Mike R's IMNZ Race Report
Mike's Ironman New Zealand Race Report
Short Synopsis: Swim :55, Bike 5:37, Run 3:56, Total: 10:37, 19 in AG, 148 OA
Travel: The 12-hour flight from LA was surprisingly comfortable on Air New Zealand. The airline has the most restrictive (i.e., stupid) baggage rules and fees I've encountered, and the agents don't even understand them. Throughout the trip, we had to negotiate, beg and ultimately pay. Just an FYI.
The 3.5-hour drive from Auckland to Taupo isn't an easy intro to NZ driving. The roads are predominantly single lane, and they roll and wind through countryside that resembles a combination of Northern California brown/green hills and Kansas farmland. We saw cows and sheep by the hundreds of thousands. The rain didn't help either, nor did the jet lag, the left-side driving or the frequent logging trucks coming the other way. That said, it never felt dangerous.
Taupo: The race HQ is in Taupo, a cool little lake town with a bustling 4-block downtown centered around the marina. The venue was seemingly made for an IM: a truly spectacular lake swim that leads seamlessly to a park that fed directly (no silly admin like many races) to the country roads for the bike and the lake-front path for the run. The race finishes right in the middle of the park. Perfect for participants and spectators alike.
Accommodations are plentiful and cheap by US standards - no Placid Shakedown or Madison Bendover here. We stayed in a great condo on the lake - right in front of the swim turn-around and with direct viewing of the bike (2x) and run (6x). Absolutely ideal for supporters who can duck in from the race for the bathroom, a snack, a nap or - as it would turn out - a break from the pouring rain. My condo choice scored many SAU points with the boss. Because of the strength of the dollar ($.70US for $1NZ), the trip wasn't expensive at all (average Coke was $3-4NZ, beer was $6-9, the ubiquitous breakfast specials were all $10, typical main dish $15-25). The people of NZ - especially in Taupo - are remarkably warm and friendly. They all seemed so excited that we chose to descend upon their town. Other than the Thai, the Kiwis are probably the nicest people I've encountered in all my travels. They're probably appalled by our collective behavior when they visit America.
Race check-in: Mandatory check-in on Thursday only. First thing I noticed was that IM Village was very mello. Still lots of fit people meandering around, but lacking the anxious buzz at the typical US IM. The dedicated AWA line got me through in 10-15 minutes. Dropped by the merch tent - $25 Ironman tees? That's less than $20US! Clearly, the good folks at IMNZ had not read Chapter 17. Gauging of the WTC Manual. I scoured the expo for the HR strap I stupidly left at home. None to be found, but two employees offered to drive home after work, then drop off their strap at my condo later that night as a loaner. That is how nice the people there are. Ultimately, teammate Chris Chapman loaned me an extra - thanks again, Chris!
Met up with teammate Leslie Sedlak and rode part of the course, including the steepest climb out of town. Attended the pre-race banquet with Chris. Again, the buzz was pretty mellow for an IM, and much of the crowd didn't seem to know who Mike Reilly was. My take-away is that IMNZ is predominantly an athletic event for the serious endurance athletes of NZ, Australia and SE Asia, with a lot of people racing the event many, many times. It is not as much a bucket-list item for weekend warriors like in the US.
Bike + bag check-in:
As I had now come to expect, checking in my bike and SB and BR bags was simple and seamless. The organization is first rate. Upon racking my bike, one of the hundreds of volunteers escorted me through every step of the transitions. The layout of the TAs is simple and intuitive.
Race day:
Up at 4am, ate my 800 calories, wife agreed to drive me, and she had no problem getting me within 200 yards of TA. Pumped tires up to 80F/85R, took care of the rest of my checklist, and reverse-walked the transition down to the water. Temps were in the mid-50s with pretty light winds. When Mike Reilly described the water conditions as "glass-like," I smiled for the first time that day. The Maori Warriors came ashore at 6:30 to perform their Haka, then the pros went off at 6:45 and 6:46 before dawn. We were then allowed across the mat and into the water to warm up in a very large designated area (another organization plus for the race). The water was cool and smooth - perfect! I got in a solid 10 minutes of drill and threshold work. At 6:56am, I made my way through the thickening sea of swimmers toward the front, settling on the front row about 20 meters to the left of the buoy line. Confidence high, all focus was now on the swim.
