Ironman Wisconsin 2013

Ironman, Round 2

September 9, 2012 – September 8, 2013

Lee Adams

 

I knew well before the Ironman finish line in 2011 that I wanted to cross that line again.  Although it was exhilarating crossing the line myself, standing at the finish in 2012 (after I had already signed up for 2013) was more emotional and inspirational than I could have imagined.  First, just being in Madison on Ironman Sunday is lifting.  Getting to see the emotion on the athletes faces as they cross the line with Mike Riley announcing their names over the loudspeakers gives me chills.  You literally are witnessing some of these people’s lives change forever.  Most importantly, however, was getting to see my wife, Tricia, head down that finishing chute completing (and competing) in her first Ironman, just 12 weeks removed from a broken clavicle and the surgery that followed.  I certainly am a self-motivated and self-inspired person, but watching that scene unfold in front of me catapulted me forward into the next 12 months of pushing myself to new levels. 

I guess you could say that training started the very next day.   Although my motivation was similar to my first go-round, my mind was in a very different place.  2011 definitely had its question marks:  Can I do this?  Can my body handle the training? Can my mind handle the long hours?  Who will I train with?  2013 started off quite a bit different in those regards.  Those previous questions had already been answered.  I knew immediately that to accomplish some aggressive goals that were developing in my head I would once again enlist the help of my coach from 2011, Brian McWilliams from McWilliams Training, LLC.  I’ve gotten to know Brian pretty well over the last couple of years, so I knew that I’d get pushed to the levels I expected, and didn’t have to worry about him tip-toeing around an issue when I acted (training or socially) like a ‘dumb-ass.’  I knew Brian was the right person to get me to the next level.

The other major difference I saw coming into 2013 was who I was going to be training with.  I cannot stress enough, the positive impact training with other people has.  As I sat overlooking Lake Monona in the Monona Terrace as I had just signed up, I couldn’t help but smile knowing that a dozen or so Green Bay Multisport athletes, including several close friends would be swimming, biking, and running around Madison with me come September. I also believe in surrounding yourself with peoplethat are faster, stronger, and smarter than you; not just in training, but in all facets of life.  I was extremely fortunate to have these people to train with day in and day out.  I found myself pushing harder and also being a sponge for new information. 

 My alarm clock is turned on 6 or 7 days per week with times usually ranging from 3:45am to 4:15am.  The thought of crawling out of bed well before sunrise upwards of 300 days over the next year may normally seem daunting in and of itself, let alone having to spend an hour or two (or 6) doing strenuous physical activity at that time of day.  The desire to let ‘Snooze’ win out is always there.  The desire to stay up late, watch a movie, or have a drink is something constantly in your mind. I was committed to making improvements on these over the course of the next year.  This core group of people mentioned above, with many of the same commitments and group training sessions generally provided all the incentive needed to be the first one in line at the gym or the first in the pool for a Master’s Swim.  One particular example that stands out involved me looking at an ominous weather radar map calling for heavy winds and rain topped off with temperatures in the 30’s to go along with my 40 mile bike ride at 5:00am.  Not wanting to concede to the weather, I sent a text to a friend to see if there was interest in joining me for some moral support.  To my (slight) surprise I had someone to ride with early that morning.  Alarm clocks never seem to win when you’ve committed to meeting someone.  There simply was no way in hell I would bail leaving someone else to suffer like that alone.   Let’s just forget that previous comment about ‘training like a dumb-ass’ because riding outside in 40 degree temperatures, steady rain and strong winds was apparently one of those situations according to Coach Brian. 

One thing I’ve come to realize about myself is that ever since I can remember, I’ve had this uncontrollable need to do things the longest, the most, or in the worst conditions.  I don’t know if it is a unhealthy competitiveness, a constant drive to outdo myself, the enjoyment of hearing people’s reactions to some of the ‘crazy’ things I’ve done, or maybe it is something else entirely.  As far as I know, this has been going on my whole life. I once golfed 108 in a day (walking); convinced a friend to try and rollerblade to the next town and back when rollerblades first came out; and often played hockey until midnight or later at the outdoor rink by my house on the coldest nights of the year.  Usually, this need got channeled into endurance activities, but occasionally, that need was fulfilled in less constructive means: doing the longest keg stands, eating the most or hottest chicken wings or hot peppers, or other unmentionable acts of stupidity that I’m sure some people reading this probably remember.  Thankfully, I survived all of those dumb extremes and have channeled that inner drive into the world of endurance sports. 

