This was my first Ironman. My first triathlon since 2009. And I qualified for Kona. As a vegetarian, of course I could not pass on the opportunity to compete at the Certified Piedmontese Beef Ironman North American Championship in Des Moines.
Background
Back during the worst of Covid, I decided I wanted to make an attempt at qualifying for Kona. I was 39 then so I figured I would aim for doing one when I was 40. I live in Breckenridge, Colorado where ski mountaineering and MUT running are more of a focus than open water swimming and pavement travel.
Fast forward to autumn of 2021. I began doing some background research on qualifying and realized I needed to pick a race that would accentuate my strengths and minimize my weaknesses. So I chose to signup for the inaugural Ironman Alaska in Juneau. 1) Wetsuit swim in calm waters. I swam in HS and I was a beach lifeguard, but I had not done any swimming since 2009. 2) Hilly bike. I prefer periodic breaks from the aero position. Most of what little biking I do is MTB or gravel. 3) A mountainous run. I love mountain running. More elevation change the better. 4) Alaska should be cooler than a lot of the races in the continental US... similar to the mountain climate I live in.
I started training that fall. This mostly entailed skimo, running on packed snow, periodic trainer rides in a frigid garage and pool swimming with a masters group. My fitness was steadily improving. I used running and skiing for low intensity volume while most of my bike sessions and swim sessions incorporated intensity. "Reverse periodization" of sorts for biking and swimming. By April, on a day when it snowed 6", I realized I needed a warmup event before AK to dial in transitions, nutrition and just IM race tactics in general. That's when I committed to IMDSM - as a "practice" race for IMAK.
Prerace
Even as a practice race, I still wanted to do well... just no pressure to do so. In the two weeks ahead of IMDSM, I cut volume, maintained intensity, entered a road running 10 miler but really did not know what to expect with the ironman. I started consulting a number of friends who were either coaches or had done ironmans. They enlightened me on a number of nuances and details that come with racing an ironman. I reserved race tires with RaceDayWheels. I mounted a torpedo bottle on the aero bars of my 2006 Cervelo Dual entry level tri bike. I practiced wetsuit swimming for all of 20 minutes in 50 deg water that took my breath away. And I changed 3 flats on my bike during this time but no matter, I had carbon deep dish wheels waiting for me. By go-time I was feeling moderately confident.
Instead of flying, I drove the 10 hours from Breckenridge to Des Moines with my old tri bike in tow arriving Friday afternoon. When I arrived at the race expo, I walked my bike over to the RaceDayWheels tent to have the Zipp 808s swapped onto my frame. To my shock and horror, Marc informed me that my vintage Cervelo lacked the clearance to accommodate modern race wheels. Balls. A feeling of panic rushed over me. There was no way my old tires would make it 112 miles. Then I asked Marc if he had any bikes I could rent. "Maybe. I do have a 56cm used 2018 Canyon here for sale..." I took it for a spin around the block. Good enough! The hasty decision to buy a $3500 bike on the spot without a fitting left me a little uneasy and anxious. I laid there on the lumpy mattress of my cheap EconoLodge room second guessing myself. So I took it for a spin up the street. There was no denying it was a little small but it was going to have to do so I came to terms with that before nodding off to sleep that night.
Raceday Eve
The following morning was the practice swim. Having had hardly any time in my wetsuit I showed up promptly at 0800 like an earnest schoolboy ready for his first lesson. As I lined up to hop in, I noticed a few people being turned away. And then I was turned away as well. I had forgotten to wear my prison anklet. Dammit. I stripped out of my wetsuit dejected. But while I was moping back toward my car, I noticed some of the other rejects swimming on the public beach. Hallelujah. I climbed right back into that snug wetsuit and dove in like I was receiving an adult baptism. The swim went... swimmingly. I hadn't realized how much a wetsuit puts you on top of the water instead of in the water. What a confidence-inspiring feeling.
I wrapped up the swim, went back to the hotel and squeezed in another shakeout on the bike and a short run for a systems check - felt dialed. I collected my gear for the race into each transition bag and took photos of each so I could ensure I hadn't forgotten anything later. I passed on using the run and bike special needs bags. I came to the conclusion that they're a waste of time and just complicate things. I loaded everything up for delivery to the transition area and came to feel mildly inadequate by what I encountered at the bike rack: dozens of shiny $10000+ machines all around. Then I concluded that most of those bike owners are just compensating. Somehow I managed to relax and pass out early that night before the 0545 start.