Swim - 55:50, 6 in AG, 61 OA
The guy to my right said he was aiming for :53 or :54. He was a bit bigger (taller, probably 175lb), so at the cannon I decided to follow his left hip and use him as a block as we quickly merged with the group at the buoy line. We went out fast and really never experienced contact. When I looked around at 200m or so, I saw that we were part of a small single- or double-file line going right down the buoys. Could not have started any better. The Lake Taupo water is amazing. Visibility is limitless, as you could always see the bottom in great detail. When I did sight a buoy, I would quickly look down, find a rock or plant 50m ahead on the bottom, and just follow that for 30-40 strokes, repeat. Other than that, I just followed the huge bubble stream in front of me. The net result was very little sighting and great focus on . . . just swimming. At 1,750m, we turned right, went 75m, turned right again and headed home. Both turns were civilized, no contact. Unlike the smooth ride out, the water on the return trip included some mild chop. Otherwise, however, the status quo continued and lasted until the third-to-last buoy (probably 500-600m to go), when the steady bubble train in front started to slow and meander left and right. After about a minute of this, I found myself second in line, but then decided to go it alone. I took off and saw that there was no one in front of me for quite a ways. I picked up the pace and, for the first time, felt like I was pushing near threshold. Felt great. Wish all tri swims were like this. When I came out of the water, I heard Reilly mention my name and a 55-something split. PR by a very wide margin. I focused on my swim the last 6-9 months and knew from my training splits and race rehearsal (also 55 minutes) that I had improved a lot (I'll post my swim-improvement plan in a separate post if anyone has an interest) and was pleased to see all the work pay off on race day. The fact that I was 61st overall, including all the pros, but only 6th in my AG, shows exactly how stacked my AG was on race day.
T1: 4:30
I started the 1/4 mile uphill run on green carpet, pulling my wetsuit down to my waist. The run didn't seem as long or as uphill as I thought it would be. Up the final 10 stair steps, I was greeted by a volunteer who yelled, "follow me, Mike!" I heard them calling numbers, but my name? How on earth? Race organizers were just showing off at this point. 20 feet later, the volunteer was guiding me down a row of bags, where another volunteer was holding my bag. Another 15 feet, and I was in the enormous men's change tent. There were only a few racers in there, but more than 50 volunteers waiving for me to pick them. Needless to say, this looked nothing like IMAZ's tiny, overcrowded and understaffed change tent. Sat down, volunteer removed my wetsuit and bagged it, I put on a jersey over my singlet snd arm warmers as I ran out the other end. Helmet and glasses at my bike, shoes on my bike. Most user-friendly IM T1 ever, and the RDs at every NA IM should be required to view how the Kiwis treat their participants. I don't know how my 4:30 for a very long T1 stacks up, but I suspect pretty well.
Bike: 5:37, 19 in AG, 133 OA
The run to the mount line was short and easy, and I quickly settled in along the lake front, turned on my Garmin 800, and waved to my wife who said she would be in our hot tub if I needed her. I noticed very quickly that Garmin was giving me consistent readings of 800-950 watts. Great . . . here we go again. After Mile 1, we started the four-mile climb out of town. It wasn't that steep, as my compact + 23 was fine for most of it, maybe using the 25 a couple of times. As to power, I was just trying to keep things under 1,000. Yes, Garmin, at times you really suck. As we started the descent on the other side, I performed the first of more than 50 recalibrations and/or resets of the power meter. A few times, the Garmin would appear to read accurate wattage (175-190), but it never lasted more than a few minutes, then it would return to absurd numbers (32, 674, 61, etc.). The rain also started during the descent, it was cold, but the wind wasn't too bad. The chipseal was with us the whole ride out to Reporora - mostly it was Texas-style medium bump, with an occasional smooth spot and an occasional bad spot. I got passed by what seemed like 75 riders that first 28 miles, but I chalked it up to their foolishness. And I was too focused on keeping my bike upright. My hands were cramping by the turn-around, due to the cold and the death grip on my aero bars trying to control the bike over the wet bumpy roads. The return trip was better, with the rain tapering off, the temps rising, and the en masse passing coming to a stop. After the long, gradual climb back into Taupo, Lap 2 began. I gave up on power at this point and just went by HR and RPE. I found out later that I averaged 21mph during the first loop without ever really pushing the effort. Good for those conditions.
The second loop was a very different experience. The rain had stopped, but the wind seriously picked up and gave us a strong head/cross wind on the way back out. It was pretty slow going, but I felt fine. And, as if right on cue, I started passing a lot of struggling riders beginning at Mile 67. Around Mile 80, I stopped briefly at an aid station to take off my jersey and arm warmers. The final 28 miles were helped a little by the wind, but it was still mostly uphill and over roads that now felt far rougher than they had during Loop 1. I found myself pretty isolated the last 30 miles. At the top of the last climb around Mile 106, I realized that I had not experienced any cramping or distress at all. In fact, I felt surprisingly fresh. This was either a testament to my conditioning or a clue that I had badly undercooked the second loop. Data would later show that I completed the second loop at 19mph - just plain terrible. When I dismounted, I saw 6:36 on a clock, which told me that I had ridden slower than 5:35. I was a little shocked and mad at my weak RPE abilities (later, I logically concluded that RPE needs to increase quite a bit over the last 30 miles to account for the building fatigue - pretty dumb in retrospect). Oh well, I quickly convinced myself that my easy stroll on the bike only cost me 10-15 minutes and should set me up for a killer run.
