The first is Faris Al-Sultan, World Champ 2009 discussing being an Ironman. Just watch from 3:18 for one minute.
The next is hilarious and probably explains the Ironman better.
I started road racing back in the early 90s and was a very decent competitive 5k-10k local runner. I had raced many races in Michigan and made the podium for my age group in most of them. However, most of the guys I raced with pushed me up to the longer races. Eventually I raced a half marathon in decent time of around 1:20ish. Moving up with the other guys to marathon, I did way too much training on concrete. I raced in about six or so marathons, but always had calf problems a little after half no matter whether I held back or went out hard. My best time was just under 3:25 with a few just under four hours. I decided that I would not do another marathon unless it was in an Ironman. At the time I had never done a triathlon and never dreamed I would.
With calf injuries and having some national class runners at KCI and with the Windsor Legion team, it was time to just hold the stopwatch. I gained a few pounds and went from 175 to 205 and Soph called me fat. She was right. So, in the summer of 2006, I started pushing Erika in the stroller, swimming a bit in the lake and doing a bit of biking. At the end of the summer I thought I should consider getting a real bike and shoot for doing a triathlon the next year. No need to bore you with what happened in the years leading up to the Iron Distance race, but I did get back into shape.
I had done several sprint triathlons (my strength) and three half Ironman races prior to racing the full. My training this summer involved six days a week with a total of nine or 10 workouts per week. My longest workout week was over 16 hours. My longest swim was 1:21. My longest bike was 5:30. My longest run was 2:40. My longest brick (bike and the run immediately afterwards) consisted of three hours on the bike followed by a one hour run.
Race Day - Cedar Point Rev 3 - 9/11/2011 - Wake up - 4 AM
Actually, I beat the alarm and got out of bed at 3:57 a.m. I turned the alarm off and headed to the bathroom. I took a shower, which is a weird endeavour before a 12-hour sojourn of sweat, but I like to be awake. Next I ate my breakfast. It consisted of one and a half bagels with jam and peanut butter, one muffin, one banana, one cup of applesauce, some pretzels and a bottle of Gatorade.
It was now five o’clock and it was time to walk down the beach to transition to hang up my swim-to-bike bag and bike-to-run bag and also hand in my special needs bag for half way during the run. I did not use my special needs bag for the bike as I figured it would lead to chaos. I put my bottle of water and Gatorade on the bike and walked back to the hotel. By now it was about six. There should have been time to relax, but my stomach was doing flips. Not sure if it was butterflies or GI problems, but I had four potty breaks before race time. I realized from the morning sports news that U of Michigan came back to win against Notre Dame in football and felt a bit happier.
At about 6:45, we headed down to the start to watch the pros set off. They were to start 15 minutes ahead of us age groupers. Being outside and getting some fresh air, I started to feel better. Being the tenth anniversary of 9/11, the beach was seeded with hundreds of US flags. The American national anthem was sung and the pros were off, men first, and then the women. It was time to enter the timing mat and wait for our turn. I was able to talk to Sophie for a bit; I had talked to the PA announcer the day before and he let her right up near the start.
When the gun went off, I just jogged in the water until it was chest deep. There was no need to go out fast and fade anyway. About 50 seconds in, it was time to swim. Man, did I get beat up! I was punched and kicked for the first 43 minutes and, just under 900 breaths later, I had one loop under my belt. At the end of the loop I was able to stand up and walk for about a minute as it was too shallow to swim and the water was black. In the next loop, swimmers had spaced out more and there were not as many collisions. At about the 5/6th marker we headed to transition and I was breaking down. My stroke was laboured. I got out of the water after just under 1900 breaths or 5700 strokes. My time for the swim was 1:30:34 and I predicted 1:30. I would later find out that I was in 225th place overall and 33rd in my age group.
As I ran (or should I say jogged) into transition, I noticed the wet suit strippers. (Not what you were thinking!) I came out of the water and had my wetsuit already down to my waist. If you lie down, they just help by grabbing your wetsuit and ripping it off your body. I next ran into a port-a-potty and took care of business. Thirty seconds later I was off to get my swim-to-bike bag. It had been hung up earlier on peg 272, which was my bib number. I went in the change tent and I dumped out the bag’s contents and put my wetsuit in the bag. I had a gel for nutrition and an aspirin for the pain I was about to endure. I grabbed my bike shoes and ran barefoot to my bike where I put on my shoes. This annoyed me, as normally I have my shoes clipped into my bike’s pedals and just go. No biggie. Running the bike out to the mount line, I was off! My transition for T1 was 5:20 and I predicted 5:00. After T1 I was in 200 place overall and 32nd in my age group.
The cycling part of the race is 112 miles (180 km) in length. I knew some of the course from doing the half here last year. By that point, the weather was partly sunny, so that was great. I pedaled off and kept count of the people that I passed and the people that passed me. Every 10 minutes I would drink two sips of water or Gatorade that I had packed on my bike frame. Every half hour I would have half of a power bar (cookies and cream) that I had rolled into balls and stuffed into zip lock bags; they were placed in the Bento Box attached to my bike frame. At first, time seemed to be zipping by, and I completed the one and a half hours of the bike course without real difficulties.