The Swim (1:00:36 - 4th AG); T1 (11:17)
When I arrived at the start around 0500 it looked like Santa's toy factory. People tinkering with bikes. Tinkering with bags. Tinkering with wetsuits. Tinkling in urinals. So I just took their lead and did all that too. The 11th hour double checks helped settle my nerves. Instead of a mass start, all of us age groupers self-sorted by anticipated swim time. I hopped in with the 1:00 group. We lined up in groups of 2 for a staggered start. It was somewhat anticlimactic compared to the chaos I had pictured. We just hopped in the lake and went.
I repeated the mantra "smooth is fast" during the first lap of the swim and patiently stroked on the heels of a few guys who had gone out ahead of me. But the second lap converged with the later starters creating a churning cesspool. It was an obstacle course of flying limbs. I calmly navigated the chaos and exited the water in just over an hour. The "strippers" caught me off guard when they yelled "GET ON THE GROUND!" as I was running toward T1. I obeyed as they efficiently ripped my wetsuit from my legs. I carried the momentum into the changing tent... where everything ground to a halt. I had trouble finding one of my socks after toweling off then wasted too much time applying sunscreen and squirrelnut butter. By the time I finally started the bike, 11 minutes had ticked by. I still have some work to do on transitions.
The Bike (5:05:28 - 8th AG); T2 (7:24)
A couple friends advised not to go out too hard at the start of the bike. I took that to heart, awkwardly downing a PB&J over the course of the winding first mile. Soon after I was settling into aero position (felt better than feared) and monitoring my 1-min wattage, normalized power and intensity factor as I peddled out of town. It would be easy to over-push the bike without the aid of a bike computer. 70-75% of FTP felt effortless. I knew the heat was coming and had no desire to suffer through the entirety of the run. Steady was the name of the game. Before this race, my longest ride had been 90 miles on a frickin' trainer. I maintained about 350 cal/hr on the bike consisting of 24oz. gatorade and 2 maurten gels. Some people desire solid food but I just prefer to keep it simple and my stomach can handle that regiment.
This bike course was beautiful, far exceeding Iowa expectations. It was a single loop full of rolling hills and wide open farm country. A gentle rain came through about 50 miles into the bike and the subsequent light show from the clouds was mesmerizing - easy to enjoy the scenery when you're relaxed on the bike. I noticed a lot of riders around me pushing the hills. I let my own wattage climb into the 250s (FTP 310) but never more. Many of the guys pushing early dropped off in the latter half of the bike as the humidity and temperature started climbing. The wind was swirling for much of the bike leg but mercifully the last 20 miles had a pronounced tail wind to push us into T2.
I offloaded my bike, grabbed my T2 bag and rushed into the changing tent - not because I was laser focused on making up for my sloppy T1 but because I had a code brown. I sprinted out of the tent and landed in a 110 deg portajohn where I wrestled with the top half of my trisuit. I left at least 4 minutes of that transition in the toilet.
The Run (3:19:43 - 1st AG)
One of the perks of a transitional intestinal offloading was the run feeling relaxed but strong from the outset. Before deciding to do this race, I had been a MUT runner for the last 15 years so this discipline is my jam. My race strategy was smooth on the swim, steady on the bike, then throw down on the run and start reeling in the field. But I could feel the mercury rising with the high sun. Eventually the heat index hit 100F for the day. Heat was a wildcard for me having no acclimation to it whatsoever. It had snowed 2 ft at my house less than a month before race day. The high in Breckenridge last summer was all of 83F. At a friend's urging, I had packed salt tabs along for the run. Although I could stomach gatorade on the bike, the same wasn't true on the run. I rotated in water with salt tabs to try to keep my electrolytes balanced. I managed to hit the halfway mark in 1:35 but I was fading. The heat was taking a toll. However I seemed to be holding up better than most of the field. I witnessed one of the pro women walk off the run course and lay down under a tree about halfway into the run. I continued to liberally dump water on my head, throw ice into my tri suit and just embraced that unmistakable sensation of discomfort. Even with a slowing pace, I passed several of my competitors in the second half of the run - coming in at 13th OA on the run.
At the finish line, I had no idea how I had finished. I asked another competitor in his early 30s who I had been beside for much of the bike and the run if we had gotten into Kona. He shot me the 'are you effing kidding?' look before replying, "You just broke 9:45... what do you think?" After removing my shoes to discover the horror that was my feet, a race volunteer kindly looked up my result and let me know I got 2nd in the 40-44 AG and 30th OA. The result had exceeded all expectations, I had qualified for Kona in my first Ironman.