My ‘unofficial’ self-coached training ran from September 2012 – March 2013.  I knew I wanted to be in great shape going into the last 6 months before Ironman, but I also knew that I wanted to keep my mind fresh to avoid any potential burn-out down the road.  Beginning in September, my tri bike spent most of the time on the shelf, while the new mountain bike my wife surprised me with started to get some use.  The thought going in, was it would be a good change of pace, and would improve my bike handling skills.  What the Reforestation Camp and especially Baird’s Creek mountain bike trails taught me was how to crash.  A lot.  The ‘mountain bike experiment’ lasted for about two months until I had a tire slip out from me in a creek bed and I found myself covered in mud with the cold December waters soaking me through and left me with an elbow that no longer wanted to move.  Luckily, the stone-lined creek only did temporary damage to my hip and elbow and winter soon came to Wisconsin effectively retiring my mountain bike for the next 12 months. 

With the snows came my cross country skis and my first attempt at skiing the American Birkebeiner in Hayward, WI on February 23.  I had really fallen in love with skiing the previous winter and had signed up along with my step father Ed who would be completing his 20^th Birkie as well as my step sister, Anne, who would also be doing her first.  Getting to do an endurance event like this, along with several family members participating, and even more spectating really made this an event to remember.  Cross country skiing really struck a chord with me from the beginning.  There is a definite serenity being out in the woods either late at night or early in the morning and I seemed to always be brought back to my youth spending time outside on the hockey rink or cruising down a mountain on my downhill skis.  Although, much of my Birkie training was done alone, I always looked forward to my time on the trails and although building mileage was similar to marathon training, I found the trails did far less damage to my feet and joints.  The Birkie itself is like many other races I’ve done (expo, packet pick up, etc.,) but there is definitely camaraderie among skiers unmatched by anything I’ve seen elsewhere.  I guess going in, I thought of myself as a triathlete who decided to ski, but the genuine acceptance and willingness of everyone to trade stories and advice made me feel right at home and I left Hayward feeling like a true skier who will definitely be back in the years to come.   

The end of the Birkie, and a week of relaxation (relatively speaking) marked the transition into official Ironman training.  For the first time in about 18 months, I began receiving the daily “your workouts for the day include:”  emails from Coach Brian. There can definitely be something said to the benefit of not having to think for yourself!  Things started out great with a trip to Hawaii for my brother’s wedding and my own personal tri camp!  I rented a bike for the week and went exploring around Maui.  I was joined by the Pacific’s relentless trade winds, 90 degree temps, and plenty of volcanoes to climb.  Four days and countless miles later, I left the island thoroughly exhausted and was welcomed home to what would be the longest, coldest, and wettest, Wisconsin spring I can remember. 

I’ve always believed that training in tough conditions builds character.  I also believe that being really successful at an Ironman is more mental than it is physical.  Physical ability can only get you so far.  Chances are, if you’ve spent a spring in Wisconsin and try to avoid bike trainers and treadmills at all costs, you’re going to get smacked in the teeth by some harry conditions.  Having done this day in and day out, I knew that it was very unlikely that on race day the conditions would be worse than what I saw in training.  I’ve grown attached to a quote from the Sky runner’s Manifesto that shares this mentality, and I remind myself of it whenever I am considering shortening a workout or opting for a trainer instead of freezing rain.

“The secret is not in the legs. It is to find enough courage to go out and run when it's raining, windy, when it's snowing. When flashes of lightning hit the trees. When snowballs or ice rain hit your legs, your body and make you cry. To continue, you have to dry the tears from your face to be able to see the stones, the obstacles, the sky. Forget some hours of party, face tens of reproaches, say no to a girl, to the warmth of the blanket covering your face... Send everything to hell and go out in the rain until your legs bleed after having fallen down and risen again to keep running...”

