This is the second article relating to this trip. If you missed the first part of the trip report, you can find it HERE. Here is the Race Report. Warning: IT IS VERY LONG!
Before getting in the race report itself, I wanted to mention how much I enjoyed this race. In the months prior to the race, I met several people that were multiple Ironman finishers that told me that IMLP was their favorite race ever. While I thought it looked like a very nice race, I thought these people were exaggerating. After all, I heard people talking a lot of good about IM70.3 Muskoka, and while I thought it was a good race, I did not think it stood out that much.
But now I know what they meant. This was really an awesome venue and experience and it will be hard to find something even close to it. I mentioned it in my previous post: the area is superb, the course is awesome and varied, people are the nicest ever and the Ironman spirit lives strong there. The race was very well put on, and there were 3000 volunteers for ~2500 participants. You felt like a rock star for a day. So I can only say good things about this race. Highly recommend it. There are some rumors that this race may disappear, and I really hope it’s not the case because I would not mind doing it again in a couple of years.
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SATURDAY
In my previous report, I forgot to mention that after Saturday’s morning 10’ swim on the course, we actually stumbled upon a guy giving a speech on the beach to a fairly large group of people. Turns out it was Patrick McCrann one of the 2 coaches from Endurance Nation. Endurance Nation is a pretty big group and I remember looking into them when looking for a program or a coach in 2009. They do things a bit differently and it seems to work for a lot of people at least on the short term. We missed the beginning but we sat through the speech. It was pretty good as there was a lot of information on race execution and particularities of the IMLP course. I knew most of this stuff, but it was nice to hear it again just before race day. Turns out it would help me overcome some issues I would encounter on race day.
Race within your BOX. The BOX is “everything you can control”. Anything outside the box, don’t dwell on it. You can’t control it so if you obsess about anything outside your box, you are in for a very long day. A good portion of the speech is about race pacing and how the race only starts at mile 18 of the run.He was recording himself and put the speech on YouTube. The first part is about IM race execution in general. If you have some time, I recommend it! You can find it HERE. He’s a pretty good speaker too, with some humor thrown in there. Parts 2 to 4 relate a bit more to the IMLP course itself. (part2, part3, part4). He was racing too, and finished 5th in my Age Group in 9h56.
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RACE DAY
For some reason, it took me longer than usual to fall asleep Saturday night. The BIG day was finally arriving… We woke up a bit before 4am from the sound of people in the room above us starting to get going. I stayed in bed till 4h20. Then I proceeded with my pre-race routine of shaving, getting dressed, applying sunscreen, etc. I had my usual endurance race breakfast: toasted bagel with PB, a banana, a shake of Ensure (meal replacement) and a pill of caffeine this time. I did not want to drink Pepsi and risk getting bloated in the swim. And going out without caffeine would surely not be a good idea. Then it was time to pack everything needed (nutrition and computer for the bike) and head to the race site.
Our hotel was not too far from the race site, but far enough that you do not want to walk that far (and these hills) on race morning. So we drove to one of the race parking lots and used a shuttle to get to transition.
Downtown was crazy with movement already. First step: body marking.
Then it was time to head in transition, put the bottles, nutrition, and computer on the bike ready to go. Checked the air pressure in the tires, starting gear, make sure brakes were not rubbing, all ready to go. Quick bathroom stop, but no go for #2 unfortunately.
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Before too long, I heard the disturbing news: water temperature was 0.9 degrees above threshold at 77 deg F. That meant we were in the “gray zone” regarding the wear of wetsuits: wetsuits can be worn but if doing so you are not eligible to Age Group Awards or Kona Slots. Now that really sucked. Tragedy! Wetsuits ALWAYS have been allowed in the history of this race. Nobody expected this as a possibility. I was kind of torn in making a decision here. That gray zone deal is BAD: either allow everybody to wear the suit, or ban it completely. Quick glance around shows that MOST people are deciding to go with the suit. Bad outlook… While being a contender for Kona Slot on my first IM was very unlikely, I felt like using the suit would be kind of cheating a bit. Also, if I did have the race of my life, finishing in the first 10 positions of my very competitive AG was not impossible.
So I kind of decide to leave the suit in transition and start heading to the beach, questioning this decision on my way out. I see Corinne on my way to the beach, ask what she thinks, mention why I am still considering using the suit (first IM, crowded swim with slower suited swimmer, even mention there is a greater risk of losing my watch).
