Race Report

Anika, her friend Matthew, and I are back in Dublin after spending a little over a week in Switzerland and another in London with Lee Ann and James. We'll go exploring Ireland this three day weekend and at the end of next week Anika and Matthew will head back to the States.
My fears of not finishing the Ironman were unfounded. Despite some problems I had plenty of time and am now the pround owner of a Ironman finisher medal and shirt.
I arrived two days before the event in Switzerland with my saddle, aero bars, helmet, shoes, wetsuit, and all the other stuff to do one of these events. My brother kindly lent me his bike which we outfitted with parts from mine and adjusted for my geometry. I was rushed traveling there and nervous, and promptly forgot the pedals and race tires I had wanted to bring along. I bought new tires and disassembled my brothers shoes to put the cleats that fit his pedals onto my shoes. This all worked fine until about ten minutes into the bike part of the race.

I did well in the swim, finishing in the first 20% of my age group, despite that I took it very easy and mostly let other people drag me through the water. The start was a mess with 2,000 people kicking and pushing each other. It got a little better after a while but about half way through we were funneled through the narrow straight in the picture above and had to run over a small island just to jump back into the water and finish the second loop. I'm happy with my time and the fact that it did not feel like I spent a lot of effort and energy on it.
Transition from swim to bike was slow, but there is no point in worrying about losing a minute or two in a fourteen hour race. Less than ten minutes on the bike and my feet felt funny. It was like they were floating on top of the pedals. After a while I had to stop and investigate. All six screws on both cleats were loose! I thought I had tightened them well enough and they held for two training rides on Friday and Saturday, but now there was a danger of the cleats falling off. About forty minutes ahead was an aid station with a mechanic, so I tried to pedal gingerly to keep constant pressure on the screws and not let them wiggle out and get lost. Fortunately, I did not have to wait that long. A mobile mechanic had stopped to helped a rider fix a flat, and he had a screwdriver I could borrow. In my haste, I fixed the right shoe cleat such that my foot was at a weird angle for the rest of the race. Near the end I was looking forward to the run, so I could put my feet back into parallel again.
I had a very carefully figured out pacing strategy that didn't work, but a failing bike computer helped me overcome that. Initially I had heart rate limits that I did not want to exceed in order to retain enough strength and endurance for the run. My heart rate was much lower than that, and when I went faster to reach those limits, I felt I was overexerting myself for this stage of the race. This worried me a lot, but the bike computer told me that I was going much faster than I had planed. So, I tried to keep a balance between how much exertion I felt and a good speed a little bit above what I had planed; ignoring my HR monitor for the most part.
During the second bike loop I realized that the bike computer would sometimes show zero km per hour and after a while started working again. During the time it showed zero it was not advancing the riding time that I had used to conclude I was going way faster than anticipated. Redoing these calculations using my wristwatch time, I saw that I was slightly ahead of plan, but nowhere near as much as the bike computer had shown.
This, I think, was a good thing. Otherwise I would have tried to bring my heart rate up more, thinking that I needed that to make the bike cut-off. I had a good bike time (for me) and came off the bike feeling like I could easily (slowly) run a marathon. Without the computer malfunction I would probably have stressed more and ruined my pacing.

The last part of the bike was in a heavy thunderstorm with strong head winds.

The second transition was also slow. I was soaking wet from the rain and changing into running gear took a little longer because of that. But that was fine, and soon the rain stopped.
The first loop out of four for the run was fine. It was slow, but I felt I could jog for the rest of the race and achieve my secondary goal of not having to walk during the running portion. Unfortunately, I missed that goal by a long shot.

Half way into the second lap, I bonked and had to start walking. At first I could not understand why, because I had felt good and things were going well. After a while I realized that I had not taken in any food during the first loop; only liquids. I walked to the next aid station and stuffed myself, and then walked some more to let the nutrition do its magic. It sort of worked. After a while I was able to jog again, but it was very hard. Part of it was psychological: once you start walking it is very difficult to convince yourself that running is worth the effort and pain it costs. The other part was probably physiological: it takes a while for food to be processed and be able to use the energy it contains.
Somewhere in there I was following an Italian guy my age or a little older. He was not doing all that well either, but he was faster than me when he was actually running. At one point we go by some park benches and he yells out in joy and plops down on one of them right in front of me. I cursed him, since it tool all my willpower not to sit down right next to him. After a while he passed me again, only to stop at the next aid station to chat with the pretty volunteer there. He did that a few times to me, but now I was one my fourth loop, he had only three arm bands and needed to do another lap, and I was feeling better, knowing that I could finish from here; and soon.
As is usual for me, I kept wondering why I was doing this and reminding myself to remember that I don't actually like pain. As a matter of fact, I hate it. That's why I always have signed up for the next race already, forcing me to continue training. This time I have no race lined up and am ready to retire from the sport (after a five-year, not greatly successful "career" ;-) I'm ready for the couch, some crisps, a beer, and a large-screen TV!

But now my poor run performance is bugging me. This time I was worried about the bike but thought I would do really well on the run for a change. I'm not sure what to do about the bike. I was nearly last in my age group, but I don't think I should have gone much faster without jeopardizing my run. Maybe with more training something under seven hours would be possible and still able to walk afterward. Still not a great time, but better than what I did in Zurich.
On the run, however, I know I can do better. Simply not walking would easily shave of thirty minutes or more. I don't want to do all this training again, but not having done any exercise for three weeks is beginning to bother me, and I think I could do this a little bit faster. Yes, I did an Ironman, which very few people out of the total population have done, but I am one of the slowest in my age group to finish, which so far has never bothered me too much. Breaking into the first half of my age group would be nice, though. I have to think about this. Maybe I'll do another one for my 55th birthday ;-)

Pictures are courtesy of my brother. Thanks!

