2011 Ironman Western Australia Post-Race Report

I guess it’s about time for a post-Ironman report, eh?  Besides having very little time to write while touring the two fantastic countries of Australia and New Zealand, as well as having really limited access to wifi, I don’t think I had the right mindset to talk about what turned out to be an extremely difficult event.  Now, a little over a month later, I can look back more positively on that REALLY long day!

It started at 2 a.m.  Although the plan was to have gone to bed by 6 p.m. the night before to get a full night of rest, that obviously didn’t happen.  So after about 5 hours of sleep, it was time to get up and get some calories into our bodies to be processed in time for a 5:45 race start.  With some concern about a backup of traffic on our way into the little town of Busselton where the race was held, we left the house early at 3:15.  And, of course, there was no traffic, so we had plenty of time to complete our equipment preparation, take some photos, re-check the equipment, take some more photos, and waste some more time until we needed to head towards the water for the swim start.

The Jetty - looks shorter from this angle

The 2.4 mile swim course starts on one side of the Busselton Jetty and heads out around the tip of it then down the other side.  The jetty there in Busselton is amazing.  It is the longest timber-piled jetty in the southern hemisphere, stretching to 1836 meters - over 6000 feet long.  You’d think that the water would be fairly deep a mile out into the ocean, but at the end of this jetty, it’s only about 26 feet from the surface to the ocean floor.  In contrast, the Malibu Pier is only 780 feet long and is similarly deep at 25 feet.  A mile out from the Malibu shore the ocean is about 100 feet deep – big difference!  The town of Busselton sits inside a large bay that is well-protected from the harsh Indian Ocean.  Because this bay is so shallow, the Busselton jetty needed to be built extremely long to allow ships to dock.

The water was fantastic that morning in Busselton.  The surface of the water didn’t look like a lake by any means, but for an ocean swim, the swell was almost ideal.  Additionally, the water clarity was fantastic and the temperature was nearly perfect for racing too. With those three factors in good shape, the next thought might go to the other creatures that could be in the water with you.  There had been a rash of white shark (“pointers”, mate!) attacks in southwestern Australia in the final quarter of 2011, so the bad thoughts could become a little more prevalent when normally you may almost completely dismiss them.  One piece of good anti-shark news is the shallow water there.  Although the limited depth doesn’t mean there aren’t any sharks there, it’s not the typical cruising environment for a pointer.  The other way to quell the fears is to go have a good look underwater.  Fortunately, Busselton has an underwater observatory at the end of that really long pier.  Walking down the stairs a couple of levels and seeing nothing but fish of shorter than a meter in length has to make you feel good!

Swim Start Corral

So, the first gun went off at 5:30 a.m. and the pros took off.  Feeling confident with all the good news of the previous paragraph, all we had to do was wait.  It’s typical to get a little warm-up swim in, but with 2.4 miles to go, we weren’t going to be sprinting anyway, so as the pros DID sprint away, we got into the water to re-acquaint ourselves to the water temperature.  With a little water in our wetsuits, we were back on shore for the 5:45 notice to begin our race.  Ironman races are a mob start, so as the second gun went off, over 1,000 of us began our journeys together.

Having tested the water current with a practice swim a couple of days before, I knew I’d be fighting a slightly right to left flow on the way out – left to right on the way in to shore.  The jetty was to be on our left the entire time – great for a left-side breather like myself – so I aimed to the right of the jetty tip.  Eventually, the current would take me directly to the last buoy.  Thankfully, I didn’t have much trouble with all of the flailing arms and legs around me - well, except for the one time early on when somebody hooked my head with their elbow and held my head underwater for a few seconds.  Besides that, it was gravy.  I guessed correctly with the current, made the turnaround tightly around the buoys and headed for shore, aiming a bit left this time.

It was such a great feeling to come out of the water in good shape, mostly because I normally don’t, but also because that long swim, the weakest of my three triathlon skills, was over.  My parents, Scott, and Mara, who had traveled all the way to the west coast of Australia (amazing – thank you!), were there along the swim exit chute to cheer me on towards the 112 mile bike ride.  Just a short jog and an almost 11-minute transition time (!!!!!! – guess I really was making sure that I’d be comfortable in my bike clothes) and I was in the saddle.

