Ironman Arizona 2018 - Race Report

It was a pleasant cool morning as I rode my bicycle on the Capital Trail near Richmond, VA. The date was October 13th, one day after Hurricane Michael swept through our area. The trail was covered with storm debris and I had spent about an hour and a half dodging everything from small branches to good size logs. Some parts of the trail were so covered in leaves, branches, pine cones, etc, that it was hard to make out the direction of the trail in some of the darker, tree covered areas. But I was having a good time. There were not too many people on the trail presumably because they had good common sense. I, on the other hand, was determined to get my workout in. I had a nice brick on the books which entailed a ride followed immediately by a run. My training up to this point had been going quite well. And with 36 days until race day, I was really in the groove.

I had just entered Charles City County going East towards Jamestown when suddenly I was on the ground. It was such a shock to my body and my mind. I was not sure what had happened but I knew one thing, I was in pain. I was able to roll onto my back and writhe a bit on the asphalt of the trail. My eyes were closed as I grunted and groaned. In my mind, I was thinking the same thing the bowl of petunias thought in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, "Oh NO! Not again." And, "Now what I have done?" People who know me won't be surprised that I, yet again, had caused myself great pain from participating in some otherwise healthy activity. (see Crashing out at Ironman Louisville, or Soccer Injuries - Part 1, or Lucky Me).

Some folks came up on me on their bikes and asked if they should call someone. I told them I was not sure yet. I needed a moment to assess my injuries. Another person had stopped her car up the road a bit and come down the trail to assist me if she could. She helped me up and I was able to grab my bike which had a big stick stuck in the wheel. Apparently, the stick had jammed into my front wheel causing it to lock up and send me flying over the handlebars. It all happened so quickly, I don't even remember the flying part which is a shame because that was probably the fun part. Before impact of course. 

I quickly examined my bike and it was in better shape than I was. My shoulder was in a lot of pain. I kept looking back behind me down the trail. Melissa was probably about 15 to 20 minutes behind me at this point and I was hoping to spare her any worrying about me. She was training for her first Ironman and today would be her longest ride to date. I wanted to support her as much as possible. I had a sense of urgency to get moving again so she would not overtake me and wonder what in the world had happened.  The nice woman who stopped to help walked with me as I pushed my bike up the hill. Once I got up the hill, I mounted my bike to see if I could ride. I told her that worse case scenario, I would simply walk back towards the car. Once Melissa overtook me and got to the car, I explained, she could drive back to get me. I rode a little bit and stopped and told the nice woman that I thought I would be ok. She gave me her cell number just in case.

Have you ever heard of the young American cyclist Lawson Craddock? Google his 2018 Tour de France experience. Basically he crashed in the first stage and broke his scapula. He was determined to stay in the race and ended up finishing that first stage in great pain. And he went on to complete the race despite his injury. I had him in mind as well as my brother who did not let pain stop him from living his life. While riding back to my car, each bump I hit would sent a little shock-wave up into my body. I thought, "where did all this bumpy trail come from? I thought it was mostly pretty smooth." But I was determined to "Craddock" my way back to the car. From now, that will be the verb I use in these circumstances.

After about 15 miles of riding and groaning with each bump in the road, I made it back to the car. I was able to sling my bike into the back of the car and change my shirt somehow. I got some ice from the cooler and was able to strap a plastic bag of ice onto my shoulder. I then promptly texted a few people and was able to get the mobile number of my go-to orthopedic surgeon. Doc had operated on both my knees, my wife's shoulder, and treated me for a broken clavicle three years prior. He texted me back and said I could call Tuesday morning at 8 AM and that he would be able to work me on that day. Little did I know, he was in Louisville and would be racing Ironman the next day. It is nice to have a doctor who understands where you are coming from. He thought maybe I had an AC Joint sprain and said I would be fine to race probably.


Fast forward to Tuesday. I went to the Doc, got some X-Rays and received my diagnosis. Type 3 AC Joint Sprain. No Ironman for me. I was pretty disappointed and bummed. It could have been worse. The treatment was simply to immobilize the shoulder with a sling. There were no broken bones this time around and no other damage to other body parts. Also, my helmet spared my noggin. 

One of the most upsetting things about this turn of events was that since I would not be able to race, I would not be able to be with Melissa in T1 before the race, be with her to do bag drop off, be with her in the swim line at the beginning of the race, be with her on the course at all, etc. That was a really big downer.

After a week and a half in the sling, I was up on campus for a meeting where I work at VCU. My office is downtown at the Data Center. After my meeting, I was making my way to the bus stop to ride back downtown. I wanted to catch the next bus so I started walking quickly which then lead to a little trot. After a minute or two, I decided to stop and turn on my Garmin. After getting a signal, I started an actual jog. I decided to just run instead of waiting for the bus. I felt pretty good and my shoulder did not bother me. Granted, I was not swinging it. It was still in the sling. But it sure felt good to run a little bit. After my little 10 minute run, I had a small glimmer of hope. Maybe I would heal up in time for the race. Or course jogging down Franklin street for 10 minutes is not the same as a 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and 26.2 mile run. 

The following weekend, despite not being cleared by the doctor, I managed two hours on the trainer, most of it in aero position, and a 12 mile run next day. My pace on the run was quite decent and I felt pretty good about things. My legs were a bit sore for a couple of days afterwards however. 

That following Wednesday, I went back to the doctor for my follow up. More X-Rays were taken and the doc examined my shoulder. And guess what? He said I could race if I wanted to. He said I should not expect to do very well but if I wanted to give it a go, I was cleared to do so.

Of course now that I was planning to race, I had some logistics to take care of. Over the next two weeks, I scrambled to get all my ducks in a row and to train as much as I could. I was still not ready to get into the pool to swim but managed to do some biking and running. I was still feeling pretty flat during workouts and my heart rate was elevated more so than usual during easy workouts. I managed to get into the pool a couple of times before leaving for Arizona. The race was going to be quite challenging. I knew that. But I wanted to give it a try.