The bike course isn't overly difficult, but the bumps, wind and undulations slowly grind on you and require near-constant focus throughout (not a course for daydreaming). Other than the short potions in Taupo, the course is lonely, and the scenery is pretty plain rural. Nutrition was dead on: I ate all my food, consumed 8 bottles of sports drink, and had two good shorts rinses.
T2: 2:07
Uneventful and pretty fast. The bike racks were pretty empty, always a welcome sight. Entered the same bag line, the same tent, a great volunteer bagged my bike stuff as I put on socks and shoes and started running with my Go Bag (hat, race belt, salt and gels). It wasn't my fastest transition effort, but I didn't waste any time.
Run: 3:56, 19 in AG, 148 OA
Thus far, I had dealt with the high of a perfect swim; the frustration of having no power; the discomfort of cold, rain, wind, and bumpy roads; and the disappointment of a slow ride. And, now, a few feet out of T2, Mike Reilly was about to add to the mix. Regardless where I stood, I had convinced myself that I was top 10 in my AG and I would run with that belief until Mile 18 when my wife would be free to give me real data. But it wasn't to be. "There goes Mike Roberts, currently in 19th place in the Male 45-49 age group." Shit! 19th? I probably should have expected such a poor showing, but I was quite content in Make Believe Land until Reilly ruined it. Although I tried to convince myself that I could still do something magical, I think a little bit of Defeat creeped into my head.
The first 2.5 miles are gently rolling along the lakefront. The sun was out, as was the wind. The crowds were numerous and so supportive. They were constantly yelling, "Good on ya, Mike!" (subbing "mate" for "Mike" when the wind blew my bib up). I had to work hard to slow down and keep the pace around 8:30 for the first of three trips out to the turnaround. The last last 2 miles of the outbound leg take you through some residential areas and over some long/gradual hills and several short, steep ones. A very choppy course indeed, not at all suited for a rhythm/cruise-control runner like me. On the way back, I realized why the first 4.5 miles felt so easy: we were now facing a pretty strong headwind. The second loop was pretty insignificant until Mile 15 or so, when my legs just got heavy and I started to slow. It seemed each time I tried to pick up the pace, I would face a steep hill, which instantly killed that effort. At Mile 16, a gel I had just consumed tried to come back up. I stopped and walked for a bit. Dammit. It turns out that run volume is essential for Ironman, and the 20 miles/week I averaged the last 6 weeks due to injury was coming back to haunt me. For the next 6 miles, I struggled physically, and my lap splits showed mostly 9-minute and a few 10-minute efforts. I tried Coke, but for the first time ever in an IM, it had no magical effects. The rain resumed during Mile 20, the winds had increased to gusts of 40mph, and I remember thinking: I am officially no longer having any fun. None at all. My last walk was at Mile 22 when I instantly started to feel better. So, I ran. Up and down, into the rain and wind. At Mile 24 I switched the Garmin field to Time of Day. I fully expected to see 6pm, but was shocked to see 5:20pm. I'm only at 10:20 with 2 miles to go! After a bad ride and what seemed like a walk-a-thon? The negative thoughts that had crept into my head had made me believe that I was in 11-hour territory. Heck, if I could just muster a couple of 9's, I could actually hang a 10:30-something and be plenty OK with that. So, that became the goal. The last two miles were absolutely comical, as I had to lean severely into an insane wind while getting pelted by the cold rain with my hat in my hand. Most of the spectators along the lake front had (wisely) fled. I felt truly victorious when I turned north toward the final turn-around, this time going left toward the finish instead of right for another loop. My wife was there to give me what seemed like the 10th high-five of the day. The finish line at NZ is pretty spectacular, with at least 100 yards of red carpet to the finish line. I couldn't believe the number of spectators still there, in the driving rain, cheering and wanting yet more high-fives. I looked back and saw that the carpet was mine to myself, I slapped a lot of hands, and Reilly gave me some long-winded welcome to the line. But I only remember the last four words.
Post-race:
The race organization was just as good after the race as it was before and during. They converted the large change tent into a bag-retrieval area, buffet and massage area. The mandatory weigh-in revealed a single KG loss, which means I nailed my nutrition all day. My bike was a few yards outside of the tent and, after retrieving that, I was in the nearby car heading home. I cannot stress the quality of the race venue and organization. They didn't overlook any detail and truly cater to the participant. Other than the swim, the bike and run courses aren't anything special, but the venue, organization and people make this a really special event. Oh, and it's in New Zealand.