The bike course is shaped a bit like an “H”, although with arms and legs that weren’t quite the same length.  We were to do three laps of 60 km (37 miles), each time returning to a loop near the bike start where we got a chance to hear our fans cheer us along – huge help! The longest section is parallel to the beach and is flanked by an estuary alongside the entire length, so the view wasn’t so bad.  After crossing the short part of the “H”, the course heads into a state forest.  Although we had seen a few grey kangaroo in the forest as we drove the course a few days earlier, there were none to be seen during the race – or maybe there were and I just didn’t feel like looking!  There were four aid stations scattered along the route and I made sure to hit each one.  Despite the fact that not everyone mixed Gatorade as per the directions, I was extremely thankful for the volunteers at those stations who tried to keep us hydrated. 

Even though there were fewer than 1500 racers on the course, spread over the 60 km loop, the roads did seem to be packed at times.  Part of that may have been due to the triathlon drafting rules of Australia: keep a seven bike length distance between yourself and your competitors unless you’re going to pass within 25 seconds.  This is tougher than it sounds.  Firstly, in the USA, we’re allowed to follow at three bike lengths, so it was a bit difficult to judge the seven lengths.  Secondly, when you’re overtaken by another biker, you MUST back off and let them pass.  You may attempt to pass them after you’ve fallen back by those seven bike lengths.  That was a long way to drop and I felt it ruin my rhythm quite often.  As usual, you find riders who either don’t know the rules (poor excuse) or just fail to adhere to them.  While not particularly rooting for penalties, it was nice to see diligent rules officials on the course! ;)

While it was a beautiful ride, it was tough to enjoy because we had the unlucky fortune of 30 mile/hour headwinds.  I had wanted to put in a solid bike ride without overdoing the effort, so that I had energy for a strong run, but the wind sapped it out of me.  This was one instance where being tall and light worked against me as I turned into a bit of a sail for my bike!  What I couldn’t feel as much while riding was about to really do me in.

Hello H-E-A-T.  It seemed none of us were ready for it, and it greeted us harshly.  93 degrees and no shade.  I was really hoping that we’d get the cool weather that we had been used to in LA for October and November.  Instead, we got the double-whammy of wind and heat.  Both of them did a number on me!  I arrived, exhausted, into the changing tent for transition #2, bike to run, and again took my time getting on to the next phase.  After running back and forth looking for an arm cooling sleeve I had dropped, I was on my way out of the chute to the marathon.  This run was about a 10 km (6.2 mile) loop, done four times.  It traveled along the coast for the majority of the time, including through some neighborhoods where the locals cheered, played music, sprayed us with hoses, anything to help us along.

Despite being tired, I shuffled along pretty well for a while, stopping to walk through the aid stations that were placed at nearly each mile mark.  I couldn’t tolerate any more gels or dry foods, so ate an orange wedge and drank water or Gatorade at each stop.  Along the way, I’d get applause and high fives from my support group who had found a nice spot on the patio of a restaurant near the water and along the route.  Again, HUGE help.  As the miles went by, the walks through the aid stations started to get longer.  I was really burning up.  Those arm coolers weren’t working at all - should have let them stay lost!  I started seeing some of those classic exhaustion-type symptoms in other racers, you know, the leaning-over-to-the-side foot-dragging walk, the hands-on-knees resting stance, the nausea.  It was starting to set in that this was turning from racing to surviving.  I did not fly all the way out to Western Australia to NOT finish, and as I started to feel a little dizzy, I knew I needed to dial it back.  If I walked a lot, I walked a lot, but I was not going to get pulled off of the race course by a race official because I pushed too hard and couldn’t move any more.

Lap #4 was all walking, that is until I reached the final stretch.  We had been given an black wrist band each time we completed a lap.  A few hundred meters before the finish line, I wore three black bands and had finally earned my orange one, meaning I was allowed to head down the finish chute.  At that point, I could force myself to run and could pass out after the finish line…which is exactly what I did.  That final stretch was fantastic.  I had walked with my father for some of the last lap, then saw my mom and Mara along the stretch to the finish.  I heard the magic words: “you are an Ironman!” and fell into the arms of two volunteers.  Despite attempts by a very excited Scott Pulcifer to get me on the phone to the USA, I couldn’t muster the energy.  I was done – and off to the medical tent.  I failed every hydration test and had lost over ten pounds that day.  For the next hour or so, I had a nice nap with an IV in my arm.

It was hardly the glamorous finish that I had imagined, but it was over.  I had achieved Ironman status and could look forward to another three weeks of remarkable travel.  There was no soreness the next day, so I guess the training was done well.  I certainly didn’t perfect the nutrition and fluid intake strategy, but I wasn’t among just a small group in that category.  It was an unbelievable experience, one I had told myself I would never do, then one I said I would never do again.  In the days immediately following the race, I left a small window open to trying another Ironman (hopefully in better conditions!) as I wasn’t entirely satisfied with my race, but as the days go by, I accept the effort more and more.  For me, and 1177 other finishers, it really was rewarding day, one that I’ll never forget, and one that I’ll never regret.