On race day, the water temperature was 60. BRRR! I had just purchased a new sleeveless wetsuit because my shoulder would not allow me to use a full sleeved westsuit. I had done the pre-swim the day before the race and knew that I would be cold for a while before I warmed up. Melissa and I dropped off our bags, donned our wetsuits and got in line at the swim start. I was so excited for Melissa as she embarked on her first Ironman. We were both a little nervous I think as we waited for the gun to go off. Our friend Meredith squeezed past us to the front of the swim line. I am glad I got to see her and wish he luck on her race. Finally, it was our turn to walk down the ramp and into the water. I smiled at Melissa and jumped in. 

The swim was slow going. I was able to keep trudging along but my shoulder injury required that I take it really easy. And that cold water was not fun. Without going into too much detail, let's just say the swim kind of sucked. After swimming the 2.4 mile course, I got out of the water in just over 1 hour and 30 minutes which was about 10 minutes slower than I had hoped. 

I was so cold. We had to run a pretty long stretch to run from where we got out of the water to T1. My feet were somewhat numb. Running on the concrete was a bit painful and I had to walk some of it. As I ran towards transition, I was thinking, "This sucks." I was already having a difficult time and the race had really just begun. At one point during the run I heard someone yell my name. I looked up to see Melissa's coach who I had met a couple of days before. He yelled some words of encouragement to me and said that Melissa was about 30 seconds ahead of me. I was so happy to hear that. Melissa had conquered the swim and was on her way to the bike. I knew her transition would be much faster than mine but I also knew I would likely catch up to her on the bike.

Transition also sucked. I was shivering and shaking. It took me a while to get all my hair and makeup done. I slammed a Honey Stinger Waffle as I put my shoes and socks on and got ready to bike. It was a few degrees warmer in the changing tent and I was slightly reluctant to leave. But I still had a long day ahead of me and waiting around would ultimately not do me any good. Looking back on it, I probably could have used some more calories and perhaps some warmer clothes to start out on the bike. It took me a full 15 minutes in T1 though which is more than I would have usually spent in transition. 

Once out on the bike, I was relieved that the course was not overly crowded. There were lots of bikers on the course but it was not like Chattanooga where your options were drafting, blocking, or just stopping and getting off your bike. Also, the course was closed to vehicle traffic which was pretty cool. We had an entire lane. The bike course was one of the nicer courses I have had the pleasure of riding. I started to warm up and I came across Melissa who looked like a Pro with her sweet TT position from expert bike fitter David Luscan and her cool Betty Designs kit. I gave her a cheer as I went by. Again, I was so happy to see her on the course.

After a short while on the bike, I realized that I really had no energy. That cold swim had really zapped me. I was way off my target power numbers. I did not worry too much at first as I thought I would warm up. But the longer I rode, the lower my numbers were looking. After a while, I stopped looking at watts and changed the display on my Garmin. My lack of power output was depressing and I did not need that. 

It was not long before my shoulder injury reared its ugly head and I was not able to stay in aero any longer,. I would have to come up quite often to give my shoulder a break. I tried to get back down as much as I could. Riding in aero is so much faster. It got to the point where I was watching my MPH and when I wanted to pass someone, I would get into the proper aero position and would go 2 MPH faster and cruise by that person in front of me. I always knew aero was faster but I was demonstrating it in a concrete and measurable way by keeping my eye on my speed on flat and slightly uphill false flats.

When I completed loop 1 of the 3 loop bike course, I looked at my elapsed time and did the math. This was going to be a long, long day. I had hoped to do the bike portion in about 6 hours. It looked like I would be closer to 6:30. Oh well. That was still not terrible my any means but I had demonstrated in previous performances that I could go faster.

At about mile 50 my right knee started to bother me. My IT band had been tight ever since the long flight from the East Coast. I feared it might flair up on me. When I got to special needs at mile 64, I slammed a small Red Bull and stretched my quad a bit. When I got back on the bike, I instantly felt much better. I had weaned myself off of caffeine a few months prior to the race so the Red Bull really had the dopamine firing and I had a little rally. I started to feel more like my normal self on the bike. Plus we were going downhill and had a tailwind. Going faster can also be a mental boost. I thought to myself that if one Red Bull had helped so much, maybe another would be double-great. So I stopped at the aid station, used the porta potty, and slammed another Red Bull. It did help but now I had broken the seal and felt like I had to go to the bathroom ever 30 minutes. I had forgotten that Red Bull can have that effect. I had to stop to stretch and go to the bathroom a couple more times. 

As I approached the conclusion of the bike, I started thinking about T2 and what I needed to do to get ready to run. I find that thinking about it a bit can help speed things up once you get off the bike. At the dismount line, I laboriously swung my leg over the seat and handed my bike to the volunteer. Thankfully at most Ironman events, racers do not have to re-rack their bikes at the conclusion of the bike leg. That is a nice perk. 

In the end, my official bike split time was 6:57:15. But my total moving time was 6:35:26. I had spent an unprecedented 20+ minutes at various stops to stretch, use the bathroom, and in special needs. For me, that was not normal. I usually manage to pee on the bike so I don't have to stop and don't usually have to stop for anything else except for getting more nutrition in special needs. My long day was stretching out and getting longer and longer as the day went on. 

But now it was time for my strength. Running off the bike. Coach had wanted me to take it real easy for the first half of the marathon and then run the second half faster than the first half. I was ok with taking it easy. I did not seem to have much energy and was skeptical that I would be able to hold things together on the run. That skepticism was born out when I came to the first little hill in the first couple of miles of the marathon course. I decided to walk up the hill. Once I crested the little hill, I started running again. It kind of hurt. Here I was in the first few miles and I was already hurting a bit. Again, it was going to be a long day. 

As I ran, I noticed that my the underside of my arms were both hurting. I had some pretty bad chaffing going on. Sometimes that kind of thing happens during a race but you don't notice until you get into the shower after the event. This time around, the burning was obvious. Thankfully, at one place on the course, there was a volunteer with Vaseline. He yelled, "Vaseline". I stopped and he helped me goop a bunch onto my arms with a tongue depressor. AHHH. Relief. It was glorious. What a lifesaver. 