On the way home, I was really disappointed with my run until my wife told me I did it in 3:56. Again, the negative demons that had possessed my psyche had me convinced that I had run a 4:10 or 4:15. Shoot, I'm OK with a 3:56 on minimal run training, with a lot of walking, on that course, in those conditions. Turns out I maintained my 19th AG position and would have needed to shave 12 minutes to catch #18. The talent at the top of my division was crazy, with a perennial KQ guy getting shut out even after going sub-10. Can't control who shows up.
I wanted to go to the finish line at night, but the rain and cold restricted me to our front porch. When I got out of bed the next morning, I found that I wasn't really sore at all. Other than my bum Achilles and some calf tightness. Unlike my previous six ventures at this distance, I had no difficulty walking post-race. Which, to me, only proves that my fitness level was high and that I didn't push things hard enough if I truly wanted to compete. Oh well. I had a good race, not a great one. We thoroughly enjoyed our two weeks in New Zealand, especially the second half in the South Island. It will surely go down as one of our trips of a lifetime.
As for my triathlon plans, I learned a lot from this race. My plan to take a shot at a KQ in three years when I age up is still on track, but I seriously need to HTFU. I also need to increase my 185 IM wattage to 200 and improve my run durability so that I can run in the 3:30s. Until then, I plan to rest my Achilles, do some local races this summer, stay low on the Strava Leader Board, and then gear up this fall for IMFL, an EN Key Race, with some of my favorite ENers, on a course that I really enjoy.
Short Synopsis: Swim :55, Bike 5:37, Run 3:56, Total: 10:37, 19 in AG, 148 OA
Travel: The 12-hour flight from LA was surprisingly comfortable on Air New Zealand. The airline has the most restrictive (i.e., stupid) baggage rules and fees I've encountered, and the agents don't even understand them. Throughout the trip, we had to negotiate, beg and ultimately pay. Just an FYI.
The 3.5-hour drive from Auckland to Taupo isn't an easy intro to NZ driving. The roads are predominantly single lane, and they roll and wind through countryside that resembles a combination of Northern California brown/green hills and Kansas farmland. We saw cows and sheep by the hundreds of thousands. The rain didn't help either, nor did the jet lag, the left-side driving or the frequent logging trucks coming the other way. That said, it never felt dangerous.
Taupo: The race HQ is in Taupo, a cool little lake town with a bustling 4-block downtown centered around the marina. The venue was seemingly made for an IM: a truly spectacular lake swim that leads seamlessly to a park that fed directly (no silly admin like many races) to the country roads for the bike and the lake-front path for the run. The race finishes right in the middle of the park. Perfect for participants and spectators alike.
Accommodations are plentiful and cheap by US standards - no Placid Shakedown or Madison Bendover here. We stayed in a great condo on the lake - right in front of the swim turn-around and with direct viewing of the bike (2x) and run (6x). Absolutely ideal for supporters who can duck in from the race for the bathroom, a snack, a nap or - as it would turn out - a break from the pouring rain. My condo choice scored many SAU points with the boss. Because of the strength of the dollar ($.70US for $1NZ), the trip wasn't expensive at all (average Coke was $3-4NZ, beer was $6-9, the ubiquitous breakfast specials were all $10, typical main dish $15-25). The people of NZ - especially in Taupo - are remarkably warm and friendly. They all seemed so excited that we chose to descend upon their town. Other than the Thai, the Kiwis are probably the nicest people I've encountered in all my travels. They're probably appalled by our collective behavior when they visit America.
Race check-in: Mandatory check-in on Thursday only. First thing I noticed was that IM Village was very mello. Still lots of fit people meandering around, but lacking the anxious buzz at the typical US IM. The dedicated AWA line got me through in 10-15 minutes. Dropped by the merch tent - $25 Ironman tees? That's less than $20US! Clearly, the good folks at IMNZ had not read Chapter 17. Gauging of the WTC Manual. I scoured the expo for the HR strap I stupidly left at home. None to be found, but two employees offered to drive home after work, then drop off their strap at my condo later that night as a loaner. That is how nice the people there are. Ultimately, teammate Chris Chapman loaned me an extra - thanks again, Chris!
Met up with teammate Leslie Sedlak and rode part of the course, including the steepest climb out of town. Attended the pre-race banquet with Chris. Again, the buzz was pretty mellow for an IM, and much of the crowd didn't seem to know who Mike Reilly was. My take-away is that IMNZ is predominantly an athletic event for the serious endurance athletes of NZ, Australia and SE Asia, with a lot of people racing the event many, many times. It is not as much a bucket-list item for weekend warriors like in the US.
