Joe Hafner's IMCDA 2009 Report

It would be disingenuous to wax poetic about the resilience, stamina, and dedication required to complete the Ironman distance, without first giving a big shout-out THANK YOU to all of the people who had the resilience, stamina, and dedication to support me. Your prayers, encouragements, and well-wishes made my day worth every sacrifice. The IronPrayer verses and the individual prayer requests got me through the miles. And for those who call me "coach" (you know who you are) - I love you guys and hope to emulate you in more areas than you emulate me.

If you've ever read a race report, you know it usually starts with the swim and runs chronologically through the entire 140.6 mile journey, sometimes in true HighDef detail. This report will break that pattern, instead focusing on the highlights, lessons learned (aka "areas of greatest potential" as Coach Swedberg likes to say) and a few of the noteworthy people on (and off) the course.

Highlights:

Arrived at the starting line healthy - what can I say? So many people get to the event with an injury. My only physical complaint was a dodgy IT band the day before the race, but some intense massage did the trick and worked out the kinks.
No blisters, falls, crashes - My feet looked pretty much the same after the race as they did before, as did my clavicles, elbows, shoulders, hips, etc. It helped that the rain held off during the bike segment, keeping the roads much safer.
No intestinal issues on the bike - Last year my GI felt like a bomb went off as I rode from aid station to aid station with a persistent lower gut ache. Might have been something about "Don't try anything new during the race". I heeded that advice this year, despite all the "good ideas" and "breakthrough products" bandied about in the Ironman village on Friday and Saturday. Note to others "don't try something new on race day - even if Michael Lovato says it helped him win last year".
Well hydrated throughout - I did the unthinkable and listened to my body! I drank when I felt thirsty, and used a fairly diluted solution of Nuun in water. The electrolyte content in Nuun probably wasn't that significant, but it helped make the water more yummy. I also learned a really cool trick to stay in the aero position, get the tablets out of the Nuun container and into the water bottle with one hand, without spilling them all over the place. Ask me some time and I'll show you.
No bike mechanical defects - Despite all of my nicer-bike envy going into the event, I have to admit that my bike has been super-reliable, even though my maintenance skills leave a bit to be desired. I also lucked out and found a local shop with a set of race wheels to rent for significantly less than the Seattle area shops. Those wheels made a difference, especially considering the windy conditions.
Pre-race nutrition was spot on - I'm not a particularly picky eater. However, after eating the exact same portion of steel cut oats with coconut oil, raisins, walnuts and honey with a banana chaser every single day for the last 4 months, I was ready for a change. But I waited until the day after the event. MMMmmm, PopTarts!
Pre-race routine (including porta-potty timing) was good - I have a thing about my race day morning routine. My goal is to get the bike tires pumped up, hit the john, get the wetsuit on and down to the swim start without ever feeling rushed. Check.

Lessons Learned:

Weather matters - the weather forecast changed hourly in the days leading up to the race. I didn't know if I should pack for 74deg high temps, or a hurricane. For the conditions, I was comfortably dressed on the bike (with my newly acquired arm warmers: dollar store women's trouser socks in stylish grey...), over-dressed at the beginning of the run and a little under-dressed at the end of the run. Those temp swings can wreak havok on the heart rate.
Gear matters - okay, to all those who've found unique and interesting ways to tease me about my extended transition times (no, I didn't pack a sleeping bag, thank you very much) here's the thing: on my long rides leading up to the race I was getting progressively less comfortable riding in my tri shorts. The shammy on the RTB bike shorts is pretty thick, so it's cushy, but not great for swimming or running in. So I changed from jammers during the swim, to the RTB bike shorts for the bike, then into my Oomph! tri shorts for the run. All that taking off and putting on added time. Unfortunately, either the bike shorts or my bike saddle still weren't perfect. Beginning at mile 40 and every 20 miles thereafter I had to stop and call out for Vaseline and a latex glove. I will leave the details to your imagination... All that to say that I'm in the market for a better saddle and open to suggestions for better tri shorts.
Pacing matters - "negative split, negative split, negative split" Since every leg of IMCDA is a two-loop affair, my mantra and goal in life was a negative split. As it turned out, I was 7 minutes slower on the second loop of the swim, 20 minutes slower on the second loop of the bike, and uhh, I have no idea what I did on the run because I left the Garmin on the bike. I'm not sure how much more conservative I could have been, but with all those smart and fast athletes claiming a negative split as the holy grail of endurance events, I'm sure they must know something I don't.
Love matters - not the way you'd think, though. My time was 13:02. I spent about 3 minutes chatting with my wife at the aid station she was volunteering at. Hmmm, sub 13 sacrificed for love? On the other hand, I had the special privilege of seeing and hearing lots of friends cheering for me, which definitely provides a psychological boost.