Spring came and went and the race season began to ramp up.  My first event after the Birkie was the Dick Lytie Spring Classic half marathon on March 30^th.  My goal coming is was to best the time of a family friend that posted a very competitive time on that course about 30 years ago.  Despite referring to himself as TFOGO (The Fat Old Great One) he continues to work hard at running and is in solid shape for a man in his 60’s.  He always has good advice on improving my running form, and always knows the right buttons to push to get me to push just a little bit harder when I’m running next to him on the treadmill.  Unfortunately, the flu hit my family the day before the race along with some difficult conditions on race day and I came up about a minute shy of my goal.  TFOGO can hold on with pride to the Dick Lytie medal he keeps in his wallet for another year! 

My next race was the Paper Valley Duathlon in Neenah, WI  on May 5th– a 2 mile run,  19 mile bike, and 2 mile run.    I had never done this race before and really didn’t have any expectations going in.  My goal was simply to go as hard as I could for as long as I could.  We had some great weather finally, and it really was nice to get to enjoy one of the first warm spring days.  Things went well and I even got a surprise cheering section from my brother and sister-in-law out on the bike course. 

This year would be the first year in 4 years not doing the Green Bay Marathon.  Instead, Tricia and I chose to do an out of town race for the first time.  We took off in the car on a Thursday and headed to LaCrosse to drop off the kids and the dog with my parents and Tricia and I continued southwest for another 8 hours to Lawrence Kansas for a half Ironman.  We were met in Lawrence by four other Green Bay Multi Sport members and a wonderful family that put 6 smelly/weird triathletes up in their house for the weekend and also made the most amazing barbeque feast for our post-race celebration.  As a bonus to the getaway weekend, I was also fortunate enough to meet 3xIronman World Champion, Craig Alexander the day before the race and also ended up chatting with Hines Ward formerly of the Steelers, now a triathlete, during the race.  I had planned to use this race to try some new things out going into and during a race.  I had made some adjustments to my diet leading up to the race,  changed some equipment before the race, and had made some major changes to my nutrition during the race.  I knew going in I was getting in pretty good shape and had set an aggressive goal on a tough course.  I felt my running had been improving all year and really hoped that I could translate the training over to a race.  The results ended up being way better than I had hoped for and gave me a huge boost of confidence that would carry over for the rest of the year.  I had finally solved the puzzle of having a great run off the bike. 

My last race before Ironman was my 5^th consecutive year racing the Door County Half Ironman.  There is definitely something to be said about home-course advantage and there isn’t a course I have more experience on than Door County.  I’m fortunate enough to spend much of my summers in Sturgeon Bay and am able to walk out the front door and be on the bike course.  I will definitely say I was nervous going in thinking that my results at Kansas might have been a fluke, but I set my goals to try and improve upon that time despite a much more challenging run course.  The race didn’t start as I had hoped and I was further back than I had hoped after the swim.  My mental state still wasn’t as focused as I had hoped so I didn’t mind stopping to help a friend that had blown a tire out on the course.  While stopped I had been passed by several GBMS members and I thought I’d get moving again.  I hammered to catch up and after a few times back and forth with my coach, I needed to take my mind off the course so I decided to sit the legal 4 bike lengths back and match his pace for the rest of the ride.  I’ve always found that the less I think while racing, the better I perform.  Taking my mind off my bike effort allowed me to mentally relax and prepare myself for the run. On the run I was lucky to get in a small group with Brian and another guy after a couple miles and continued the strategy of ‘not thinking’  All I had to do was go on a run with two other guys and keep the pace.  The conversation was light and we were clipping off solid splits. We kept up the good pace for about 8 miles before they were able to pull away near the finish.  The strategy helped and despite a few early setbacks, I still managed to eke out a personal best at the 70.3 distance. 