In fact, things were going so well that I was worried that I was passing too many people. I decided that I was going to change my strategy. Normally, I race using my computer as a guide of when to change gears. If my cadence falls below 85 rpms, then I know that it is time to switch to an easier gear; if my cadence rises above 95 rpms, it is time to go to a more difficult gear. I decided to change these parameters to 90-100 rpms. This may seem like a small thing, but it forced me to race in a slightly easier gear. This, in turn, probably slowed me down 10 minutes during the cycling portion of the race, but I was striving to keep my legs fresh for the run and that was all I was worried about. As far as nutrition went, I had three hours worth of power bars with me!
I would pick up water bottles and Gatorade bottles on course at the aid stations every 25 kilometres or so. I also decided to put two bottles of Liquid Shot in the pockets of my race shirt. This would be my nutrition for the rest of the bike race. I choose to carry this instead of putting it in my special needs bag that I could pick up at the halfway point. I am glad that I did because when I got there, the disaster I had anticipated came to pass. They are supposed to have spotters up the road read your bib number and call ahead to tell the volunteers who is coming in so that they can hand you your bag. In theory, this is a great idea, but I decided this would not be practical. As I drove by, I saw at least 15 guys off their bikes looking for their bags!
The rest of the bike portion of the race was pretty uneventful. Watching the occasional person changing a flat, I prayed that I would not be next. I also saw people run out of the corn fields back on to their bikes. I assume they were doing what most people do every six hours or so. Not me, though – I had no intention of wasting time. I would save that for transition. Upon reaching the second transition (T2), I was in 135th place and in 19th in my age group. My total time was 5:54:04 and my predicted time was 6:00. I was very happy to be off the bike and feeling actually pretty good.
Into transition, I racked my bike and got my run-to-bike bag. It was nice to run again. I sat in the change tent and put on my shoes and a load of sunscreen on my shoulders as it was starting to get hot and sunny outside. I fired down a salt pill and an aspirin, as I was sure my legs would need them. I found Sophie, and we talked as I waited for one of the four port-a-potties to open up. A volunteer said that there was one at mile one, but I remember from last year’s half that there was only one. I got lucky last year, in that there was nobody there, but I was not going to take that chance today. Thirty seconds later, one opened up, and thirty seconds after that, I was on the road. After a quick kiss with Sophie, I was actually running. My running legs felt way better than they did at the Half Ironman in Racine Wisconsin in early July, so I was rocking! My transition was 6:05 and I had planned on 5:00 - oh well. However, I had moved up to 130th overall and 18th in my age group. Again, I did not know any of this.
In my first 11 miles, I was under 9:00 a mile except for one, but I think that was off. I felt good, but I am always aware of my left calf cramping. Also, I do respect the Marathon as she is to be treated with the greatest deference, especially after about seven and a half hours of fun. I planned on eating Cliff Rocks (basically high powered Gummy Bear nutrients) at every aid station (roughly every mile) so I could knock them back with a cup of water and a cup of Gatorade. A third cup went on my head to cool me off. However by 11 miles my stomach was getting the best of me and I wanted to vomit. There are two choices here: throw up and hope you can recover and not have to drop out, or stop eating and know that you will slow down. I chose the later. When I completed the first loop and received my special needs bag I did not take out my Liquid Shot, which was to be my fuel, but did take another aspirin. I could not imagine trying to stomach any more nutrition. Also, at the turn around I expected to see Sophia, but she was not there; however, I had to keep moving.
Now it was time for the second loop. After about 600m, we crossed the street and I heard a car honking and I was about to shoot them the finger, thinking, "Man, just let me cross the road." About 30 seconds later, there was the Hummer with Soph driving by. She tailed me in the parking lot across the street for 30 seconds or so, and that was a nice distraction. I knew the course and prayed I would not blow up. I did slow down noticeably by mile 14. I had yet to walk and I knew that a 12 hour Ironman was possible as long as my calf did not explode (which had happened in a few marathons). I did not walk until mile 22 where I walked each aid station until the last one where I knew I should not stop. My mile splits from my watch were:
1) 8:11 |
2) 8:26 |
3) 8:19 |
4) 8:31 |
5) 8:47 |
6) 8:34 |
7) 8:50 |
8) 8:37 |
9) 9:03 |
10) 8:09 |
11) 8:51 |
12) 9:04 |
13) 9:02 |
14) 9:11 |
15) 9:23 |
16) 9:13 |
17) 9:28 |
18) 9:57 |
19) ? |
20) 10:10 |
21) 10:19 |
22) 10:52 |
23) 10:46 |
24) 10:21 |
25) 10:25 |
26) ? |
After crossing the finish line they tried to give me my finisher’s medal, but I said, “Give it to the woman over there as she deserves it for putting up with me for the last few months.” However, I did take my finisher’s shirt (not as nice as last year’s). I was pumped for about five minutes. After that, pain and the emotions of the day hit me.
My finishing time was 11:41:07. This was 1:07 off my predicted time. My finishing place was 135th overall and 6th in my age group. Not too shabby, but I think with a bit harder bike and if I had not have had GI issues, I might have been 3rd in my age group. Who knows? Anyway, it was fun. By the way, after having a bit of food on the way home, I woke up the next morning at 165 pounds. I lost over ten pounds; I knew this, as, at the mandatory weigh-in before the race, I was 178 with my jeans on and no shoes.
I thought I would put another funny one in.
Teachers only