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At this point, I have to reiterate my appreciation to my Mom and Dad, my girlfriend, Mara, and the "mayor of Busselton", Scott Pulcifer.  It was a completely different event because you were there.  I don't know how it would have gone without you.  I'm so happy that we shared one tough day and a bunch of good days after.  I love you all.

Additionally, I want to thank my friends that supported me through training and sent me off with good wishes.  I felt all of your support while racing too.  You're all awesome.  I look forward to some free weekends with you.

For any of you who want to see pics from Australia and New Zealand, you can go to the links below (Picasa).  Sorry that there isn't an accompanying story for them, but maybe I'll throw something together to talk about the trip soon.

IMWA: https://picasaweb.google.com/103049868877847811665/IMWA?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCN-E6L7J28rAyQE&feat=directlink

Sydney: https://picasaweb.google.com/103049868877847811665/Sydney?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCJv2oYyclrCHXw&feat=directlink

Busselton: https://picasaweb.google.com/103049868877847811665/Busselton?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCNqx04fS_OymOg&feat=directlink

Whitsundays: https://picasaweb.google.com/103049868877847811665/WhitsundaysTrip?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCOaIivjU3Y2y_wE&feat=directlink

Kangaroo Island: https://picasaweb.google.com/103049868877847811665/KangarooIsland?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCJKo8fKS8o6K1AE&feat=directlink

Queenstown: https://picasaweb.google.com/103049868877847811665/Queenstown?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCNTBz4q47JX-Lg&feat=directlink

Franz Josef Glacier: https://picasaweb.google.com/103049868877847811665/FranzJosefGlacier?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCJCL-NGcz_-sxQE&feat=directlink

Christchurch: https://picasaweb.google.com/103049868877847811665/Christchurch?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCIDVvr_b25rTOw&feat=directlink

Busselton, we're here!

It's all happening.  We're in Busselton, Western Australia.  Got to Perth on Thursday morning and  then drove down south to the host city...in km/h and on the wrong side of the road!  By afternoon, we found our rental house, dropped off the stuff and headed into town

Our first need was to grab CO2 cartridges from the local bike store.  Knowing that there are 1500 racers here and a huge number of them who flew to the west coast not carrying the airline-prohibited flat tire inflators, we wanted to make sure we beat the rush.  Bad news, the shop was closed.  Good news, the people are so nice here!  The shop owner was getting in his car to head home, but welcomed us in to buy some replacement gear.  Problem solved.

We then drove to the beach to see the mile-long jetty we are to swim around on Sunday.  Yeah, it's long.  The water surrounding it is nice, though!  We left the beach to drive the bike course.  It's about a 37 mile loop that we repeat three times.  No problem - it's beautiful!  There's a nice coastal portion, a wetlands area, and a forested area where we saw wild kangaroos staring back at us crazy Americans!

That was enough of a day, so we headed home to do the things we really need to do, eat and sleep.   Friday morning, we officially became participants as we signed our waivers and picked up our race packets.  Then I stared for 30 minutes at the Ironman finish line that I hope to cross on Sunday.

Arriving back home, we assembled our bikes, which have to be dropped off in transition on Saturday.  Check.  Ready to go.  And that night, we had our pre-race instructional meeting where we were informed of the Australian racing rules, which in some cases, are quite different than those in the USA.  Of particular concern is judging the 12 meter buffer we are to keep on the bike course.  They tell us that it's around 7 bike lengths...4 longer than we're allowed to follow back home.  Yikes.

Now (after that bike drop-off) it's just final preparation, a little more food, and as much sleep as I can get.

If you care to follow as I race, you can log on to www.ironmanlive.com and search for "Maxfield". We start racing at 5:45 a.m. here in Australia, but that will be 1:45 p.m. LA time.  The website should be up and ready to go then.  I hope to hit all the checkpoints along the way so that the reporting to ironmanlive goes as planned!

Until my post-race report...g'day!

On My Way!

Well, it's getting very real. I'm at the airport, waiting to take off for the land down under. Fortunately, there was so much to do to prepare for being away from work, doing a race abroad (with lots of equipment!), and traveling afterwards that I haven't been worrying about the 140.6 miles I'm going to have to cover - under my own power - in one week. There's not much to do about it now anyway. I can't improve my fitness any further before race day. All I can do is mess things up!

