running, averaging 16 minute miles through this stretch.  I could feel a new blister developing on my left foot.  Every step I took while walking felt like sandpaper.  I ran when I could and curled my toes up to relieve pressure on the ball of my foot when possible.  I was still fueling with Perform, water, oranges, and potato chips, and was still dealing with a less-than-thrilled stomach.  Given my experience in Louisville of being over-caffeinated and having to stop every mile to use the bathroom, I was holding off on Coke until my last loop.

I came past transition at mile 15 and decided I would take my special needs bag (you had 3 opportunities to take it, but could only access it once).  Since my feet were dry, I skipped the new socks and elected to take the M&M’s, cookies, and Dew I stashed in the bag.  At this point in the race it’s about instant fuel to push to the finish, and I thought these things might help.  I managed one sip of the Mountain Dew, half a cookie, and zero M&M’s.  In fact, I stuck the M&M’s in my race belt pocket, and ate them at my desk three days after the race.  At this point they didn’t sound good to me, nor did they taste good either.  I elected instead to grab a few orange slices and reload my Perform and water bottles.

I saw Amy in the downtown area around mile 16 and felt like I was on the verge of tears.  There was no apparent reason other than I was totally exhausted.  There’s a saying often used in triathlon - “Embrace the Suck.”  It was at this point that I gained a complete understanding of this saying.  I reassured Amy and let her know that I was okay – just tired.  In her typical form, she focused on the positive – “You got this!  Just one more lap!”  I again verified how much time I had (despite the watch on my wrist), we took a picture together, and I ran the next mile to the turnaround.  On the way back through town, I saw Amy again at mile 17 and she walked on the sidewalk along the course and we talked.  I said goodbye to her at mile 18, and I was off on the last loop.

At the mile 19-ish aid station I switched to Coke - sweet, sweet Coke.  Nice and cold and full of sugar and caffeine!  It went down easy and I tried a small chocolate chip cookie that they had at the table.  With this combination, my stomach stopped letting me know it wasn’t thrilled and everything settled down a bit.  Go figure!  I walked most of the next 3 miles, unable to will myself to run more than a minute here and there.  While walking, I could feel the blister on the ball of my left foot rubbing more and more – the dull pain becoming a bit stronger now.  As I made my way through the next 3 miles, I kept drinking Coke and eating a cookie at each aid station. 

Duct-tape art at one of the turnarounds

When I reached the final turnaround at mile 21 everything changed.  The lights were turned on – I was wide awake and full of energy.  The combination of knowing I was on my way to the finish along with the sugar and caffeine from the Coke and cookies came together and I was running again.  I dropped from 17 minute miles down to 12 minute miles.  I was still taking periodic walk breaks, but I was running at a 10 minute mile pace, and I felt good from a mechanical standpoint.    

As I went through each aid station for the last time, I made a point to thank every volunteer I could for being out there and helping me accomplish my goal.  Not only were they providing desperately needed calories and hydration – they were providing tons of motivation.  After handing off their aid, they always said things like great job, keep it up, etc.  I reached the Annapolis Tri Club table with about 3.2 miles to go, thanking them and telling them how much I appreciated them.  One of their members walked with me in his black M dot jacket while I was drinking and started asking me if this was my first.  I told him it was my second start and first finish and I relayed a synopsis of my Louisville story to him.  He said that I was basically done and all I had left was to soak it all in.  He said I would never forget this day or the feeling crossing the line, and to cross with my arms held high.  I felt like this was the beginning of the finisher’s chute.  The next 3 miles were pretty much amazing.  Every person I saw was saying congratulations…looking good…keep it up, etc.

I saw Amy one last time at mile around mile 25 and she was excited that I was going to get this done.  Our exact conversation is a blur, but I think I said I knew I had this, was feeling fine, and I verified where she would be standing at the finish.  I got to mile 25.5 at the turn around and instead of a right turn, I made a long awaited left turn with a smile on my face, high-fiving the people who were lining the fence and offering their congratulations.  At the end of this block, I made a right turn for a few blocks of darkness and few people, however anyone I did see was cheering me to the finish.  I could hear the music and see the lights of the finish line ahead, and I could hear the announcer.  I remember taking the advice of someone I met earlier on the course.  He said to be sure there's a gap between the people in front or behind me so that I had my own finish and didn’t have to share it with anyone. 