I now was left with 8 weeks to Ironman and no other races on the schedule.  Volume was increasing and I was preparing for the grind leading up to Ironman.  I had penciled in a couple of potential races in case the monotony of training proved to be too much.  I had drawn up a few long destination rides for a good change of pace on new roads and was fortunate enough to get a mental boost watching Tricia and a few other GBMS athletes race at Age Group Nationals in Milwaukee.  Not only was the race itself thoroughly inspiring watching the best age group athletes in the country compete, I also was fortunate to attend the USAT awards banquet, meet 4xironman world champion, Chrissie Wellington, and hear some amazing stories of athletes that overcame unbelievable obstacles and continued to compete at a high level.  Getting to watch this event proved to be the catalyst I needed to get me through the final weeks before Ironman. 

I also had begun a new tradition this year that I plan to continue as long as I am physically able.  I began joining the Thursday morning Swan Circle Red Eye Wheelmen rides (Also known as the Thursday Morning World Championships)  Green Bay’s finest group of cyclists (although they’d probably disagree) show up at the crack of dawn and drop the hammer at the most competitive ride I’ve found.  What makes the ride great, however, is the camaraderie and tight-knit group that makes up the Red-Eye Wheelmen.  There were several Thursdays that left me hanging on by a thread or even occasionally getting dropped.  There’s no question to the amount of positive impact this had on improving my biking ability. 

Although, I was up for physical grind of competitively training for an Ironman, the social and family time sacrifices of this year’s training began to take a toll by the end.  Filling schedules literally with every minute of daylight, ever increasing kid’s activities, and other social obligations is no easy task.  Tricia and I always go over our schedules for the upcoming week and make plans accordingly.  Even though she never said anything I could tell my training was taking a toll.  I have to say she is an absolute saint for how she supported my training, took care of the house and kids on some very long days, and dealt with my increasing Ironman focus. I’ve seen two kinds of mental responses to Ironman training – crabbiness and air headedness.  Fortunate or not, I was definitely the latter of the two.  Tricia managed to keep me in relative line (as much as possible anyways).  I have a feeling there were many deep breaths going on in the family as I rushed home from, kissed the kids, then headed out on 50+ mile bikes trying to beat the sunset.  I’ve seen and heard of many family struggles surrounding Ironman training.  I did my best to keep as much of my training to early morning hours and lunch hours as I could, but even with that I know it takes a toll.  Without Tricia’s patience and understanding, none of it would have been possible. 

I began my taper for Ironman a few weeks before the race.  I had managed to make it a full year without getting anything more serious than a blister.  Although, my legs often felt like Jello, I avoided any muscle pulls, joint pain, or most importantly, bike crashes.  I felt very fortunate to be in the position I was in and felt I was in the best shape I could be in leading up to the race.  I trusted the taper Brian had planned for me and knew my running ability and mental strength would be my allies come race day.

 

Race day – I went to sleep at 8:00 and fell asleep almost immediately.  Most people say they sleep horribly the night before an Ironman.  I guess sleeping is truly one of my gifts in life.  I set my alarm for 4:00 and slept right to it and even managed snooze twice.  At 4:15 I ate a  breakfast of 3 ensure plus (350 calories each), ½ bagel w/ peanut butter and a Starbucks coffee. I had packed all my bags the day before and mixed all my nutrition.  I had some time to kill so I turned on an ESPN replay of the Michigan/Notre Dame game from the night before and stayed pretty relaxed.  We had secured a hotel that was connected to the Monona Terrace where the race was so at 5:00 I walked downstairs, dropped off my special needs bags, pumped  up the tires on my bike and loaded my bike with the fluids I’d need for the day and headed right back to the room.  I sat back in bed and chilled out until about 5:45, put on my ipod and listened to some music to get my adrenaline up.  Finally, I said a quick prayer,  grabbed my swim gear and walked down to race start at 6:20, put my wet suit on, read over some of my favorite quotes  one last time, then got in the water about 6:40. I swam out near the starting line and hung on a kayak and thought/focused/peed.  I was eerily calm and confident waiting for the cannon to go off and kept repeating to myself  “All you have to do is swim” to keep mind off of the day as a whole.

