THE FIRST EVER IRONMAN HAT-TRICK FOR A GLENROTHES TRIATHLON CLUB MEMBER IN THEIR FIFTIES:
Three annual medals in a row, and a third finisher T shirt. As you can see, 2022 features the Klagenfurt dragon.
The dragon's statue is in the city centre:
Writing this blog a week after Ironman Austria 2022, and I've just returned from Kinross service station, where I was collecting my race bike from the lorry of Nirvana, official transport partner.
There was another competitor collecting his bike. 20 years younger than I, and when I asked how he got on in Austria, he replied ... 'It was so hot, unreal ... I made it to the end, but then I collapsed and they put me on a drip feed!'
Over recent years I've made it a specific, to have some training sessions on Scotland's rare 'very hot' days. These have been restricted however, say to running for an hour on Kirkcaldy Prom, at a maximum of 25 degrees. The objective has been to take myself into some form of zone where I am really feeling some heat, so as to practice for what may happen on a hot race day. You arrive at that feeling, when you start getting a bit dizzy, and nauseous. Now learn and manage it. Having arrived there, the only thing you can really do to fix things, is stop, take some shade, and do whatever you can to cool yourself down. If you don't stop and cool down, heat exhaustion can lead to heat stroke, which occurs when the body's internal heat reaches 103 degrees F or higher, and at that point one potentially loses consciousness!
That was the sum of my 'heat exhaustion contemplation and experience' prior to heading on the plane for Austria Ironman 2022.
If you are reading this blog and are encountering Ironman for the first time, it's a 3.8km open water swim, then a 180km cycle, and then a 42.2km marathon. All of it timed. If you fall behind the extremely precise phased cutoff times, you are basically out, classified as DNF'd - Did Not Finish. From Austria stats, circa 25% of original entrants don't make the finish line.
We arrived in Austria 2022 on the Tuesday of raceweek (race day is Sunday), and for sure a heat wave was in progress. This un-acclimatised Scotsman had puffy hands straight away from the heat, but that subsidised in 48 hours and I was good to go! Or so I thought.
On race day Sunday 3rd July I woke at 4.30am, and had a cappuccino and an apple strudel for breakfast. Then headed to re-check my bike over, in the Ironman transition area 5.30am, put air into the tyres, and fill the water bottle. All set, I headed to the start of the swim for 7.00am. Lathered myself with water-resistant factor 50 sun cream.
So very blessed and fortunate to even be there. Very proud indeed to have maintained conditioned fitness to a level where I even think I can perhaps finish the event. So very honoured and humbled to be once again representing our amazing local, friendly and inclusive Glenrothes Triathlon Club. In the latter context a lot at stake as well today, history in the making in multiple ways if I can finish.
The water temp was 25.3 degrees, wetsuits are banned at 24.5 degrees. So, without the added buoyancy and streamlining of the wetsuit, the swim would be slower by about 10%. I absolutely loved the swim this year, swam the first 3.2km off the busy race line, got into a great breathing tempo straight from the off, and kept a lovely relaxed Total Immersion rhythm with bilateral (both sides) breathing all the way, exiting the water at the end literally as fresh as a daisy. And I was already 40 minutes ahead of the time cutoff, great!
On go the cycling shoes and helmet, off we go on the cycle. 9.15am and 28 degrees, what a stunning morning. Everything feeling just great. Unlike last year's pre-event nutrition, I was totally happy this year. A few tweaks with bike setup, raised bars and a new easier gearing cassette on the back, all very comfortable and sustainable. On the first 20km I was averaging over 30km per hour, and including all hill climbs held 27km average per hour for the first 90km.
During the entire cycle, the aim is to keep going with nutrition, so that later on you'll have enough reserved energy for the marathon section. My fluid intake was going well, but having had two energy cereal bars and one banana early on, I'd noticed after a couple of hours that I didn't feel hungry at all, and actually had begun to feel nauseous.
Little did I know, and defying all Ironman strategic and nutritional objectives, unable to eat, I would need to go on to endeavour to complete the entire day, without eating anything else at all! How to get through a 16 hour 10,000 calorie burn, with only two cereal bars and a banana? The calorie burn is the equivalent of seventy 330ml cans of coke (139 calories per can), or one hundred and fifty 330ml cans (66 calories per can) of Old Jamaica Ginger Beer!
12 noon and cycling into increasing heat, sun now totally up and holding what the Race Briefing had defined as 33 degrees. No clouds. Dang it's hot! Hot enough at this temperature for Scotland to be issued with a Met Office formalised hot weather warning! I took an un-scheduled stop at the 90 kms aid station. They had run out of water, and a few of the competitors were very obviously extremely agitated about it, and very hot indeed. At that point I really realised for the first time, just how hot I was feeling myself.
It’s worth highlighting, at the stated 33 degrees temperature that’s of course recorded in the shade. In direct sunlight it’s usually rated between 10 and 15 degrees even hotter. So yes indeed, in the ongoing Austrian sunlight, it was scorching!!!
