My Detailed IM Florida Race Report
Steve Harrast IM Florida Race Report
Summary
Amazing to meet so many great EN peeps in Florida. The Gulf was a little rough, and although my swim was a bit disappointing, I followed the plan and had a manageable, almost easy, bike and a challenging but ultimately successful run. I scored a 45 minute PR over my 2011, pre-EN carnage in Florida for a 11:15:xx. All things considered, I feel great about my day.
Prologue
This is my second year with EN, and even though I still have a lot to sort out, I’ve made some great strides in race execution. This race was my first opportunity to use what I have learned in a full IM race including my EN nutrition and pacing protocols.
Earlier this year I did the NOS followed by the HIM plan and came out of the basement to do HIM St. George. Summer was a wash--a little training punctuated by life interruptions. In August I began to have serious doubts about my ability to put in the training hours needed for Florida. I was looking at everything that needed to get done at work and home and I just couldn’t make the math work. It was really a struggle for me. After going back and forth, I decided to man up and take it on without recourse. From then on, other than missing one week due to a virus, I did all the workouts for the 8 weeks leading up to Florida. This may have left me a little undertrained, but sometimes you just have to put yourself out there to keep your man card.
Race Week
Stuffing the Car
We started doing Dave Ramsey this spring to clean up the balance sheet. It’s a good thing for us and kind of fun. We sold the house and the SUV--no more hauling around my huge bike box. The only workable option to carry my bike was to pull out my old Nashbar bike bag and try to stuff everything into the tiny car--my bike, my family and all our suitcases. Kind of like a modern version of the Beverly Hillbillies. I didn’t know until I pushed the trunk closed if everything would fit, but it did. We drove about 2.5 hours to the Detroit airport and got checked in after giving a poor guy a jump start in the parking lot—good race karma.
Our Southwest flight was full of chiseled ironmen and arrived at the Panama City Airport on Wednesday evening at about 8:30pm. We got a car, checked in at the Sunset Inn on Surf Drive (about a block from the ladies with the hand cuffs and black leather whips, etc.) and got some groceries. Thursday and Friday in Panama City Beach were the usual drill— build bike, check in, sort, pack race bags, go to meetings, meet coach P at 4 Keys talk, dinner with the team—fun but busy. It was awesome to see the legends of EN.
Bike Ride and Recon Swim Cancelled
Plans for a bike ride and recon swim were trumped by gusty winds. The beach was even closed on Friday due to winds/waves/riptides. I took a little swim with my son in the ocean and found the water pretty warm and not at all uncomfortable. We tried body surfing, but the waves were just wind-blown slop.
Wind and Rain at the Bike Drop Off
Friday I dropped off my bike about 10:30 am before the lines got crazy--and I heard they got really long. I tried to get to things early, but lines happen at Ironman events. You just have to avoid being last minute. It rained off and on all day on Friday and at bike check in the wind was so strong that bikes were blowing off the rack and falling on the ground. My 2009 Quintana Roo is not afraid of the wind and rain, so out it went to hang out with the other brave bikes. Then it rained, no it poured. I was sitting on the sofa looking out the window, and it looked like the bottom dropped out of the sky. Oh, my. I started to regret filling my bento box with open Powerbars.
Friday Lunch at Zen Garden—thanks for the tip, Coach P
Lunch on Friday was an adventure. We headed to the Zen Garden which coach P mentioned in his course talk—my wife, Michelle, likes vegetable smoothies and organic ingredients, so it sounded like the place to go. Can I just say that this place is kind of amazing. It looks like a total mess—like an overgrown greenhouse--but inside it’s actually kind of cool. The dining area opens to a big oriental garden in the back. The garden needs some maintenance, but it’s still very peaceful and unique with a waterfall and a little pond. The food was very good to excellent and prices were very reasonable. My brother-in-law had the fish sandwich which was a huge piece of grilled salmon with veg and sauce on a flat bread bun—it was amazing. The nachos were terrific and my Philly Portobello was very good—I would eat it again anytime. Even the vagabond cat was entertaining.