 

Swim Portion: I began right at the red buoy near the front of the pack and tried to push hard out of the gate, but was held up pretty good by the pack.  I pushed, kicked, and punched my way along for the first two buoys before finding a gap.  I was really hoping this was where things would settle in, but it was really short lived and would be how the rest of the swim would go for me.  I’d find a nice gap or someone to draft of for 60 seconds or so and then get clobbered by another swimmer.  Repeat that process about 50 times and that was the story of my swim.  No doubt the chop in the water also affected me and I did my best to hug the buoy line, which probably aided in my clobbering.  I never actually looked at a map of the swim course or saw it from a high level before starting, so I had a hard time knowing how far along I was.  After the last turn buoy I kind of headed straight for shore before realizing I was all alone and weaved my way to the finish.  All told, my Garmin registered 2.71 miles for the day in what was supposed to be a 2.4 mile swim.  I wasn’t pleased with my time getting out of the water, but quickly told myself not to try and make up the time I thought I left in the water by going too hard on the bike.
T1: There is definitely something to be said about having gone through IMWI T1 before.  I ran hard up the helix, found my bag and a chair quickly and got in and out in good time.  I figured I made up a minute or two off of what I had planned going in. 

 

Bike Portion: I got on my bike and started hammering until I got to the no pass zone and got caught behind a slower biker.  I took advantage of the down time to take in gels and liquids and assess my progress.  I used the first 16 miles of tail wind to build up a high average mph.   I knew my legs had some fire in them and was ‘dancing on the pedals’ pretty well up the hills.  I was sticking with my nutrition flawlessly, but ended up catching a gel wrong in Mt. Horeb and started a gag/puke reflex.  Although, I did manage to keep everything down, I told myself if I was having this much trouble that early, I needed to back off the pace a bit.  I chilled out and gathered myself for about a mile until I hit Witte Rd.  If you’ve never seen this road, it’s been described as feeling like riding a roller coaster at six flags. I couldn’t agree more and I tend to act like a dog with its head out the window on this road so it’s not like I was going to take it easy!  I hammered Witte and got some confidence and fun back into the ride.  Life went pretty well through Cross Plains, saw my family, took one of the technical descents on Garfoot about 3-4 mph faster than I normally do, and cruised into town at Cross Plains.  I knew going in I hated Stage Coach Road and also that it would be a head wind, so I pre-planned a game with myself to catch a few riders in front of me once I got on the road.  I got to pick off afew and that stretch of the road passed by very quickly. It really is crazy how easy it is to trick myself.  Idiot!  The next section of the course has three of the toughest climbs on the course. There is nothing more enjoyable than the hills of the Ironman WI bike course on race day.  The crowds made me feel weightless going up, I saw some really crazy people and got really solid cheers about my climbing ability  and was flying past riders who were mashing their way up.  Between the climb on Timberland and the recently chip sealed descent, I took some time to choke down some solid food for the first time knowing eating would force me to slow down and avoid a crash.  It was pretty tough getting solid food down. In the process, I got passed on the descent by a guy going WAY too fast for the 90 degree turn at the bottom and witnessed a horrible crash when he couldn’t make the turn. The start of the second loop starts in Verona.  At the half way point of the ride, I checked my average miles per hour and was nearly a full mile per hour faster than what I had set for a high end goal pace. I thought for sure I was in trouble.  My inner dialog went back and forth between continuing to press or to back it down so I didn’t destroy any chance of a good run.  Ultimately, I knew I was having difficulties getting food down so I compromised on backing it down a little bit to keep my stomach in check and allow me to keep eating.  I made a really smooth stop at the bike special needs and got the two additional IMP/CP bottles.  I doubt I was actually stopped for more than 8-10 seconds.  The next stretch from Verona to Mt. Horeb was my toughest section in 2011, so I was prepared for it going in.  I was able to distract myself really well with putting targets on riders and reeling them in.  I spun out the legs after the hill in Mt. Horeb and got passed for the first time of the day.  It took a lot not to hammer and catch him, but I told myself I was going to get him on the run.  Whether I did or not, I’ll never know.  The second time through Witte and Garfoot revitalized any boredom I may have been dealing with.  It kept my mind sharp and pushing a good, but manageable pace.  I knew my average mph were dropping from the section of hills, but I was expecting it.  I was still over my goal pace and I felt good so I wasn’t concerned.  I had some doubts about the last 15 miles coming back in and the headwind that was coming, but I had some nice and unexpected crowd support in the closing miles that kept me sharp. Although the stick was pretty brutal, there was some relief from the head winds whenever I turned north which I wasn’t expecting.  I turned it on after the no pass zone thankful to get through 112 miles without any mechanical issues, flat tires, or dropped chains.  My thoughts were that I rode flawlessly, and managed to save my legs for the run, and now it was time to see what I was made of.   