See, the suit makes you float. Provides safety. Also, it makes you much faster and/or makes you spend less energy. The problem with a mixed field is that by going without a suit I now had a bunch of normally-slower-wetsuit-swimmers that would be the same speed as me, making for a much more crowded swim.
But Corinne agrees with my first decision and tells me I should go without the suit. I decide to not let that bother me too much: after all it’s outside “My BOX” and I can’t control the temperature of the lake hehe!
I decided to swim with my tri top, which is not ideal as it slows me down (it’s one size too large too for comfort during the long race, so it adds drag in the water). I had my Garmin 310XT on my wrist – I did all my races with it since the beginning of times. I REALLY should have left it in transition.
Dropped my Special Need Bags and went to the beach where I ran into David Orchard, also from the Windsor Area. I asked him if he was using the wetsuit and he chuckled saying he would not go without to save his life. That brought some doubts back in my mind, knowing he was a much stronger & faster swimmer than I was *glup!*. I talked to him later and he said he had a crazy FAST swim (57’) and that he had clear water after the start. That would prove to be quite different from my experience….
A look around the beach shows MANY more wetsuits than not. Turns out that only 1 person out of 5 chose to go without wetsuit according to the final results). That means 80% of people suited up.
Still, held my decision. I would have liked to hit the toilet before going in the water, but there was only 7 or 8 of them for 2500 people at the beach. The lines were so long, I could not make out the start of the line. So I had to forget about that idea…
15’ before start, I entered the water, went towards Corinne and my parents to say high while warming up then headed to my chosen start spot: far off the right side of the course. Without wetsuit, I went to the point where I could touch the ground, about 3-4 people behind the start line. Gun went off for the Pros, which meant we were coming up 10’ later. Water may have been too warm for wetsuit, but I was freezing my butt of waiting for the start. I was actually shaking at the end.
SWIM
Then Mike Riley sent us on our way: “HAVE THE BEST DAY OF YOUR LIFE!!!” and the gun went off. CRAZYNESS! Within 5 seconds, I was hit twice on my left arm, I look, and I see my bare wrist… WHAAAT??! Garmin 310XT GPS watch enroute to the bottom of the lake. It did not last 5 seconds. No times to dwell on this as hundreds of people are behind ready to swim over me. So I had to start going in the craziness that a mass start is. Contacts everywhere, getting hit and bumped from all directions for a couple of minutes. My mind is racing about the implications of losing my GPS watch for the race. I do not panic on the way out on the course, but I am really not comfortable. I bump into people at the front; people are bumping into me from the sides and back. I lift my head trying to find a quieter place to navigate to, but it’s the same everywhere around. So I just kept going.
Here are some links to YOUTUBE videos of the swim start. Pretty Crazy… I was at the extreme right of the start line.
SWIM START VIDEOS (YouTube)
video 1 (from the back)
Video 2 (from the pier)
Video 3 (from my side)
Thinking about the watch helped disconnect a bit from the situation. I did not panic about this either (remembering “THE BOX” of things I can’t control). The watch is lost. What can I do about this? While swimming, I realize that for the bike I am good: I have the bike computer which also connects to the power meter. I had redundancy there. The problem is for the run, where all my training is based on pace. Then I remember that my bike computer is also GPS based. If the battery lasts long enough, I just need to put it in my tri suit pocket at the end of the bike, and I will get time, distance, heart rate and speed for the run. With the backup plan in place, my thoughts went back to swimming, which I knew was not going too well. The first turn was CRAZY! I kept wide the whole swim course so I most likely swam much longer than the official 3.8 km.
I swear I clearly remember thinking I would get nightmares about that swim.
Before the race, I was hoping for a 1h02 to 1h06 swim split (I was under 30’ at REV3 for 1.9km). Without wetsuit, I guess I would have liked 1h05 to 1h10.
When I got out of the water at the end of the 1st loop, I look at the race clock and I see 44:xx. I was devastated for a few seconds. What? I was looking at a 1h26 swim split? I knew things were NOT going well, but not THAT bad! I catched my breath staying in motion, waived my family while re-entering the water for another go. See in the 3rd picture below how close people are to me even if the field is less crowded (I am at the end of the arrow).
I was hoping for less traffic, but it did not feel that way as I was surrounded by swimmers the whole way. I tried to focus better on my form and catch some feet on the return to shore. After the last turn, missing bathroom stop caught up with me and some of the return was not quite comfortable as I suddenly needed to go pretty bad (#2 of course).
Out of the water… I am not bright, quite shaken by the swim, and you can see it in the pictures. But I was alive and happy this leg was done! I started to make my way to transition, navigating around people on their butts getting their wetsuits stripped by the volunteers.