Friday Dinner—Frozen Lasagna
For dinner I like to eat at home the night before a race. I warmed up a frozen lasagna and was done by 6:30pm. The rest of the evening I sat on the porch, checked team messages and made sure everything was where it should be. My race day gear was laid out in the living room, my breakfast was sitting on the counter and my duffel bag with my tire pump and special needs bags was by the front door. I retired at about 8:00pm local time, 9:00 Eastern (my Michigan time).
Race Morning
I awoke at 3:00am but didn’t get out of bed until the alarm went off at 3:30am. I went straight to the door to check the weather. The sky was clear and the wind had calmed down but I could still hear the surf pounding. Hmmm…it crossed my mind that the swim might be delayed. As it turned out we just went in the water, started punching and kicking each other and got ‘er done. Honestly, the World Boxing Federation should get a cut of the fees from these races. My morning was just like any big training day except that I was up a little earlier and breakfast was bigger. I ate my applesauce, bananas, whey protein and perform. Normally I have trouble pounding down that much volume, but it went down okay. At 4:30 am I stepped out into the dark and still morning to walk the 1.2 miles down Surf Drive to transition. I felt good, like I was as prepared as I could be. Yes, I felt very good.
I dropped my special needs bags at Alvin’s Island and headed over to T1. In T1 I found that that my Powerbars had soaked up the rain very well and turned to an oatmeal-like mess held together by rice paper. I scraped their gooey mess out of my bento box and unwrapped a new bar from my pocket—I was going to eat a power bar on the bike if I had to mug someone to get it. The toilets were open with no lines, so I took advantage and camped out. By the time I came out there was a long line. Sorry about that folks. I thought nobody else needed these. Funny how lines form spontaneously at Ironman events. Eventually I went around to the pavilion to get into the EN team picture, but Ironman had appropriated the area to serve volunteers food. A couple of EN peeps came and went, but the picture never happened. NBD.
The beach was open by now, so I decided to go down and get wet before the swim start. I was wearing my entire EN kit including arm warmers and heart rate monitor under my wetsuit. I planned to put on nothing in T1 that I could wear into the water. I went for a short swim, very short. The surf was still significant and there were breakers near the shore. The new safe swim initiative ruined my strategy of lining up to the right of the other swimmers to find clear water. The problems was that the initiative caused swimmers to spread evenly over the shore. And because we all had to fight through the surf, it was difficult to get away from the group.
The Swim 1:27:xx (slow, but I met a lot of people)
I lined up around where the 1:20 swimmers were seeded and pushed into the surf when the cannon went off. It was a slugfest. I’ve been through this drill before so I was on the lookout for the breaststrokers’ feet of fury and the panicked flying fists of death. The next hazard was the converging swimmers. Apparently my charisma made people on both sides of me want to be closer. Several times swimmers around me converged and squeezed me like a tube of toothpaste. I pushed them apart but they only wanted a bigger piece of me. Sighting was made difficult by the swells so I had to follow the masses as we kicked, hit and squeezed our way through the Gulf. Second lap was the same as the first, slugging it out with my friends and meeting new people everywhere.
T1: 0:08:xx
There was a backup getting up the beach after the swim, so I had no choice but to walk SLOWLY. After getting my wetsuit stripped and picking up my bike bag, I put on my socks, shoes, helmet and sunglasses in the lot outside the T1 “tent” avoiding that sticky indoor bottleneck. As I put my shoes on I found my bike computer stuffed inside as a reminder that I needed to turn it on and put it on my bike. I still had to walk through the “tent” and drop off my swim stuff, and as I did I passed about 200 people trying to get dressed. Very, very satisfying to just walk by 200 people. How often does that happen? Just enjoy those chairs a little longer, folks.
