Saturday, September 25, 2010
Scott FINALLY posts his Ironman Canada report!
FastForward to Ironman Canada 2010
By FastForward Director, Scott Fliegelman
This would be my 4th go at the Ironman distance; Canada 2003 (10:39), Florida 2005 (10:29), Coeur d’Alene 2007 (DNF, saga here), and came on the heels of six fabulous months of training and a wonderful two-week family trip. Thank you Fliegelmans, Goodmans, and Schorers for a perfect taper, including a few extra pounds that I would surely use on race day! I was well rested, plenty fit, confident in an intelligent race plan, and extremely excited to share the whole experience with my F4 teammates, Liz, and Brodie. I was specifically giddy about the out-n-back run course, where I’d have the chance to see each and every F4 athlete, whether finishing with me or just getting started on the run.
My goals for the day were mostly “process” goals, and had little to do with time. My #1 goal (other then safety) was to arrive at the finish line feeling as if I had just used up all of my hard-earned fitness and executed a brilliant race tactically. If that happened, and IF the weather was not a factor, then it may have been likely that the time would be somewhat near the ten-hour mark. Another goal I had, but one that would not consume me during the race would be to qualify for the World Ironman Championships in Hawaii this October. It is fruitless to use up any energy over this goal, as qualifying is based on your results within your age group, and there is nothing you can do about who else may show up that day, and how fast they might swim, bike, and run. Surely, I’d planned to run down anyone in sight over the final miles, but that was about all the thought I’d planned to give it on race day itself.
Don’t get me wrong on this; I actually really like having “Kona” as a motivator throughout training. I see it as a blessing and a curse that I may have just enough genetic ability to perhaps someday qualify, but I’m not too caught up in the mania, as are some others. I’d like to qualify, and expect I will, but I don’t really care if it is five or ten years from now or more, as I plan to be enjoying this sport the rest of my life and have confidence that it will all come together on that one special day… someday
August 29th, 2010 was not to be that day unfortunately. The morning was perfect, other than the interminable body marking line that Jen and I chose to stand in. The weather was sunny and comfortable, and the energy in the air was exciting. After a three-year hiatus from Ironman, I was excited to be back in the game!
I found the F4 crew before the start, and lined up for the swim toward the front and left along with Dirk, Win, Ron, Michael, and Philip… all strong swimmers, and teammates I’d hoped to see throughout the day. The cannon fired and I swam aggressively for about 200 meters before aiming to “settle in” amongst my 2,800 fellow swimmers. Despite a high level of contact with others, I was relieved to be experiencing far less distress than I did in my last Ironman, when the very cold water and choppy waves nearly sent me back to the beach after the first five minutes.
The other F4 guys were no longer in sight, and likely were able to get out just ahead of a huge pack that seemed to swallow me up. The contact wasn’t awful, but there was literally nowhere to go for the rest of the swim… forward, sideways, or backwards. So, I settled in for a somewhat comfortable 1:07 swim… just about the same time I swam in 2003, and felt pretty good about it as I ran into T1. I suggest to my athletes, and personally adhere to a philosophy of evaluating one’s swim based on non time-based feedback such as minimal effort and anxiety, strong and smooth strokes, no major setbacks, etc., which described my swim nicely. I stayed pretty focused throughout the hour+ by thinking back on all those early Wednesday morning swims with Michael, the Sunday morning 7 am sessions with the F4 team and Lance’s excellent coaching, and how they were all finally paying off. I don’t really love swimming, but I do love triathlon and currently they make you swim in triathlon… so I swim. If they ever offer “a set of tennis”, bike, and run, then I’ll be the first one to sign up!
Transition was smooth, as I stuck with my plan to avoid the super-crowded and steamy changing tent, and used a bench around the back instead to put on my shoes and helmet, while leaving my wetsuit and goggles in my T1 bag with a friendly volunteer nearby. I spotted an empty port-o-let on my way to my bike and decided to empty the bladder before I’d begin to methodically refill it with the contents of my 72 oz. Camelbak… a mixture of water, a bit of Carbo Pro, and three vials of The Right Stuff, a highly effective rehydration product I’d been using for the past month or so.
The first hour of the bike was great… low heart rate and RPE (rate of perceived exertion), and power was comfortably hovering around 170 watts as planned for this stretch. Mclean Rd. had some steeper sections, and I thoroughly enjoyed watching the ‘paste-eaters’ hammer away from me, only to come right back a few minutes later clearly fatigued from the effort, while I maintained the same steady effort all along… thereby burning less ‘matches’ in the process.
Once back on the flat and fast section toward Osoyoos, however, I got sucked up by a massive pack… perhaps the same gang that so wanted my company during the swim. I spotted a Boulder athlete, Diane, who would go on to take 2nd in her age and a Kona slot, who at that time was getting a little annoyed about the drafting action going on around us. I tried to calm her down a bit and suggested that she not waste any precious energy or anxiety over it, as there was pretty much nothing that could be done about it. As proof, I decided to see if I could ride through the group and get off the front, and needed about 260 watts for the effort. Unfortunately, after about two minutes at this unsustainable wattage, I look behind me only to find a couple of guys glued to my wheel, with another 100 riders being sucked along as a result.