I was quite ways out when I started wondering about my swim time, turned around trying to peek at the clock now far back, and thought I saw 1:09:xx. Huh? Not great but not as bad as I feared. Turns out the first time I look, they had the PRO clock running which had an extra 10’ (they left at 6h50 am, we left at 7h00).
SWIM SPLIT: 3.8 km in 1:09:08 (1:49 pace) > that did not impress the coach to say the least hehe!
That put me in 537th position overall (out of 2500+), 98th in my Age Group. Not a great start.
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TRANSITION 1 – 6:16
My budget for both transitions was 7’ based on analysis from last year’s results so I was longer than I planned for here. We do have a lot of ground to cover out of the swim. Also, I do not run very fast bare feet. Somehow, I need to improve on that for next year. Here’s the path from the beach to the transition area.
Once I reached the transition area, I quickly found my T1 bag (I had put green tape on my bag to spot it quickly) and headed to the change tent. I did not sit, I just put on my sunglasses, put on my helmet, grabbed my shoes and started running towards the bike. But stopping to the toilet first was not optional following the end of the swim: I had to address the situation. So I lost a couple of minutes there explaining the long T1 time despite a simple transition.
Still, even with that relatively slow transition I gained 83 positions overall and 17 positions in my Age Group in T1 alone. That speaks for itself! So I started the bike in 454th position overall.
I ran with my shoes in my hand (can’t run with bike shoes, and it hurts my knee), grabbed my bike, ran way past the mount line, put my bike on the fence while I put the shoes on and then hopped on my bike.
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BIKE – 180 km
Overall the bike went pretty well. I may have gone a very slightly bit too hard in first hour, but that’s debatable. I slowed down a very little bit in the second loop, but not much and it was mostly intentional.
Because of the swim situation, the first 15 km of the bike were really crowded, but I quickly passed hundreds of people – literally.
I did not think the bike course was hard at all, quite the contrary. The Kensington Park training rides did their job. The course was simply AWESOME and weather was perfect to enjoy it. T The descent to Keene was quite impressive, where I got around 75 km/h without pushing too hard. Can’t say I am too comfortable riding down in curves at these speeds on a 19 lbs bike… but it went well.
Race Director scared us a bit about the road condition at the briefing, but it was not too crowded by the time I got there, and with the road closed to cars, plenty of space to pick a good line. Due to the nature of the course (lots of climbing sections), I did not have big issues with back pain like I had sometimes in training.
After the long “out-and-back” on the first loop, I stopped at the top of the hill for ~2 minutes to inspect my front wheel which started to crack very loudly when putting the weight on the front end – and with the speeds we were getting in the descents, I did not want to risk ignoring this. I could not find anything by visual inspection, so I resumed. I lost 1 minute in the process according to my Garmin. It was annoying to see all the people I passed before, again. Amazing how many positions you can lose in a minute.
Got the nutrition plan going – with a few mishaps: rear pockets on LPC tri top are not too reliable so I happened to lose 2 bars during the ride, which I temporarily placed there to negotiate turns or technical sections. No sweat though, I just replaced with course-provided nutrition.
No issues in the long climb back to town: as Computrainer simulations showed, the grade is small for the most part. It was amazing to see the crowd support at the “Papa Bear” steeper climb back to town. It was great to see Corinne and my family at that spot. High Fives were in order
Supporters and entertainment took many forms during the race, between a person playing pipes in a curve somewhere, the dancing bananas, and the multiple funny speedo-wearing dudes
I flew by the special needs bag area since I did not need anything. I was still impressed to see that by the time I got there, a volunteer was holding MY bag in the air: I could have grabbed it while rolling if needed.Here’s how the area looked like. Then my mother and her husband Pierre, not far from the “Papa Bear” hill to cheer me out.
I was not too bummed to have to start the second loop (as I was afraid I would) and got on my way. I was much closer to the front of the race by then, so very little traffic on the second loop. I was almost alone on my descent to Keene.
I managed to re-lube my private areas while rolling (don’t try this at home hehe!) in an area with no spectators and only one bike a bit behind me. This worked for a while, but a while later, I decided to stop for my 2nd bathroom stop (had to pee and could not bring myself to do it on bike) and re-lube correctly. I lost 3 minutes there according to Garmin. That would be my last bathroom stop of the day (only 2 in total) so I can’t complain too much. But still, if I would be competing at the pointy end of my Age Group, these stops are REALLY doing damage…
To give you an idea of how much support we got from the volunteers, here’s a good example. When I stopped at the aid station for the toilet stop, I just threw my bike on the rack beside it and went in, did not see anybody around. When I get out of there, I was actually surprised by what I saw: a volunteer was holding my bike, ready to go, pointing in the right direction and asking me if I needed anything to eat or drink before resuming.
