Ironman St George 5-5-12

What better way to spend cinco de mayo than by swimming, biking and running 14 and half hours in 35+ mph winds and 85 degree heat?  It has been a really long time since I have posted anything on my little blog.  Mainly because I have been training for this race in St George called the Ironman.  Well, about three weeks ago, I finally got around to racing what is surely the goal of triathletes world wide, the Ironman.  Now I will actually have a little more time to... okay, to be honest I really did have time to write in this blog, I have just been putting it off because I just didn't feel like it, but this race is so massive, so epic, so huge, so emotional, so awesome that I felt it deserved to be written about.  So here we go.

I have been planning to do this race for well over a year.  I have been wanting to do an Ironman for a very long time but during the spring of 2011, I finally decided that I would do it.  Then during the late summer of 2011, I did XTERRA Utah and decided that I would work to qualify for the XTERRA national championships.  I researched the locations of the races, looked up hotels and maps to figure out how long it would take to drive to each of the races and this went on for most of the fall.  Then I attended a triathlon clinic and spoke with a woman who had done an Ironman and for some reason I felt so inadequate.  It gnawed at me for the rest of the night and for a day or two after that.  Finally I decided that if I did not want to feel inadequate around triathletes that have done an Ironman, I needed to become an Ironman so on Dec 31st, I paid the $600 registration fee and signed up for the race.

For the next few months, I swam, biked and ran 8-12 hours a week through what has been the most mild winter I can remember.  I think the triathlon gods have been watching out for me this year.  Finally winter gave over to spring and the week of race had arrived.  K Jo had taken the Thursday and Friday of that week off, then decided to take Wednesday off too.  Wednesday morning, I got off work, slept for an hour and half, then we packed up the car and drove the 4 hours to St George.  First thing we did when we arrived was pick up my race packet.  We were given multiple forms to sign and read, given our bib numbers, a swim cap, a triathlon bag, and lots of other flyers and goodies.

Individual race bags, bibs, swim cap and triathlon bag.

We checked into our hotel, and the I went on a short run to acclimate to the heat.  The next day brought a short swim in Sand Hollow Reservoir with some guys I had met previously this year.  This was the first open water swim I had done since XTERRA Utah back in September, but it felt good.

Before the pre-race sand hollow swim. (L-R) Dan, Trevor, Ruston, Me and Keb

Getting Ready to start swimming. 

Men of Ironman Calendar Shot (L-R): Dan, Trevor, Ruston, Spencer, Andy, Keb and Me... I need a tan...

I then went back to the hotel where I changed and then rode my bike about 15 miles along an unfamiliar portion of road in St George which was to be the bike course.  Along the ride, I noticed a funny feeling in my pedals so I brought my bike to the designated mechanics of the race.  They soon discovered I would need new bearings in my crank.  They promised that my bike would be good as new the next morning.  The rest of the day was spent lounging by the pool with K Jo and attending the athlete dinner/mandatory race meeting.  I woke up Friday morning, had breakfast then drove to the race finish line to drop off my run gear bag.  The finish line had been set up and it was a unique feeling to walk past it knowing that in a little more than 36 hours, I would be crossing under the arch and declared an Ironman.  I then picked up my bike, drove back to the hotel and picked up K Jo.  We drove back to Sand Hollow to drop off my bike and my bike gear bag, then went to watch the Avengers.  Great movie.  After the movie, I had a much needed massage and the rest of the day was spent again, lounging by the pool.  Mom and Kim drove down to watch the race so we met them at Chuck a Rama for dinner.  We had a good chat, then they drove off to check into their hotel.  We made it back to our room and I went to the front desk to purchase a sleep aid.  I took one around 9:45 and drifted off to sleep hoping that I would make my 4 am wake up call.  I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.  When I opened my eyes again, I felt AMAZING.  I had not slept that well all week long.  I groggily grabbed my phone hoping that I had not slept through my alarm and checked the time... 12:45... Crap... I had only slept three hours... At least it was a restful three hours.  The rest of the night was spent switching between watching "My Name is Earl" on Netflix and trying to get some more sleep.  Finally around 3:45 I decided to start getting ready.