I continued to run/walk my way through the course. It is not uncommon at all for Ironman participants to run/walk during the run portion of the race. I usually walk through the aid stations which appear every mile. That gives me a quick break, allows my heart rate to come down, and allows me to refuel with water, Gatorade, soda, a gel, or maybe a banana. On this day, I was walking more than I ever had in previous Ironman events. As I ran, I started to do the math and try to guess when I would finish. It was going to be very dark, I knew that. I was going to be slower than I had ever run before, I knew that too. 

My best marathon time was the NYC marathon in 2017. I blew up at the end but managed to hang on to a 3:49 for a PR. For Ironman, my fastest marathon was Ironman Maryland in 2016 despite all the flooding we had to run through. We did not swim that day and the bike course was only 100 miles due to flooding. That 4:06 time was just slightly faster than my Ironman Chattanooga in 2014 at 4:08. The Chattanooga run was probably my best considering we had 4 extra miles on the bike and the course was pretty hilly. 

When I did my calculations as I ran in the dark in Tempe, AZ for Ironman Arizona 2018, it was looking like today it was going to be at a 4:45 maybe. However, at about the half-way point, I started to fade even more. My walk breaks were becoming longer and I had to stop to use the porta potties at nearly every aid station (every mile). It was dark and the backside of the course was a little lonely. The high points of my run were seeing Melissa on the course. She was looking good and pacing herself well. In fact, she was putting on a pacing clinic. She was on tap to finish her first Ironman and I and was so excited for her. 

Still a few miles away from the finish line, I could hear Mike Reilly calling out people's names as they crossed the finish line.  "Phred Jones from Vienna, VA. You are an Ironman!" It was the signature announcement everyone wants to hear. Some people specifically sign up for events that Mike Reilly is likely to announce. At this point, I was pretty spent. I did my shuffle/walk combination until I got really close to the end when I picked it up the pace to a nice run. 

The finishing chute at Ironman is quite exciting. There is loud music, lots of people cheering and partying and many athletes completing a goal that is sometimes years in the making. As I crossed the finish line, I heard Mike call out my name and I smiled and put my hands in the air. I was finally done. I had managed a 5:39 marathon. For me, that was way off what I am capable of. But considering I could not raise my arm above my shoulder 3 weeks before the race, I could not really complain. In the end, I finished the race in 14:30 which was about 2 hours slower than I expected. 

After finishing, I had a mission. I wanted to get my morning clothes bag and put on some warm clothes and start collecting my gear and Melissa's gear. It took me a long time to get organized and changed. I started walking towards my bike rack when I saw my friend Meredith from Richmond. She was an multiple Ironman finisher. She had taken a short break from Ironman to have a baby. Her little girl was about 1 years old now and this was her first big race as a new mom. She finished the race in 12:21 which was very impressive! She is a super strong IronMom setting good examples for her child. I called out to her and she was a godsend. She helped me figure out which way was up and helped me gather our gear. Once out of transition her husband fulfilled his sherpa duties and together we returned our bikes to TriBike transport and took our gear bags back to my car. We had plenty of time to spare to watch Melissa cross the finish line. 

They had been tracking Melissa on the IronTrac app and now that I had gone back to the car to get my phone, I could track her too. We cheered for strangers as they went down the finishing chute, occasionally giving people high fives. I was slightly delirious but I did my best to cheer for people as they ran, walked, wobbled to the finish. Then, I saw Melissa. We all shouted at the top of our lungs. She looked so happy. She was smiling big and looked great. And then we all heard those magic words, "Melissa Rosen from Richmond, VA. You are an Ironman!"

I was so happy for Melissa. She accomplished an amazing goal and did it like a pro. She paced herself well, ignored the pain, and followed her race plan. Now it was time to celebrate!

Melissa was super stoked, deservedly so. We wandered around a bit before making our way back to the car and then to the hotel. The next day we woke up early and gave Ironman more of our hard earned money. Matching Finisher jackets were in order of course. After that, we headed to Sedona for some relaxing views. We found a nice hotel with a spa and some good views. Melissa could hardly walk but we enjoyed the time strolling slowly around Sedona taking in the gorgeous scenery and excellent food. We were hungry every couple of hours. Sedona did not disappoint and we did our job stimulating the local economy. Below are some pictures from our trip. Thanks for reading!

Melissa going up and down stairs after IMAZ

Ironman Texas Race Report

My goal for this report is to make it as short as possible but to still capture everything worth remembering about the day. I won't go into too much detail about every little aspect of the race but will instead focus on the important stuff that affected my overall performance.

Leading up to the race, I had the misfortune of being hit by a car while riding my bike. Luckily it was a slow motion accident as a car rolled through a red light while I was crossing Laburnum Ave on the Capital Trail. When I got hit, I was so mad. The driver got out and was very apologetic and admitted he was at fault. I gathered myself off the pavement and out of the road. After a quick examination of myself and my bike, I determined I was mostly OK. So the driver went on his way and I decided to continue on my ride. I had a 4 hour ride planned and was only about 45 minutes into the ride. 

While riding up the hill, I noticed some throbbing on the outside of my lower leg. I stopped to inspect it and noticed some bruising and swelling. I decided I would continue my ride and reevaluate myself at Four Mile Creek Park which was about 10 minutes away. While riding to the park, I was in a pretty bad mood. I ended up pushing it pretty hard to let off some steam. When I arrived at the park, I stopped and used the bathroom and ate a squashed banana. I decided I would continue for a little longer. At some point, I realized I only had a few miles to the next milestone/bathroom. So I continued. In the end, I ended up with 72 miles on the bike. I decided I must be OK since I was able to do that.

However, my knee was a bit tweaked. But I was able to complete all my workouts without any pain including a long brick the following weekend. I felt like I was in pretty good shape for the race.

The night before the race, I could not sleep. I was tossing and turning, my mind racing all night. In the end I probably got about 2.5 to 3 hours of sleep. Not ideal at all.