Not too long after that, I ran into somebody that did not have my inhibitions. I was coming up on him, and I saw him taking a quick glance behind before I noticed liquid coming out from everywhere. I had to swerve left at the last minute to avoid the shower (yeah.. pee!) not nice. At least I avoided it all.
After 160 km, then I started to find the bike tougher and was looking forward to get off it. That’s where all the climbing comes back too, not helping matters. But before too long, I was hitting Papa Bear hill again with the crowd support. Just after, we are in town, cheering crowds screaming, many turns to negotiate, starting to think about what needs to happen in transition to keep things moving…
Again, kudos to Corinne for taking all these great pictures. Here’s one from the event photog:
I hop off my bike at the dismount line, give the bike to a volunteer and head off to the bags and change tents.
BIKE SPLIT: 180 km in 5:25:47 at 33.2 km/h average. Not too bad since it includes 4 minutes stopped. That was the 78th fastest bike split of the day, but here the goal is not to be the fastest… you need to be able to run a marathon afterwards. It does you no good to post the fastest bike time if you have to walk half of the run segment.
I passed 355 people on the bike leg, so I got off my bike in 99th position overall. In my Age Group, gained 54 places putting me off the bike in 27th position.
If you are into data, my race weight was about 159 lbs and my Normalized Power for the bike ride was 226 watts for the complete ride (235w and 217 w for loops 1 and 2) which was right on target. Variability Index was at 1.05, also right on target. Complete GPS and power data is available here: http://tpks.ws/QFyZ
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TRANSITION 2 – 2:47
Not too bad - this included putting lube cream between 2 problematic toes on right foot and putting socks. This was worth it since I came out of the race without even a single blister (and I always have some in my long runs even when I cream up!) However this brings my total combined transition time at 9’, two minutes over budget.Seems like I lost 2 positions overall in T2 but gained another one in my Age Group, starting the run in 26th position.
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RUN 42.2 km
Now… Did anybody notice something missing in the report of the end of my bike segment? That’s right… no mention about removing the GPS Garmin Edge 500 from the bike and putting it in my pocket. Too long of a day, too much action near the end of the bike course, and by the time I realized I forgot that, I was running out of transition. I am the guy looking at his watch every other minute when running. I constantly look at my pace, compare it to my goal times and adjust as needed. At the end of races, the data is what’s kicking my butt to up the effort to meet my goals.Here I am, starting my first marathon ever - inside an Ironman race nonetheless- and I have no clue about what time it is or what pace I am running. When I saw Corinne, I stopped to hug her briefly and told her “I have no idea what speed I am running at! I have no watch!”. Here I am starting the run, in full LPC outfit including run cap.
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After one mile, I asked a spectator what time it was to get an idea of overall timing. At least, since we all started at 7:00 am, easy to figure out the race time.
Not knowing my speed, and after hearing the “Endurance Nation” speech the day before, I slowed my run more than I thought I needed to be more cautious. I tried to think of a pace I could hold all day. I asked the time a few times as I was going along, either from competitors or spectators, but no way to compute pace reliably. The run course was really not crowded on my first lap and I was moving pretty well.
Without my watch, I also decided right away to power walk the first aid stations and make sure to hydrate well, eat some calories, cool myself properly (it was starting to get hot under the sun) then run before the end of the aid station. Kept running outside aid stations, but I stopped at each aid station. In retrospect, while it was a safe thing to do, it was not a good idea. More on that later…Here I am, putting ice cubes in my mouth in one of those aid stations.
I got a bad feeling early as I noticed the course kept going mostly downhill for the first leg out. That meant a lot of climbing on the way back! It seemed like the turnaround was never coming…
On my return, asked a guy with a Garmin that caught me but running at the same speed at the time what kind of pace we were doing. He said ~8:00 mile >> I was right on target at that moment. I was happy with that.
I ran uphill back to town, making sure to bring the effort down when going up. I saw my family and Corinne and it was nice to get this support. It gave me an energy boost every time. Here I am attacking the uphill to town.
Corinne told me that Essex competitor David Orchard was roughly 4’ before me which surprised me. I did not know he was such a strong cyclist! Here’s David Orchard, a bit ahead of me at this time.He really had a great race going too.