K Jo had coordinated with Mom to drive to the Washington County Fairgrounds to take the spectator bus to watch the swim start so I found a ride to the Athletes buses in the town square.  I was too excited and nervous to sleep on the bus on the way to the reservoir, but I enviously watched other athletes nodding off.  When we arrived, I passed throngs of athletes waiting to have their race numbers written on their arms and their ages marked on their calves.  I had applied my temporary tattoo numbers the night before so I just wanted to use the porta potty and get my nutrition taped to my bike.  I passed a young female volunteer who had obviously become bored waiting for the athletes to be marked.  She was offering free hugs, so I stopped opened my arms and embraced a complete stranger... Feels good to be hugged when you are so nervous.  I got my bike ready, used the facilities, stripped off my sweats and hoodie, put on my wetsuit, then made my way to the water to watch the professionals start.  On the way I looked and looked for mom and K Jo but never found them.  I entered the water about 15 minutes before we were to start.  The day was beautiful.  The water was clean and cool, the day promised 83 degree heat and little to no wind.

1700 athletes, treading water. I am somewhere near the orange buoy. 

What a beautiful day for swimming in Sand Hollow Reservoir.

We tread water until the cannon went off and we were racing.  I thought, "Finally, here we go!  In 12 and half hours, I will be an Ironman!"  As I swam the first leg I would glance at my new garmin to see how far I had gone and how fast I had made that distance.  We made the first turn, started heading East and I was cooking.

And we're off!

Great day for swimming!  Felt so good to be in the water.

 My goal for the 2.4 mile swim was 80 minutes.  At the pace I was swimming I was going to finish in 70 minutes.  Then a funny feeling started.  I felt myself bobbing up and down not unlike swimming in the ocean.  My first thought was, "Why are the letting boats on this lake while we are racing."  I then heard a woman say something about wind and I thought that there was no way the wind could be blowing that hard.  As I would turn my head to breathe, I would be slapped in the face by spray from other athlete's arms entering the water.  I realized that we were in fact swimming in some pretty massive wind.

Buoy being blown around with spray from an athlete.

We made another turn to head north and started the longest stretch of the course, straight into the wind and the waves.  I became angry.  I don't know why, I was just pissed that we had to swim in such horrible conditions.  The waves were easily two to three feet high.  I would swim front crawl, turn to breathe only to be smacked in the face by a wave.  As I lifted my arms out of the water to start another stroke cycle, they would smack into the top of a wave and push me back.  Then I would fall off the crest of a wave and smack my face and head on the surface of the water.  I would swim 20-25 yard front crawl, then switch to the breast stroke just so I could find one of the buoys directing us where to go.

After about 10 minutes of this I thought to myself, "I give up.  I can't race in these conditions.  It's too hard." No matter what I did, there was no respite.  Swim face down, get smacked by waves, swim on your back, get pounded by waves, the only thing that felt good, was treading water, bobbing up and down.  There were times I thought I would drown.  I thought, "I'm going to die and they are going to name this race after me." After giving up, I started heading towards a kayaker.  When I realized that I was actually making progress towards the kayak, it hit me... I was making progress towards the kayack...

Swimmers making their way to the finish.

I had two hours and twenty minutes to finish the swim and I had until midnight to finish the race.  I could do this.  I thought "I have paid hundreds of dollars towards training, equipment, nutrition and travel to prepare for this race and I have spent hundreds of hours of training."  I can do this.  My friends are waiting back home to hear about how amazing it is to do and be an Ironman.  I can do this... My wife and mother are waiting on the shore, likely afraid that I am drowning somewhere in this water... I HAVE to do this.  My new found confidence quickly turned back to anger, then back to fear of drowning then oddly enough to jubilation... Weeeee! riding the waves is fuuuunnn!

Wave crashing on the beach... this is not the ocean...

I watched Sand Hollow's rock island slowly creep towards me, then creep by on my left, then behind me.  As I swam I stopped at a capsized kayak for a break.  I saw at least one other kayak capsized then watched a rescue diver jump into the water in full scuba gear.

Sand Hollow's Island in the background

After passing the island I could see the buoy signaling the final turn so I turned west, finally swimming with the waves and the wind.  I exited the water after swimming for 96 minutes to cow bells ringing and people cheering us on.  I sat down as volunteer pulled my wetsuit off of me, then grabbed my bike gear bag and prepared for the 112 mile bike. 

