
This is the race that got me to the Ironman World Championships in Kona again. Being only five weeks before Kona, athletes who qualify here would be at a disadvantage due to the short interval between the two, so it's the first qualifier for the following year. (So IM WI 2006 qualifies for IMH 2007.) That would give a
rational person thirteen months to prepare.
Ironman Wisconsin,
Madison, WI
Race Day, Sept. 11, 2005
Swim – 2.4 miles
Race morning dawned hot and humid, with a warm breeze from the southwest. Warm enough for shorts and T-shirt at 5:00 AM, heat would be a big factor today, and goal times would be missed. The temperature of Lake Monona was barely wetsuit-legal, in fact many opted to go without. But I had no such desire, to swim without my buoyant cocoon!
The swim area opened at 6:30 AM, so I made my way down to the arch and crossed the timing mat: The beep confirmed I was now officially in the race. Husbands, wives, boyfriends and girlfriends were all getting good-luck kisses from their mates, but unfortunately no kiss for me: My wife was back home in Calgary, nursing her foot after having a bone spur removed. However, she was with me in spirit, and I wore her gold chain bearing three charms: the Colombian god of luck, an Ironman Canada logo, and a Chinese symbol for pig, her favorite animal. Not that I’m superstitious, or anything like that.
The swim takes place in beautiful Lake Monona, on the south side of downtown Madison. The course consists of an open-water start, two long rectangular loops parallel to the shore of Lake Monona, then a final 200m swim to shore. I started to the right of a ski ramp, about ¼ of the way to the yellow buoy that marked the far side of the start area, and about 1/3 of the way back from the start line. Due to the large start area, there was not much contact when the gun went off. I had seeded myself well, so I was able to get a good rhythm going on the first leg out.
On my final training swim on Friday, I sighted for landmarks well above the waterline in all four directions of the swim. The landmark for the first turn was easy, a new building and construction crane on shore about 800m from the start. All the turns were quite congested as swimmers tried to stay tight to the buoys, but I found that staying wide about 5m kept me out of the worst traffic, and I was able to maintain form.
Not a strong swimmer, I tend to mentally drift and then lapse into sloppy form. I also didn’t have a lot of recent swim volume in the bank, so I would have to compensate by maintaining focus on technique. I had committed myself to some physical queues to overcome my worst habits: Brief pause before the catch on the breathing side, to maximize glide, and feel the triceps work, to finish strong out the back.
After the first lap, which is not quite the halfway point, I got a look at the time on my HRM, 34:50. That projected to a 1:10-1:12 swim, decent for me, and still in the game. Most importantly, I was swimming relaxed and in control. I got kicked in the goggles on the long stretch before the last turn, but was able to clear and re-seal them quickly and continue. I had another look at my time just as I passed the last turn buoy to shore, 1:08 and change. There was still 200m to shore, so I had made up some time on the second lap. And I hadn’t overheated in my fullsuit. As I crossed the timing mat, my time was 1:10:55, not a PB, but my second-best Ironman swim.
Swim Time: 1:10:55
45-49 Age Group Placing: 39th of 184
Overall Placing: 665th of 2076
Bike – 112 miles
The bike course consists of a 15-mile rolling section out of Madison, two 41-mile loops on Dane County roads through corn-and-cows country, then a return trip on the 15-mile section. The loops are quite hilly and exposed to the wind in places, with plenty of 90-degree turns, making it technical and demanding. No long stretches where you can really settle into a rhythm. It would be hard for an out-of-towner to preview the course, with names such as Sugar River Road, County Route S, and Shady Oak Lane, that can’t be found on any map. Most of the roads were well-paved but had no lane markings.
Crowd-wise, IM Moo (that’s it’s nickname) is outstanding. The town of Verona holds an Ironman-related festival on race day, with busloads of spectators from Madison coming in to cheer athletes on. In addition, the longer climbs draw hundreds of cheering spectators to encourage riders up the hills.
After twirling down the west helix of the Monona Terrace Convention Center, I pulled onto the John Nolen Parkway, and crossed Lake Monona. The warm breeze was from the southwest, and was already fairly brisk, so for the first 30 miles we would be fighting headwinds. No problem: wind and hills? Just like riding back home, in the shadow of the Rockies! During the next several hours, a typical late summer day in the American Midwest rolled through my peripheral vision, accompanied by the soundtrack of my rear disc wheel. When my speed didn’t tell me which way the wind was blowing, the tilt of the cornstalks certainly did. Occasionally a strong scent in the wind reminded me that I was also in cow country.
