Two weeks later… Some reflections on IMLP 2008
I’ve been thinking a lot about the race. Probably too much. But this is one side effect of having all this extra time on my hands, while I recover from the race and try to let my IT band heal (which does feel much much better today!).
- I’ve said it before, but the volunteers really make this race what it is. I think there’s something like 3,000 of them out there on race-day, doing everything
from passing out water and Gatorade, to stripping wetsuits, sitting underwater in the lake to watch for any “sinkers”, guiding traffic, catching finishers, giving massages, cleaning up discarded water bottles and cups, etc. etc. They were there this year in the pouring rain, they have been there before in searing heat. Some of them are there because it helps them get priority to register for next year’s race, some are there just because they love being part of the race; whatever the reason, the race could not go on without them. At some point, I really want to go up there or to another Ironman race and volunteer. It looks like such a rewarding way to spend the day and I sorta feel like I owe it to some future racers. I tried to thank as many of them as I could on the course, but in case a volunteer is reading this, thank you again!
- Lake Placid is also a very special place. It’s beautiful and friendly (except a few restaurant employees…) and makes the Ironman community feel at home all weekend long.
- Also, obviously the race would be a totally different experience without all the spectators. The family, friends and community members who line the streets around the course – especially in the general area of the Olympic Oval – are a huge source of inspiration. They also brave the elements and spend 10, 12, 17 hours outside to cheer on and encourage anyone passing by. My family has been so supportive during these past two years. (That’s us above at Caribbean Cowboy on Monday night – yummy!!) The knowledge that I would be seeing them as I came around the bend back at the Oval or climbing the hill back into town on the run was always on my mind whenever times got tough.
- Speaking of “times getting tough”, this may make me sound like a jackass, but despite the fact that I went considerably faster in all legs of the race, this year’s race was a lot easier than in 2007. “Easy” in a relative sense, of course. My memories from last year are a lot of pain and discomfort, a lot of setting mini-goals (“I just need to make it to ‘X’ point in the course”) to prod myself along. A lot of “What the f am I doing this to myself for?” This year I had a blast! There were a few points when it was considerably less “fun” than others, but in general, I felt in control and entirely aware of what was going on in my body and in the outside world. I talked to some people during both the bike and the run. It was fun to be conscious and “meet” nice people – I was sure spending a lot of time being around them! In fact, my heart rate during the bike was really low – I spent a lot of time in zone 1 and low zone 2. I know that I could have pushed it harder on the bike and probably gained a little bit of time, but I’m sure that staying smooth and relaxed made the ride more enjoyable and helped set me up well for the run. As I came into transition both times, I was able to visualize exactly what would happen and what I needed to do. And, I felt “good” pretty much the whole day. I’m certain that that is the result of three things: First, having done this distance and race once before, I was relaxed and knew what to expect. I didn’t have that “oh shit, now I have to do a marathon?!” moment that I had last year near the end of the bike. Second, my base is obviously much stronger. I now have over three seasons of triathlon and the fall 2007 season of ultra training under my belt. Heading into the 2007 race, I did my first 100 mile bike ride. By the time I got to July 2008, spending 5-6 hours on the bike was something I was getting used to (not that it’s easy or routine, by any means, it still pretty much sucks). I may not feel as “fast” as I was a couple years ago, but I can go and go and go. And I can do it pretty quickly at a relatively low intensity level. The distances don’t scare me. Third, there’s that old saying that “Less is More” and it worked for me this year…
- “Less is More”. This is a saying that shows up pretty regularly on coaching blogs and Slowtwitch. But no one, myself included, really believes it. How can less training time or intensity possibly cause you to be more successful at racing? This year, I had a pretty substantial break in my training from mid-March until mid-May. During that time, my training time was down about 35% compared to 2007. And even after I started up again, I didn’t train with the same intensity as last year – no hard races, very few high-HR efforts, no bricks. I put in the hours and the distance, but didn’t strain or push myself to any limits. I guess I came to the race more relaxed and less fatigued. And it worked. I’m still not sure that “less is more” works in all situations, but my theory today is that, for me, for long-distance endurance races, I don’t need to red-line. I can hold back some. I still definitely need to put in lots and lots of hours, but mental and physical recovery time are just as important – or more important – as training time.
- As I mentioned in my race report, I saw two top pros struggling mightily on the course during the run. Desiree Ficker and Bjorn Andersson both were in contention for podium spots at one point during the run and both had to spend a considerable amount of time walking. But both of them finished. Why would they finish? For most of us, just finishing the race is an accomplishment and if I broke down and had to walk the entire marathon, I would have done it. I’m only there once in 2008 and any finish is better than a DNF. The pros though have nothing to prove and they risk injury, pride, hypothermia, etc. If they have a bad race today, they can call it quits and try again the next week. They could have easily pulled out because of any number of “debilitating” reasons. But they finished. Bravo for them! (For the record, there was only a 6% DNF rate in the general field this year. That is very low for an Ironman, especially given the rainy conditions.)
- Even though I am so psyched about my own finish, coming in a close second for best part of the day was going back to the Oval at 10:30pm to watch the last 200-or-so finishers of the day. (The picture above is the finish line bleachers about 16 hours into the day.) These were people who had been racing between 16 and 17 hours – the first 12 in pouring rain and the last 3 or 4 in the dark. We’re talking 8 hours on the bike and 7+ hour marathons.
But they didn’t give in or give up. I have no idea how those people do it. There was a dude in his 70’s and a woman in her 60’s. Amazing. The bleachers at the Oval were packed, music was blaring and the spectators were cheering their lungs out. Mike Reilly had been out there since before dawn and still announced every finisher as if they were the first he’d seen. It was such a special sight. And the most amazing part is the very end. As it gets close to the midnight/17 hour cutoff, everyone is anxious, “Who’s still out there?” and “Will they make it in time?” One family standing near us was waiting for their athlete and it was getting very close. (She finished with 10 or so minutes to spare, I think.) The final official finisher finished with less than four minutes to go – after nearly 17 hours, he made the cut-off by 3 1/2 minutes and he looked like a champion as he came through the finishers chute. (That’s him to the right, find his blog and great race report here.) And then there were the three unofficial finishers who didn’t make it – 8 seconds, 36 seconds, 47 seconds. No medal, no t-shirt, no hat, but plenty of cheering and encouragement and they did cross the finish line. And hopefully they’ll be back next year with a plan to crush that cut-off time. - Finally, I’m not going back next year. Two races, two finishes, a very successful second effort and I’m done. (For now.) I made this decision that long before getting up to Lake Placid before the race. Next year, I’ll do some shorter triathlons and hopefully a hundred mile ultra. And I was really cool with that decision before the race. After spending the weekend up there and being around all the athletes and being part of that community, and then having a successful race, I got very nostalgic as we drove out of Lake Placid on Tuesday morning. This had been a very special weekend both years. Time with family and some triathlon friends. A strong feeling of accomplishment. And I’ve become a pretty good long-course triathlete. (If I don’t say so myself!) I am going “out” on a high note, but I couldn’t – and still can’t – stop thinking about how I can improve. How I can cut a few minutes here and a few minutes there. I know it’s the right decision for a whole host of reasons, but that doesn’t make it any easier. I’ll miss it next year, that’s for certain.