With better preparation and no change in fitness (in other words, faster transitions and no Vaseline stops) I could easily have taken another 15 minutes off my time. That means I really only need to find another 47 minutes of fitness improvement before next years race to go sub 12.

People of note:

Polka dot arm-warmer guy - This guy had the most, uh, noticeable arm warmers. He was fun to have nearby on the run course because he got lots of attention from the spectators.
Weird toe-shoes guy - This guy had shoes shaped like his feet, with little toes and everything. I don't really think you could even call them shoes. They were pretty much like non-slip gloves for your feet. I passed that guy, thank goodness. Not sure I could have looked at myself in the mirror if I hadn't...
Bob - Bob passed me on the bike with a very polite "I think I'll get ahead of you for a little bit". Bob was probably in his 50's, wearing running shorts and a cotton t-shirt and riding a bike that had the aerodynamic qualities of a mountain bike. In fact it may have been a mountain bike. I never saw Bob again...
Heckler party guy - There was a section on the run where the spectators were flaunting their inebriated state with a full blown karaoke system run by a guy with a pretty good sense of humor. I was passing by on one of the loops as he announced to another athlete, "Hey man, bad news is that you are getting your [butt] kicked by a girl. Good news is that you've got the best seat in the house." Classy.
Ironbarbie - RTBs very own PK has earned the Ironbarbie moniker. Always smiling, hair in place, looking just as moist and dewey as if she'd just stepped out of the pages of a triathlon magazine.
Smooth Bill - every time I saw Bill Swedberg he looked calm, cool and collected. Running with his smooth-as-butta stride and tossing milk chocolaty encouragement to me as we pass each other. What a guy!
Super Jerry - picture Jerry coming up over a rise with his space blanket flapping behind him like a cape...
The Intimidator - Craig and I went for an easy ride on Friday before the race. He was next to me, so I didn't spend too much time looking at him. But on the race course, seeing Craig on the bike he looked focused and in-charge. His poker-face visage belied the hurt he was putting on the riders around him. As we passed each other on one of the out and back sections of the bike, I heard another cyclist ask if that was the bodily incarnation of Dale Earnhardt Sr...
The All-American - I remember seeing Brad Williams come through the transition tent last year when I was a volunteer at IMCDA. He came through T1 so early and so fast that he utterly intimidated me. I actually stayed on Brad's feet during the first part of the swim this year. Well, if the first 100yds count... Brad really knows this race and I learned a lot from him.
The Battle-Hammer - Kelvin and I met last year when we went out to volunteer. If you aren't friends with Kelvin, its because you haven't met him. What an awesome guy.
The three amigos - My friends Brian, Jon and Casey came out to support and sign up for next year (well 2 out of 3, right Brian?). They made the race so much fun for me because they kept popping up in unexpected places. It was like a Where's Waldo of three yelling dudes, totally cheering me on. Even after they thought I got lost in the transition tent, they didn't give up on me.
Camo-skirt gal - This race report would not be complete without an honorable(?) mention of Camo-skirt and top gal. I happened to catch sight of Camo-skirt and top gal at about mile 18 of the run - she was about 200 yards ahead of me. I was "motivated" to follow her for the next 3-odd miles at a pace that would have been entirely unsustainable. Her, um, tempo was mesmerizing, and I appreciated her great, er, running form.