Pushed on to the next aid station, 20km later. This aid station had a garden hose running into a brimming container of water. Phewee! By now I was so hot that all I could do was pour pint after pint of cool water straight over my head. I re-filled my water bottle and onwards we went.
A few minutes later I went to take a drink of water, and it had already turned warm. A few more minutes after that, and the water was becoming hot. For the first time, I began to wonder, if that what was happening to the water in a plastic bottle as it made it's way through the roasting heat, was happening to my insides as well? I was now 4 hours in the sun, and knew there were some fairly serious climbing sections to come.
Undoubtedly, I already knew that I was about to meet The Man with The Hammer.
All remaining planned aid station stops turned from 'quick stops' into proper breaks with minutes plus of me pouring cold water over me. I felt literally, that I was going into heat meltdown. Ribs and stomach became sore to the touch, how strange, was this because I was literally cooking inside? When it gets to 102 degrees F, Call 911!
I took a couple of complete stop breaks. Plus a couple of get off the bike and walk in shade breaks, but in all honesty that seemed to be making me even hotter than cycling. The clock of course was ticking, and I remained focussed on keeping calm, and ensuring my heart rate was the key focus, remaining constant.
30kms out from the end of the cycle and I was wondering if, on potential medical grounds alone, I should simply be stopping? But I kept going, feeling now absolutely exhausted, but primarily concerned at what the heat was doing to me, physically and internally. No dizziness or confusion though, nausea was all. All things considered I thought at that point, I would be endangering myself to continue with the marathon.
Upon finishing the cycle, cannot make no bones about it, I was roasted. I was still 30 mins or so inside the day's cutoff time for that point, and instead of running to change for the marathon, I was walking and speaking with one of the bike security volunteers. 'I'm sorry, I don't think I can proceed any further, I'm a Scotsman and 20 degrees is a warm day back home, I've never ever experienced this unrelenting heat on a bike before, I've been unable to eat anything for the last 4 hours'.
Racked my bike. Well that'll need to be that then. Slowly walked to the site water supply and stood under a powerful cold water hose for a good 5 minutes. Aaaah that's soooo refreshing. I was thinking, 'You've never failed to finish any event you have ever entered in history, this was going to happen sooner or later. Accept it for what it is!'
Walked to where my running gear was racked and sat down on the adjacent bench. That'll certainly be that then, on all basis of common sense, medically unable to proceed: 5.20pm.
This photo was taken the following morning, after most of the thousands of bags had been removed:
On my previous two successful Ironman occasions, I had never been this late at this point in the day. Around me, it was a new revelation, the sheer level of personal suffering of fellow competitors who were making the same decision as I. Gent on my left saying 'my cramping is so severe across all of my body, I cannot make it for a hundred metres further'. Lady on my right holding her husband's fingers through the security fence, just standing there in full flow unbroken tears, telling him, 'I have no energy left to give'.
At that point I drank a bottle of pre-planned (albeit now rather hot) Lucozade. 5.25pm.
I was still so hot, so again headed back to the cold water hose for another cooldown drenching. 5 full minutes under cold running water. Aaaah that's soooo refreshing. 5.30pm. Back to the bench.
Started speaking to myself. 'It's such a shame I need to stop, as all I would need to do to complete, is somehow cover the remaining 42.2km marathon!'
Mutter mutter. 'Or in other words, if you were actually fuelled and nutritional properly, you could have done that!'
'MAYBE we should just give the marathon a go!?!' - 'What the heckers are you saying pal, there's no way you can proceed, forget it!'
'Dig down deep lad, you've banked 1,878 training sessions on Strava, today you need to go to the bank and take out some of the cash!' - 'Don't be ridiculous!'
'Somewhere out there on the marathon course, your wife and youngest daughter are waiting for you!'. That recognition was equally poignant and painful.
'There are people right now back home watching my Ironman live tracker, and wondering what the hell I am doing!'
'Maybe we can organise the suffering so as to bear only the most necessary pain?' LOL
'Today we must endure unprecedented hardship. Deciding not to surrender will be our strength!'
What would my original mentor Steven McEwan (founder of Glenrothes Triathlon Club) say if he were here sitting beside me? My best guess, 'Potential death from avoidable heat exhaustion is not a clever way to depart this planet! But if you honestly feel you can now continue without that level of danger to yourself, if you don't at least try for the finish, you will always regret it'.
My pal Marcus, who has given me amazing support since 2014, what would he say? 'That's a lovely new white Ironman running cap you've got there, perfect! Shame not to use it! Get 3 wet sponges in it! That'll do pig!' ... and he starts laughing .... :-) ' (And so would I!)
It was this combined series of thoughts that made me decide to try and continue.
I washed my feet down. Clean socks, and on go the running shoes. Up and down the grass beside the bench I go, knees up and down, one two one two, testing! Stretching knees, muscles, Achilles tendons. Pop two Ibuprofen. My saviour, 6 electrolyte pills up the sleeve. One an hour, to hopefully take cramp out the equation.
My insides feel like they've been compressed and jiggled around, such a weird and painful sensation. If I set off running, will that quickly lead to a total catastrophe?