 

T2: It was pretty quiet in there when I ran in.  I got right in, got my socks and shoes on while a volunteer put on my race belt. I threw on my hat and slammed 7 oz. Pedialyte and took my red bull to go.  I had finished about half of that before exiting for the run. 

 

Run Portion: Okay, so I have this thing where I will not look at my watch for the first mile of any run.  When that first beep went off I saw my first mile was over a minute faster than my goal pace.  Oops!  The next one wasn’t much slower than that, but at least I felt good!  In 2011 going into Camp Randall was the low point in my race.  This time, I was ready for the most suck-tastic feeling on that same little incline before going into the stadium.  When I didn’t feel like that was rock bottom, I got a new wave of energy and continued toward the car wash.  I was really running well, and for the first time since leaving the swim, I began thinking about possibilities of my overall time.  I decided that my current pace would be sustainable and was pretty comfortable, and that I was going to hold off on walking through any aid stations as long as possible. I managed to run straight through to mile six and kept up a decent jog going up Observatory Drive.  By mile ten I added in walking through aid stations while I slammed every kind of fluid that was handed to me.  I was keeping a good pace running, but my splits dropped a bit with the added walk breaks.  This went on through the turn-around at the capital.  I checked my watch and saw a split I was very happy with.   I was on a pretty strict run to an aid station, and power-walk through plan (with a few extra short walk breaks to get my HR and body temp down) and I was still clipping off respectable miles splits.  I knew I was fading a bit, but knew my pace was okay and I continued to take in plenty of fluids and the occasional electrolyte pill.  I think I was nearing thoughts of complacency by increasing the duration and frequency of power-walks and was planning a long walk up Observatory Drive, but Tricia changed all of that quickly.  She had written a simple message on a white board from a conversation we had the night before in our hotel room.  Her message to me was my ace in the hole, and Tricia served it to me on a platter at the perfect time.  Yeah, the day was long, but I felt like I was bounding up observatory as she biked alongside.  At the top, I tucked my hat down, literally blocked out all other outside influences and distractions, shut off my brain and simply hung on to that sign in my mind.  It was all I knew and had 100 percent of my focus. I knew there were people who knew me on State Street between miles 19 and 20 that were cheering for me like crazy.  I never saw them.  It was total tunnel vision at this point.  It hurt and I was slowing a bit, but I continued to pass other runners and I was still running the majority of the time.  I passed a 31 year old at mile 21 that was all but dead.  He was the only other person to have passed me on my run up to that point, when he flew past me at mile 2 of the run.  I guess that quick pace caught up with him.  I continued my tunnel vision between aid stations then drank everything I could while power-walking through.  I filled up one last time at the Kohl Center with just over a mile to go, ditched the sponges, zipped up my top and began preparing to finish.  I ran the last mile of the course in impressive time and  I managed to take in all of my surroundings while nearing the finishing chute.  Turning the final corner, I saw Tricia and my family along the fence and enjoyed the final yards of a very successful day.

I’ve never felt so utterly drained after a race and have never pushed myself that hard before.  I believed from a year ago that the biggest limiter for people doing Ironman’s was their own heads.  I believe I very successfully turned off my head, blocked out the pain when I needed to and accepted and welcomed the pain when it came.  Having done an Ironman before many of the potential surprises were gone, so when those obstacles came, I was ready for them and used it to my advantage.  I could not have done what I did without the rock solid support of Tricia, my kids, parents, brother, and all of my extended family who are always amazingly supportive of the Ironman life, for all the members and families of Green Bay Multi Sport, all the other people along the way that went out of their way to pass along encouraging words or support in any way they could, and to Brian McWilliams for coaching me through a very successful season.  I am humbled and honored to call these people my family and friends.