Of major importance for the next few days is that I eat, stay hydrated, and get plenty of sleep. All three of those will be tough on the upcoming 15 hour flight, but I hope to avoid too much temptation in Sydney and will try to make up for it there. After a couple of days in Sydney, we will fly to Perth, drive south to Busselton, and the final race preparations will begin.

Our first task will be reassembling our bikes. They can't travel in one piece. The machine that will roll me along for 112 miles is broken down to fit inside a 47 x 30.5 x 10.5 inch box. The wheels are off. The handlebars and seatpost too. All of that needs to go back together solidly, with gearing reconnected to the wheels, chain lubed, and sizing adjustments made so that the bike feels just as good as it did before I broke out the allen wrenches. Of course, this is all assuming the airline doesn't lose that bike box somewhere along the 7500 mile trip!

One of the big mistakes a racer can make is to fail to gain course knowledge. If you don't know where you're going, you race tentatively and risk going the wrong way, wasting precious time and energy. So, one of the next steps for us will be riding or driving the course. Ironman Western Australia has repeating bike and run loops that are far from perfect ovals. Looking at the map of the routes, you'd think it was some sort of roller coaster path. We'll make sure we know where we're going.

I'm looking forward to testing the calm, clear waters of Geographe Bay (race site) too. Busselton has a jetty that sticks out perpendicularly to the shore for a full mile. Our swim route starts on one side of that jetty, goes around the tip, and then comes back to the beach on the other side. They even have an underwater observation deck at the end of that mile so that we can get a look at the sea creatures we'll be swimming alongside. Let's hope none of them have big teeth.

With the swim/bike/run courses evaluations done, I need to learn how these Ironman transitions (switching between disciplines) work. They're quite different from the shorter races I've done in the past. Usually, we try to minimize changes between the swim and bike or bike and run, just to keep our overall race time down. But with Ironman, you're covering too many miles. You need to be comfortable. I would normally wear the same shorts and jersey for an entire race, but here, I'll be changing clothes completely. I certainly don't know how all of this takes place, so I need a quick lesson. With the lessons complete, eat, drink, and (try to) sleep again...the pressure is building.

Time to board, next time I'll talk to you from Australia!

The Season, part 2

Did I say disaster?  OK, that’s probably taking it a little bit far.  As I mentioned in an earlier post, I completely underestimated my nutritional requirements at Vineman.  While not being a true “disaster”, the bonk in the wine country was an extremely humbling event.  I’ve been a sore loser (read highly competitive) for my entire life.  And make no doubt about it, I lost on that day.  Even if they were sympathizing, you feel like all of the racers passing you know you lost too.  My message to the Vineman course: I’m looking forward to taking you down next year!

 

Fortunately, the land is beautiful in those hills around Santa Rosa.  The day after the race was a fantastic recovery day on the slow-moving Russian River.  The team spent it drifting along in kayaks and inner tubes, celebrating the victories of the majority of our group, several of whom finished their first Half Ironman and have since registered to do their first full Ironman races in 2012.

Following the trip to the north, training took a turn towards long-distance cycling.  In early August, I traveled to Massachusetts to participate in my second Pan-Massachusetts Challenge.  This amazing ride is the highest yielding athletic fundraising event in the country - $35 million this year!  Its signature route is a two-day, 192-mile trek from Sturbridge (in the middle of the state) to the tip of Cape Cod, at Provincetown.  While the support of the fans in all of the neighborhoods along the route is inspiring enough, this year we had a special friend leading the way, none other than cycling legend, Lance Armstrong.  He cruised (far) ahead of us for the first day of riding to our overnight stop in Bourne, a mere 111 miles away…just one mile shorter than I’ll have to ride at the Ironman.  Perfect.

We escaped stormy weather on our bikes, but not on the ride back to Boston, where the ferry pitched so harshly that the band and their instruments were launched across the dance floor.  Snacks and drinks at the bar?  All on the floor.  It was a rough ride to Beantown, but all of that was forgotten with a bowl of the best clam chowder ever - found at Union Oyster House near Faneuil Hall, in case you were wondering.

