Where does it hurt?

It's now been 4 days since completing Ironman and I still get the question – how do you feel? Surprisingly, I feel o.k. In fact, other than being a little fatigued, I've feel surprisingly good.

The day after Ironman, I could have physically gone to work. I was sore and chafed. Going up stairs or getting out of a chair was a little difficult, but overall physically I was o.k. I was pretty tired mentally though and I decided to take the day off and relax. My wife and I went to lunch, bought a "finisher" shirt and then went to our son's ball game. The next day was much the same. I went to work, was sore and found I wasn't as mentally sharp as normal.

Today, I feel like I could go for a bike ride or run. It wouldn't be pretty, but I could do it. I'm not going to because I probably need to rest. However, I probably will Friday. I've felt a void (a welcome one) in my everyday schedule. I am not rushing off to go swim or trying to figure out how to get 3 hours in on the bike before the end of the day. It's nice. But I am already starting to feel like I need to get out the door and either run or bike – just not in the extremes that I had been doing.

Yep, I’m an Ironman

I rushed down the finish line shoot, pumping my fist and feeling like a conquering hero – what great feeling. Fifteen minutes later, I was shivering under a blanket wondering why I ever wanted to take on an Ironman.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The day started at 2 a.m. As planned, I got something to eat, and went back to bed for a few hours. Everything had been laid out the night before, so when the alarm went off again at 4 a.m., all I had to do was grab food bags from the fridge. My wife had to wake up our sleepy kids and put them in the car (they were great and supportive on a very long day).

We arrived at the transition area and I set up my bike. Then, I got my numbers drawn on me, said good bye to the wife and kids and started walking to the swim start (the start was adjusted to almost a mile away because the current was too hard).

I was nervous – worried about the bike ride (my wife says it's the most nervous she's ever seen me). I'd never biked more than 80 miles and was usually pretty darn tired after those rides. I had confidence that I'd make the entire 112 miles, but wasn't too certain what I might have left afterwards. I have to admit it kept me from completely enjoying the morning.

Unlike the typical Ironman start, we were lined up single file for the swim. We entered the water around two at a time by jumping off a dock. As a result, it wasn't very congested at all. I swam to the outside and rarely was in contact with a body. The swim was relatively easy and I did pretty well considering that I didn't exert myself. I came out of the water feeling pretty good and ready to take on the ride.

The transition area at Louisville seemed pretty long. I didn't mess around and it still took me 7 minutes from swim to run and 14 minutes from bike to run. You really have to go a while to get to the bikes and change tent.

After changing as fast as I could, I jumped on my bike and headed out. Initially my heart rate was high because of the swim, but eventually it calmed down and I settled in. Thirty minutes went by and I started to think – "geez I still have 6 ½ hours of this – how am I going to do it. How am I going to stand it?" I made myself only think about that moment. However, throughout the day – it was a constant battle to not think about the enormous amount of miles that lay ahead.

Two hours later, as we headed into the LaGrange festival, I saw my first ring of salt appear on my shorts. For me, it meant that my body was working a little harder than it should and I needed to get more salt in me. Even though my heart rate was low, I had this sense that my body was fatiguing more quickly than it should. I really was trying not to think about it, but I started then to worry about how I was going to take on the challenge of the marathon.

It was also around then that I saw people start to pull over after cramping up (or to throw up). I don't enjoy someone hurting – but it was oddly encouraging to see that others were having a harder time of it than me.

The bike ride is fairly solitary. There are spectators but they are spread out and you whizz by them. What you are left with are the cyclists around you who usually grunt "to your left" or make a quick comment about how a hill is hurting them. As the day progresses, cyclists grow even quieter, putting their head down and simply watching the road in front of them.

But going into LaGrange was different (we went through twice), folks were lined up on the street cheering. It's uplifting and you had to smile as you went by. Unfortunately, you go by quick. I barely saw my wife and saw her on only one of the trips through. Then it was back to the road and your thoughts.

My thoughts were growing more concerned (of what thoughts I could process). Once I made it around the first loop of LaGrange, I knew I'd complete the bike ride. But the big question was at what price? I'd never gone beyond 80 miles in a bike ride and I found myself incurring problems that hadn't come up in training. My head was starting to swim and despite my planning, the nutrition wasn't going well. My stomach was beginning to get upset and I could tell I needed more salt in my system. My feet started to get numb and sore from the pedaling. I was very uncomfortable and every minute on the bike seemed to creep by. I wanted off so badly. I saw people walk up hills with their bikes – it started to look like a good idea.

The last part of the ride is flat and coming back into Louisville. It was an easy stretch and it gave me time to try and get my thoughts together. I knew that once got off the bike, I could walk the entire way and still make the cutoff. However, I wondered if my body was going to be capable of doing even that. I had this feeling that if I pressed it, things would just start shutting down.

