Karen’s Ironman Journey Continues

Monday, September 26, 2011

Karen's Ironman Journey Continues

Ironman Wisconsin Race Report - Karen Lipinsky
Like most race days, Ironman Wisconsin day started in the dark. I woke up with a blood sugar of 132 and ate my breakfast of peanut butter and jelly on bread in the room, taking a 70% bolus for it. Those of us sharing the mini-van were set to leave the hotel parking lot at 4:30am. We got dropped off, visited our bikes to add our carbo-loaded water bottles and pump up tires, and put our run and bike special needs bags in the bins by the capital. The nervous energy in the pre-dawn of Madison was palpable and exciting. What a fantastic feeling - the race was finally here!

After dropping my continuous glucose monitor (CGM) in my T1 (swim to bike) bag, I met up with some Team WILD teammates and a couple of friends, and we all began suiting up. Thankfully the clock isn't running when you put your wetsuit on, because it takes me a long time! For this race, I was wearing my insulin pump, which isn't waterproof, in an Aquapac pouch around my waist. I also was swimming with a 100% basal rate of insulin. Some teammates have waterproof pumps, and some left their pumps on the glasses table right by the swim out. My blood sugar an hour before the swim start was 144 and then just before getting in the water was 157, and I ate a gel (25 grams of carbohydrates, or 25g CHO) at each of those times.

I entered the water about 25min before the race start. IM MOO is a deep-water start, so you tread water while you're waiting. With a wetsuit on, this really doesn't take much energy, though. I was intentionally starting toward the back and off to the side of the buoy line, as I'm not a fast swimmer and didn't really need to put myself in the thick of the thrashing mob. I started the race with Karyn Brown - we loved seeing the sun coming up across the lake as we waited for the cannon.

And then - boom! The race started! We could hear the crowd on the shore (and on the top of the Monona Terrace) screaming. At water level, it sounded like most races - some splashing, a little grunting, me counting in my head. Although I had some body contact on and off throughout the race, I never got a big kick in the head or face, and nobody accidentally removed my goggles, so I was quite pleased! This is a 2-loop swim, and I stopped at the start of the 2^nd loop to eat another gel in the water; I took this opportunity to take in the crowds, the swimmers, the kayak support - it was pretty amazing. The whole swim took me 1:51, and I'd anticipated about 1:50, so that seemed pretty good.

I ran out of the water (or rather, was kind of pulled... nice volunteers!) and up to a couple of wetsuit strippers who did a much more efficient job of getting the rubber full-body girdle off me than I ever do J. I started running up the helix and saw my screaming family in their orange T-shirts (my family lives about 90 minutes from Madison and 7 of them came to watch!), and then Tony taking pictures further up. What fantastic energy was coming from the crowd and other racers! I ran inside and was handed my T1 bag, and then into the women's changing room, where a volunteer who knows me (she trains with some teammates in Chicago) helped me out.

My blood sugar was higher than I'd expected in T1 - 263, so I opted to only eat 1 shot blox (8g CHO) at this point. I set my pump to a temporary basal rate of 130% for the next 8 hours to accommodate the many carbs I planned to eat on the bike. I put on my biking things (socks, helmet, race number, sunblock, sunglasses) and ran outside to my bike, carrying my bike shoes. I was handed my bike and scurried to the mount line, where I got on and started the longest part of my day.

While the time in the saddle is the longest segment of any distance triathlon, I knew that this Ironman course was rather notorious for its difficult bike leg, and I'd had an opportunity earlier in the summer to ride the 40-mile loop that you traverse twice in the middle of this course, so I was aware of the upcoming challenge. While I knew that I could make time cutoffs on the bike course, I also knew that I wouldn't have much buffer time and thus couldn't afford many glitches like flat tires and blood sugar issues.

The first 3 hours on the bike I got all my nutrition from one water bottle filled with Ironman Perform powder as well as some Carbo-Pro and SaltStick tablets. In total in there I had 152g CHO and 1000mg sodium. I also drank 3 bottles of water and had 6 SaltStick tablets besides this, so I was on track to have 50-55g CHO, ~30oz of liquid, and ~700mg Na per hour, which was my plan for the whole time on the bike. I train (and race) with a power meter and had a power goal, but I also was displaying my overall speed on the bike so I'd make sure to make time cutoffs. In the first couple of hours my blood sugar stayed high - 324 was the highest number I saw on my CGM, which I was consulting every 30min. I also checked my blood sugar once in the first half of the race - since I was on one of the few flat portions of the course at that time and no other racers were around me, I actually tested while moving. I took 2 different mini-boluses (25% of the insulin I would normally take with that blood sugar) during this period, and for the rest of the bike my blood sugar was in the 150-180 range, which I was happy with.