The Bike: 5:19:xx; Let’s Pass 1,116 Bikes
Now, maybe I dreamed it, but I think someone brought me my bike when I came out of the changing “tent.” I don’t remember exactly; life was coming at me fast. Somehow I got my bike in my hands, and I followed the masses out of T1. I made my way past the mount line until things cleared a little, moved to the left side and got mounted for my ride without getting hit or falling over. Again, you gotta enjoy the little things.
When the bike started the temps were still just a little bit cool, maybe in the upper 60s. Not bad at all. It’s going to be a good day. As soon as I was on a straight road I started my Core Diet nutrition—Powerbar the first hour then Cliff Bloks for the remainder; drinks of Perform every 10 minutes for about 450 calories per hour. As I rode along Front Beach Drive eating my Powerbar and ignoring all the other cyclists I focused on normalized power, 3 second power and heart rate. Bikes were thick, but I just watched my power and tried to find a way to do less. When we came to the bridge and some folks hammered it up, I was tempted to follow, but my power meter held me back. When I needed to pass, I tried to do it without spiking a lot of watts. When my normalized power was above my goal, I would just ease off until I got it back down. I peed twice on the bike, once at mile 20 and again at special needs. Somehow I got over the grossness of peeing in my kit, so now I am fully prepared for old age and diapers.
The worst part of the ride is a ten mile stretch of Bennett Road where there is no smooth pavement. I mean it is really jarring. I saw more bicycle flotsam and jetsam here than anywhere else on the course.
Riding back into town the winds were behind us, and it was a pretty happy ride. One guy kind of annoyed me by passing, then slowing down to stretch, then passing me…over and over again. On the run course I saw him several times too.
T2: 0:05:xx
I got my bag and went to the back of T2 where there were plenty of seats and volunteers. I randomly chose a seat and a guy was there like a genie out of a bottle. This guy was great—he opened my bag, turned on my watch, laid out everything in front of me. I was just amazed that this guy was sacrificing his time to help me and obviously knew what he was doing. It was clip and zip and I was out the door. I made a stop in the toilet for the third pee of the day, and I was on the run. If I hadn’t peed, this would have been a 3 minute transition.
The Run: 4:13:xx of adapt and survive and pass 188 people
Now I had debated the run strategy with myself and decided that I would follow the coach and do the Z1 +30 seconds for the first 6 miles. The math worked. If I could avoid walking just one mile I was earning an ROI. So I kept checking my watch and sure enough, my legs wanted to go too fast. So I held myself back, let people pass and remembered mile 18. That is where the race starts. Just get yourself to mile 18. My job for the first 6 miles was to get my nutrition stabilized and set myself up for a strong run. I had a gel flask and planned to continue drinking Perform at each aid station.
And here is where the trouble began. I began to feel that my nutrition was not going through me. My stomach was getting hard which progressed into heaves. I couldn’t pound down anything else. I was in trouble. I was still on my +30 pace somewhere in the 4-5 mile range, but clouds were gathering. I didn’t see how I would make the bump to a stronger pace with the way my stomach was feeling, and I didn’t know what to do. Knowing coach P would be at the entrance to the park, I decide to consult.
At the park entrance I pulled over and told coach my situation. He suggested slowing a little and sipping coke until my stomach settled. Okay, that was something I could try. I slowed a little and at the next aid station I tried coke. Okay, not bad. Again at the next station. Still okay. Yes, this seems to be tolerable. So away I ran drinking colas at each aid station. Once or twice I also tried chicken broth, but I started having heaves again, so I went back pure cola. For 20 miles, other than experimenting with chicken broth, it was cola.
