Race day in Louisville began with a 3:30am wake-up call. I ate a bagel and a Cliff Bar and started drinking Gatorade Endurance Formula. My plan was to sip on electrolyte drink until 1 hour before race time, as I have to be careful not to over-hydrate due to my history of SIPE (swimming induced pulmonary edema).
At 4:20, we met the Honey Badgers in the hotel lobby and walked to transition where we completed our bike set-up. I loaded the bike with my hydration bottles, filled my bento bag with salt stick capsules and some nutritionals, turned on my GPS tracker, and - I was ready to go.
We had about a mile walk to the swim venue where we got in line around 5:30 for the 7:00 start. Because the swim was a time trial start, it was first come first served into the pool. We found a nice patch of concrete and set up camp with Amy and our other Ironmates on a bench across from us. I couldn't see the end of the line, but it must have been pretty long because it was 7:06 when I jumped in the river and I believe it was past 7:30 by the time all swimmers were in the water.
The wait for the race start went quickly by quickly. I dozed for a few seconds, made small talk with the guy next to me, took a trip to the port-o-potty, ate and drank the rest of my pre-race nutrition, and worked off some nervous energy. Around 6:45 they collapsed the line so we started to move toward the start area. At 6:50 the cannon sounded and the pros were off. As they came by us, I noticed that their arm turnover was fast, but they moving as quickly as I had anticipated - a sign that the current in the channel was strong.
The head trumpeter from Churchill Downs played My Old Kentucky Home and Call to Post and it was time to go! We worked our way down the ramp to the start (jumping over to the line with the closer pier - saving about 3 swim strokes) and before I knew it I jumped in the Ohio and felt how strong the current was. And then panic - just a little bit. Not the "I can't breathe" type of panic, but just a general uncomfortable feeling. I swam freestyle, but that wasn't working. I did some breast stroke. No dice. I did some side stroke. Nothing. I think that going from 0 to 60 in a fraction of a second just wasn't working for me. After reaching the first marker, I started to settle down, and got into a nice rhythm. I focused on a long reach and a strong pull all the way through my thigh, and I picked out landmarks on the island next to the swim course to ensure that I was indeed moving. By the time I reached the 2nd marker, I was settled in and making decent progress. The only thing I was concerned about was the effort needed to get up-stream in my attempt to hold off SIPE (blood fluid in my lungs).
The swim was like a boxing match. People were grabbing feet, legs, and arms. They were swimming across you, on top of you, or stopping in front of you. Most of the contact was from the inability to see past your hand and wasn't intentional, but you just had to ignore those things and focus on your form. This was by far the most physical swim I've ever dealt with in a triathlon.
It seemed like an eternity before I got to the swim turnaround. After a colossal traffic jam at the T1 marker due to the current pushing swimmers together and into the marker, I made the turn down stream at 48 minutes and TOOK OFF. The current was moving fast, and the markers started coming quickly. Before I knew it I was under a the first bridge. It was that that point I could see how fast we were going by looking at the bridge deck. Next thing I knew I reached the I-65 bridge and I started to work toward swim out. I heard race morning that I needed to start my turn toward the exit early because the current would pull you past the finish. With one marker left to swim, I happened to look up at a high wall on my left, and saw Amy and some friends who happened to notice me at the same time. I gave them a quick wave, put my head down, and I was out of the water in about 1:30. The last approximately 1.8 miles of the swim took 42 minutes while the first 0.6 took 48. Man I loved that down-stream swim.
At 4:20, we met the Honey Badgers in the hotel lobby and walked to transition where we completed our bike set-up. I loaded the bike with my hydration bottles, filled my bento bag with salt stick capsules and some nutritionals, turned on my GPS tracker, and - I was ready to go.
While we were resting, the Ironmates were having fun guessing people's age and getting scared by large packages!
The wait for the race start went quickly by quickly. I dozed for a few seconds, made small talk with the guy next to me, took a trip to the port-o-potty, ate and drank the rest of my pre-race nutrition, and worked off some nervous energy. Around 6:45 they collapsed the line so we started to move toward the start area. At 6:50 the cannon sounded and the pros were off. As they came by us, I noticed that their arm turnover was fast, but they moving as quickly as I had anticipated - a sign that the current in the channel was strong.