On the day of the race, it was announced that the water temperature was 78.8 which meant the swim was wetsuit-optional. We could swim in a wetsuit if we wanted to but we would not be eligible for age group awards. I am not sure why I chose to wear my wetsuit. I knew wearing a wetsuit in a wetsuit-optional swim would mean I would be at the back of the line. That worked out well for me in Louisville. Until I crashed out anyways. Perhaps the lack of sleep clouded my judgment. I know I was extremely anxious and not feeling my best. I am much faster in my wetsuit for sure. But wearing the wetsuit in the warm water for the hour and 17 minutes it took me to complete the swim turned out to be a bad idea.

When I got on the bike, I downed all my fluids in the first 10 minutes of the ride. I felt pretty good for about 45 minutes. After that, I felt pretty bad. In fact, I would say I felt horrible. I questioned why in the world I was doing this. I entertained the idea of quitting. But only momentarily. I knew I could finish the race even in the worst conditions. Also, when I am feeling one of these inevitable low spots during a long day of racing, I always think of my brother John and how he was such a trooper. That always helps get me through the rough patches.

At mile 60 I stopped to use the porta pottie. It was quite evident by the color of my urine that I was very dehydrated. I was pumping the fluids in as much as possible but the warm swim put me in a deficit that was proving hard to overcome. Right after the bathroom break, I stopped in special needs and drank two Red Bulls. They were still cool since I had frozen them the night before. The short break along with the rush of sugar and caffeine boosted me up a bit. I started to feel better and rode the next section feeling pretty good.

However, once I hit the final turnaround, the reality of the strong headwind was in my face. A cold front had rolled through and I was fighting to maintain 14 mph on the bike. I stayed aero as much as possible but my body was tired and I could not stay down for long periods of time. Everyone around me was struggling. The toll road for IMTX is mostly flat, mostly smooth, with no traffic and lots of room. Those are the pros. The cons? No break from the heat or the wind. And absolutely no scenery. Just miles and miles of concrete. Kinda boring really.

The bike course beat me down and was a bit demoralizing. The wind was relentless and the course mentally challenging. I had hoped to finish the course in about 5 hours and 45 minutes. When I turned off of the toll road, I realized I would be over 6 hours. Definitely not a terrible performance especially considering the wind and how awful I felt. But slightly off my initial private goal. My official bike split was 6 hours and 10 minutes. Later when I looked at the data from my Garmin, I found that I had 6 hours of ride time for the 110 miles (the course was slightly short) and 10 minutes all together of time not moving. The 10 minutes was the accumulation of bathroom breaks and special needs. Normally in an Ironman I would just pee on myself on the bike course. But I was not in the mood and in the end I think the bathroom breaks helped me hit he reset button.

When I finished the bike, I was greeted by my cheering fans. It is always so great to hear Melissa's encouraging screams. And Melissa's sister and husband were there too so I had extra encouragement. I always get a lift when I see Melissa out on the course. It was quite refreshing.

Once I hit the run course, I felt relieved that I felt fairly decent. Running is my thing and I usually am most comfortable hammering out a run. I was doing well until about mile 10. That's when things started to turn for the worse. My knee started bothering me. I could tell it was from when I got hit by the car a few weeks ago. The pain gradually got worse until I had to start taking walk breaks every few minutes. Unfortunately this meant that my 4 hour marathon goal was slowly slipping away. As I slogged my way through the rest of the race, I noticed that I did not seem to be sweating any longer. Also, I had to stop to use the porta pottie about every mile or 2. I have never had to go so much in my life. I am not sure of the science behind it but I am guessing I did not take in enough salt after my dehydrating swim. 

In the end, I ended up running the marathon in about 4:25. This was much slower than I was hoping for but in the end, my overall time was not terrible. It was quite slower than IMTN in 2014. But considering the pain I was experiencing due to the incident with the car, I can't really complain too much. After all, there was a man who died during the swim portion. I feel so bad for his family and when I think about it, I am just happy that I am healthy and was able to have a respectable finishing time. My overall finish time was about 12:20. Not my best performance but I think I learned some things for next time regarding nutrition and pacing. 

I have to thank Melissa for her support. And thanks to her family for putting us up in Texas. We had a very comfortable and relaxing time leading up to the race. Thanks also to my coach David Luscan who prepared me for the race. Dave has elevated my fitness much higher and faster than I could ever accomplish on my own. His science based, no nonsense approach to endurance training fits in well with my personality. 

Thanks for reading!

Crashing out at Ironman Louisville

As many of you know, I crashed out of Ironman Louisville last month. As my body continues to heal, I am now able to comfortably type with two hands so I decided to write a short recap of my experience. The whole thing was quite an ordeal both physically and emotionally. So now, just in time for Thanksgiving, I want to recap my experience.

I am going to spare you all the details leading up to the race. Suffice it to say, I was very well trained, nicely tapered, and ready to execute my race plan. My coach and I discussed target power as well as run paces and I was confident that all my green boxes would add up to a great day.

On race morning, I had a small issue that required some tape. Melissa ran back to the hotel and got me some gorilla tape so I could deal with the minor issue. This slight delay put me near the back of the very long line of people waiting their turn to jump in the Ohio river to start the race. I had hoped to see some of my friends on the course but by being in the back of the line, I would only see them if I caught them.

Getting ready to jump in. Thanks to Lilo for the picture

Overall, I had a pretty decent swim. It was really not too crowded as the river was wide and the time trial start really opened things up. For some reason, during the whole swim, I kept having visions of my brother on his death bed. At the time, I did not know it was his death bed. I knew he was very weak though. I have written about this in the past but it is worth repeating since the images were so vivid in my mind during the swim. John was too weak to even sip water out of a straw. He would call out to me and say, "Jim. Water." Then I would dip the straw into the cup of water and drip water into his mouth. It was difficult for him to swallow even those small drops of water. But afterwards he would always say, "Thank you. " I would say, "You're welcome brother. I love you." And then he would say, "I love you too." Thinking about it now makes me so sad. Hours later, he would be gone. These thoughts and visions of John in the hospital stayed with me for the entire swim.