First loop ended, I was still feeling good, and also knowing it was mostly downhill for the next bit. Saw my family and Corinne again, and I told them I was still feeling pretty good at the half mark. Corinne told me Dave was now at around 2’ ahead. I guess he was hitting a rough patch because that meant I gained a lot of ground in only a couple of kilometers. Still feeling decently good below passed the halfway point…
Sure enough, not 5 minutes later, I saw him about 100m in front of me. That distance stayed constant for a while as we were walking (aid stations) and running the same bits. But about 1 km later, I passed him, gave him a word wishing him luck. I did not know then, but I was about to hit “my wall” soon after.
Not long after, around the 17 mile marker, things got much rougher and I started to walk longer at the aid stations. Before too long, I was walking (with purpose though) any kind of uphill terrain regardless of the grade. I would resume running on flats and downhills. I had to think and focus on reaching the next aid station.. then the next mile marker, etc. to keep moving. Dave caught up then and we stayed together for a while, encouraging each other to keep moving and run when possible together. We sometimes briefly split but only to get back together a bit later. I bugged him at numerous occasions about what time it was and if we were on pace to do sub 11 hours, which became an obsession now knowing that I would not be anywhere I originally wanted to be, time wise.
I somehow fell behind him powerwalking the bigger hill downtown about 4 km from the end: he was walking faster than me up the hill. I guess he felt better and could run the rest afterwards because he managed to put 3’ on me before the finish line which was not so far anymore (I walked a few more times very briefly).
Now why did I walk so much? I really wish I had the GPS data to analyze things out. I have no idea if I started the run too fast or not. While I met my target power on the bike, was my target a bit too high? I was at 74% FTP which is much higher than the usual 60-70% recommendation. Was my run volume a bit on the low side in training, barely above 40km/week due to injuries? Or was it mostly a question of mental strength? Probably a combination of all these.
When I think about it, I never felt as bad as I did in Orlando last year at my first 70.3. Only a few times some muscles in the inside of the leg (Hip Flexor?) gave up and forced me to walk a few steps before resuming.
I think mental strength was a biggie here. See, walking all the aid stations may have helped avoiding getting out too hard. On the other hand when things started to get real tough around mile 17, your body and your mind knows too well the relief that walking brings. And you walked so many times already (17 to be exact), what’s one more time? See, that’s an evil loop. Before you know, “walking the aid stations” becomes walking a bit before, during and after the aid stations.
Anyway… back to the race, I had to go one last time up the side of the lake before turning around back to town for the last 2 km. Again, asked the time to a few spectators on my way up, still worried about the 11h mark hehe!
I really never thought I could be emotional about finishing this race – after all, it’s like any other races, just a bit longer (and that’s what it is really) – but being so close to the finish line I started to think about how far I’ve come since being a couch potato, losing 70 lbs and about all the sacrifices both me and Corinne made leading to this day. And here I was, a few minutes from the finish line of an Ironman race. When I let these thought happen, I have to say that I shivered a few times and my eyes were about to get wet…
Kept going to the last intersection where you have to go left for another loop (NOOOO!) or right for the finish line (YEESSS!) Felt good to go right this time!
I entered the Olympic Oval and the crowd was huge and vocal. I sensed somebody coming up behind me running fast, and my first impulse was to accelerate to avoid giving a position. Turns out it was a girl. After accelerating for a bit, I decided to slow down (quite a bit actually) to enjoy my finish and get a decent finish picture. I was nowhere near the pointy end of the field anyway and there was no point in fighting her and getting a messy finishing picture.
RUN SPLIT: Run 42.2 km in 3:57:46 at an average pace of 5:38/km, giving up 60 spots overall and 18 in my division. I am quite far off the mark from my expectations of a 3h30 run split, but all things considered, it’s not too bad of a first time. Not sure if I would have done better with my GPS watch, but I am pretty sure I would have. I like reaching my goals and seeing them slip away in real-time would have kicked my butt more I am sure.
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FINISH LINE
I passed the line with the smile(well.. I meant it to be a smile but it may look like a rictus) arms up in victory
I saw Corinne, my mother and Pierre on the other side and waved them. I FREAKING DID IT!
TOTAL TIME = 10:41:42
Position Overall = 161 /2500+
Position Age Group = 44 /302
Volunteers stayed with me for a while, making sure I was OK.
When I walked toward Corinne past the finish line, emotions took the better of me again. I hugged her tight and let everything go.
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