I dropped an hour and 17 minutes from my Canada time last August. My preparation for Canada was questionable at best. Leading up to Cd'A, my training was consistent, if not necessarily of tremendous volume. In fact, seldom did I exceed 12 hours in training, including a long 3-5 hour bike ride on Saturdays. I focused on quality workouts and adequate recovery, and feel that this is a workout routine that I can live with and still keep balance in my family and personal life.

The most overwhelming feeling I had as I ran through the chute at Cd'A was one of validation.

Thanks to everyone who helped me get here. And a special thank you to Patty Swedberg. Validation as an athlete, as a triathlete, as an Ironman. Validation for the hard work, and sometimes difficult decisions that had to be made. Validation as a father who models a balanced, healthy lifestyle for my kids. Validation as a person who can set a goal and achieve it. The only other person in the world who can really understand the depth of this victory is my awesome, loving and supportive wife.

Kelly Richards Escape from Alcatraz- Year 2

Kelly Richards completed the Escape from Alcatraz in 2008 and did not get enough, so went again in 2009... here is her short report:

Once again I had this notion I would love to do Escape from Alcatraz.

Why is it so alluring?

Maybe it is jumping off a boat in cold rough water?

A 1.5 mile crossing of a river.

Or the basketball size jellyfish I swam over. Four of them.

Where is that current? The waves hit you from the right, but the current is caring you West. Math and directions, not my strong point.

The 3/4 mile run after swim to transition? When you can not feel your legs from knees down or any part of your arms from elbow to finger tips.

18 miles of hills and stomach acid? The rough roads and skinny tires make for a hair raising combination. Let alone the sharp 90 degree turns and the wall.

A 8 mile run up hill with stairs, more stairs, beach, sand ladder and finally a down hill.

3 hours later the finish line is in sight. Feeling like you were in a washing machine and dryer.

One day later and still feeling ill. Thinking I ate a jellyfish!

Sign me up again!

Matt Morrisson's Sub 3 Hour Marathon Report...

2009 Capital City Marathon

Well, this story starts more than two years ago in 2006. Kathy and I decided it would be fun to run the Disney World Marathon in Jan 2007, and I set a goal to run under 3 hours. My PR was 3:05:00, so it seemed achievable. I trained well and around race time, I felt like I could do it. The Disney World Marathon starts at 6am, and race morning we walked out to 100% humidity and around 65 degrees (forecast was for it to be in the mid 80s by the finish). I tried to stay positive and stay on plan to run my goal pace. I was going OK in the early miles, but I could tell the heat and humidity was getting to me. By half way, I remember thinking 3 hours was going to be awfully hard. After mile 17, I was still doing OK. As I ran along, I thought "I should have seen mile 18 by now, maybe I missed the mile marker." A little further along, I thought "Maybe I missed a couple mile markers, if I'm really at 20 miles, I think I can still make 3 hours." Needless to say, I didn't miss any mile markers. When I saw 18, I was mentally toast. Looking at my watch, I was sure I couldn't go under 3, and I probably couldn't even get a PR. I really got down on myself, and once I hit mile 19, I started walking, and walked all the way to 20. I cursed the marathon many times, and swore I would never run another one again. I alternated between running and walking for a few miles and ran in the last couple. I finished in 3:34:12, which isn't a bad time, but quite a ways from my goal.

Lessons learned from that race:
- I don't run well in the heat, which I already knew.
- If I had modified goals to match the conditions, I likely would have had a much better finishing time.
- Stay positive. If I had hit 18 with a better attitude, I would have had a more enjoyable race.