Finishing an Ironman swim is always quite exciting. To go from quiet contemplation in the water to the throngs of cheering crowds on land is quite a transition. After the strippers removed my wetsuit and I started running down the chute towards transition, I heard my name from some spectators. I glanced over my shoulder and saw the smiling faces of my former coach who taught me how to swim back in 2010. It definitely gave me a boost.

After making my way into the changing tent and weaving my way through lots of naked men, I found a spot on the ground to change into my riding gear. And then it was off to get my bike and head out on the bike course. The first part of the bike course seemed very fast. I felt so great. I was locked into my target wattage yet I was passing so many people. This was not typically the way my races have gone in the past. Usually I am the one being passed. I stuck to my plan and kept on trucking, careful not to burn any matches. At one point, I passed my friend Meredith. I recognized her Pro K kit and yelled Pro K as I passed. She yelled, "Is that Jim." I yelled back to her, "Yep."

Shortly after seeing Meredith on the course, I hit the turn around. And it was shortly after that when I hit the pavement. The freshly paved road was smooth but there was a 3 or 4 inch drop off the side of the road. My front wheel veered too close to the edge and suddenly I was on the pavement. I had what mountain bikers call a "front side washout." And it happened at 22 mph.

It is amazing how quickly thoughts move through the brain. My first thoughts were of another Pro K athlete, Lynn. She had crashed at her last Ironman but rallied to finish the bike and the run bandaged up like a mummy. I thought, "Can I rally like Lynn?" That thought was quickly replaced with, "I need an ambulance." I was in such terrible pain. My entire chest was throbbing and I was grunting with each breath.

While crashing does not seem like a lucky thing, I was lucky in many respects. I had hit my head but my helmet did it's job and I did not have a headache at all. Also, many of the competitors stopped to help me. Two EMTs, an OR nurse, and a doctor stopped to help me. They were kind enough to pause their races to tend to me. Nurses, doctors, and EMTs are always on call really. If there is trouble, they jump in and help.

The nurse held my head to prevent damage to my spine. She was very concerned that I might have a spinal injury. She was able to calm me down and looked into my eyes and smiled. I remember her race number which was on her helmet. They removed my helmet and rolled me onto my back very carefully. Despite their professionalism and expertise, I moaned in pain when they moved me. They cut off my jersey and removed my heart rate monitor which did provide some slight relief in my chest. I was in horrible pain. And I was scared too.

After a few minutes, I could hear Meredith's voice. She knelt down beside me and held my hand. I am not sure if she remembers doing this but it was very comforting to have someone I know there with me. I also remember that before the EMTs started tending to me that one person on the scene put his hand on my shoulder and I screamed, "Don't touch me." I remember Meredith scolding him. He meant well but he happened to touch me right on my broken collar bone. Meredith could see the swelling on my shoulder which was immediate. It made the injury look worse than it actually was. It was bad but the bone was not sticking out although it looked like it might have been.

After a while, a policeman came and took over the duty of holding my head in position. I asked that the racers continue. There was nothing they could really do for me. I figured the ambulance would be there shortly. But I was wrong. This particular part of the course was probably the absolute worst place to crash. It was a two lane out and back with no shoulder and thousands of bikes on both sides of the road. An official EMT did finally arrive. He arrived on the back of the neutral wheel support motorcycle. He did an initial evaluation and put a bandage around my shoulder. He said it was to keep the bone from puncturing my lung which apparently is something that can happen.

The EMT eventually disappeared and I was left lying on the pavement with the policeman holding my head. I laid there in terrible pain for quite some time. Practically naked, I was shivering on the pavement. I had a broken collar bone, several broken ribs, and two punctured lungs. Of course, I did not know that at the time.

All I could do was stare up at the sky. I told the policeman that help needed to get here soon. I was starting to feel really bad. I felt an overwhelming sense of doom. And I thought of my poor brother John. He had suffered horribly in the hospital for more than a week. He was in terrible pain and no one could seem to do anything about it. As I lied there staring up at the blue sky, I pictured those final hours when the nurse put a tube down his nose into his stomach. He instantly started throwing up dark purple liquid. As I lied there, I pictured his face as he looked into my eyes. He was frightened, and bewildered I think. The look on his face said, "no, I am not doing this. I give up." He crashed and an emergency team was scrambled into his room to try to stabilize him. I started to weep. But then the doctors came in and were asking the nurses questions. The nurses did not seem very forthcoming with the answers the doctor needed to try to stabilize John. I stepped up and answered the questions. I had been with him all night and knew how much IV fluids he had had and was able to answer other questions. In a few minutes, they had stabilized him. But he looked bad. John was a fighter. He had been through so many surgeries and had always come through. But now, he looked defeated. They rushed him down to the OR for emergency exploratory surgery to see what was wrong. The anesthesiologist looked pretty worried about putting him under. My brothers and mother told him that they were going to fix him up and we would see him soon. He looked defeated and I don't think he believed us.

I relived all of these memories while I was lying there in great pain. Poor John. It was not fair. His care was terrible, the doctors and nurses nearly incompetent. They did not seem compassionate. They were distant and had no answers. All of this was on my mind as I waited and waited, shivering on the pavement. My eyes welled up with tears as I remembered all of this. The tears were partly from my grief and partly from my pain.

Finally, an ATV arrived and they put me in a neck brace and put me on a back board. Each time they moved me I shouted in pain. At some point on the ride, I suddenly had an emotional shift. I no longer felt the doom. Something had clicked and I decided that it was time to model John's behavior. John was a fighter. John did not complain. John was always polite to everyone. John was my role model.

After the bumpy ATV ride, they transferred me to an ambulance. Again, I moaned when they moved me. The ambulance finally took off with sirens blasting. The EMT put in an IV line and asked me lots of questions. At some point after I told him how much my chest hurt, he did an EEG. I told him I was not having a heart attack but he had to check I suppose. It seemed like a very long ride in the ambulance. But I tried to lighten the mood. I told the EMT that whatever they were paying him, it was not enough. That seemed like a joke John would appreciate. I said thank you and please. They could not give me anything for the pain at this point so I had to suck it up. No pain, no gain Rosen. John used to say that all the time. John was with me in the water earlier that day and he was with me on the pavement and ambulance. His strength, his stoicism, his attitude guided my behavior for the next 48 hours.