Moving toward the start
Swim start was on the right. The course went past the island before turning around
It seemed like an eternity before I got to the swim turnaround. After a colossal traffic jam at the T1 marker due to the current pushing swimmers together and into the marker, I made the turn down stream at 48 minutes and TOOK OFF. The current was moving fast, and the markers started coming quickly. Before I knew it I was under a the first bridge. It was that that point I could see how fast we were going by looking at the bridge deck. Next thing I knew I reached the I-65 bridge and I started to work toward swim out. I heard race morning that I needed to start my turn toward the exit early because the current would pull you past the finish. With one marker left to swim, I happened to look up at a high wall on my left, and saw Amy and some friends who happened to notice me at the same time. I gave them a quick wave, put my head down, and I was out of the water in about 1:30. The last approximately 1.8 miles of the swim took 42 minutes while the first 0.6 took 48. Man I loved that down-stream swim.
It was great looking up and seeing my Honey Badgers
That's me - green cap, white top
Thumbs up for clear lungs!
At the swim exit, a volunteer who was in the water grabbed my arm to make sure I didn't get pulled by the current, and they pulled me up to some stairs that were in the water. I got out, removed my cap (which is always filled with a gross mix of sweat and river water), grabbed some water to drink, and headed to transition. I gave Amy a thumbs up because I didn't cough once on the swim, and I had clear lungs (or so I thought.)
Swim data from my Garmin
I would say 95% of the swimmers were on a brisk walk to transition, but there were typical triathlon hammerheads screaming at everyone to get out of their way so that they could sprint forward. I get it if you're trying to set a PR, but it just seems like there are way more jerks on the course in triathlon than there are in running races.
The volunteers were calling out numbers over a PA so that your bags would be waiting for you by the time you got to your row (by bib numbers). I walked down the row, grabbed my bike bag after thanking the volunteer, and went into the change tent. Wow. The change tent. A gross mix of heat, humidity, sweat, chamois butter, and testosterone. The guys who volunteered in that tent deserve some sort of prize.
I sat down and bent over to dry my feet off and get my calf sleeves, socks, and shoes on, and immediately started coughing - the SIPE that I thought I escaped was there...I had fluid in my lungs. I continued to get dressed and ready for the bike, and grabbed some electrolyte drink on my way out of the tent while a volunteer grabbed my bag for me.
Immediately outside of the tent you were met with a happy group of sunscreeners who covered the only 2 parts of exposed skin - my thighs and the back of my neck. If you have any chafing, you are going to know it when you're hit with sunscreen. I must have rubbed a spot on my neck because I was on fire for a few seconds.
I went to the port-o-potty for a quick bathroom break before grabbing my bike. After a full exhale, I immediately coughed up a mouth full of brown/red fluid from my lungs. I noticed it, knew what it was, and forged on. Today wasn't a day where I would willingly let SIPE defeat me. As I reflect on the swim, I think that first stretch where I was unsettled and fighting against the current was where it hit me.
I saw Amy that I was coughing, but said that I was going to give it a shot. I got to my bike, put my race belt (race number and GPS tracker) on, ate an uncrustable (peanut butter and jelly sandwich), and walked to the mount line. As soon as I was on the bike and up to speed, I felt pretty confident that SIPE wasn't going to stop me - at least not on the bike. My plan was to spin easy for the first 30-45 minutes and to keep my heart rate down. On the flat River Road, my speed was 18-20mph with very little effort. When I had SIPE in Muncie and tried to maintain 14 mph, I was seriously struggling to move enough air to fuel my muscles.
Bike course elevation
Bike course (the loop on the right was done twice)
The first 10 miles or so of the bike were very flat and fast. I used this time to drink a few bottles, eat a Bonk Breaker bar, take a salt stick tab, and work on warming up my cycling muscles. At the same time, I worked to get the fluid out of my lungs. I found that if I exhaled fully I could feel a rattle in my chest that was immediately followed by fluid coming up which I could spit out. Whenever I thought of this on the bike, I would use this procedure, and by the time I was 60 or 70 miles in, I think most of the fluid was gone.