Bike + bag check-in:
As I had now come to expect, checking in my bike and SB and BR bags was simple and seamless. The organization is first rate. Upon racking my bike, one of the hundreds of volunteers escorted me through every step of the transitions. The layout of the TAs is simple and intuitive.
Race day:
Up at 4am, ate my 800 calories, wife agreed to drive me, and she had no problem getting me within 200 yards of TA. Pumped tires up to 80F/85R, took care of the rest of my checklist, and reverse-walked the transition down to the water. Temps were in the mid-50s with pretty light winds. When Mike Reilly described the water conditions as "glass-like," I smiled for the first time that day. The Maori Warriors came ashore at 6:30 to perform their Haka, then the pros went off at 6:45 and 6:46 before dawn. We were then allowed across the mat and into the water to warm up in a very large designated area (another organization plus for the race). The water was cool and smooth - perfect! I got in a solid 10 minutes of drill and threshold work. At 6:56am, I made my way through the thickening sea of swimmers toward the front, settling on the front row about 20 meters to the left of the buoy line. Confidence high, all focus was now on the swim.
Swim - 55:50, 6 in AG, 61 OA
The guy to my right said he was aiming for :53 or :54. He was a bit bigger (taller, probably 175lb), so at the cannon I decided to follow his left hip and use him as a block as we quickly merged with the group at the buoy line. We went out fast and really never experienced contact. When I looked around at 200m or so, I saw that we were part of a small single- or double-file line going right down the buoys. Could not have started any better. The Lake Taupo water is amazing. Visibility is limitless, as you could always see the bottom in great detail. When I did sight a buoy, I would quickly look down, find a rock or plant 50m ahead on the bottom, and just follow that for 30-40 strokes, repeat. Other than that, I just followed the huge bubble stream in front of me. The net result was very little sighting and great focus on . . . just swimming. At 1,750m, we turned right, went 75m, turned right again and headed home. Both turns were civilized, no contact. Unlike the smooth ride out, the water on the return trip included some mild chop. Otherwise, however, the status quo continued and lasted until the third-to-last buoy (probably 500-600m to go), when the steady bubble train in front started to slow and meander left and right. After about a minute of this, I found myself second in line, but then decided to go it alone. I took off and saw that there was no one in front of me for quite a ways. I picked up the pace and, for the first time, felt like I was pushing near threshold. Felt great. Wish all tri swims were like this. When I came out of the water, I heard Reilly mention my name and a 55-something split. PR by a very wide margin. I focused on my swim the last 6-9 months and knew from my training splits and race rehearsal (also 55 minutes) that I had improved a lot (I'll post my swim-improvement plan in a separate post if anyone has an interest) and was pleased to see all the work pay off on race day. The fact that I was 61st overall, including all the pros, but only 6th in my AG, shows exactly how stacked my AG was on race day.
T1: 4:30
I started the 1/4 mile uphill run on green carpet, pulling my wetsuit down to my waist. The run didn't seem as long or as uphill as I thought it would be. Up the final 10 stair steps, I was greeted by a volunteer who yelled, "follow me, Mike!" I heard them calling numbers, but my name? How on earth? Race organizers were just showing off at this point. 20 feet later, the volunteer was guiding me down a row of bags, where another volunteer was holding my bag. Another 15 feet, and I was in the enormous men's change tent. There were only a few racers in there, but more than 50 volunteers waiving for me to pick them. Needless to say, this looked nothing like IMAZ's tiny, overcrowded and understaffed change tent. Sat down, volunteer removed my wetsuit and bagged it, I put on a jersey over my singlet snd arm warmers as I ran out the other end. Helmet and glasses at my bike, shoes on my bike. Most user-friendly IM T1 ever, and the RDs at every NA IM should be required to view how the Kiwis treat their participants. I don't know how my 4:30 for a very long T1 stacks up, but I suspect pretty well.
Bike: 5:37, 19 in AG, 133 OA
The run to the mount line was short and easy, and I quickly settled in along the lake front, turned on my Garmin 800, and waved to my wife who said she would be in our hot tub if I needed her. I noticed very quickly that Garmin was giving me consistent readings of 800-950 watts. Great . . . here we go again. After Mile 1, we started the four-mile climb out of town. It wasn't that steep, as my compact + 23 was fine for most of it, maybe using the 25 a couple of times. As to power, I was just trying to keep things under 1,000. Yes, Garmin, at times you really suck. As we started the descent on the other side, I performed the first of more than 50 recalibrations and/or resets of the power meter. A few times, the Garmin would appear to read accurate wattage (175-190), but it never lasted more than a few minutes, then it would return to absurd numbers (32, 674, 61, etc.). The rain also started during the descent, it was cold, but the wind wasn't too bad. The chipseal was with us the whole ride out to Reporora - mostly it was Texas-style medium bump, with an occasional smooth spot and an occasional bad spot. I got passed by what seemed like 75 riders that first 28 miles, but I chalked it up to their foolishness. And I was too focused on keeping my bike upright. My hands were cramping by the turn-around, due to the cold and the death grip on my aero bars trying to control the bike over the wet bumpy roads. The return trip was better, with the rain tapering off, the temps rising, and the en masse passing coming to a stop. After the long, gradual climb back into Taupo, Lap 2 began. I gave up on power at this point and just went by HR and RPE. I found out later that I averaged 21mph during the first loop without ever really pushing the effort. Good for those conditions.