I let off the gas and drifted back to a safe spot on the far right, and stayed patient until we made the right turn and started climbing up Richter Pass. Once again I settled in at just under 200 watts as planned, and watched just about everyone around me ride away up the first pitch. Sure enough, by the time we crested the final climb amidst 100’s of screaming spectators, most had drifted back to me and would continue to do so throughout the downhill to follow and the series of rollers ahead.
About this time I came upon F4 athlete Dirk Walker, who was riding along comfortably. We rode ‘together’ for several miles; although we made sure to keep a safe ‘non-drafting’ distance as wearing the same race kit would surely attract the attention of any officials. Next we came upon F4 Coach Philip Mazza, who looked strong, and seemed to be executing his race plan effectively thus far. He asked how I was doing and I specifically remember answering “I’m borderline hypothermic already”, a response partly to do with the looming dark clouds ahead, as well as literally feeling pretty chilly despite some sun and temps in the high 60’s… not a great sign
We all rode together into the ‘Special Needs’ zone at mile 75, where I replaced my Camelbak contents, as well as added more Clif Bloks and Mojo bar bites to my Bento Box, emptied the bladder, and headed back off in the direction of the dark clouds. I’d lost Philip and Dirk in Special Needs somewhere, so I just settled back into my aero position and tried to eat and drink my way back to some sort of warmth.
Soon enough, as the elevation started to rise, the headwinds picked up and a light rain started to fall. I cursed my decision to leave my rain jacket back in the transition area, as it easily would’ve folded up into my jersey pocket (only later, when recounting this moment to others, did I recall that I had a Camelbak on with a couple of HUGE empty compartments that should’ve contained some foul weather gear). As Colorado riders, we know how quickly the weather can change when riding… especially in the mountains, and that the Penticton forecast of ‘partly sunny and 74 degrees’ did not necessarily mean the same for 40 miles away and a couple thousand feet higher!
My mood and ability to continue to apply pressure to the pedals dropped with the temps, which I watched plummet on my Garmin bike computer from 68 to 51 degrees. The rain really picked up throughout the climb, and my whole body was shivering by this point. The spectators were great for being out there despite the weather, which really didn’t seem to be bothering them much. I noticed the same from many of my fellow-riders, as most did not seem too phased by the rain, cold, and wind, despite wearing the same minimal race clothing as I had on. Note- I’ve subsequently been diagnosed with an under-active thyroid, and one of the many symptoms I’ve had for years is extra sensitivity to cold. I’ve started on a natural thyroid supplement and am already feeling a lot better in a number of ways!
Near the top, I started gazing longingly at the many RV’s parked along the side of the road, as I was sure they were warm and toasty inside. Had anyone actually offered, I would’ve likely accepted a chance to get warm and even take an extra layer, as the 12-mile downhill to come had me rather concerned. As would happen, the aid station at the top had a handful of silver blankets, like you get at the finish line of most marathons. They wrapped one around me and tried to warm me up by their charcoal grill, which didn’t really do much, so I forged on with the blanket (hopefully) well secured around my torso.
The descent was not good. I literally shivered without a break for an hour or more as I tried to keep my bike upright and on the road. Anything over 5 mph was too cold, but I couldn’t really squeeze the brakes all that well, so often times I just had to let ‘em go and deal with the cold and wind until I got to a section that flattened out or I’d manage to brake effectively enough to get my speed back down. While I’d already let go of my primary race goals long ago, it was still ironically disappointing to be struggling at this point to go as SLOW as possible, whereas I’d planned to be exceeding 40 mph for much of this section under preferred circumstances.
The final approach to T2 through town was quite a welcome sight, as the road was pretty flat, spectators were everywhere cheering, and the temps were a little warmer than they’d been up higher. For the past half hour or so, I’d been negotiating with myself regarding what exactly to do once I get off the bike, and pretty much the only thing that sounded appealing was to head straight for Denny’s and a Grand Slam breakfast with French Toast! Other than that, I really couldn’t get my head around doing the run… just yet.
I approached the dismount line and tried to unclip from my pedals, but that wasn’t happening. Apparently I was still pretty frozen and my legs and feet could not execute the instructions my brain was delivering to them. I managed to say the word “help” as I neared the many volunteers, and combined with my pathetic looking blanket and obvious look of utter distress, about four of them easily caught me before I toppled over… thank you! They were able to get one shoe removed from the pedal, while the other wouldn’t budge so they took my foot out of the shoe instead. I had a pretty good chuckle over this when I went back at midnight to pick up my bike and saw a lone shoe sitting on the pedals
As they began whisking me towards the med tent, I managed to tell them that I wanted the option to continue on to the run, so they diverted me back into transition (finally ending my interminable bike split), and the head timer removed my chip and placed it near the run exit, saying “if you decide to continue after the med tent, then just put this back on and head out on the run. Otherwise, just give it back to me and we’ll give you a DNF.” I was happy to hear that, but honestly was still thinking about Denny’s at that point, and may’ve given myself about a 25% chance of actually doing the run.