I had heard about the suck, and I thought “how much suckier could this get?” Mentally I was in an okay place, but I was running on a razor thin edge between holding the pace (such as it was) and nausea. If I felt any worse I would have to stop, and that was my goal—don’t stop. And so it went until mile 18—no worse, no better. Then I was at mile 20, only a 10K left. I heard people shouting “go EN!” from all kinds of random places. Very, very cool. Then I’m on Surf Drive and I know I’m going to make it. The sun is setting and the air is feeling cooler. Yes, I’m going to run this bad boy in. Success in the bag. Enjoy the ride. I see my family at mile 25 and get a nice lift. Out onto Thomas the crowds are more than amazing. At the split off to the finish I can’t describe the feeling of drifting into that right turn and heading into the chute.
But wait, call the police, there’s about to be a mugging. There’s a guy in front of me who keeps looking back over his shoulder to see if anyone is coming up like a little wildebeest left alone to cross the Serengeti. I wouldn’t have bothered except I can see his age now and he’s in my age group. So my legs take off and I’m flying by this guy. Then there’s a couple more that I pass after him and I’m clear all the way to the finish. The lights are bright and I’m flashing peace signs and doing high fives like a pro. Then I hear—“Steve Harrast from Mt. Pleasant, Michigan: You. Are. An. Ironman!”
You Haven’t Left is All on the Course Unless You go to Medical
At the finish line who should catch me but Joe Machette’s wife, Gen. I was on fumes, so she walked me though, got me some water, made sure my medal was facing forward for my picture (made the guy take a second pic), all that great stuff that I couldn’t do. Joe, you are a very lucky man.
I felt so good--until I didn’t. I sat down but I couldn’t get my breath. I just couldn’t stop panting. Weird. Problem, how does one stop panting? I thought it would pass, but it didn’t. Then I started feeling light headed. Okay, it’s time to find medical before I pass out. So I walked back over to the medical tent and checked in. These people are AMAZING! They watch me, then they put me on a cot and within a couple of minutes I’m draining an IV. Two IV bags drained and I am feeling human, not great, but human again. My wife, Michelle, bless her, picks me up and gets me to the car. Later that evening I came back with my brother-in-law, Ray, to pick up my bike, etc. There’s an informal gathering at the Mellow Mushroom where I get to thank coach for his help on the course and see the Withrows…thanks for inspiring me; I’m going off recreation sugar again very soon. Tired, I go back to the condo, pack my bike and try to get some sleep. I’m totally not sleepy, but I lay there listening to the sounds of the finish line. I can hear them shout “…you are an ironman!” I get up and go outside in the dark. People are still coming down Surf Drive walk-jogging in their glow necklaces. I am in awe. Wow. That’s motivation. That’s wanting it. That’s tenacity.
The next morning we packed the car and rolled down Front Beach Drive toward the airport. The Gulf is as smooth as a lake.
Comments
@Paul, honestly, if I were to do this again tomorrow, I would line up behind the sub 1 hour folks and swim inside the buoys or on the line. There are just too many people off to the right of the buoy line. In 2011 when I swam from the wide right, it was just me and a couple of friends over there. Now it's a solid crowd of people from east to west. IMHO better to get behind the fast swimmers and swim close to or inside the line rather than swimming a longer distance with slower swimmers. FYI, I also felt too warm in my full suit. Going to look into a sleeveless for these 72+degree swims.
Steve super report, I like the positive spin and feelings you announced at the start, even though you later admitted to some difficulties on the run. I also like the way you took full advantage of our EN mojo - beyond the training, and the race excution knowledge, the value of team support before, during and after a race as difficult as an IM can not be overstated.
I'm wondering if 450 cal/hour, especially in the last two hours, on the bike, is a bit much for your GI system to process?
And, yes, CONGRATULATIONS on your PR. It won't be your last.
@Al, on the nutrition, those are my thoughts exactly. Coming off the bike I felt full, probably too full. Then I tried to pound down more perform and got some nausea and heaves. I'm thinking of dialing back the solids 50% so that I only consume about 350 calories/hour. If this clears the stomach during the bike, then I can drink more on the run and avoid dehydration. I appreciate your thoughts.
@Kim, thanks. Best of luck in the OS. Gotta love the OS.