I kept telling the people in triage that I had to talk to my wife. I kept thinking about how worried she would be. And that upset me. Again, I was fighting back the tears. Partly due to my pain, partly due to my emotions. I did not want her to worry. It struck me later that this was how John would have felt. He was always concerned about other people's well being. I remember when he was first admitted to the hospital on Good Friday. He was very concerned about his responsibilities as an usher on the upcoming Easter Sunday. Here he was in horrible pain in his head and he was thinking about others. He told my mom to make sure to call the head usher to let him know that John would not be there.

I finally did get to talk to Melissa. It was such a relief. She would be on her way to the hospital and would bring me some clothes, my phone, and other things. I think at this point the doctors had allowed the nurses to give me something for the pain. As I waited and waited and waited, the back of my head started to hurt where the neck brace was biting into my head. I raised my hand up and placed it under the back up my head to relieve the pain. It hit me hard that this is exactly what John did while he was in the hospital. He was constantly trying to relieve the pain in his head with various pillow configurations. Ultimately, his hand behind his head was the only thing that minimally helped. I again felt sad as I remembered my brother's last days in the hospital. Everything about where I was reminded me of his ordeal. Just like in John's case, I pushed the call button and no one came. I yelled out and no one came. Finally 45 minutes later, someone would come. It was very similar to John's experience. However, the nurses and staff at the University of Louisville hospital were nicer, more communicative. They seemed more compassionate.

The combination of the physical and emotional pain I was experiencing from the crash and the memories of my brother's death had really worn me out. Here is what that looked like.

Melissa arrived and snapped the picture above for me. Now that Melissa was there, I started to immediately feel a little better. The pain medicine had started to kick in and I was so relieved that Melissa had made it safely and was now there to be my advocate. For the record, if anyone you know is ever admitted to the hospital, they need an advocate. The hospitals cannot provide the level of care that we need. An advocate is a necessity.

I finally was taken to have my CT scan. Not long after that, the doctors determined I did not have a spinal injury and they were able to remove the neck brace. That was a relief and gets filed in the lucky column. The doctors started me on oxygen to help my body repair the holes in my lungs. I was going to have to stay overnight for observation and to make sure the holes did not get bigger. I am familiar with pneumothorax and really did not want to have to get another chest tube so I was relieved when the doctors told me that the holes would likely heal on their own.

Feeling a bit better but still in a lot of pain

I was finally admitted to a room about 4 in the morning. I was able to doze off a little in the quieter room. I was so hungry though. I had not been allowed to eat or drink anything because of the chance I would need surgery. Surgery was not necessary and I was finally allowed do eat something. It felt good to eat. It had been over 24 hours since I had eaten anything at all.

I kept improving and eventually they released me. Thankfully, my friends were still in town and they were able to help Melissa and I back to RVA. I could not drive and Melissa had not gotten any sleep at all as she sat in the chair next to my bed all night. Here is a picture of her trying to sleep.

So we joined the caravan of Pro K racers. Meredith drove my car and Melissa rode with the others. Honestly, we could not have done it without them.

There are some more details of this story that are worth telling but for now, this account will have to do. I am on the road to recovery now, doing PT, typing, driving, cooking, cleaning and even running. I did my first run this past Saturday. Now I am sore as if I had run 20 miles. I am still not riding my bike or swimming but that will all come sooner or later. For next year I am already signed up for 3 triathlons including Ironman Maryland in October of 2016. I still have a long way to go to get back into shape but I am going in the right directions. And I am lucky. Lucky to have people sacrifice their race goals to stop on the course and help me. Lucky to not have a spinal injury. Lucky to have friends help me make it home. Lucky to have a friend hook me up with an appointment to see the orthopedic surgeon.  Lucky to have a loving family and sense of belonging. Lucky to have my brother as a role model. And most of all lucky to have a loving wife who had to do everything for me for several weeks. I am grateful for everyone. I am thankful for all my many blessings. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

68 Days to Ironman

John really got around

Where has the time gone? It is August already. It has been a while since I have written about training and racing triathlon which is the main focus of my blog these days. If you have been keeping up with my posts, you know that my family experienced a great tragedy with the death of my younger brother John. Since John's passing, there are some things that have changed in my life. Overall, I am still healthy but I have picked up a few less-than-healthy habits. I am not overly worried about it. I am confident that I can dial things in over the next couple of weeks.

I think of John constantly. Every night before bed, I watch the remastered versions of the original Star Trek. John and I watched it together when we were young. Typically at the end of almost every episode, there is a little witty banter back and forth between Kirk, Spock, and Bones. These moments always evoked a laugh from John who would throw is head back while he laughed out loud. Somehow I have adopted watching every episode from start to finish as a sort of tribute to John. I watch on John's iPad that I inherited after John left us. It has become a habit and I don't feel like my day is complete without watching the next episode. Soon, I will be done with the whole series.

To be honest, watching TV in bed is not something I ever did until now. Except for the occasional hotel stay, Melissa and I have never had a TV in our bedroom. And we still don't. But now we have streaming video on our iPads and ear buds so we can watch different shows if we want to. We can pause the programming whenever we want and watch a great variety of shows. I am not sure it is all that healthy though. It ends up keeping me up late and I don't get as much sleep. Training for Ironman is an intensive lifestyle and sleep is critical to health and success. With 68 days to go until Ironman Louisville, my training is going to be notching up and rest will become even more important. If I was to analyze it from a psychologist's perspective, I would probably conclude that watching TV in bed before sleep is a coping mechanism. Not only does it remind me of fond times with my brother, it is also a form of escapism. I feel like if I did not watch TV or read a book I would likely just burst out in tears. I guess I don't really want to do that.