Swim finished!  If I look exhausted, it's because I am.

I grabbed my bike and ran out of transition desperately searching the crowds for Mom and K Jo.

Exiting T1

I never did see them and they never did see me, but Mom started taking random pictures of cyclists hoping that her camera would not go into power save mode so that she would be ready when she did see me.  One of those random cyclists turned out to be me, so she ended up getting a great pic of me on the bike.

Mom's "random" pic.

I left the state park, made a right turn and headed back into the 35 MPH wind for 4 miles to head back to St George.  We made a left turn at SR-9 and headed up the hill toward Washington, the wind finally at our backs.

Fighting the wind to SR-9

The ride into town was actually not too bad.  We had the wind pushing us along for most of the ride back to St George.  We ascended, then descended Red Hill Parkway and crossed SR-18 to start the first of two 43 mile loops.  This loop passes through the towns of Santa Clara, then Ivins, makes a right turn and ascends to Gunlock Reservoir, then through the town of Gunlock itself.

Riding past Gunlock Reservoir.

4 miles outside of Gunlock is "the wall".  It is a little less than a mile long, and averages a little over 5% with some spots as steep as 15%.  Not too bad you may think, but we rode up it twice, once at mile 46 and again at mile 89... after the terrifying swim and after riding into a head wind for most of those miles.

Making my way, slowly, but surely.

 When I finally arrived in the town of Veyo for the second time, I stopped to refill water bottles and tried to force down another GU gel only to have it threaten to force its way back up.  I knew I was done with GU for the day.  We climbed a little longer along SR-18 to the top of a rise to see the first of a series of volcanoes that reside just off the highway.

Descending SR-18.

 This last 12 miles of the ride were the hardest for me.  My feet ached from pushing the pedals all day and my butt hurt from sitting on the narrow saddle all day.  These last miles were a delicate dance between pressure and pain in my feet and pressure and pain in my tush.  I had no idea if I would be able to even start the run, let alone finish 26.2 miles.  Just after mile 103 at the final aid station, I refilled and did all but coast to St George.

Still smiling after 109 miles of riding.

 At mile 109, I saw mom and Kim before the final, cruel ascent before the last 2 miles into the town square and T2. After 7 hours, 29 minutes and 2 seconds, I handed my bike to a volunteer then waddled into transition to change into my running shoes.

In the change tent, I sat, completely spent.  A friendly volunteer grabbed my bag, dumped the contents on the grass and asked what I needed.  I took off my helmet, and took off my cycling shoes.  The volunteer gave me my running shoes and visor and I put them on, grabbed a few more GU gels hoping I could keep them down if I ever got around to eating them then looked down to see the volunteer stuffing all my bike gear in my bag.  He asked if I was ready to run.  I took a few steps and was surprised to see that I felt no pain anywhere.  I guess I was.  I thanked him, then exited the tent where 6 glove laden volunteers lathered sunscreen on my arms, legs, face and neck.  I told them, "This is so weird... But I kind of like it..."  They all laughed and wished me good luck as I lurched forward out of transition.  Later, mom would tell me that if she were to volunteer at a race like this, she would want this job.  Something about lathering lotion on hard bodies... I don't know... I left transition and in about 100 yards, saw K Jo, her sister Bobbie, and her sister's fiance, Luis.  I stopped to give my wife a big sweaty hug, and told her I was going to take a very long time to finish so she was free to go get some dinner.

Right near the beginning of the run.

 The 26.2 mile  run course followed the streets of St George in the shape of the "M Dot" of the Ironman logo, with a spur that tilts to the northwest... Some racers called it the devil's pitchfork...

