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Mike R's IMF Race Report

Ironman Florida 2019


Drive-by Summary:  10:23    20/395 M50-54

This has been a comeback year following a long, nagging hamstring issue. Finally took four months off during the last OS to undergo some serious PT and re-build my run muscles and form. Started back into training in the spring, but I did so carefully. Any intensity on the bike or run would cause a flare-up. And, of course, it’s hard to follow any EN protocol sans intensity. I tested my fitness in late July at Ohio 70.3 and, as expected, I didn’t have much. I S, B and R slower than usual, but I executed just well enough to crack five hours and the top 10. IMMD was going to be my first IM back, but I gladly passed when @Derrek Sanks Derrek and @Edwin Croucher wanted to transfer. Unfortunately, Florida was the only remaining transfer option. But racing with friends easily made it worth it to start my fourth IMF. At the end of Week 15/20, I raced August 70.3 to see if my fitness was improving. Unfortunately, that race effectively ended a few minutes after it started, as I developed SIPE early in the swim. It’s a totally over-rated condition, not recommended at all. Even with very limited ability to breathe (think NormaTec around your chest), I came out of the water top ten and sub-30 (so, if there was a take-away, my swimming fitness wasn’t horrible). But I couldn’t breathe, stop coughing or push any watts on the bike.  Stupid Mike had taken the reigns, however, and I somehow thought a half marathon in 97F of soup would cure whatever the hell was afflicting me. Fortunately, race officials saw me coughing blood all over the place at Mile 0.5, peeled me off the course and dumped me into a tent for a couple of hours. First DNF in 25+ years of tri racing. Week 15 . . . totally shot.

Going into IMF, my CTL did briefly hit 100. I did have a couple of longer trainer rides, I got in a couple of quality 16+ mile runs, and I got in a few 4k swims. Best of all, the hamstring felt good. But the ultimate goal of Florida was to test my run. I didn’t post a race plan because the plan was to cruise the swim, JRA the bike, then try to run. I didn’t want anyone to try and talk me out of it.

Pre-race was straightforward. I tapered, ate and drink per my normal routine. Slept like a baby the night before. The only variance was not hyper-salting the days before the race, as I didn’t want to jack the BP and risk another bout with SIPE. The only twist on race day was the forecast. It looked fairly typical for IMF, with cold temps in the morning quickly warming up with the sun and the standard wind.

Swim:  1:06:10          31st AG

Wet suit-legal 70F. Got a brief warm-up to get the shoulders firing and get some water in the suit. Lined up with @Danielle Santucci in the 60-Faster, probably the first 60-80 to enter the water. We went in four-at-a-time every five seconds. Per my plan, I jogged into the ocean. It was low tide, so it was nearly 100 yards before all the swimming, standing, swimming, jogging, etc. ended. Just followed feet to the first turn. Florida only puts sight buoys every 200-250 yards, so sighting can be difficult on the way out. At the turn, the swells and current were quite evident. I thought it was fun swimming in the swells, except for the occasional splash into the mouth. Sighting on the way back was simple, as the Boardwalk Hotel is easy to spot to the left of a big tower. Jogged out of the water, grabbed a drink, saw 32:xx on my watch - good enough. Back in. As we angled over toward the start buoy, I could see a steady stream of swimmers still exiting the start corral on the sand. Great. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to be merging with the mid-pack swimmers. And, sure enough, after a few hundred yards, the predictable chaos ensued. Breaststrokers everywhere, people hanging off the sides of kayaks and a larger inflatable dingy. I went inside the buoy line, on the line and wide of it – no real escape until the turn. I went really wide around the turn because – again – there were at least a dozen people trying to hold onto the buoy for rest or safety. I headed east into the sun again for a few hundred yards, preparing for the final turn to home. Went through a mess of jellies here and got stung on the feet and hands by a few of the youngsters (size seems to count when it comes to those creatures, which are about as useful as the mosquito). But the final leg home gave me plenty of clean water, the swells and current had calmed a bit, so I just cruised it in. Walked out of the ocean, saw 1:06 and 119HR on the watch, no problems. 31st AG may be my worst swim placing outside of a WC, but the goal had been not to burn any matches. And 119HR is my get-a-haircut intensity level.

T1:  4:49        Don’t know what my rank was, but I started the Bike in 21st AG

Wet suit stripped, jogged to bag, got helmet on and wet suit in the bag while jogging to the tent, handed off bag, continued right out the other side of the tent. Here is where I made the first big mistake of the day. The chip seal in the parking lot really isn’t bad, but my feet were absolutely freezing. So, the jog all the way around to my bike was excruciating. Bike shoes are an absolute must in the T1 bag at IMF!

Bike:  5:19:30          Started in 21st AG, finished in 27th AG

Forecast had said it would be 51-52F at the start of the bike, then steadily increase into the 60’s. During the opening mile, I rolled on some arm warmers that I had left on my aerobars. Temps actually felt pretty good. But as we left the island after six or seven miles, it felt like we rode through an arctic layer. And we had. Garmin shows the temperature plummeted to 41F and didn’t get back up to 50F for two hours.  Man, it was cold.