The second loop was a very different experience. The rain had stopped, but the wind seriously picked up and gave us a strong head/cross wind on the way back out. It was pretty slow going, but I felt fine. And, as if right on cue, I started passing a lot of struggling riders beginning at Mile 67. Around Mile 80, I stopped briefly at an aid station to take off my jersey and arm warmers. The final 28 miles were helped a little by the wind, but it was still mostly uphill and over roads that now felt far rougher than they had during Loop 1. I found myself pretty isolated the last 30 miles. At the top of the last climb around Mile 106, I realized that I had not experienced any cramping or distress at all. In fact, I felt surprisingly fresh. This was either a testament to my conditioning or a clue that I had badly undercooked the second loop. Data would later show that I completed the second loop at 19mph - just plain terrible. When I dismounted, I saw 6:36 on a clock, which told me that I had ridden slower than 5:35. I was a little shocked and mad at my weak RPE abilities (later, I logically concluded that RPE needs to increase quite a bit over the last 30 miles to account for the building fatigue - pretty dumb in retrospect). Oh well, I quickly convinced myself that my easy stroll on the bike only cost me 10-15 minutes and should set me up for a killer run.
The bike course isn't overly difficult, but the bumps, wind and undulations slowly grind on you and require near-constant focus throughout (not a course for daydreaming). Other than the short potions in Taupo, the course is lonely, and the scenery is pretty plain rural. Nutrition was dead on: I ate all my food, consumed 8 bottles of sports drink, and had two good shorts rinses.
T2: 2:07
Uneventful and pretty fast. The bike racks were pretty empty, always a welcome sight. Entered the same bag line, the same tent, a great volunteer bagged my bike stuff as I put on socks and shoes and started running with my Go Bag (hat, race belt, salt and gels). It wasn't my fastest transition effort, but I didn't waste any time.
Run: 3:56, 19 in AG, 148 OA
Thus far, I had dealt with the high of a perfect swim; the frustration of having no power; the discomfort of cold, rain, wind, and bumpy roads; and the disappointment of a slow ride. And, now, a few feet out of T2, Mike Reilly was about to add to the mix. Regardless where I stood, I had convinced myself that I was top 10 in my AG and I would run with that belief until Mile 18 when my wife would be free to give me real data. But it wasn't to be. "There goes Mike Roberts, currently in 19th place in the Male 45-49 age group." Shit! 19th? I probably should have expected such a poor showing, but I was quite content in Make Believe Land until Reilly ruined it. Although I tried to convince myself that I could still do something magical, I think a little bit of Defeat creeped into my head.
The first 2.5 miles are gently rolling along the lakefront. The sun was out, as was the wind. The crowds were numerous and so supportive. They were constantly yelling, "Good on ya, Mike!" (subbing "mate" for "Mike" when the wind blew my bib up). I had to work hard to slow down and keep the pace around 8:30 for the first of three trips out to the turnaround. The last last 2 miles of the outbound leg take you through some residential areas and over some long/gradual hills and several short, steep ones. A very choppy course indeed, not at all suited for a rhythm/cruise-control runner like me. On the way back, I realized why the first 4.5 miles felt so easy: we were now facing a pretty strong headwind. The second loop was pretty insignificant until Mile 15 or so, when my legs just got heavy and I started to slow. It seemed each time I tried to pick up the pace, I would face a steep hill, which instantly killed that effort. At Mile 16, a gel I had just consumed tried to come back up. I stopped and walked for a bit. Dammit. It turns out that run volume is essential for Ironman, and the 20 miles/week I averaged the last 6 weeks due to injury was coming back to haunt me. For the next 6 miles, I struggled physically, and my lap splits showed mostly 9-minute and a few 10-minute efforts. I tried Coke, but for the first time ever in an IM, it had no magical effects. The rain resumed during Mile 20, the winds had increased to gusts of 40mph, and I remember thinking: I am officially no longer having any fun. None at all. My last walk was at Mile 22 when I instantly started to feel better. So, I ran. Up and down, into the rain and wind. At Mile 24 I switched the Garmin field to Time of Day. I fully expected to see 6pm, but was shocked to see 5:20pm. I'm only at 10:20 with 2 miles to go! After a bad ride and what seemed like a walk-a-thon? The negative thoughts that had crept into my head had made me believe that I was in 11-hour territory. Heck, if I could just muster a couple of 9's, I could actually hang a 10:30-something and be plenty OK with that. So, that became the goal. The last two miles were absolutely comical, as I had to lean severely into an insane wind while getting pelted by the cold rain with my hat in my hand. Most of the spectators along the lake front had (wisely) fled. I felt truly victorious when I turned north toward the final turn-around, this time going left toward the finish instead of right for another loop. My wife was there to give me what seemed like the 10th high-five of the day. The finish line at NZ is pretty spectacular, with at least 100 yards of red carpet to the finish line. I couldn't believe the number of spectators still there, in the driving rain, cheering and wanting yet more high-fives. I looked back and saw that the carpet was mine to myself, I slapped a lot of hands, and Reilly gave me some long-winded welcome to the line. But I only remember the last four words.