With the heat, wind and humidity, I knew dehydration would be a threat, so I doused myself with water at every aid station, and doubled up on the Gatorade. I spun easy up the hills, and rode strong over the crests and down the back, to keep my heart rate steady. I stayed in the saddle and aerobars as much as possible, to minimize leg fatigue. The course was very similar to riding the rollers at Ironman Canada, although there were several long climbs where the 39x23 got a workout. Fortunately the toughest climbs were shaded, and the enthusiastic spectators urged us upwards.
At the end of the first loop, I checked my split: 2:48 for the first half. Not bad for the conditions, and other than a major case of hotfoot, I felt good. I knew that after the second loop, I would have a tailwind on the return leg back to town, which would set up well for the marathon. I pulled my feet out of my shoes and rode on the tops for about 10 miles. When I slipped them back in, it felt like I had just put them on. I would have to repeat this later on as well. Good thing I practice this for the bike-to-run transition.
During the second loop, the wind had increased to 25 mph, so I hunkered down and spun the small ring through a tough stretch directly into it. Once the course turned north, I had a great tailwind, and the going was very fast for most of the remainder of the loop. I knew the course now from the first lap, so I was able to corner and descend more aggressively. On the last of the tough climbs, I felt my sartorius muscles start to cramp up. This is roughly the same distance in as Yellow Lake at IMC, where the same thing happens to me every year, so I knew what to do: Get out of the saddle. Stretching out the legs eventually loosened the grip, but my quads were not thanking me.
After the last exhilarating pass through the huge crowds in Verona, I spun south through the final stretch of headwind before the turn back to town. Then, bliss: The fairly flat, 15 mile home stretch, complete with a strong tailwind. I hooked up the 53x11 and enjoyed the big push home, flying along at 50 km/h in zone 2, bent cornstalks pointing the way.
Before the race I wondered if a lack of volume would betray me on the bike, but I felt strong, and now it was all down the marathon. And I knew a very tough few hours lay ahead.
Bike Time: 5:30:18
45-49 Age Group Placing: 1st of 184
Overall Placing: 51st of 2076
Run – 26.2 miles
The run course consists of two loops, starting in downtown Madison in the shadow of the Capitol Dome, and through residential areas to the University of Wisconsin campus. Once on campus, athletes do a lap around the football field in Camp Randall Stadium, home of the U of W Badgers, then continue on roads and paved trails that wander through campus.
One major hill called Observatory Road would force many to a walk. Past this the road joins State Street, a main thoroughfare of the campus that is lined with shops and outdoor cafes, full of cheering spectators. After the rowdy out-and-back on State, the run course continues in shade along Lake Mendota on a gravel path. Then the course returns to downtown, and a repeat of the first loop. At the halfway turnaround point, runners head straight for the finish line, but are turned away for loop two by the least-popular volunteer on the course. Another cruel feature of the run course is a pedestrian overpass between downtown and campus, which runners cross four times. Many would be reduced to a shuffle here.
I emerged onto the merciless 94 degree F heat of the shimmering concrete rooftop parking lot of the Convention Center, stopped for the eight-handed sunblock application, and began the marathon with a little mantra going in my head: “Hold pace, stay wet”. In preparation for race day, the forecast being what it was, race organizers ordered six times more ice than normal. I was not planning on any of it going to waste. About this time, ambulances were beginning to take people off the bike course, and the wail of sirens could be heard well into the evening.
As I ran through the heart of downtown Madison, the course was lined with hundreds of spectators at every turn. Most cheered me by name; putting names on the race bib was one of IMNA’s better ideas, especially for us out-of-towners. (By the second loop I became “Tyler”, as the corners of my race bib curled up from getting wet.) The adrenaline was pumping and my pace on the first couple of miles was 7:30. As much as I would love to hold that pace, today was not the day for it, so I backed off and was able to hold a more realistic 8 minutes plus as I passed into quieter streets.
As the heat became more oppressive, the aid stations roughly every mile were a welcome sight, and I got into a pattern at each: Slow down, chug Gatorade, pour ice down the back of my shirt, squeeze two wet sponges onto my head. Between stations I would take a slug of Cytomax from the bottle in my belt. Later in the first loop, I added ice to it, then started filling it with Gatorade at some of the aid stations. My stomach was cooperating well, I was able to process everything I was taking in, and I was taking in a lot.
Having not checked out the run course beforehand, the first loop was a “getting to know you” loop. There were plenty of direction changes, so I was never running into or with the wind for long stretches, and there were two very long, mercifully shaded stretches down by the lake. On State Street, friendly traffic cops directed runners (“You’re the first bearded guy through so far”, one said to me. “Only because Joe Bonness isn’t here”, I thought) and the boisterous crowds showed their support. A live band played alt-rock at the end of the street. The crowds and shade were a welcome respite, but in between the heat and leg fatigue were taking over.
