Cam Brown says that an Ironman Run is 30Ks of hope and 10Ks of reality. Reality kicked in a little early for me last Sunday...

The Paleo Brothers

Race week was outstanding this year. As usual, I was based at my buddy’s house (Brad Cochrane). There is something about staying in a loving family environment that makes it easier to prepare to race. As well, I had my girlfriend (Shan) with me and a coaching pal staying next door. The mood was very relaxed. For the first time in a while, I did everything right in the lead up to the race – food, sleep, training, it was all on target. When race morning dawned, I was ready to roll.

I tried something new for the swim, I swam slower at the start than usual. I lined up at the front with the strongest swimmers but instead of trying to sit on their feet, I let my first four lead-out men drop me. I then hopped on a set of feet that looked to be going a solid pace. For once, my body wasn’t seething with lactate and my start seemed about right. The group settled down and I focused on keeping my chest down, my stroke long and being relaxed.

There were a few surges but my pace was comfortable so I was easily able to step it up and cover them. Reading Lisa B’s report about looking over and seeing her pal swimming beside her made me smile. Late in the swim, I looked over and saw Lisa and knew that I was having a great swim! We have a huge difference in stroke rate and it was neat to lope along beside her.

The clock had shut down when I exited the water but I figured that I was under sixty minutes. When I looked at my watch and saw that I was standing in transition with 54 minutes showing… I thought my watch had stopped! Starting the bike looking straight at the lead female vehicle was also a brand new experience for me. Normally, I don’t see it until the back side of Richter.

The Rocket is Ready

I always tell folks that the swim doesn’t really matter in IM. However, when you exit the water up with the top guys and several minutes ahead of schedule, it totally takes the pressure off. I was in the fortunate position of immediately feeling like I had time to give away and that’s just what I did for the first 50 miles of the bike.

Around the 20 mile mark, Mike McCormack rode by with a posse of pros hanging off his wheel. Whether they were riding clean or not didn’t matter as I could easily see that they were riding too fast for me! Watching them up ahead, I estimated that they rolled through the 25 mile mark comfortably under 60 minutes – smokin’ fast! Normally, all this excitement is happening well up the road from me and it was neat to be right in the middle of it (if only briefly!).

Coming back into town

My ride was pretty uneventful – my goal was to ride about five hours and I managed my pace and effort so that I came in around that time. A pro buddy used me for pacing the back half of the course and he rode very clean, refreshingly clean! The sharp end of the field was pretty spread out and, despite the lack of draft marshals (just like 2001), everyone looked to be riding fair. The male AG and female pro fields looked very stacked up, but that didn’t bother me as I was in a different race.

Back in town, I started the run needing a 3:06 to go sub-9. I was relaxed and having an outstanding day. My preparations had worked very well, I was fresh, fuelled and in a position to achieve a big PB.

I took it out much more conservatively this year (last year I busted out a 19 min 5K to kick off my run – don’t ask why, it seemed like a great idea at the time). The run in Ironman is a tricky thing to get right and I am not sure what happened. The bottom didn't fall out, the race just slowly ground me down. The last 1:20 of running, really, really sucked. I was in deep suffering, close to despair but not quite there. Based on past experience, that’s what a decent race is supposed to feel like.

On the run

For most of the run, I was in 10th place, 9th pro – just inside the money, just inside my second Subaru jacket. This kept me going through some material discomfort. Late in the run, two Japanese passed me. That was depressing, except for the fact that I thought it was really neat to be in a position for Shingo to have to run me down – maybe I’ll get passed by Peter some day… the caliber of my competition is certainly improving over the years.

So, I was now out of the money but word was filtering back to me that there was a guy up the road having trouble and I was pulling him in. I managed to pass him and got myself back into the money and back into a jacket. That gave me just enough encouragement to avoid cracking. It’s a strange place to be, sitting on the edge of folding. It sure would have been tougher to run those last 10Ks knowing that I was out of the money. The guys just behind me showed a lot of class.

Once again, I learned that Ironman running isn’t really about running fast – it’s more about slowing down the least. I slowed HEAPS in that final 10K but managed to hold off a late charge by some strong runners as well as a fast closing Lori (2:56, yowza! I need that kind of speed).

I was a bit of a mess near the finish – I threw my hat into the crowd and nearly followed it over the fence! A few high-5s and then it was all over. Thank God. The pain had finally ended.

Last year I ended up in the Med Tent and I was determined to stay out this year. So I power walked around the transition area for a bit then elevated my legs. Unfortunately, my blood volume was too low for this to be an effective strategy and I had to head over for a check up. Last year, one IV and I was out the door. This year, two bags had me feeling better but still pretty dry. As always, the medical team were very friendly (we are starting to get to know each other better).

Feeling OK about 90 minutes after finishing, I checked myself out of the tent and headed out to dinner with Shan. After my first course and a liter of drinks (non-alcoholic!), the blood went to my stomach, the colour drained from my face and I nearly passed out again! Main course to go, please... back home, turned yellow and slept for 10 hours. I heard that Lori was dancing at the finish line well past midnight. So far my post-IM PB is 11PM.

Another jacket and my girl Shan

Looking at Garrett with his winner’s trophy was incredibly inspiring for me. Here is an “older guy” that’s trained himself to the top through tons of hard work. He’s kept coming back to IMC year after year and paid his dues. He never complains, trains like a machine and lets his racing do his talking. I was totally stoked that he won.

Ironman Canada is a very special race and I’ll be back next year for another crack at the nine-hour barrier. Whether I score another jacket is out of my hands but I sure hope McCormack comes back and rides the legs off my competition.