Lately, I have been relying on caffeinated sugary beverages to help offset my afternoon sleepiness. That is also something new in my life. I used to drink lots of soda and Red Bull but in January of 2010, I quit. Typically I don't consume any caffeinated foods or drinks until I get to the marathon during Ironman. I do want to put a stop to it. I gave myself a preliminary deadline of August 1st. That deadline has passed and I am still having an afternoon Red Bull. My next deadline is in 8 days. I will be 60 days out from the race at that point. My goal is better health and also to set myself up for success during my race. Tolerance to caffeine is something that is easily built up in the human body. I want the caffeine kick from coke to work its magic while I am running the marathon portion of my Ironman. In order for that to work, I have to cut back on it before the race. And now since it is written, it shall be done. Well, maybe tomorrow.

Ironman Chattanooga Race Report

It only happened once and it really only lasted for a few seconds. I had a negative thought. "I am not going to do this again. I am tired." Fortunately, I know how to deal with negative thoughts. I pushed it aside. I thought of my brother John and his stoicism. I thought of my Dad who was no longer with us. I thought how lucky I was to be alive and able to push my body. I thought of Melissa and my friends who were there to cheer me on. By thinking of all these positive people and things, I was able to push the negative thinking out of my head. And that was good. Because the hard part was yet to come.

Here are a couple of pictures I use during the race to fight negative thinking. I carry these pictures in my head.

John learning to walk

Inspiring Smile

Ironman Chattanooga starts with a downstream super easy swim. At least it was for this inaugural event. Unfortunately, there was no way to warm up before the swim. Our first order of business after body marking and putting nutrition on our bikes was waiting in line for the busses that would take us to the swim start. I sat next to an older Japanese man on the bus. He asked me if this was my first Ironman. I told him it was number three for me. Then he told me this would be his 20th Ironman and that he was a 16 hour guy.

The swim was a rolling swim start that had us all lined up, sitting down, waiting. I really did not like sitting and standing around before the race. As luck would have it, I ran into a friend who I was able to hang out with so at least that made me a bit more comfortable. Normally, I would swim for a while before the race to get my mind and body warmed up and prepared to race. For this race, once it was time to race, we ran down the ramp, jumped into the water and started swimming.

The current was fast. Interestingly enough, a strong current favors slower swimmers more than fast swimmers. I did not know that going into the race. But afterwards, my coach explained it in a misunderstood Facebook comment that enlightened me and made me understand how the entire dynamics of a race can be changed based on the swim conditions.

I am not a fast swimmer. But I am also not slow. I put in lots of work in the pool to prepare for Ironman and while I might not be fast, I am persistent and consistent. Since the swim was so short, I did not get to reap the fruit of my labor as much as I might have in a lake swim. But I have come to love swim training and am very happy that I put in as much swimming as I did. I plan to continue to work on my swim so I can improve my speed and endurance. To me, having a strong swim is a great foundation. When I come out of the water, I don't want to feel as if I have survived the swim. I want to feel like I crushed it and am ready to charge into the changing tent, have a quick transition, and move right onto the bike.

Once I was finished with the 2.4 mile float down the river, I ran up the steps leading out of the water to a wall of sound. There were so many spectators lining the swim-out chute. Where did they all come from? It was quite amazing to see and hear everyone cheering us on. The cheering and attention made me feel special and it made me run faster into transition. I ran up the steep carpet covered ramp with vigor, passing several people who were struggling with the ascent. One thing that lots of hours in the pool does for you is help you with the transition from swimming to the run into T1. Some people get a bit wobbly when they get out of the water. I was the same way when I first started in the sport. But all my training had prepared me well and I scooted up the ramp with ease.

Here are a couple of Pros running from the water towards T1

 



Once in T1, I grabbed my bike bag, made my way to the changing tent and changed as quickly as I could. I had a faster transition than my last Ironman for sure. I have dropped a couple of things from my gear so that I have less to deal with. I used to wear a cycling "do rag" and cycling gloves. No longer. I don't need them and dealing with them adds time to my transition. In the end, I had a 6:30 T1 which, for a middle of the pack age grouper like myself, is decent. There are plenty of people who were quicker but I was by no means the slowest.

Once on the bike, it was time to enjoy a very fast ride out of town. Typically the swim portion of Ironman greatly spreads out the athletes in the water which in turn spreads everyone out on the bike course. Because of the nature of the swim course, this did not happen at IMTN. There were so many bikers crunched together on the course, it was virtually impossible to follow the rules. In Ironman, there is no drafting and riders need to keep a distance equal to four bike lengths between each other. It is up to each rider to maintain this distance. Passing is permitted of course but you have 20 seconds to complete the pass. Otherwise, you have to drop back out of the draft zone. The course was so packed, that was impossible. While there was a speed advantage due to the drafting, there were also plenty of times where I found myself looking for space on the course. This caused me to surge here and there to get in front of some of the packs so I could ride at the pace I wanted. I probably over cooked the first loop because of all the leap frogging I did with various people.

Once I went through special needs and onto the second loop, things had finally thinned out a bit. By then, I was already starting to fade. The second loop was much harder than the first.  I looked at the bike splits for my friends and it looks like everyone struggled in the same places that I did. I did a lot more coasting on the second loop and my average speed was slower. But I still felt pretty good. My legs were not hurting, I was getting plenty of nutrition, and best of all my butt did not feel terrible.

Before I continue on to the rest of my riveting story, I have to tell you about the "Sabotage on Hog Jowl Road." Apparently some locals thought it would be funny to scatter tacks and motor oil on the road. Fortunately for me, I made it through unscathed. But many people were not so lucky. I saw at least 20 people on the side of the road changing flat tires. That is way more than normal. Usually you see one or two people here and there with flats. Twenty to thirty is very unusual. I did not think much of it until another rider asked me what I thought and suggested sabotage. After the race, Ironman confirmed the sabotage. Some people just really suck.

That last 20 miles of the bike course was tough. Not because there were giant hills or anything. I had simply been out there 5+ hours and was getting fatigued. I think I did well with my nutrition although I did not drink as much Perform as I usually do. The Perform they had on the bike course was so sickly sweet and did not taste the same as the Perform I had used in training. I don't think I could have done anything differently with my nutrition that would have prevented my fade except maybe drink more Perform. Likely I slightly overcooked the first 30 miles of the course. My average speed for the last 20 miles was much slower than any of my other splits. But I rallied on the way back into town and was excited to move onto my strength, running.