Around mile 11 we began our climb away from the river (near the town of Prospect). I had no trouble climbing and maintaining enough air to power my legs, so I was pretty happy. This initial climb continued through mile 20 which is on a 10-mile out-and-back section of the course. This section has 2 serious climbs where I was riding 6-10mph uphill, and 40-45 mph downhill. At the top of the second climb I came across a devil and grim reaper on the side of the road yelling at us to get up - by far one of the favorite things I saw that day. I'm not sure if the guys below were the ones here this year (this photo appears to be from 2012), but if not they were similar.
There was an aid station at the end of the out-and-back where I stopped to re-load my aero bottle and rear cages since I missed a bottle at the first station. The volunteers were great, and there were spectators filling in the gaps as necessary. I reloaded and used ice cold water on my neck and in my tri shorts (to cool the femoral artery) before heading back - up and down those same tough hills.
We were back on the main road for some relatively flat miles from 27-30 before we began the first of two loops and the climb into LaGrange where there was a festival going on and big crowds were anticipated. I saw lots of fun things in the beginning of the loop - inflatable women, drones, and the St. Louis Tri Club tent where I saw the best signs on the course (credit to Tiffany Dill for the photos)
Words to live by - "Never trust a fart during Ironman"
At mile 40 we entered the festival area. I first saw my teammate Crystal standing off on the left, and then Amy and the rest of the group in the shade on the right. I told Amy I felt so-so (with the SIPE), and kept riding, drawing energy from the loud and vocal crowd in LaGrange.
Spinning through LaGrange with my Honey Badgers in the background!
We got a nice break from the hills between mile 42-47 before 4 tough climbs. When we reached US42 we began a stretch of about 11 miles that was net downhill until we turned to begin our second loop through LaGrange. I said hello again to the Tri Club, stopped to use the bathroom, and took Mountain Dew (which I only used for a few sips) and beef jerky out of my special needs bag. I saw Amy and the crew around mile 70 and rode 28-30mph out of LaGrange - fueled by the huge crowd. I clapped for them to show my appreciation, which made them cheer even louder.
I reached US 42 again at mile 81, and it was time to RIDE. I knew from all the research I had done that I would have a slow bike split until I reached mile 80 and began the descent back toward the river and into transition. Although this stretch still had climbs, my 5-mile segment averages which had been around 15 mph all day long jumped to 18 and 19 miles per hour. I started catching and passing many people who I had been leap-frogging with on the hills.
As far as nutrition and hydration on the bike, I was taking 2-3 bottles of perform at each stop along with a bottle of water. I would cool myself with the water and use it to wash down any food (bonk breakers, beef jerky, Gu), and would enter the next rest area with empty bottles. I supplemented with salt stick tabs every hour, and had no issues with cramping or dehydration - a huge win for me.
One note before I forget - the hammerheads who I saw in swim/bike transition were even more vocal on the run, screaming LEFT LEFT LEFT at people as they made their way by. Good for you if you are pushing hard, but screaming at the top of your lungs shows what kind of a tool you are. I never once had an issue when I calmly said "passing on your left" - the riders quickly gave way.
In the last 30 miles of the bike I developed a hot spot on my right foot from the bike shoes. I would unclip on downhills to give my feet a rest at times, but wow they hurt. I knew from training that things would immediately get better when I took my cycling shoes off and put my running shoes on. I also had some lower back discomfort from being in the aero position, but that was alleviated when I would stretch (standing up or moving positions).
On the flat River Road I started doing the math for the run. I knew my bike split would be about 7 hours and I would have about 7.5 hours left for the marathon by the time I left transition. I was concerned about the heat which had reached into the 90's with a heat index of 100, but I felt that I had plenty of time to walk until sundown before starting my run intervals to prevent overheating.
I was happy to see that dismount line pop up and get off the bike! I walked the bike down the chute while talking to Amy who told me again how much time I had. I told her that with the heat and the SIPE, I may have to walk the marathon, but I would get it done! I handed my bike off to a volunteer when I reached the bike-in marker. The volunteers rack your bike for you while you proceed to grab your run bag, head into the tent, and change for the run. If I thought the changing tent was rough in the swim/bike transition, it was super funky now! The heat of the day and the sweat of the bike made that place tough to take.
After changing, I walked out, got hit with sunscreen spray (hello again, neck chafing), used the bathroom, and began to walk down the chute. I talked with Amy again for a few moments as well as another Honey Badger who happened to be there. We talked about run strategy for the first half mile or so, and then I headed off on my own.