At the halfway point, I picked up my can of Red Bull from special needs, then I passed through the turnaround, refusing to look at the finish line. I felt the way I have felt at the end of previous Ironman marathons, but I still had 13 miles to go. I didn’t feel that I couldn’t continue, I just knew that I was in for some deep suffering until the end.
One trick I use to deal mentally with the enormity of running a fatigued marathon, and to break it into manageable parts, is to count up to 13 miles on the first half, then count down the second half. I was counting down now, I had some stretches of shade and crowd energy to look forward to, after that it would be down to a 10K run.
The caffeine in the Red Bull perked me up, so I added a sequence at the aid stations: Gatorade, ice, Coke, sponges. I topped up my bottle with Gatorade and ice at every fourth aid station, which I continued to drink in between. I was still processing everything I could swallow, so I continued to take advantage of it. I could tell when I was getting close to the next aid station, it felt like my brain was boiling inside my skull. I noticed there were more and more people walking than running, even on the flat stretches.
I enjoyed the shade during the second pass along Lake Mendota, knowing it was nearly the last I would see until the finish line. At about mile 21 I passed female pro Yoko Hori, which made me wonder if I was having a good day, or she was having a bad one. My pace suggested a 10:35-10:40 finish, provided I didn’t melt down in the next 40 minutes. Another female pro was being put in an ambulance at mile 22. Most of the people coming from downtown were walking. I looked in that direction, and saw the Capitol Dome, and it looked very far away.
My calves were starting to cramp up, so I began eating bananas to boost my potassium intake at the last few aid stations. It wasn’t helping, so I thought, get sodium fast. When I stopped to take chicken soup at mile 24, my right calf cramped solid. I had to keep moving, so I continued stick-legged, and luckily the cramp released its grip just enough. I was now counting down in minutes, not miles.
On the last mile, adrenaline took over and I was able to pick up the pace a bit. I was running straight toward the Capitol Dome, but I knew I had to get around to the south side of it and put it behind me. Then it would be downhill all the way to the sweet relief of the finish line. I was inside the last half-mile, and my elapsed time was 10:35: Was I in the Kona hunt?
As I rounded the last corner, I pointed to the volunteer at the turnaround, then straight through the small gap. I wanted there to be no mistake in his mind which direction I was going, because I couldn’t stop if he got in the way. Just past the gap, I sensed another runner on my right shoulder, so I surged ahead. I wasn’t trying to show him up, I just didn’t want to lose a possible Kona spot in the last 100 metres. The crowd reacted, thinking there would be a sprint to the line, but he let me go. As I crossed the line, I looked up: 10 hours, 37 minutes, 46 seconds; my third-best Ironman time.
It didn’t seem like a fast time; I had gone 10:15 at Ironman Canada last year, and 10:22 the year before. But you can’t compare one race to another, or even the same race from year-to-year, without accounting for conditions. The technical nature of the Wisconsin bike course, combined with the wind, made it much tougher than the previous two years of calm weather on the fast Ironman Canada bike course. So I was guessing a top-five age-group finish. The only thing missing was a finish line hug from Barb.
After refueling, I went back into Monona Terrace to collect my gear, and go for a post-race massage. While waiting for an empty table, I pulled out my Blackberry to call Barb. There was a message from my friend Mike Gorman, who had been following Ironmanlive.com and saw me finish: “Great sprint at the end. Congratulations on winning your age group, and being 37th overall!” He followed with another email detailing my splits; I had the fastest age-group bike and run splits as well. Second place was 7 minutes back.
I always imagined that an age-group win would be the result of a perfect day: No mechanical issues, great weather conditions, a 5:15 bike split, and 3:20 marathon. That day, I had issues, but with the benefit of experience, none became show-stoppers. The weather? Less than ideal, the wind and heat made for a challenging ride. But I fuelled well and rode conservatively, saving energy for the run. And that's where the race is usually won.
250 athletes failed to make the 5:30 PM bike cutoff, and a total of 400 DNFed (Did Not Finish), one of the highest attrition rates at an Ironman event. It was far from being the perfect day I imagined for a win, but a perfect day wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying. After all, it’s Ironman, it’s supposed to be hard!
Marathon Time: 3:46:46
45-49 Age Group Placing: 1st of 184
Overall Placing: 36th of 2076
Final Result
Time: 10:37:46
45-49 Age Group Placing: 1st
Overall Placing: 37th