I reached mile 26 and was running – I think with a smile on my face – as I high-fived all the people who were lining the chute and yelling at me.  I picked Amy out and blew her a kiss, raised my hands, and let out a yell as I crossed the line.  The announcer mentioned that I wasn’t able to finish in Louisville, but was here in Maryland to get it done, and then I heard the words I’ve been chasing for 12 months and 2 attempts – “Paul…YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!”  I pulled on the Team Honey Badger logo on my shirt as a shout-out to all my training partners, and was grabbed by a volunteer who led me to my medal and my finisher shirt/hat.  I moved through the chute to the picture station, and then I was out.  That was it!  After 15 hours and 28 minutes – it was all over.  I was tired, my legs were tight, my foot hurt, but I felt a lot better than I had anticipated after the race.

EPILOGUE

When I finished Ironman 70.3 Muncie in 2013, I knew that I never wanted to try the full IM distance.  That changed when I watched a friend from the St. Louis Triathlon Club (Tiffany Dill) finish IM Louisville 2013 on the live feed.  I remember walking upstairs to go to bed that night thinking that I wanted to experience the finish line of that race.  I told Amy who was watching with me, and she totally understood what I was feeling.

I prepared for training during the winter, keeping my swimming and biking up, reading, researching, and gearing up.  In April, I began my formal training schedule.  I had a lot of highs and lows on the road to Ironman.  I set a number of new distance records on the bike.  I finished the grueling 70.3 at Innsbrook, slogging through the run with K-Mac.  I had a good time riding with my training partners – Kelly, Dale, Dave, Elyse, Susan, Amy, Mary, Crystal, Gwen, K-Mac, etc., and even joined the Tri Club for a group ride.  On the flip side, I DNF’d at IM Muncie 70.3 this year, ending up in the ER with my first experience with SIPE (which they did not diagnose).  I missed a race in Wisconsin because I developed SIPE in a long lake swim, although I still didn’t know what it was.  A visit to my cardiologist verified SIPE and gave me the all-clear to race.  While I was very happy for my friends who finished IM Louisville in August, I was crushed with my failure.

Through the highs and lows, I kept at it.  I’m sure I would have been more prepared if I had a coach or a more formal nutritional plan, but I really don’t care.  My goal was to finish before 17 hours, and I got it done.  Thinking back to my first marathon in 2009, you really have no idea what you’re in for in an endurance event until you do it.  Each one is a learning experience in pacing, nutrition, etc.  It takes a while before you can have a “good” race.  Looking back on Maryland, there things I could have done to shave time and have a better performance – particularly on the run.  My execution was conservative and cautious, but I knew this was my best chance to achieve this goal and I didn’t want to flame out.  With my two kids (14 and 9) and my wife, I don’t have the time to go through another summer of training – it just wouldn’t be fair to them.

The biggest thing I’m taking away from this experience is a silent lesson for my kids.  I do not look like a triathlete.  I’m 6’5” with a big frame and about 30 pounds I wish I didn’t have - I believe the term is “squishy” according to my friend Soozie.  Though all the successes and setbacks, I stuck to my schedule.  I trained hard.  I trained smart.  I failed.  And I ultimately succeeded. 

I want my kids to see that anything is possible – it just takes passion and drive.  If you want something bad enough, WORK for it, and go get it! Everybody likes the thought of finishing a half marathon, marathon, or triathlon, but nobody’s going to just hand you a medal and say there – you did it.  You have to put in the work necessary over the long haul to get it done.

As for the race itself, I would say that if you are looking for a great host community and a great course, think about Ironman Maryland next year.  Cambridge did a great job hosting.  The town was prepared, and their residents welcomed us pre-race and supported us during the race.  The swim course is good, although if it’s a windy day I think it would be pretty rough out there.  If the jellyfish were out in numbers, that could also add a wrinkle to your day.  The bike course is very flat, which could also provide a challenge if the wind whips up.  I thought the run course set up very well.  The finish line is nothing close to Louisville, but I think the other positives in Maryland make it a great option.

And with this, my training log is closed (for good this time!).  Thank you for sharing this journey with me over the past year.  I’ve enjoyed sharing my experience and the accountability it created.  Now go set some goals and knock them out!