It. Was. Hot. The sun was beating down, and I had no intention of running until the sun began to set a bit. I knew the walking wouldn't hurt, as I would wake my legs up, get my heart rate / blood pressure down, and it would give me some time to eat and drink. I was taking food and fluids at each aid station, and supplemented with salt stick tabs every hour.
As I got to mile 2 of the run, I noticed pain in my left foot, and I felt like I was developing a blister. I ignored it and kept going. At mile 4 we made a right turn and the heat was rough. Thankfully we quickly were in the shade, but the distance from mile 4 until the turnaround at mile 7 seemed to take a long time. My mile splits got slower somewhere around mile 5 because I started to have to go to the bathroom at each aid station. By the time I made it to the next stations, the urge to go was really strong. Some post race research indicates that I was probably over-caffeinated. Next time I'll be using the caffeine-free salt sticks and laying off the Coke on the run as long as possible!
I muddled my way though the next 5 miles, walking by Churchill Downs and through the University of Louisville. With each step the pain in my left foot kept getting worse. I was doing the math, and knew that I needed to keep up a brisk walk - maybe a 15-16 minute mile average - if I was going to be a finisher. The bathroom stops weren't helping, to the point where I was thinking about walking up on the grass and letting it fly if necessary.
At mile 11, I used the port-o-potty and as soon as I stepped out back onto the street, I knew I was in trouble. The pain had gotten to the point where I couldn't put any significant weight on my left foot. I struggled through the next mile walking mainly on my heel and I wondered if it wasn't a blister - had I broken my foot? The pain was that intense. When I got close to the aid station at mile 12, I saw my friend Rachel who had run up from the spectating/finish line area at mile 13/26 of the run course to check on me. Rachel gave it her best effort to get me to move on, but at this point I knew my day was over. I was now walking a 22 minute mile, and there was no way I was going to finish, and the pain was so intense.
Decision made - waiting on the transport van
I found some EMT's on bikes at the aid station and asked if they could help me because I needed to DNF. They got the volunteer captain for me who called for transport for me and another guy who was laying on the ground totally cramped up. Rachel called Amy to let her know I was okay but couldn't continue. A van came a few minutes later and loaded us up. They took my timing chip and I was officially out. We were dropped off at the large medical area at the finish line so I decided to get checked out.
The medical staff took my vitals (which were all fine) and then took a look at my foot. They all said "wow" when my sock came off, and they called a few people over to have a look at it. One woman who travels to all the different races said that was in her top 3 and took a few pictures for her "collection." She showed me the other photos from prior races which were equally as gross. The medical advice was to NOT puncture the blister and let it heal on its own. (I had to drain it on Monday morning as it had swelled overnight and I could put no weight on it at all).
Amy brought my birkenstocks to medical, so I slipped them on and hobbled my way out of medical. As soon as I saw Amy, all the disappointment of not finishing the race poured out. We walked back to the hotel, I took a shower, ate some food, and got into bed. I was shivering as I was slightly dehydrated. I alternated between sleeping and waking up to see my training partners finish their races and become IRONMEN!
I am truly very happy for my friends to get their races done, but would be lying if I said that I wasn't crushed by my failure. Yes, I successfully finished 126.4 miles of this race, but I had been training for so long to finish 140.6 miles.
I said before I started the race that this was it - finish or not - I will not train for another Ironman, at least until my kids are grown. The training takes too much time away from a busy work schedule, and it is very difficult to be a good parent during this process. This was my golden opportunity to become an Ironman, and I fell short. Due to a stupid blister. Ugh.
I fully realize that it is better to toe the line and fail than to be afraid to start, but this doesn't take away the devastation of not finishing this race - not hearing my name called as an Ironman - not getting the medal, shirt, and hat at the finish line - and not going to the finisher store on Monday morning to buy things that say "Ironman Finisher".
And everyone I knew was aware that I failed. They all said nice things - I'm proud of you for competing - you finished more than I could have - and so on. But I know that I didn't get it done, and that will haunt me for quite some time.
So that's pretty much it for race day and for this training journal. Right now I'm focused on healing and recovering mentally and physically. Perhaps some day I can get back to the starting line and achieve this dream.
I'll have some final thoughts next week as I owe big thank-you to a number of people who helped me during training and on race day.
Thanks for reading!