I came down River Road and into the bike finish. I was happy yet reserved. I was anxious to see what I had left. Stepping off the bike, I could feel I had a blister under one of my feet. My stomach was nauseous and my head was in a fog. The good news was that I felt I could at least walk to the finish. However, I'd have to be careful not to push it too hard.

The bike to run transition at Ironman Louisville takes forever (it took me 14 minutes). It's a long walk to the tent (some of it done with a bike) and a long walk (and I was definitely walking) back. Despite the slow time, I didn't mess around too much, talked briefly to my family, got some sunscreen put on me and had to go back to get my sunglasses – then it was out to the run.

I forced myself to run the first mile of the marathon – and my legs felt pretty good. But my stomach was in pain and every step made me want to throw up. I started to walk. I walked the next 4 miles. My stomach didn't feel any better. I started to think how crappy it would be if I walked the entire Ironman course. I didn't feel like that would be very "Ironman" of me. I needed to run a decent portion of it, otherwise it would cheapen the experience – this was my rational as I started to run after mile 5.

It was here that I discovered the oddity of my stomach issues: If I ran, the stomach pain and dizziness would go away. As soon as I stopped, it returned. So I would run to an aid station and stop, feel sick again and spend the next half mile or so trying to convince myself to run because it would feel better (which was a hard argument to win because it didn't make sense). This head battle went on for most of the race while I also started to put food in my stomach that, from past marathon experience, I knew worked for me.

Around mile 20, my stomach was starting to feel better. My legs were still not too bad and I started to run from station to station.

Walking in the Ironman is pretty common – particularly in the latter stages of the race – more people than not are doing it. Competitors are just tanked. As I picked up the pace in the last 4 miles I evidently stood out from the spectators. They started calling out my number and telling me I was an Ironman and that it was awesome that I could finish as strong as I was. This of course encouraged me and I picked up the pace even more. Rather than walk through stations, I grabbed water and kept running. I could feel the finish line coming. I could hear the crowd and music. I was going strong. I was doing 7:30 miles for the last 3 miles. I was going to finish this thing.

You turn a couple corners onto 4^th Street and it's there that you hit the crowd. They are loud, close and uplifting. I pretty much sprinted to the finish. "I did it. It did not beat me. I was strong enough." were my thoughts as I ran down the shoot pumping my fist. Then I hit the line and the volunteers grabbed me and put a medal around my neck. They propped me up and told me my family was yelling at me, posed me for pictures for them and then got me something to drink.

After they took me to get my picture taken for a finisher shot, I told them I thought I was ok and they left. My family then came around and congratulated me. They had flowers and presents. They were probably happier than I was.

And that was because I could feel that I was fading. I've done plenty of marathons and never felt this tapped out. I knew that I needed to refuel quickly or I was going to be in trouble. We walked to the food area and I tried to get some pizza in me. Despite knowing I had to eat, I couldn't. Things started to get fuzzy and I told my wife we needed to get me to the medical area. It was there that an hour with an IV stuck in me allowed me to gain my senses.

I felt good enough to gather my bike and take it home. Doing this usually simple task was my last show of "will" of the day. When I got home to bed, I was in a deep sleep in a second – too tired to reflect on the day.

So it's done. Two days later I'm still tired but feeling pretty good. I've gone through many emotions from pride, to wanting to do better, to never wanting to do it again to thinking about doing it again someday. It'll take some time to sort out.

For now, I'm going to enjoy not having so much of a hectic schedule. Tonight (although it'll hurt really bad) I'm going to play catch with my son and not work out. That sounds pretty good right now.

The day before

Today I've got to prepare for tomorrow, watch my son play a little league game (while trying to keep cool) and then drop my bike off at the tranisition area. Then, that's it. I sit around the house and try not to climb the walls.

I'm not anxious because I'm worried about time or a certain aspect of the race (ok maybe a little of cycling). I'm more anxious because I don't know how much effort and pain this is going to take and I don't know how I'm going to handle it.

Walking around this weekend amongst the new triathletes and the expereinced ones – you'll see many shapes and sizes. Most are in pretty good shape, some look like they have no body fat whatsoever and some – well you worry about their safety trying to take this on. I certainly have body fat to lose but I haven't felt out of place – probably self concious because I've never done something like this.

I've been honored by the amount of folks that have wished me well. It means a lot to hear that people may want to go for a goal or try to get a little more healthy by reading what I've gone through. It's why I started writing this journal and for the KHF magazine. Thanks to everyone.

I had some bumps in the road but by and large, I've accomplished everything I've wanted to do except the event itself. I guess we'll get to that tomorrow.

You can't get to this point without some tolerance of friends and family and their help as well. I'm grateful to have people that put up with my eccentricities such as these.