The clock ticks. The only objective now, is to get the timing chip across the finish line. A medal and a t shirt. And new records for our local club. Anything is Possible!
I do very significant amounts of fast walking during training. Turbo walking is different, faster, I classify that as being under 9 mins per 1km. Over the years I've had multiple injuries from running at 6 mins 30 secs per 1km, but no injuries at all from turbo walking. I've never loved running, but I LOVE turbo walking.
I run the calculation. 42.2km at 9 mins per 1km is 6 hours 20 mins. Now that would work, maybe I can speed up even more and save seconds here and there.
During Race Briefing, we had been informed that this year the organisers would be introducing 'Hero Hour', with the finishing stage and capacity crowd in full flow 'rock star welcome' for anyone who held on and finished between 11pm and midnight. I hadn't paid much attention to that, as I'd been hoping to finish no later than 10.15pm.
We were now at 5.45 pm. So to even make the stage finish, I'd need to turbo walk the entire 42.2km in under 6 hours 15 minutes. Back into the sun we went!
As it transpired, and by unplanned circumstances, I completed in 6 hours 9 minutes.
I had been encouraged by my wife Gaynor and youngest daughter Ruby 5kms into the marathon. And then again at 11pm and near 37kms, passing through a gauntlet of town centre supporters. I cannot begin to say how much it means, to see your loved ones when you are in such circumstances.
In reflecting later on the marathon 42.2km turbo walk, I realised I'd nailed it almost as quick as the previous two years, when I had blended running and fast walking. The reason for that, driven by adrenaline at outset, I immediately and very purposefully settled into a great and controlled rhythm and tempo, which could be managed and maintained. I could see I was actually walking faster than others who were blending running and (slower) walking.
The turbo walk speeds, many at 8 mins 30 secs per 1km, were achieved inclusive of very brief pauses at aid stations every 2.5km, two cups of water over the head, and one cup down the hatch. Similar weather at ironman Hamburg a few weeks earlier, had prompted organisers to add a little salt in the water on water stations. Sometimes the young volunteers at aid stations weren't clear which contained salt, and which didn't. I'm sure I took a lot of salt. When added to electrolyte pills this just made me feel even more nauseous. That feeling actually continued for the next 36 hours.
Two cereal bars and a banana? I took on 14 pints of liquid during the entire day, and lost by estimate, 6 pounds in weight. Certainly the most successful 24 hour weight loss of my life!
What could I have done differently? Perhaps head to The Canaries and cycle train for a few weeks in similar heat? - Not practical for a recreational Ironman!
I saw one competitor with a thin white cloth hat under his cycle helmet, the cloth extended down to also cover the back of the neck - soaked in cold water that would maybe work well?
All other common sense matters, I did my best:
At the pre-race Briefing this year we were told that there were 2,900 entrants, from 72 countries.
Race results show that 2,157 made the finish line.
Results also show the extent of how many gave up after the Bike, eg:
3.7.2022 - The day the Triathlon Gods gave me a hand.
Having had a full week of recovery (and I cannot begin to say how much that recovery has been helped by wearing compression socks for the first four days), I now begin 5 weeks of conditioning for an attempt at Ironman Copenhagen on 21.8.2022 - It's recognised that Copenhagen is the happiest city in the world, with Denmark arguably the happiest country in the world. I hope to complete on the day, age 55 and as a celebration of a decade in and around Triathlon fitness.
Made the Austrian finish line on the biggest stage in Ironman globally, with a few minutes before the stage closed.
In the context of the entire day, I actually had 50 minutes spare:
This year's learning experience makes me think, if the sole objective is to get yourself to an Ironman finish line, theoretically it's possible to have a lovely relaxed swim, then a cycle with multiple 'few minute rests' and even a few brisk walks with the bike during the cycle stage (to stretch leg muscles and ligaments), and then turbo walk the entire marathon. That is possible, because this year I've done it!
At no point in the swim did I allow my heart rate to go anywhere near any point where I would be short of breath, the Total Immersion technique making it feel so easy. Like Tour de France cyclists (excluding their final sprint), effort was continuously maintained on the bike at 60% to 65% effort - never ever more than that. And by turbo-walking the entire marathon, my heart rate was continuously in a very comfortable zone. Stating the obvious, all of this with baseline fitness that enables me to do it. Fail to prepare, prepare to fail!
My wife and daughter were telling me of many of the sad scenes they had witnessed during the day, with so many participants giving up. Grown men and women crying their eyes out, totally exhausted and broken by the heat. So if you are reading this and thinking of giving an Ironman a go, if your sole objective is simply to finish, then figure the maths and requisite tempos into your conditioning.
In the age group 55 - 59 for the first time this year. I'm going to give Copenhagen a try, and then will have a sit-down chat with my family. Maybe it's time to call it a day when we are still ahead of the curve? Then again, as one of my lifelong pals Dave Bryce said to me the other day, 'Why stop when you can still complete?!?!'
Ironman Class of 2022
3 towels? Try 5 next time! Amazing read Nicholas and thanks for the write up. It looked horrendous but never doubted you'd finish somehow. Copenhagen is going to be a new experience and you'll beast that one too. 🐷
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