Fast foward to January 2009. I finally felt like I could attempt to run a marathon again and I picked Capital City since I had run it before and did reasonably well. My original plan was to just run it with no time goals at all. Just a low pressure run to get my marathon legs back. My early training went well, and my fast runs went really well. I was able to do some long pace and tempo runs at a pace that would put me under 3 hours. The turning point came at the Fort Steilacoom 20 Mile race. The race was on Saturday, but my training schedule had a 9 mile pace run on Friday. I decided to stick to my original training plan with the pace run, and just use the 20 miler as a little faster long run. I ran the pace run at 6:44 pace, so I figured the race the next day would be maybe 7:30-7:45 pace. I ran the first 5 miles at what seemed a comfortable pace, and I was surprised when I looked at my watch at realized I was running under 7 minute pace. Since I was feeling good, I decided to just keep running at that pace. I felt great until about mile 17, and even then I was able to finish fairly strong. My average pace was 6:44 (a 3 hour marathon is 6:51 pace). My marathon goal went from "just finishing" to maybe a PR, and maybe even under 3 hours. The rest of my training continued to go well. I had one week with more miles than I usually run and started to get some minor injuries; a sore hamstring and sore foot. Luckily the next week was the start of my taper, and all the little aches and pains subsided.

The day before Capital City race day, I was nervous, with my stomach fluttering away. The weather forecast was for highs in the low to mid 70s, which would not be good for me, but I stayed positive. Race day finally arrives. It is still cool at the 7am start, which helps alleviate my fears of heat. The gun goes off and we head downhill toward the water. As I get close to the first mile marker, I think how that felt nice and easy. I glance at my watch and see 6:05. Oh crap! Way too fast. I calm myself by thinking "its OK, it was downhill". After that, I quickly settle into a better pace. I see Kathy on her bike around mile three. The miles click off easily for a while, running in the 6:40s. Around halfway, a guy catches up to me from behind and we run together for 5 or 6 miles. We chat as we run along, and he mentions that he thinks we might run 2:55:00. I tell him "all I am aiming for is 2:59, and I'm staying on plan". We start to make headway on a runner in front of us, and this guys says "I think we can catch him". My reply again is "I'm not running for place but rather for time, and I want a 2:59". A little after that he picked up the pace slightly and I just stayed on plan. The marathon course rejoins the half marathon course at mile 18. A little after that, I started seeing half marathon runners. Spectators were cheering everyone on, and when they would see a marathon bib number, they would cheer and say "great job marathon runner". At about mile 21, I could hear cheering behind me for a marathoner, so I figured someone was catching up to me. Farther down the road, I could tell the cheering behind me was definitely more enthusiastic than it was for me. Then I heard someone say "first marathon woman". Ah...now it was clear why the cheering was louder. At mile 22, there is nice downhill section. I checked my watch and saw 2 hours 27 minutes. I only had to run the last 4.2 miles in about 30 minutes, and I felt I could do it. This was followed by an uphill at 22.5. The hill is not particularly steep, but it goes on and on and on. It is more than a mile long. I could feel my pace slow, but I was still running past half marathoners, so I knew I couldn't be going too slow. A little past the top, the cheering behind me was getting closer, and it wasn't long until a pace car was driving along side me, then past me, then Annie (the eventual 1st place woman) passed me. There was still about 1.5 miles to go. At this point, I am running about as fast as I can, but it sure doesn't feel fast. Everything is a blur, and I don't hear anything in particular. I am focused, I just keep repeating to myself "...2...59...2...59...". My legs feel like mush and my breathing is labored. I pass the 25 mile marker, watch says 2:50 and change. "If I can run 1.2 miles in less than 10 minutes, I will have it!" The last mile is downhill, which is a blessing. I keep waiting to see the top of the finishing banner, but it seems to never come. Less than half a mile to go, I can see the finish, but it seems so far away. I was to stop running, but I keeping pushing. I can feel my head starting to tip backward as I run, and it takes a mental effort to force myself to bring my chin back down. The time clock comes into view. I see 2:59:30 and think "OH NO! I'm so close, and I'm not going to make it!" As I get a little closer, I realize it says 2:58 not 2:59. My head starts to tip back again enough that I feel like I will fall backward. I cross the finish line and fall into the arms of volunteers. Kathy is there to help me too. It is clear that I'm not totally coherent and I need some help to get to the medical tent. My head is swimming, and I feel faint. Blood pressure is strong though, which is good. I lay there and drink, not easy to do, but they get me a bendy straw :) My nose and lips are tingling, which I find strange. Once I recover enough to get up, I feel a lot better quickly. My legs are tired, but not totally shot. I walk over and get some food, and even have a slice of pizza.