Next on the schedule was the big team battle at Zuma Beach, the Nautica Malibu Triathlon.  I had spent the last few months doing long-distance training, but now it was time to get fast!  I have done the full triathlon at Malibu several times, but this year, we needed a fast all-male relay team to compete against Disney, Sony, and NBC Universal in the Entertainment Industry Challenge.  So, I registered to do the run leg of a team.  It was nice that I could just focus on the run, but I needed to make it a very quick four miles to keep the team in contention.  Getting fast means doing intervals.  Although a balky calf muscle kept me from doing too much sprinting, the race time was pretty good.  Unfortunately for us, it was the year of the ridiculous relay teams and we couldn’t do better than 7^th place – still very respectable.

The rest of the WB Tri Team also raced very well.  Our overall team time (top 3 male finishers + top 3 female finishers + top male relay + top female relay + top co-ed relay) was eight minutes faster than our championship winning time of 2010.  However, NBC Universal was faster and the Warner Bros. finished second.  Individuals on our team continue to amaze me.  Every year, there are impressive performances from podium-achievers to first-time racers.  This year was no different.

With another successful year at Malibu complete, all that was left for me was a return to long-distance training.  For two months, the coach and I would need to mix lengthy weekend swims/bikes/runs with shorter weekday interval workouts.  Before I went back to the extended distances, I wanted to check my movement patterns to ensure that I wasn’t going to cause an injury with repetitive inefficiencies.  We do a test at the Fitness Center called the Functional Movement Screen.  It’s available to all of our members and is an essential part of our fitness assessment offering.  The quick FMS highlights improper functional form, whether caused by weakness, instability, or immobility, which can then be targeted for improvement through corrective exercises.  As an example, tightness of the hip flexors could cause a forward-tilting pelvis, which would place undue stress on the spine and inhibit the activation of the gluteal muscles while running.  Over the course of training for a marathon, that could cause a multitude of injuries or at the very least, a very inefficient run and sub par speed.  With a positive test result and a couple of corrective exercises to do, I was ready for training.

As you can imagine, there aren’t a great number of sites in the city that allow for continuous extended-distance training.  We regularly use places like the San Gabriel Bike Trail which runs from Irwindale to Seal Beach and Pacific Coast Highway from Santa Monica to Port Hueneme.  Each of these sites allows us to complete combination workouts, typically called bricks.  We use these bricks to train our bodies to transition from one event to another.  Usually emphasized is the bike/run transition as your legs are the movement generators for both.  It’s not unusual to feel a little wobbly for the run after climbing off of your bike!

Top of the hill! (near Mammoth)

Our bricks varied over the two months we had to focus on Ironman training.  We ran the Long Beach Half Marathon then followed it with a 70-mile ride up and back on the San Gabriel Trail.  We swam two miles in the COLD Pacific Ocean at Zuma Beach before riding 80 miles up and down the coast.  To get some variation, we made the fantastic decision to travel to Mammoth Mountain and do some altitude training.  Over that weekend, we did a 2-hr bike/1-hr run/2-hr bike session on Saturday and a 2-hr bike/2-hr run at higher altitude on Sunday.  While extremely challenging, the new atmosphere and beautiful surroundings kept us motivated.  I already mentioned the 100-mile ride/1.5-hr run day from Santa Barbara to Malibu.  And this past weekend, the coach and I rode 70 miles from Irvine to San Diego.

There are only a few interval days left, otherwise, I hope this stuff got me ready!  The race happens in fewer than 12 days!!!!

The Season, part 1

So, it’s all downhill from here.  This past Sunday, I completed the longest day of training I’ll have until race day on December 4^th.  Together with my training buddies, I bicycled from Goleta Beach, just north of Santa Barbara, to downtown Malibu.  And just for fun, we mixed in a 1 hour, 15 minute run at the mid point.  I am in pain and completely exhausted.  It didn’t help that I flew in from Dallas on Saturday night.  Although I learned some great new stuff in the functional fitness world while in Texas, that trip certainly didn’t set me up for a great ride yesterday.  With three weeks until race day, though, it had to be done!  Of course, this “downhill slope” doesn’t mean that my training intensity will go down too.  The mileage will be dropping, but the interval training will pick up.  Of paramount importance is that I’m healthy on December 4^th, so flexibility and elasticity will be as important as the power gained from the intervals.

What did I do to get to this point?  Well let’s see…

Triathlon training is nearly a year-long cycle for some of us on the WB Tri Team.  We participate in several key events through the year and focus our training to be in optimal condition for each of those “A” events.  There may be some other races mixed in, but they’re considered to be more of an organized workout.  As a team, we generally prepare for two A+ races, the Wildflower Triathlon in May and the Malibu Triathlon in September.  The experienced core of our team will also add the Vineman 70.3 Half Ironman to the A+ group.