I've put a picture of my new jersey with my number up – if you see me – give me a hollar. Most of all, just come out and give all the contestents some encourgement. Believe me, they deserve it.

It’s here

I've spent the last few days enjoying the preparations for Ironman – it's been nice having it in my backyard.

Thursday, picked up my packet of stuff soon after registration opened. Registering for Ironman is like registering at the emergency room. They sit you down; describe what each bag, sticker or flyer means. Then they have you sign the waiver and send you over to the scales so that they have the right weight - should you fall over from dehydration and they need to know what you weighed before you started.

For a newbie like me, it got "real" quick. It's really quite a sobering experience.

Nice goodie bag though – hat, shirt and cool Ironman bag.

The expo was nice - but not large. Nothing like you would see at a major marathon. Still, I usually have to shop on line to find triathlon stuff and it was nice to see it in person.

A week ago I swam in the Ohio and found it to be fairly tame. This morning I swam in a completely different Ohio River.

Rain has been pretty heavy up river (but not here) and the current has really picked up. As a result, they've altered the course to keep it closer to the shores on the trip up – presumably making the course much easier. I heard some athletes grumbling that they felt like they were cheating if the course was easier – only triathletes could feel this way.

They had a practice swim this morning – what a wild swim. If you head out into the current and away from the shore –it's like swimming on a treadmill. I saw good swimmers stroking away going just inches at a time. I headed fairly far out toward a bouy and as I approached it – the last 3 yards must have taken three minutes. Then – as I went around it – I felt the rush of the current and I barely had to move as I rushed down the river. My greatest difficulty was making sure I didn't overshoot the stairs in. I saw a couple people miss it and it looked like they were having a difficult time getting back.

On race day, this may make a huge difference in time. One guy said he went upstream for 16 minutes and came back in 1 minute. If the upstream isn't too bad because of the altered course and the back is in the current – I might break an hour (and that's not because of any skill on my part!)

Tonight is the dinner banquet and then – the day before.

Hey look I’m on tv

The folks at Ironman asked me to be the example of the average competitor in Ironman – so I got to address the media (which is funny since I'm kind of a member of the media) at the unveiling of the finish line yesterday.

They got my last name wrong (as a guy in newspapers I suppose it's payback) and it felt a little weird to have cameras pointed at me – but it was a fun experience and hopefully it'll get some people out to see the spectacal.

Click here for the broadcast.

Take me to the river

By far, I've heard the most worry over the swim in the Ohio River from participants and spectators. I was a little skeptical myself. Yesterday, my coach, Nancy McElwain of Train Smart arranged a "wet run" for her clients.

About five of us met a little farther up the river than the actual swim, but I believe the conditions were similar. We took off at 7:30 and did about half the distance of the actual race. I have to say it was fairly anti-climatic. The water was lukewarm (doesn't look good for the folks hoping for wetsuit conditions) and the water was very smooth. It was only treading water waiting to start that I noticed the current. When actually swimming, you don't feel it and because we really didn't have anything close to site, we couldn't tell we were going any faster or slower than normal. But we were going slower – it took us about 26 minutes going out and about half that going back (and I it easier going back).

At around 8:30 the waves started picking up a little and it got a bit rocky. I'd think more than an hour of that type of movement would affect your equilibrium. But other than that short bit of time, the swimming conditions were great – no guarantee on race day though.

I did go down to the river and take some pictures of the Great Lawn for folks that read this and are out of town. Here you go:

Single digits

Today marks 9 days till Ironman Louisville. It also marks the first day that the weather is forecasted (10 day forecast that is). It's becoming more real every day – which is causing me increasing anxiety – which is making me grumpier. I can tell you that my wife will be happy when this is over.

As of today, the forecast for Ironman Louisville is a high of 90 degrees with some chance of rain. After the recent heat wave, 90 degrees seems almost winter like. Of course this far out, that can change quickly. But the heat is what I'm most worried about – to me, short of a crash, it's the only thing that could keep me from completing the event. I think most of the anxiety comes from the knowledge that I don't know what I'm about to encounter. The unknown is always a bit scary and despite logically knowing I should be able to at least waddle through this – I'm still apprehensive about what the day will bring.

Know that my training is winding down – I'm ready to get this over with.

Weight up

When I began to train for Ironman Louisville, I knew that I'd be pushing my body harder than I'd ever pushed it before. Naturally, I thought that I'd also see the benefits weight wise. The funny thing is that I weigh about the same as I did at the start of my training. I started at around 178 and I've finished around 176 – this despite training around 12 hours a week. If I had put in the same amount of time running over the past six months, I'd bet I'd weigh around 165 or less. The difference is that I've gained a bunch of muscle in my chest and arms. It's not that I suddenly look like a body builder. It has more to do that I had no muscle at all in my chest and arms when I only ran. So the truth is that despite my weight being about the same (it dipped down to 170 before heading back up), my body is much more tone and a little thinner.