After the first 3 hours on the bike I was taking a bottle of Ironman Perform from aid stations and drinking one of those per hour, supplemented by one Fig Newton and one SaltStick tablet each hour. One of those hours I hadn't grabbed the right bottle from the aid station, so I had a bottle of water along with a gel and 3 Fig Newtons.

I saw WILD supporters in their orange T-shirts many times on the course. In Verona, around the halfway point of the race, I again saw my family with their cowbells (my dad actually runs an auction business and they'd gotten ahold of an extremely loud dinner bell, which no doubt dismayed those cheering near them, but was great for me to hear!). At the halfway point I was doing great on time, and saw that I could back off a little on my effort on the bike, to save some of that energy for the run. That was a very good feeling for me!

The Wisconsin course has a lot of hills, a few of them grueling... not long, but difficult, and there were people out there with crazy costumes and megaphones helping the racers up those. I'm pretty sure I saw at least one very hairy man in a Viking hat wearing a tiny (2-piece, woman's) bikini and a cape. My second time around the loop there were fewer people cheering on the hills, but my friend Sandy and her daughter Samantha ran me up one hill, assuring that I looked strong the whole time.

I saw my family again in Verona and then turned to head back to Madison. I was starting to really look forward to the run of the Ironman. Not only is the run my strongest discipline in triathlon, but there's also time to interact with people cheering, and to read all the signs on the course. I really like picking up other runners and helping each other through a mile or so out there, too. And I'd only seen my teammate Kathleen so far on the bike course - on the run I would possibly see everyone, since there are many out-and-back sections on the course. I reviewed my diabetes plan for the run, which was to back down to a 75% basal insulin dose and try to get in 40g CHO per hour, if I could. At the last aid station on the bike course, just past mile 100, I waved to friends who were volunteering there.

And then I woke up in an ambulance. I remember asking the paramedics what had happened, and they said I'd gotten into a bike crash in Ironman Wisconsin. I definitely didn't believe them, as I clearly remembered doing a couple of half-Ironmans (that would be last year and the year before) but thought "a whole Ironman? No way!". So evidently it's fairly easy to forget a year of your life when you land on your head in a bike wreck. By the time I'd been in the ER for a while I remembered most of the last year, and even a lot of the race. I still don't remember the crash or immediately afterward, although an eyewitness account says that I was indeed waving (and/or trying to throw out a gel wrapper) and bobbled a little - maybe I went over a little bump? My blood sugar was 179 when they checked it in the ambulance, so shouldn't have been affecting my performance at that point. Anyway, I went down and was unconscious by the time I stopped skidding it's not a very interesting story, so I might have to add a mountain lion to it.

I spent a couple of days in the hospital in Madison. I broke some ribs (they don't know how many, so I enjoy telling people 7), fractured my pelvis, got a concussion, and had a pneumothorax. Also some cool road rash. I don't recommend broken ribs - they're kind of craptastic. Evidently I kept trying to get the hospital to let me out that first night (I don't remember this) so I could see my teammates go through the finish chute and become Ironmen. Eh, the broken ribs could've waited?

All along, I said that if I didn't make it in the race I was going to sign up for IM MOO 2012 the next day. Now, I should perhaps say that I _really_ thought I'd make it! And even if I didn't, I thought it'd be a missed bike cutoff and not a crash that stopped me, so I'd be out cheering on the run course. Alas. Anyway, on Monday when online registration opened for Ironman Wisconsin 2012, Tony was sitting on my hospital bed with me and signed me up (I still couldn't be trusted to type at that point ).

So many things were going right in the race this year, and I can only hope that those elements are also in my favor next year. The weather was pretty darned good, not including severe humidity, strong winds, or rain, any of which would slow me down. My blood sugar, while not perfect, had gotten into a nice groove after the first couple of hours on the bike. My continuous glucose monitor was getting a good signal and giving me reliable data, so I didn't have to stop multiple times to check my blood sugar. I was able to get in as many calories as I had planned on, with no stomach problems showing up. I didn't have any mechanical issues with my bike. My body was holding up just fine (although I understand that I hadn't even started the run, so presumably it would've been doing worse later!). My family was having enough fun that they can probably be easily coaxed to come cheer next year, especially if the weather is similarly nice.