I am an Ironman

Did it: results
More news and details when I get back from my two-week vacation.

Taper

Trend doesn't look good.

One more week to go and I already have a week of tapering behind me. I thought I would monitor my resting heart rate to make sure I am getting enough rest, but after the first four days of doing that, things didn't look so good. But, as you can see in the graph above, my heart rate has stabilized since then in the low 40's and it seems my heart will still be beating on July 10th.
Resting heart rate, measured in the morning, before you get out of bed, don't move a finger, lay flat, don't turn on any brain functions other than what is needed to push the go button on your HR monitor, is a good indicator of how well your body is recovering and whether you are over training. The actual number is genetic, but you can lower it by becoming more fit. If your body is under (training) stress, or you lose fitness, it will go up. The 46 BPM at the left of the graph is after a medium hard ride the day before (54 miles with an elevation gain of 3,025 feet). Now I'm down to three-mile runs and fifteen-mile rides. Almost boring.
My panic about not making it has somewhat subsided. My run training is going well and my longer bike rides have been at the minimum speed required to make it in time, but with more elevation gain than I will encounter at the race. Of course, then those Swiss people decide to throw in some additional obstacles: Due to emergency road repairs there will be a detour which will add two miles to the bike distance and another 215 feet in elevation gain. Thanks a lot.

More trouble.

Despite that, I do think I will be able to make the bike cut-off, get onto the Marathon, and finish in fourteen hours and fifteen minutes. If things go really well, maybe in less time than that.
The first 56-mile bike loop will be crucial. I will feel great from all the resting and be tempted to go fast. But I'll have to discipline myself and stick to a much slower speed than I could do, and fight the urge to make up a little bit of time while I'm still fresh. I need all that energy and strength for the second loop and then the Marathon. Yet, I have to go fast enough to make the bike cut-off, otherwise I wont be allowed to start the run.
If I go my predicted speeds, I will be able to "comfortably" finish the race in time, although I will be using different words than comfortably to describe how my body feels after fourteen hours of torture. Looking at last year's results for men in my age group, I wont be last, but I wont be in the first half of that group either. Which is fine for me, but again, it will be hard to let all these people at the beginning of the race pass me and pull away while I'm feeling fresh enough to chase them.
One of the things I learned over the last few years doing this nonsense is that there is a mental component to it. It's not that you have to be good at algebra or chess to do this, but you have to be able to negotiate with your body on how much speed versus pain, and you do have to figure out a way to pace yourself such that you achieve your goal without going too fast at the beginning and then not reach the finish line.
Should any of the jocks from my high-school days be reading this: I apologize for some of the things I said about your muscle to brain mass ratio; but not all of them.

Food

Today's haul.

In April, I explained how difficult it was to shop when all you have is sporadic Dublin Bus service and a bicycle. Afrodri suggested to try out the delivery service offered by several of the grocery stores around here. There are four, soon to be five, grocery stores within walk/bike distance from my apartment. The last one tried out was Superquinn. There is one in Blanchardstown and is therefore farther away than the Spar, Lidl, and Dunnes, that I already know. Tesco,  is building an Express store here in Mulhuddart; basically a beefed-up 7/11.
I heard of Superquinn when I first arrived, and that they are a little bit more expensive, but really good (and of Irish origin, unlike Spar and Lidl). So I tried it. They have a very nice selection, a large clean store, and lots of fresh fruit, bread, etc. It didn't seem that much more expensive than the others. And they had signs proclaiming that they had hundreds of items at the same price as the other guys. (Wonder how many items are in the store ;-) I usually just grab stuff that looks good and never remember how much it costs at other stores.
Last week I tried their delivery service. You pick stuff on a web site, enter your address and a credit card, and then pick a two-hour time window for delivery sometime in the next week. Some time slots cost 8 Euros for delivery, but it is easy to use those that charge only 4 Euros. And that's per delivery, independent on how much stuff you get.
Last Saturday two grumpy guys showed up promptly at seven, the start of my time window, and handed me my groceries in plastic bags sorted into frozen, cold, and ambient. They have compartments for each in their truck. You can return the bags for reuse the next time a delivery arrives.

I don't depend on these guys for my food supply anymore.

On the web site there is a box that allows them to substitute items when they don't have something you ordered. It's on by default and I forgot to uncheck it. At delivery they give you an itemized list of what they actually delivered and a list of substitutions, if any. There was only one: A Cabernet Sauvignon I ordered had turned into a Sauvignon Blanc. That was a little strange, since there where no other whites on my order, but I'll drink it anyway.
Ordering for this weekend was much faster. You can import a previous order and use it as a template to start shopping. This morning as I was planing my day, I thought, "What would happen if they called, and wanted to delivery early?". Guess what? They called in the afternoon to see if I was home and could accept the delivery! Maybe I should buy a lotto ticket today.
Unfortunately I was on a bike ride when he called, so that didn't work out. I was right in the middle of Worried Sheep Hill when the phone rang. This was the steepest part for today's ride. Lowest gear, out of your saddle steep. It was also narrow, so starting again was a little bit tricky.
After I got home, a different guy showed up with my groceries. He seemed a little bit more enthusiastic about the whole process than the two guys last week. He exclaimed "Fair play!" when I handed him his tip. I added that to my growing list of words and phrases for an upcoming blog on the Irish usage of English.
When I was picking out things on the web site, one caught my attention. Man-size Kleenex tissues; but these were extra soft! Of course, I had to get some of those, if only for the picture:

A regular-size Kleenex under the glasses. The ones in the box are folded.