Post-race:
The race organization was just as good after the race as it was before and during. They converted the large change tent into a bag-retrieval area, buffet and massage area. The mandatory weigh-in revealed a single KG loss, which means I nailed my nutrition all day. My bike was a few yards outside of the tent and, after retrieving that, I was in the nearby car heading home. I cannot stress the quality of the race venue and organization. They didn't overlook any detail and truly cater to the participant. Other than the swim, the bike and run courses aren't anything special, but the venue, organization and people make this a really special event. Oh, and it's in New Zealand.
On the way home, I was really disappointed with my run until my wife told me I did it in 3:56. Again, the negative demons that had possessed my psyche had me convinced that I had run a 4:10 or 4:15. Shoot, I'm OK with a 3:56 on minimal run training, with a lot of walking, on that course, in those conditions. Turns out I maintained my 19th AG position and would have needed to shave 12 minutes to catch #18. The talent at the top of my division was crazy, with a perennial KQ guy getting shut out even after going sub-10. Can't control who shows up.
I wanted to go to the finish line at night, but the rain and cold restricted me to our front porch. When I got out of bed the next morning, I found that I wasn't really sore at all. Other than my bum Achilles and some calf tightness. Unlike my previous six ventures at this distance, I had no difficulty walking post-race. Which, to me, only proves that my fitness level was high and that I didn't push things hard enough if I truly wanted to compete. Oh well. I had a good race, not a great one. We thoroughly enjoyed our two weeks in New Zealand, especially the second half in the South Island. It will surely go down as one of our trips of a lifetime.
As for my triathlon plans, I learned a lot from this race. My plan to take a shot at a KQ in three years when I age up is still on track, but I seriously need to HTFU. I also need to increase my 185 IM wattage to 200 and improve my run durability so that I can run in the 3:30s. Until then, I plan to rest my Achilles, do some local races this summer, stay low on the Strava Leader Board, and then gear up this fall for IMFL, an EN Key Race, with some of my favorite ENers, on a course that I really enjoy.
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Comments
As for your race, sounds to me like given the PM mishap, and the tough conditions, you really nailed it, so big congrats!!
A couple thoughts...First, your swim is just insane - 61st overall is crazy fast. Love the strategy about sighting a buoy and then picking out an object underwater to steer toward. I wish more courses were this clear. I'm used to not even being able to see my own hand. On the bike, too bad about your Garmin, but a 5:37 bike split is solid. Also, i don't know if just looking at your speed is the best indication of your effort. You mentioned that wind picked up on the 2nd loop so you might not have left as much on the table as you think you did.
It's been fun following your build up to IMNZ on strava and in the forums. Take some time to relax and heal-up that achilles then get back at it for IM florida. Also, i'll be watching for your post on your swim improvement plan - it obviously worked!
A lot of people cannot truly appreciate the difficulty level of wind, rain, hills, chip seal roads and no PM on a ride like this left only to RPE.
Looks real solid given that combo and well done like a veteran.
Enjoyed reading the level of detail you took the time to write in your report.
Get some well deserved rest, hug your family and keep showing us all how to move forward.
Sincere congratulations Mike!
SS
The fact that you were able to clock that time on minimal run volume due to injury late in the IM build is amazing. Intestinal fortitude personified.
If you keep at it, you will get that KQ my friend.....I have no doubt.
JL
nice swim. I need to think about how much I want to dedicate to improving my swim. for me, most gains still to be had in the bike probably.
going there, you gain or lose a day?
will do NZ someday. I will hit you up for the condo info..