I really was having a great race, until the abrupt end of it. I'd had a huge smile on my face much of the day, thanked the volunteers, high-fived fans while running up the helix, laughed at various silly signs. I'm disappointed to have trained so long and hard to have the season end this way, but I still had a simply amazing journey to and in this Ironman. Being a part of Team WILD (Women Inspiring Life with Diabetes) has been fantastic for me, and being the captain of our IronWILD team this year made me keep all 10 of the other team members in mind throughout my training. These women are amazing. FastForward Sports, my training group, has gotten me to and through all of my athletic goals in previous seasons, and I once again taxed my poor coaches with endless questions and arguably too much analysis as I very determinedly made my way through this season (I take the training very seriously, even if/when I'm the most remedial athlete in the group). Being a member of both of these groups was huge for me, and I cherish the friendships I've gained through them. I loved the process of working my body to the point where I could reasonably expect it to complete a 2.4-mile swim, 112-mile bike, and 26.2-mile run in one day. I didn't get to do that on 9/11/11, but was it a distinct possibility? Absolutely!

Right now, I'm busy with healing. I guess that's a slow process with these kinds of injuries, but maybe I can start water running soon. And before too long, the training will start up again' and so on to IM MOO 2012...

Edward is an Ironman!

Friday, September 09, 2011

Edward is an Ironman!

Today I am an Ironman. I owe thanks for that title to Fast Forward Sports and the team of coaches; Scott Fliegelman, Michael Kelly, Anna Carvill, and Philip Mazza. With their support and leadership I was able to have a successful journey. I was well prepared to handle whatever challenges would come my way, and a few did.

My Ironman took me 14:50 to complete, well above my goal of 13:30. The swim went fine and took about as long as I expected (1:35). I am not a fast swimmer but I am able to keep going.

The bike started fine. In fact it was hard the first 30 minutes to keep myself reigned in. I felt good and I was flying. Eventually I settled down to where I wanted to be. At the top of Richter pass I thought to myself “That’s it?”. It was nothing different than what we had practiced. Yellow Lake at mile 80 was a bit more of a challenge, but not overly so. By then I was getting tired of being on the bike as well as a bit physically tired.

For some reason near the top of Yellow Lake I started to feel a bit of a sharp pain on the inside of my right knee as I pushed down on the pedal, something I have never experienced before. I estimate there was about 45 minutes to go. Luckily this last stretch was mostly downhill. I ended up bringing my power output down about 30 watts and favoring my left leg a bit more to push when I had to. Periodically I would still feel the twinge of pain. I finished the bike portion in the time I roughly expected (6:54).

And then there was the run.

From the start the run was a problem. I could only run a short time before there was a very sharp pain on the outside of my right knee. It is a pain I am familiar with although I have not experienced in many years. It was a pain due to my Iliotibial Band (IT Band) being inflamed.

Of course the pain was a bit of a let down, but I was bound and determined to not let it get the best of me. I used the tools that I had been given by my coaches as well as a few years of experience and figured out a way to manage it all the way to the finish.

I began by walking for 10 minutes, hoping this would relieve the pain.  I even took a break to stretch my leg, but that made little if no difference. It was hard to walk at this time not because of the knee, but because of all the spectators cheering you on. In fact I generally had no trouble walking. It was only while running that the pain would gradually appear. It started out fine and built up over the short time. I stopped when it got rather acute.

I had already planned to do the marathon on a run/walk interval, but I had to adjust my plan because of the knee. It took me a while to figure out what exactly to do. Initially the run/walk was somewhat haphazard, but over time I found a rhythm. I could do short runs, and then I would walk to give it a break. I did not want to push too much, knowing I had 26.2 miles to cover. At least walking did not bother my knee and so I was walking as fast as I could, head up, powering on.

While trying to problem solve I remember a race from a few years ago where I was having IT band issues, but I was able to run well enough to complete a 5K without much trouble. Oddly enough it was better when I ran faster than slower, so I gave that a try. Sure enough I was able to run for 2 minutes of so before the pain became fairly sharp, so that became my new plan. Fast runs (5-10k pace) with longer walks.

As I continued to problem solve I began to follow a rhythm that match what my original goal was, to average a 10:30 to 11:00 minute/mile pace. I would run 8 minute/miles for about 2 minutes, then walk until the average for the lap matched my pace. That worked well for awhile.