Racing an Ironman is great fun. After completing the 116 mile bike ride, I jumped off my bike and handed it to a volunteer. At Ironman events, the volunteers rack the bike for you in T2 which is a nice luxury. I ran through the rows and rows of bags, hoping that I did not already run by my bag. My mind was not exactly sharp at that point and I had a feeling of uncertainty as I trotted through the rows of red bags looking for mine. I finally spotted it and grabbed it up and ran into the changing tent for a quick transition. Running shoes-check. Visor-check. Bike gear back in run bag-check. Quick trip to the porta potty- double check. What a relief. And I was off.

Here are a couple of shots of the rows of run bags I ran through to pick up mine plus a close up of my bag.

 

The run-out chute was jammed with screaming spectators. I heard and saw Melissa which always makes me smile. And I saw my good friends Jon and Meredith as well. My friend Sally saw me and started running along the fence and cheering. I got a chuckle out of that which is a great way to begin the marathon. Relaxed, feeling good.

During the bike leg, I was passed by a fair amount of riders. Not as many as in the past but still a large number. Also the swim was a rolling start and there were several hundred people in front of me in the line when we started the swim. My division (men 45-49) rank on the swim was 190 out of 274 finishers. On the bike, I was 176 out of 274 finishers. All of this means there were a lot of people on the run course in front of me. It was time to do something about that.

Once on the run course, I immediately starting passing people. I was running strong and maybe running a little too fast. But I was determined to catch some people who I knew were in front of me. For the first 8 miles I ran a 8:26 pace. At one point in the first few miles, a woman ran past me. I looked at her calf to see her age group and it said, "P". At first I did not know what that meant. Then I realized she was a pro, likely on her second lap. She still had a ways to go to finish so she may have been one of the many unfortunate ones to suffer the wrath of the sabotage on Hog Jowl Road. I decided to pick up the pace and run with her. After all, I do these races for fun and what is more fun then running off the shoulder of a pro? We were running pretty fast and she could hear me breathing and shot me an icy stare over her shoulder. She looked a bit perplexed.  After just a few minutes, I backed off and let her go. But I kept her in my sights for a while until I hit an aid station.

Typically I walk through the aid stations so I can adequately refuel and cool off. I grabbed several ice cold sponges at each aid station and tucked them into my jersey right over my heart. I would run with those in my jersey for a while and then as I approached the next aid station, I would take them out and wring them out onto my head and down my stomach. I mostly drank water, Perform, and coke at the aid stations. That is, until I started burping up gross Perform bile. Then I simply stuck to coke and water. This strategy worked for the first 2/3rds of the race.

It was about mile 16 where I started to have doubts and started to fade. I was able to quickly push those doubts out of my mind but I was starting to lose my mojo. Miles 17 to 20 were mentally tough. I did not really like that part of the course. We were running in the shoulder and while it was flat, it was a junky part of the course. Cars would wiz by honking their horns and cheering. The honking was more annoying to me than helpful. I finally made it to the Veterans bridge and made my way across. Of course I knew that the hills on the other side of the bridge would be waiting. I had run up them the first loop. I was not sure I could do that on the second.

Sure enough, I hit the hill and had to walk. I did get a spark from seeing Melissa and my friends on the hill. It was the last time I would see them until the finish. I tried to soak in their cheers but I was struggling. I finally crested the hill and started rolling down the hill. I run pretty fast downhill typically and tried to gain back some of the time I lost walking up the hill. Even my downhill running was much slower than on the first loop. My energy was waning. Looking back, I think I could have done better with my run nutrition. Next time I do an Ironman (next October in Louisville, Kentucky), I am going to experiment with taking in some bananas on the run. This time around, when I stopped to walk through the aid stations, I found my breathing to be elevated and walked much longer than the first time through. Lesson learned I think.

After walking up almost all the hills in the last 6 miles, I was finally crossing the Tennessee river for the last time. There was a gradual incline on the walking bridge and I was so cooked that I had to walk some of that. But once I crested the bridge, I knew I only had a little ways to go so I picked it up and hammered it home. There was a nice downhill section into the finish line chute. Somehow I always find one more gear at the end of these races. I was able to pick up the pace and pass several people in the last 200 yards of the run. And while most people slow down for their finishing picture with their hands in the air, I just ran. I love to run and this was the time to do it. For me, that is the way to finish.  No fancy dance, no rituals, just running hard through the finish line.

It was a hard fought run and I missed my run goal by about 8 minutes but was still pleased with my overall performance. 1:01:24 swim, 6:25:40 bike, and 4:08:08 run. Add in 6:30 for T1 and 4:57 for T2 and my total time on the day was 11:46:39. I had beat my goal of 12 hours and was pleased. I also learned some things about how I could do better the next time around.

Since the race, I have done one very short swim and an easy 2 hour bike ride. My knee is bothering me from the race and I am working on rehabbing that now. I hope to be able to some 5Ks over the next month. Of course, I have already started looking towards next season and have done some tentative planning.

I have lots of people to thank for helping me reach my fitness and racing goals. First and foremost is my genius wife who supports me in everything I do. We both train and race. That can sometimes takes its toll. But with Melissa, it is so easy. We look out for each other and work well together. We have had over 20 years of practice. We are pretty darn good at being married.

I also have to thank all my friends who came out and cheered. It was great to see you all on the course. It still amazes me the power a friends smile or shout of encouragement. Thank you all!

Thanks to all my training partners, JJJ and BOTRBOTL. Thanks to Meredith and Jill for their support throughout the season. Thanks to Jon Cencich for all his encouragement and straight talk.

Finally, I have to give a big shout out to Dave Luscan at DLMultisports. It has been a real joy working with Dave this past season and I am looking forward to continuing to work on my triathlon goals with him. Dave is extremely knowledgeable about all things triathlon. He is quick to offer advice on gear, training, attitudes and anything else related to the sport. Dave is grounded in science and if there is data available to guide training decisions, you can guarantee Dave has analyzed and interpreted the data. It would be an understatement to say that I liked his approach. Thanks for a great season Dave!

Thanks for reading. Comments appreciated.