I am 50 next year. looks like there might be a chance due to more slots in the older age groups. though the 60+ folks are fast! and the oz and nz athletes and races are just fast.
re the run::: maybe push the front end miles more and trust you will still finish ok. and work the down hills! I wonder if the nz run course would suit me as I like running down hill.
re your weight loss during the day:::: might you have expected or wanted to lose more? a little more weight loss and dehydration better for a fast run? with this run course, a savy runner could really dominate.
the hilliness of the nz bike course compares to what U.S. races? I wonder if my titanium frame would be well suited for the bumpy road surface.
how often is the weather crappy for this race?
garmin problem or power meter problem? what type of power meter do you have?
so I have a couple years in the older age group without worrying about you.
Thanks. I think this course would suit you pretty well. Several of the top guys at the awards dinner told me they view this race as better for bigger guys and not really good for the lightweights. The cool weather, bumps, wind and mild hills just suit the big and strong better. And it seemed a lot of guys passing me and standing on the podiums were more of the 6', 175lb variety, even a few really tall guys like you (a 50-54 KQ guy from Boulder had to be 6'5"). But, like you mentioned, the level of NZ and Aussie talent that show up at the front end was pretty impressive (seemed about 10 deep for that first level of really fast).
The bumpy roads definitely slow you down, but they really weren't that bad the first loop. Got a little annoying the second, but they never forced me out of aero. The only climbs are over the same hill, front and back, 2x. Steeper on the front side (4 miles, all in the small, spending some time in my compact/23 and 25), more gradual on the back side (6 miles, barely requiring small chainring). It's never really flat, so rolling like IMTX. The hills are nothing like Wisconsin, Placid or Whistler. Best description I could come up with would be: take the rolling IMTX, extend the chip seal across all 112, throw in a few Louisville hills, and be prepared to upgrade the TX winds to Kona winds every couple of years (we had 30-40mph gusts, and they had to shorten it to a 70.3 two or three years ago).
I think you'd excel on this run course. I don't do up, down, L and R very well, and there were folks I could keep up with on the flats who separated big time when they bounded down the steep hill and right up the other side. They looked like HS kids running a fun XC course.
As for weather, the locals were all prepared for bad weather because the first Saturday in March (traditional race day) fell on the 7th this year. They say that the weather turns pretty sharply the first week of March, and when the race falls on the 1st or 2nd, it's usually nice. When it's the 6th or 7th, they expect storms. I can't confirm this, but several mentioned it. And the weather was indeed a factor all day.
I struggled with a run plan. Skipping 2 long runs, I ony got in a 15 and an 18, so I knew I was light on volume. Decided to go very conservatively and see if I could push the suck back to 20 or so. Instead, it came at 16. Perhaps pocketing 5 minutes during those first 10 miles would have resulted in a better time, but I was in a unique situation that I hopefully never have to address again. That said, I didn't do the steep hill training really needed for this one. And, yes, I probably could have drank less over the last 5-10 miles due to cooler temps and plenty of hydration in the form of rain.
I have a Quarq and Garmin 800. Throughout the day, I got 160-190 readings maybe 60-70% of the time, but there were constant zeros, 30, 375, and a few 800 and 900s at the beginning. When I reviewed the file afterwards, it actually looks much flatter trend (with lots of big spikes, of course) and shows a 183NP, which is close to the 185 I was targeting. Of course, with all the sharp variation, the avg watts were 165 (which would be an appalling 1.11VI if accurate). In hindsight, I wonder if I had it set to 10s power, I might have seen more reliable data. A guy afterwards told me that he's always had problems with his Quarq and Garmin at races because of data overload in TA from all the machines (his theory) and the solution he's used since (with success) is to take out the Quarq battery the day before when checking in the bike, install a new one race morning, and not turn on his Garmin until he's on the road. Food for thought.
Thanks again. Looking forward to following your success this year and racing with you again, but only after you age up.
I much appreciate the detailed report and logistics on IMNZ. I've had it in the back of my mind because I like the March time slot, but with a 3+ hr flight to LA, 12 hour flight to NZ and another 3+ drive to get there, my trips to Europe seem logistically simple.
Good luck at Steelhead next!
I read your swim improvement post and can only hope that my similar efforts will someday net me a 1:15 IM swim!!
I think your bike/run were huge accomplishments in such rough conditions. I feel KQ in your future! Love the 'age up' attitude, I'm 60 in the 2016 IMAZ and have similar aspirations!
I am not a chip seal fan. I wonder if my bike frame could accommodate 28 mm tires.
I am on my third quarq. second one was a free warranty replacement. this third one I did the upgrade deal. I now have the latest generation.
my current quarq and garmin 500 seems to be rock solid in all situations.