And then I started to hit the hills on the back end.

Going downhill ended up not being too difficult. I was able to get the speed I wanted easily enough. Going uphill proved to be a challenge. Even at a fast pace the pain returned rather quickly. Sometimes even walking caused some of the pain. I ended up walking quite a bit of the back end because of the hills.

It took awhile to reach the 13 mile mark, but eventually it came. I had roughly calculated my pace and relayed to my friend Ken as he passed the other way that if he has a chance he should tell my wife I am doing well, but just having some knee trouble. I did not want her to worry that I was not meeting my estimate. I really was feeling great and roaring to run, but my knee limited my ability.

On the way back the first mileage marker I remember seeing was 17. By then the hills were starting to end and I was able to get back on a rhythm of sorts. Still short runs with long fast walks, but I was making progress. At one point I even remembered getting a little emotional knowing I was going to finish. I had found a way to manage what the day had thrown at me. I would be an Ironman.

I stopped at two aide stations, looking for an Ace bandage. Neither had one. Later I saw an ambulance at one of the aide stations and asked them. Sure enough they did, and they wrapped my knee. After running on it for a bit and not getting any relief, I redid it only tighter. Then a bit later I redid it again. It was too tight. Unfortunately it really did not provide any relief.

Getting back into town my concern turned toward how I would finish. I did not want to have to walk across the finish line, so I was careful not to push too hard. I still did my run/walk, but being tired my average time with each one did increase.

The final stretch required me to turn left, head down the street, make a U-turn, then head back perhaps 1/2 a mile. Along this stretch I passed people who were walking and I believe they were never going to run. There was even a group of 5 people walking together. I was determined to keep pushing on and doing what I could.

After the U-turn I took a walk break, but this time I counted 10 steps out load walking as fast as I could, then I ran until the pain returned. I repeated this process two more times. With the final run I picked up the speed and knew there was no more walking. I ran fast and let the crowd and emotion pull me in. I have no recollection of me knee during this stretch. Just pure joy and elation that I was going to finish. I was teary eyed over the last 200 feet. It was a moving experience.

The final time on the run was 5:53. My average pace was 13:29.

Post race I sat down with the F4 team and got something to eat and drink. Now my knee was really complaining and I had a very hard time getting up. At least as I walked it eased up. The next day it was also hard to walk around, mostly because of the knee. By the second day it was already improving.

Looking back on the race I am very pleased with my results. I did what I had to in order to get through it. It was not the run I hoped for, but it was the run I could do. There is only one thing I would change; my first transition was 15 minutes and the second was 11. They sure did not feel that long. What was I doing? I intentionally took my time with each, not wanting to miss something critical. I dumped out my transition bag each time and went through the items. I did a change of my shirt as well. Still, 15 minutes? Well, that is why I call this a “race practice”. We learn from each one, and now that I understand the process much better there are a number of things I would do differently about my transitions. Hopefully I can easily cut them in half.

As for the rest of the race, I think I managed it properly, nutrition and pacing. I don’t think I would change much there. Perhaps little tweaks.

Will there be another Ironman in my future? I hope so. I am ready to try again next year, but I will be giving my wife Brenda a break. This was more stressful on her than it was on me. Perhaps every two to three years I will do one, with her permission of course. We will see.

As for my experience it was nothing short of amazing. I don’t know how you can describe it any other way. I have never been so emotional over a race. Hearing that 13% of the men in my age group did not finish helps me to understand how much of a challenge this really is. On the other hand I learned that this race is very doable if you are properly trained.

Our coaches told us we would be better prepared for the race than the majority of the people, and I can see that. People were passing me hard on the uphills, but I was comfortable and in control. I think they were wearing themselves out. On the run people were plodding along, head down, but not me. I was feeling strong and ready to run.  I had the proper nutrition, the proper hydration, the proper pacing, in order to complete the journey.

My wife gave me a book before the race that contains Ironman race stories. They are inspiring, but yet reading a few of them I got the impression that people were not really prepared for the journey. One person wrote about waking up on race morning, feeling like she was in a prison and had a feeling of dread. I had no such feeling. I knew I was ready.

I was truly overjoyed by the experience. It was something amazing that I will never forget. I had the confidence and the training to get through my day, no matter what the day would bring. It was that training and what we practiced that helped me figure out a solution. I was not going to be walking with my head down as I saw many people do. I was bound to find a way and I did.

Today I am an Ironman. I consider it my greatest athletic achievement yet.