This course was a little more than 8.5 miles long and we would run it three times.  There is a roundabout on the intersection of tabernacle and main.  We would see that roundabout 10 times during the run.  The finish line sat about a half a block south of the roundabout and half a block north of the westernmost leg of the "M" which meant that we would see the finish line 16 times during the run.  Before the race, I thought this would be murderous torture, but soon discovered that each time I ran near that finish line and heard "The-Voice-of-Ironman", Mike Reilly utter the words, "You are an IRONMAN" over the loudspeaker, my eyes would well up with tears and I was more and more motivated to kick it and finish this cursed race. I ran the first lap, hitting every aid station for water and the occasional package of GU chomps.  These sat in my stomach much better than the gel.  These aid stations were placed about every mile apart and each one was like a tiny oasis.  Not only were the volunteers eager and friendly, the aid stations were stocked with sponges soaked in ice cold water.  These offered relief from the 85 degree heat as I squeezed the water on my head.  The aid stations were also stocked with bananas, oranges, pretzels, otter pops, Ironman perform (kind of like gatorade), and my favorite item of the race: chicken broth... this salty little concoction was awesome during the race. I ran the entire first lap and all of the downhill of the westernmost leg of the "M".  I could take no more running.  After 10.1 miles, I turned around to head north and back uphill and decided to follow a pattern of running the downhills and the flats and walking the uphills.  About halfway through my second lap, another racer running the other way called out my name and cheered me on.  I did not recognize this man, but every time we passed each other, we would yell out encouragement.  I started thinking about who it might be and remembered that two weeks before, I had met a man while I was running the Salt Lake City Half Marathon by the name of Chris Wright (I know, cool huh?).  We met at mile 9 of the half marathon and ran the last 4 miles together.  This racer finally caught up to me and his bib number confirmed what I thought.  It was indeed Chris.  When he caught me, he also slowed to a walk and we chatted while we finished the last 10 miles of the race, following the pattern I had previously established.  We also walked through every aid station.

I saw mom and Kim again on the second lap and the third lap.  They found K Jo, Bobbie and Luis and at mile 20 of the run.  I walked up to K Jo and gave her a lopsided hug, then kept walking.

Only six miles to go, hooray!

 Chris and I turned around at the end of the handle of the devil's pitchfork, then ran the rest of the way down Diagonal Street, past the roundabout, around the cones near T2, then I slowed to a walk to let Chris have his moment.  I followed about 10 seconds behind, high fiving all the spectators.  I saw my group of personal cheerleaders and waved, then coasted to the finish line as I heard Mike Reilly announce, "Christopher Wright, Salt Lake City, and Christopher WHITE! Sandy, UT..."  I waited for the famous, "YOU ARE AN IRONMAN", but it never came.  I think I would have been more disappointed but after 5:15:30 of running, and 14:34:20 of racing, I was just happy to be finished.

Finished!

I was draped in a space blanket by a volunteer who put his arm around my shoulder and ushered me around the finishing chute where I played the grinning idiot as I was awarded my finisher's medal, had a volunteer take off my timing chip, took photos at the finish, then ushered to the athlete food area.

I love the delirious look in my eyes.

 I was handed a bottle of chocolate milk so I took off the cap and was foiled by a foil seal (HA!).  I sheepishly asked a voluneer to remove it for me and drank it down.  I saw Chris shortly after that congratulated him, and thanked him for carrying me through the last bit of the race.  I waddled to the bag retrieval and asked to borrow a volunteer's cell phone.  I called K Jo and had them meet me.  K Jo left to pick up my bike and I laid on the grass in my sweats, hoodie and space blanket, shivering and hyperventilating.  I called my coach, Lora, and told her about the day.  Kim asked me if I was ever going to do another Ironman.  I responded in the affirmative expressing my desire to someday finish under 12 hours.  We went to dinner at Chili's where I acknowledged other racers and we discussed the difficulty of the day and our elation at being done. During dinner, Mom told me, "Chris I feel bad about saying this, but I am exhausted."  I chuckled.  Spending all day watching an Ironman can be difficult too.  K Jo and I made it back to our hotel room at 11:30.  I showered and my head hit the pillow shortly after midnight.  I awoke at 8:00 with a voracious hunger so I ate some pancakes and went back to bed until 11:00.  I was so happy and proud to have done such a huge race, but a little disappointed that it did not go better.  K Jo drove all the way back to Sandy and I made a lot more phone calls.  Once we got home, we surveyed the damage.

New sandals and painted toenails.

Leg burns.

Age group number.

Back and shoulders had it the worst.

Anyone want to guess what my race number was?

Neck with friction burns from wetsuit.

14 hours in the sun will do that to you.  The dogs were happy to see us.  The next day,  Kim sent me this video:

It more than made up for Mike Reilly not calling me an Ironman.  I am excited for the rest of the year and for my next Ironman Challenge.  Thanks for reading!