In the end I finished 8th overall, and 1st in my age group. And I finally got my sub 3 hour marathon! 2:58:43!

Lessons learned from this race:
- Stay on plan. Even when feeling good.
- In the last few miles when you get tired, keep running hard. It might be unpleasant, but you can do it.
- Respect the race day conditions, but don't get psyched out by them.

“Safety” Cones: Don’t believe the hype!

Humbly submitted by Brian Guillen following the Issaquah Triathlon: 5/30/2009

As I sit here reading a Triathlete Magazine article entitled, “Overcoming Mental Obstacles in Training” I cannot help but feel cheated. So I turn the page with my bandaged hands, wincing in pain as I toss the magazine to the floor. Over the years, I have read many articles about overcoming nearly every obstacle, both physical and mental, facing the triathlete. But never have I come across an ounce of helpful advice about dodging the dreaded Safety Cone on the race course.

Yesterday morning, I pulled on my wetsuit and waded knee deep into the lake and waited for the horn to sound announcing the start of the Issaquah triathlon. I entered the race with the sole goal of beating John Curley for the chance to win a donation to the charity of my choice. Believe me! I had no other aspirations other than surviving the race in full health so I could resume my training for later-season races.

But the gun sounded and suddenly I felt I had to do everything within my power to be the first one to the finish line. The short quarter-mile swim seemed to be over before it began and I found myself starting the bike leg in fifth position. After a few miles into the 15-mile bike course I passed two people and it appeared that I was beginning to pull back leaders. The legs felt good and I was settling into a nice, comfortable groove. At a hill at mile 6, I opened it up a little and quickly ascended at which point I noticed I was still gaining on the leaders. I crested the hill and put my head down to get the full benefit of aerodynamics as I descended the hill at 30 mph. I was in a full aero tuck, looking at the white line upon which I followed closely. I looked up to see further up the road and suddenly noticed a row of orange safety cones lined up on the white line immediately in front of me! Having no time to react, I waited for the inevitable to unfold.

There are a few occasions that occur in a man’s life which enable him to defy the very laws of time itself. This peculiar phenomenon of which I speak manifests itself in the apparent near-stopping of time so as to allow for full and complete absorption of all the sensory information that is so rapidly being presented to his brain. This can make a 5-second event from another’s perspective seem like hours to his. For a man, this phenomenon is typically experienced either during sexual intercourse or in those instances where he has nearly kissed death. I was unfortunately experiencing the latter.

I hit the first cone. The bike bounced to the left but kept me on track for the rest. I hit the second and third cones. The bike came out from under me and I was suddenly airborne. I landed hands-first and began the last leg of “ The Brian Guillen: Swim-Bike-Skid-On-My-Arse Triathlon.” And, oh, did I skid! At one point during the skid I thought I was nearly done, but I just got tossed over to the other side of my body and kept going still surprised by my ground speed. I came to a stop roughly 15-20 yards later and remained on my back doing mental diagnostics of the damage. I crawled over to the ditch to get off the course while the race volunteer called for an ambulance.

Luckily, I was out of the hospital in two hours with only bandages around the appendages. So I walked back over to the triathlon and came across John Curley. I showed him my wounds and joked with him that this mess was all his fault. Very kindly, he expressed his condolences and handed me a “I beat John Curley” shirt. Very nice gentleman, that man is. But one thing is for certain: it’s harder than you think beating John Curley!

Saving the best and most important news for last: the bike is perfectly fine! In fact, in looking at the bike you wouldn’t believe I crashed. It appears to have slid entirely on the non-drive train side, preserving the derailleurs. Unfathomable!