Home for the Solvang weekend

Although it’s not a race, the fourth A event is the Solvang Century Ride.  It’s the official start of our year and a beautiful weekend.  The team shares the rent of a fantastic house for the weekend, allowing for the building of great camaraderie – and minimizing costs, of course.  The significance of this early March ride is that it sets a nice aerobic fitness base and prepares us for the year ahead – it’s the launching point for the season.  At this point we’ve put in several strong weekends of riding, beginning at around 25 miles and growing up to about 80 miles.  We mix flat, long rides with shorter mountain climbs to prepare for the very up and down Solvang course.  This is only a bike ride, so you can cycle in a pack or “peloton” and draft off of other riders.  This diminishes the work done by everyone but the front rider(s).  When we get to the triathlon season, there is no drafting – everybody has to do the work!  It does take a bit of practice to be comfortable riding in a pack, particularly since we don’t regularly do so throughout the year.  You can’t just decide to ride at 20 mph, six inches behind another rider’s tire, so several weekends of practice are required.  After spending the long day in the bike saddle, speeding through wine country, we spend the night eating!  Riding 100 miles, each of us burned at least 4500 calories, so a nice big meal is in order.

Wildflower Transition

Next on the calendar is the Wildflower Triathlon which happens during the first weekend of May.  As soon as the team leaves Solvang, it’s time to get into triathlon shape.  Swimming and running need to be mixed in with the bike work and speed matters for each discipline.  There’s no more “riding”, it’s “racing” now!  Wildflower is known as the “Woodstock of Triathlon”…as well as one of the more difficult races you can do.  This race has been a staple for the WB Tri Team since 2006.  It takes place near Lake San Antonio, just to the northwest of Paso Robles.  It’s pretty much in the middle of nowhere, so you can forget about the luxuries of home life – you’re camping!  You’ve never seen so many tents!  They are everywhere!  Again, this is a great opportunity to really get to know your teammates, sharing stories and experiences.  There are two major race options, either the Long Course Distance on Saturday or the Olympic Distance on Sunday.  The race courses are beautiful, but quite hilly.  Most triathlons are generally flat, but not at Wildflower.  Your legs are going to take a beating!  It’s all worth it, however, as this race is so well supported.  There are fans cheering you on for much of the race.  Just when you think you can push any more, there’s someone to motivate you (more cowbell!!).  And as you can guess, you have earned another good meal after your efforts at Wildflower.

After Wildflower this year, I needed to try something new.  I had never done a marathon – remember I was a shorter-distance guy.  Having already signed up for the Ironman, however, I figured I had better do a marathon by itself since I was going to have to do one after a 2.4 mile swim and 112 mile bike.  I chose the San Diego Rock ‘n’ Roll marathon: 1) love San Diego, 2) had heard great things about the race, 3) it fit nicely into my schedule…well kind of nicely.  More accurately, it fell in an empty spot in my schedule.  The tough part was that I only had one month to ramp my mileage up from 6.2 miles (Wildflower) to 26.2 miles.  It’s hardly safe for your body to jump up that quickly, so I only got to 13 miles in my longest practice before doing the race.  This could have been a total disaster, but I was careful not to run too hard and paced quite well.  If you’ve never done a marathon, you’ve probably never seen the pacers.  They have signs on their backs showing their predicted time of finish.  So, you can guess as to the pace that will feel good to you (determined by your practices) and just follow the pacers for as long as you want.  If you feel like they’re too fast or too slow for you, make an adjustment and move to the next group to the front or back of you.  Awesome!  There was no need to keep staring at a watch to stress about pace, you could enjoy the surroundings and hang out with some similarly speedy friends.  I could use these people in my other races!  For much of the run, I felt good, but my legs started to really hate me at around mile 20.  Knowing the finish was less than a 10K away, however, I fought through and completed the distance in just over 3 ½ hours.  Success!

The month after the marathon came the Vineman 70.3 Half Ironman, where disaster struck…

(stay tuned for the 2^nd half of the year, coming later this week!)

Learning to Tri

You’ve just begun to see the story, but I didn’t just start training for this Ironman last week.  And although I committed to take on 140.6 miles last December when I registered, the training for it really began long before that – before I ever considered myself a candidate for this kind of torture!  My training actually began in 2005 when I decided that I’d take on triathlon.  With some nudging from two fellow employees, Stephanie Rubalcava and Dave Gatlin, the WB Tri Team was created and hastily “prepared” for the 2005 Nautica Malibu Triathlon.  At that point, I left my comfortable weekend warrior status behind and started down a new path – a path that would test my will more than any athletic endeavor I had ever attempted.

