Ironman Coeur d’Alene 2007
By Andy Pele
Coeur d’Alene was chilly (low 50s) and windy race morning. The lake looked a bit menacing, not at all like it was when we did a practice swim the afternoon before, when the sun was warm, and girls laid out in bikinis. Afterwards, I heard the swells were 2 feet. I could see that it was choppy. But I’m from Southern California. I’ve body surfed waves at least 10 feet high. Of course I never had to worry about getting pummeled by humans in addition to the surf, unless of course I snaked a wave from a Neanderthal of a surfer. Anyway, for a brief moment I considered starting far off to the side. At Ironman Wisconsin in 2005, almost half the competitors beat me out of the water. But this year, I’d been swimming much better, exiting the water amongst the first quarter of the field. And besides, I’d have to swim against the windblown current if I started that far right. So I seeded myself toward the front, relaxed my mind and plunged in. An elbow caught my eye, a foot caught me in the belly, and someone’s hand repeatedly tried to incorporate my hips into its catch and pull. I expected all of that but still it took a while to get used to swimming in a sea of people. My challenge was to find a good pair of feet to follow so that I could focus inward and get rid of all the distractions. It finally happened about 300 yards from the finish, a little late but just in time to set me up for a happy exit.
My transition sucked. My mind remained muddled from the swim (Nicole might say it always is), my hands fumbled everything, and I couldn’t figure out how to get my jersey on with all the sleeves right side out. I felt like a newborn octopus, just learning to use it’s too many appendages. If I could just make it to my bike, I’d finally be right where I wanted to be.
The ride was beautiful. Hayden Lake is part of the new course. It’s gorgeous and you get to ride a twisting, roller coaster of a road high above it. I watched my power output from the beginning, remembering that I always start off a little too hard because I’m so excited to be riding. Even though I only rode between 200 and 250 watts, I seemed to be passing a lot of people. Later in the ride I would settle in with some familiar faces, most of them pushing too hard on the hills. I capped my climbing power at 350 watts. On the flats I tried to stay below 300. That was difficult a few times as I surged past fast riders so that I wouldn’t be accused of drafting. I hardly used the aid stations at IM Wisconsin. This year, I grabbed a bottle at every opportunity. My focus was on taking in as much fluid and calories as I could on the bike. Ironman is a time where gluttony is a healthy sin.
I had hoped to use my heart rate to gage how hard I should go on the bike, capping that at about 140 beats per minute. But the night before the race I discovered that my computer wouldn’t pick up my heart rate. So I did the whole bike mostly by perceived effort and limiting my power output. And that’s how I discovered that an average 223 watts is comfortable for me in an iron distance bike ride. By the end of the ride I’d managed to take in about 2500 calories. I knew I was hydrating enough because I got to paint my leg and the road yellow every half hour. I love the fact that I’ll never have to stop moving during the bike portion of an ironman, with so many volunteers giving me food and gels, and urinating all over myself like a baby.
It’s fun to ride into transition and see so few bikes in the area. T2 went great: shoes, visor, reflective armband, go! In yoga, the teacher reminds us to “check in” with our body: notice incorrect alignment, tension, posture. Well no need for that in Ironman. My body was talking loudly enough. My lower back was telling me it was time to get a proper bike fit. And my left quad must have been feeling neglected, as the right one got all the attention from the pre-race massage Joe Company gave me. I imagined I would have to struggle with these two aching body parts for the whole run. But after a few miles the pain subsided and running was fun again. At the first aid station, I saw the Grubbs family handing out water. We’d stayed with them all weekend and they were a truly awesome support crew.
My run started off rocky with a trip to the port-a-potty near the first aid station. It’s not so easy to relieve oneself while running. At least I’d practiced for that and knew to expect it within the first mile and a half. I got it down to 54 seconds, perfected at Triple T. Then my race number kept falling off, seemingly protesting my continued effort. But by the time I began to run through downtown and up the hill my feet were feeling light and I could prance on my toes. The crowd was great and even my competitors encouraged me when I ran by them. Iron fans tried to call me by name but many of them still think I’m “Pete.” In Hawaii they wouldn’t make that mistake. I ran the pace I’d planned (7:20’s) and walked every aid station until the fatigue started to set in at mile 19. At about that time, the man who would take 3rd in my age group passed me. From then on, I struggled physically and mentally. I watched my goal time of under 10 hours slipping away and had my longest walk at the final aid station before the finish.
The last half-mile though was fantastic. I couldn’t catch the 2 people ahead of me and couldn’t see anyone behind me. The whole road seemed to be mine alone and everyone seemed to be cheering me on from the sidewalks. I think I sped up, buoyed up by the crowd and even crossed the line hands up with a smile but immediately caved into the suffering. Like at Wisconsin, I gladly accepted the helping arms of the finish line volunteers. And then I saw Nicole. I didn’t even wonder why she was there, I was just happy to see her. Later, I found out that the marshals had pulled her off the bike course, but she hardly even let her disappointment show. I knew she would try again, and I’m proud to say that she has already signed up for Ironman Coeur d’Alene 2008. I, on the other hand, will just be there to support her completely and welcome her to the finish.
Keep it Zen.
andy