The low sun was blocked by trees when it wasn’t obscured by clouds. Not wearing thermal gloves, socks and toe covers was a huge blunder. As was following a beach forecast for a ride that went far north and inland. Rookie mistakes. I tried to eat and drink per plan, but I realized by Mile 35 that I had gone through a single bottle of GE. For the next 20, I really focused on drinking. My hands were swollen and red, making food grabbage a real challenge. And every time I shifted on Di2, my clumsy thumbs would shift through three gears, try to go back two, back and forth until I stumbled into the right gear. At the 55-mile AS, I decided to stop, pee, warm up and stretch. This was a huge morale booster, as I felt much warmer and better as I re-mounted. Most of the first half of the course was into a pretty strong N head- and cross-wind. Around 60 we turned due N into the wind all the way to the turnaround in the 68 vicinity. I was finally warmed up in this section, with my last toe finally regaining feeling. I saw that I was averaging 20.3 mph, which ranks as No Bueno on the IM Bike Speed Bueno Scale. But for the next 25 or so miles of tail assistance, I got to blast at 25-30mph, passing a ton of riders. I was drinking better now, but had barely consumed three bottles by Mile 80. I had eaten all my chews and was now on my gels.  Stomach just couldn’t take any more GE. In hindsight, I should have shifted to water + salt, but oh well. At the 95 AS, I stopped again, peed, re-applied some Chamois Butt’r (only part of my body that was set ablaze on this day), then cruised in the last 17mi at wattage in the 150s. I usually shoot for 175-80NP for an IM, but decided to target 160 or so as a JRA effort. I ended up at 159NP, with a VI of 1.02. I never once pushed on the pedals, no cramping, no leg pain. I stretched at every five-mile Garmin beep, so the back and hips felt good. Just a cool, crisp JRA ride. Because this flat course on good concrete is so crazy fast, I think a more typical 175NP day would have had me in the 5:0x range and much more in the fight at the top end of my AG. But that wasn’t in the cards or the plan on this day. Onto the run.

T2:  2:52        Ended the ride in 27th AG, started the run in 24th (free speed)

Legs felt super fresh getting off the bike. Grabbed my brightly-marked bag, shoes out on the way into the tent. Pre-lubed socks and shoes on, asked vol to pack my helmet, grabbed the go-bag, headed out. Pretty simple. 

Run:   3:50:07          Started in 24th, moved to 20th pretty early, finished there

Goal here was to run out to the park in the 135-40 HR range, see what the legs could deliver on that effort (usually it’s somewhere in the 8-8:30 pace). If I felt good at the turn, I could crank up the effort to 142-43HR. A few hundred yards in, the bike legs disappeared and I started to run. Very pleased to see high 7’s and low 8’s at a very moderate HR. Gel at Mile 2 AS, continued focusing on drinking. I was concerned that the four or so bottles on the bike had buried me in a hole I couldn’t yet see, but I had peed twice, it was cool, and I was running well.

Hit a figurative speed bump during Mile 8. Stomach started cramping and rejecting GE. The notion of swallowing a gel or other food was a non-starter. So, I just slowed my pace, went to water + salt, and tried to problem-solve during an otherwise beautiful beach run in 60F of sunshine. I saw Derrek coming the other way at my Mile 10. He didn’t look good, but appeared to be the only one on course visibly sweating, so I figured he was actually six miles ahead of me on his second loop instead of seven miles back on his first.

Unfortunately, the old saying that it gets darkest before the dawn can also ring true at IM. And that’s what happened here. Right at the end of the first of two laps, the stomach pain turned to intense GI pain. For the next five-six miles, I walked when it hurt, jogged when it didn’t. By the numbers, this is what that kind of nonsense looks like:

But, after Mile 18, the figurative sun did rise, my demons had been vanquished, and I again felt like running. I had moved to Coke for the second lap, but could only drink a little every other or third AS. Nothing was going down, but I was otherwise OK. I started to get a little light-headed at 20. I was running 8:30s and better, but once again needed to problem-solve. I was likely super dehydrated and on the verge of glycogen bonk (I bet I consumed 300~ calories on the entire run). Did some math (Late IM Math = Drunk Math) and concluded I could jog in at 9-min pace and still put down a 3:4x. And there’s nothing shameful about an old guy going 3:4x while not in top shape. These ended up being the most fun last six miles of an IM ever. My legs never hurt, no cramps, no blisters. Just a nice sunny run on a fuel tank that was literally empty. I said “good job” to everyone I passed, high-fived any fan who was offering. I saw Derrek again, obvious to me now that he was well back and looking even worse. I hadn’t seen Ed or Danielle once, so my concerns about them intensified. But that was it. I cruised in at 8:45-9:00 pace, really enjoyed the chute, Reilly called my name for the umpteenth time, and crossed that glorious line for the 13th time.

The timing chip website shows that my Late IM Math was just sharp enough to squeak me in under the 3:50 mark:

But, presumably just to F with me a bit, the IM Gods gave me an official run time of 3:50:07.  Seven GD seconds.  Fitting. And probably well-deserved on a day where I made too many rookie mistakes. Had I made those blunders on a less-forgiving course, 2019 could have been my Year of the DNF. 

I feel pretty fortunate to have finished on a day that ended way too early for many ENers and hundreds of other racers. I was pretty excited to watch Danielle, Ed and Derrek mix it up with the top end of their AG’s, but it wasn’t meant to be. Right after the race, I ate two pieces of pizza and downed two bottles of water pretty easily. Felt great considering I had just gone 140+. But all I really wanted to do was shower and make a big dent in the couch. But no. We got to sit outside until dark while authorities removed the bodies from the murder scene we had called home for the week. Skipped the awards the next day, ate a great breakfast next to Ben Hoffman, said goodbye to friends I'll see again soon, then fled PCB. Likely for the last time.

Feeling better and better about my health and fitness, I head over to Laguna Phuket next week to try and dethrone Jürgen Zach from the top podium spot in my AG, then hit the OS en route to St. George – a course that won’t tolerate sub-par fitness and won’t forgive rookie mistakes.

MR

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