The old runner in me pays attention to the weight a little more than most because I know that every pound makes it that much harder (and longer) to complete the marathon. At 176, this will be the heaviest I've weighed going into a marathon. But it's also probably the best overall shape I've been in – so who knows. I may run a marathon a month or so after Ironman to see how slow or fast I am with the added pounds.

What you need

I try to prepare for long rides the night before. I'm not a morning person and it's likely I'll forget to bring along something the next morning in my fogged rush to get out the door. While I prepare and load my gu, water, salt tablets, oatmeal and raisin bars, Gatorade and nutrient drink I'm struck on the difference between what we eat and what we need to survive.

What I load onto my bike is hardly gourmet food – in fact it's hard to call it food. It is more or less the stripped down version of a meal or the bare minimum of what you need to peddle a bike for 6 hours (in solid, liquid and pill form). While a couple of cheeseburgers could probably get you through a long ride – these nutrients have been consolidated and largely deflavorized for easy consumption. It's a sad commentary on what we devour on a daily basis versus what we need. It's no wonder the country has the weight problem it does. Of course that still doesn't stop me from having pizza, coke and breadsticks after a long ride.

With Ironman Louisville only three weeks away I biked a couple loops around the LaGrange portion of the course (over 80 miles) this past weekend. After that, I ran 40 minutes. By the time I got off the bike it was in the 90's. While I didn't speed through the workout, I was happy that I tolerated the heat as well as I did. The last two weeks have probably been the most extreme of my training – it's downhill after this. Could I be better prepared? You bet. But I think I'm ready to at least make an attempt.

Hot hot hot

Of course one of the advantages of living next to the Ironman course is that you get to train on the course and also train in similar conditions that might occur on Ironman Louisville race day. Right now I almost wished I didn't know what type of conditions might occur. Let's hope that temperatures on race day aren't similar to the last few days here in the Louisville area. It's been really hot. And not just really hot, but it hurts to breath hot. And it's humid as well. If you stand outside for more than two minutes – you'll start to soak your clothes – five minutes and you're going to need a shower and a change.

It's hard enough thinking about taking on Ironman, taking it on in these conditions would be downright scary.

Long Day

In doing marathons, I love the event – I hate the workouts, especially the long ones. I suspect the same will be true in the Ironman. Don't get me wrong, a regular day of running or swimming or biking is great, but there is nothing regular about training for a marathon or triathlon. Sooner or later it becomes extreme. That's the part I don't like.

In training for a marathon and a triathlon, the hardest workouts come about 4 weeks before the race. Well, it's four weeks before Ironman and I just had my toughest week yet.

I'd been dreading the week for a long time. The week consisted of a 2 hour and 45 minute run, a 2.4 mile swim workout and a 7 hour brick (2 hours on the bike, 1 ½ hour running – then do it again) I wasn't worried that I couldn't finish the week as much as I was dreading the pain. It's kind of like getting a shot – the anticipation is worse than the actual act. That was the case for me, I was irritable the entire week prior and during. I just wasn't looking forward to it.

I did my long (slow) run on Tuesday without a problem. I put in my 2.4 miles in the pool on Saturday and finished strong. That left Sunday's 7 hour (plus a little more for transition) workout.

Naturally, I overslept and didn't get started until 10:30 – making sure I finished and started in 80 degree heat. I really didn't want or need the added difficulty.

I went into this workout with dread. I was tired. Thinking of doing over 7 hours of continuous exercise was almost too much to grasp. I tried not to think about the entire day and just set off on my bike to do the first two hours. Things weren't much better on the bike (I felt sapped of energy) and I spent most of the time convincing myself to just try and finish the run and then we'll see if I could get back on the bike.

Surprisingly, after the bike ride and after a few miles of running, I began to feel a bit stronger. I didn't run fast but I was able to run without stopping the entire hour and a half – a good sign. I climbed back on the bike and figured if worse came to worse (after I'd finished the bike), I'd walk the last portion of the day.

Well that's pretty much what happened. I finished the bike o.k. and started to run, but I found that my stomach was pretty upset (it felt like I was carrying a bowling ball in there) and I kept trying to throw up to relieve my gaseous tummy. My theory is that I was taking too much nutritional supplements without enough water (I just drank Gatorade along with the supplement on the bike). Hopefully, I'll be able to fix that in the future because my legs weren't too bad – my stomach just wouldn't allow any more jostling than needed.

I finished my 1 ½ hours of running (more walking than running was done) and my wife and kids (who had been helping me through out the day) gave me a chair, towel and drink. We ordered pizza and I spent the rest of the evening slumped in a chair but satisfied that I'd completed the day.