That first season was a rough one.  I didn’t know what I was doing.  I had taken swimming lessons and messed around in the pool like lots of other kids.  I had ridden my bike to football practice from middle school through high school.  I had run cross-country for two years in high school and casually throughout the years.  While having some of that background probably helped some, I soon discovered that I did most of it all wrong, particularly for triathlon.  Swimming in the ocean was a completely different animal – even if you weren’t thinking about the other animals that could be swimming with you!  Biking was supposed to be done with a circular stroke instead of mashing down on the pedals – and you could do it in “aero” position?  What is that?  And who knew that running would be so hard after you got off of a bike?

"Aero" position on the bike

While I tried to learn as much as I could through several weeks of practice, the early bumps showed me that you can’t just pick this stuff up.  You have to experience it.  Just when you think you’re getting it – you’re thrown a curveball.  My first lesson was that “aero” position is not the most stable position on a bike.  At 20 mph, riding down Pacific Coast Highway, I lifted my head up to find a large steel construction plate askew in the shoulder of the road.  With no way to avoid it due to passing cars, I attempted and failed to get over it.  I couldn’t stabilize my front wheel while in “aero”, so it whipped to the side, I went flying, and my brand new carbon-framed bike was broken in two places between my legs.  With one month until race day, it looked like my first season was over before it began.  However, my second lesson is that teammates are your greatest asset.  Unbeknownst to me, they raked together some funds and helped to purchase a new frame for me, allowing me to fight on.

On that first race day, I found out how ridiculous a triathlon swim start can be.  It is often called a “washing machine”.  I’m not sure if that’s the perfect description, but it’s good enough.  Triathlon swims for races shorter than Ironman distance start in age-group waves.  When the gun goes off, you and everybody else in your 5-year age-group take off for the water at the same time.  Since I was a cocky rookie thinking I would smoke this, I was near the front of the pack when we lined up.  Once we got to the water, I found out why it’s called the washing machine – legs and arms are kicking and swinging all around you.  People have very little courtesy in the water.  You can be pulled, climbed over, punched…if you’re in the way, you’re going to know it.  I panicked.  I knew I was going to drown.  My breathing accelerated and I could not get enough air.  I ended up backstroking – in anything BUT a straight line – for half of that race, just so my face was out of the water and air was getting into my lungs.  What a mess.  I now know to stay back and to the side to give myself some space.  While it may cost me a few seconds, it’s better than a kick to the jaw.  The interesting thing for the Ironman is that EVERYBODY starts the swim at the same time.  There are no age group waves, so thousands of people start at the same time.  Uh oh…

As the seasons have gone on, I’ve learned more and more about what it takes to race well.  I’ve learned how hard I can push my body.  I’ve researched equipment and training styles and nutrition.  And I steadily extended my race distances.  All of that training has taken me to the point where, last December, I thought I might actually be able to do this Ironman 140.6 thing.

The lessons still come on a regular basis, however.  Notably, I completely messed up my nutrition during the Half Ironman race I entered this summer.  You see, during a Half Ironman, one can easily burn over 5,000 calories – and that’s within just 6 hours of your 24 hour day!  While you’re racing, you need to replenish a good portion of those calories or you will hit a horrible state, commonly referred to as “bonking”.  If you bonk, your goal race time can be forgotten.  You’ll be past the point where you can get enough calories back into your system that you can recover and get back up to speed.  It happened to me this summer.  I miscalculated the formulation of my energy drink that was to be used for 56 miles on the bike and would set me up for the final 13.1 miles of running.  The drink was at about ¼ strength and half-way through the bike, I could no longer keep up.  I didn’t realize then what I had done, but as I walked most of those 13.1 miles, I knew that my body just didn’t have any fuel to use.  While it was an embarrassing day, it was a great message, and I’ll be more prepared in Australia.

After that Vineman Half Ironman, I had one more short race - Malibu.  With that one completed in September, my focus turned to long-distance training.  I’ll cover that, as well as the equipment needed to race in a triathlon, next time.  Until then, keep the messages coming!  I’ve received some great stories already.  Several of you took on a new challenge this past weekend - congrats to those who successfully ran the LA Rock ‘n” Roll half marathon on Sunday!

The Ironman?