The medical staff were awesome, and brought me over to the very well appointed “walking wounded’ section, which I guess is preferable to the non-walking wounded area nearby. They immediately applied about a dozen hot packs to strategic locations on my body and covered me with blankets. Apparently, I missed the exact instructions regarding the one intended for my groin area, as a very intimidating and square-shaped woman who appeared to be in charge told me to put the heat pack down the front of my pants “next to my boys”, or that she would do it for me. I immediately complied.
After about 15 minutes, and some chicken soup, bagels w/ cream cheese, cookies, etc., I stopped thinking about Denny’s and resumed my internal debate about what to do next. Three years earlier at IM CDA, I could not continue after the bike for different reasons, and while that decision was the right one at the time, I was really hoping that today would not end up the same way. There was a fast-looking guy nearby who they brought in about the same time as me, and I asked him if he planned to do the run. He said, “No way man… I came here for a certain time and to qualify for Kona, so what’s the point of going out there now.” It was then that I decided that I would definitely be doing the run somehow or another, as this guy’s reaction seemed to clearly illustrate the exact opposite of why I was there that day.
So, 55 minutes after being assisted off my bike at T2, I began my run with a smile and a plan to complete one of my key pre-race goals, to enjoy seeing each and every FastForward athlete (27 in total) along the out-n-back run course. I’d hoped to cheer for a few who’d likely be finishing up a stellar and speedy performance, while others would just be getting started and could use some positive energy. I didn’t really have much of a game plan as far as my own run, but my legs seemed comfortable with about a 7:30 pace over the opening miles, so I just kinda went with that while passing a good number of startled runners who couldn’t seemed to figure out why I was running so fast.
An interesting thing happened about eight miles into the run, when suddenly that pace got a little uncomfortable, and I lacked the specific motivation to ‘find comfort in discomfort’ as I often tell my athletes. It isn’t ‘pain’ per se, but rather those are the sensations that lead to the completion of your goals, and they are to be embraced. As my primary individual goals had already slipped past, and you need to be really focused at this point, I decided to ‘find comfort in comfort’ instead
The ten-minute pace I settled into was much nicer, and I kept that up to the turnaround, having seen Erin and Tom on their way to a sizzling finish. I thought I might catch up and run along with them for a bit, but it wasn’t quite that easy to pick up the pace again, and now the body and legs were really starting to hurt from the cumulative fatigue of the day, as well as the pounding of those opening fast miles. Walking seemed like a good idea, so I did that for a couple of hilly miles, but then I got cold (despite the jacket I’d been wearing the whole run… yea, the same one I should’ve been wearing hours earlier on the bike!), so I needed to start running again just to stay warm. By now I was happy to see a steady flow of F4 athletes on the outbound stretch, and one-by-one I crossed over to their side and gave a high-4 or hug and exchanged some positive energy.
The last F4 athlete I saw was Jen, who was at mile six at 7 pm, meaning she had five hours to complete the next 20 miles in order to beat the midnight cut off for an official finish. I knew that would require about a 15-minute mile, which would be pretty tough, but I told her to stay focused, move swiftly, and that I’d see her at the finish soon.
A few guys around me started doing the math, given that they really wanted to finish before 8 pm, for a less than 13-hour finish. That meant about a 10-minute mile, which was a bit faster than we’d been running/ walking. Well, the coach in me took up the challenge, and I told them to stick with me as I found my best 9:45 pace within a few strides, and along they came. I had a nice little “pace group” going as we came back into town, and the crowds of spectators started to grow. My new ‘friends’ had their goal in hand at this point and they encouraged me to pick it up, having heard my saga and knowing that I could probably go faster if properly motivated. Well, that kick in the ass was I all I needed to get back down to 7:30 pace for the last few miles, with the last mile closer to 6:30 pace. I must’ve looked a little silly at that point passing dozens of weary runners, but I felt I owed it to the race and myself to finish the way I’d envisioned for the past year, regardless of what the clock would read at the end.
It read 12:53:02, nearly three hours off when I hoped to have arrived at this point. While I allowed myself to be a little disappointed to miss my A-goal; to arrive at the finish line feeling as if I had just used up all of my hard-earned fitness, I was feeling pretty good about finishing amidst some rather unexpected challenges, and about a million times better than I did after my DNF at IM CDA three years earlier.
Liz and (two-year-old) Brodie were right there in the finish area with big hugs and kisses, and both deserved a medal for surviving their 13-hour + endurance contest that day… thank you both for being there for me that day, and all season long!
At our Team celebration dinner the night before the race, I prophetically suggested that we all consider ourselves winners for our many incredible accomplishments throughout the season, as you never know what the race day might bring. Fortunately, I was buying what I was selling in that speech, as I consider 2010 to be one of my very best seasons of triathlon. There were some solid race results, some challenging days, many memorable training sessions with the F4 crew as well as solo, and overall I felt like I’d achieved the highest level of physical and mental fitness I could’ve hoped for at nearly 43 years old.
Huge thanks go to the members of the 2010 FastForward Ironman Team, and especially my two co-coaches Michael and Philip for all their help making this season such a tremendous success and a whole lot of fun!