Along with my teammates on the Warner Bros. Triathlon Team, I just completed the annual Nautica Malibu Triathlon at Zuma Beach.  The team performed extremely well, achieving 2nd place in the Entertainment Industry Challenge – following back to back wins in 2009 and 2010.  As the team regroups and prepares to take back its rightful place atop the podium in 2012, I’ve decided to take on the greatest physical challenge of my life…

I’m heading Down Under to become an Ironman.  Yeah, you know, that brutal event that’s shown on TV once a year, where, after having given every bit of effort and energy they could muster for miles and miles of swimming, biking, and running, people are absolutely SUFFERING towards the finish.  They’re surrounded by volunteers ready to catch their weakened, stumbling bodies.  They collapse then fight to stand again, and if their legs just won’t work, they literally crawl across the end line as their bodies shut down from overexertion or dehydration…that one.  Well, the one you see on TV is the Ironman Championship on the Big Island of Hawaii.  I’m going to pass on that one and head to Australia instead.  I’ve been all over Hawaii – my parents live on Oahu – but I’ve never been to the Southern Hemisphere and have always wanted to go see what the fuss was about in Aussie-land and New Zealand.  The Western Australia Ironman is the perfect excuse.

Of note, I won’t be the first employee at Warner Bros. to finish an Ironman race.  I’m heading into this inspired by co-workers/friends, Chris Andrew, Jon Myklebust, Lara Klingman, and Matt McCormick who have already blazed the trail with races here in the USA.  Our WB Triathlon Team coach, Mary Kane, also an Ironman veteran, is racing with me in Australia, along with teammates, Chrissy Kane and Gayla Bassin.  The amount of pain I’m about to acquire, I can barely imagine, but at least I know my friends have survived and I’ll have others suffering with me!

You may or may not have heard about this Ironman Triathlon thing, so I’ll do a quick history and race distance explanation.  Modern triathlon started in San Diego in the mid-1970s at a much shorter distance.  A few years after the creation of the event, a U.S. Naval Commander who had been based in San Diego and participated in the original events, suggested that the three long distance championships occurring near his current home should be combined into one ultra distance triathlon.  His home?  The island of Oahu, Hawaii.  The three events: the Waikiki Roughwater Swim (2.4 miles), the Around-Oahu Bike Race (115 miles), and the Honolulu Marathon (26.2 miles).  Note that the bike race itself was a two-day race, however, the Commander wanted to combine all three distances into ONE day.  They chopped off 3 miles of the bike ride to match the finish of the Waikiki swim and the traditional start of the Honolulu marathon.  With that, you have your Ironman: 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and a 26.2 mile run!  Total distance = 140.6 miles…ouch.  Oh, and this has to be completed within 17 hours or you don’t get the chance to cross that finish line.  You’re removed from the race.

There are generally three other triathlon race distances categorized below Ironman.  The next step down is the ½ Ironman which simply chops all of those distances in half, leaving a 1.2 mile swim, a 56 mile bike, and a 13.1 mile run.  Shorter than the ½ Ironman is the International (or Olympic) Distance, which consists of a 1.5 km swim (.93 miles), a 40 km bike (24.85 miles), and a 10 km (6.2 mile) run.  Any triathlon shorter than the International Distance is classified as a Sprint Triathlon.  So Sprints have no set distance designation and can vary from race to race.  The Malibu Triathlon that the WB Tri Team just sped through is a ½ mile swim, 18 mile bike, and a 4 mile run.

So, here I am, just over a month from covering this distance of 140.6 miles, (without resting) wondering how my body will respond, wondering what hurdles will pop up and attempt to derail me, and wondering if I’m just plain crazy to give this a shot.  Yes, I work in a Fitness Center, but this is excessive.  I do have duties at the Center that make it a little tough for me to train for a couple hours a day, let alone the 12 hours I’m hoping to finish within.  I played football, basketball, and ran cross country as a youngster – none of those require anywhere near the endurance nor quite the mental discipline to be able to survive 140.6 miles.

How AM I going to do this?  Well, from today through race day, I’m going to share my journey with you.  I’m hoping it inspires you to set a large fitness goal and try to tackle it yourself.  You don’t need to strive for an Ironman.  It should be your own high hurdle to jump.  Pick something out there and go for it.  Make it something you like to do or you think you’ll like.  Set an extreme goal, but include some attainable targets to overcome first.  Achieving little successes along the way will keep you motivated to fight on.  Please share your stories and bumps in the road with me in the comments section below.  Each of us has a new level of fitness/wellness to attain.  It’s not going to be easy, but hardly anything that you really want ever is, right?

Let’s do this!