The Conclusion

I'm alive.

I wish I could write of an utterly fantastic performance, but it leaned more toward the mediocre side. I had an average swim - probably better than what most would consider average, but for me it was slow and steady. There were 2,500 people in the event and I was maybe 25th out? Not for sure. I haven't had the time to scrutinize all the results. The bike was good...I felt great starting out. And then about mile 80 I started to lose concentration. I'd forgotten how steep the hills were around that town - can it be that they increased the grade of those country roads? It felt that way. Nonetheless, I had a pretty solid bike. I did see a guy vomiting on the bike as I passed him. A little too much water maybe? He was like Vesuvius.

The run. My nemesis. I was in a fair amount of pain getting off the bike - not a good physical or mental condition heading into a 26.2 mile run. The crowds helped. Madison has fantastic crowd support. And good volunteers. The run is kind of like being in the Emergency Room the whole time. There are ambulances taking people away, a guy in a little 4-wheeler medic vehicle taking people away, etc. I myself had about 45 minutes of la-la land. I actually had to stop and sit down for quite a while at mile 16. I felt sick....sick like the guy I passed on the bike. I sat and held my head for a few minutes, let my heart rate drop way down, then I stood up and walked. About two minutes later I had to sit again. This was not good. I had 10 miles to go. Up until that time I'd put in a fairly good performance, but there I was sitting watching people pass me by. I don't know exactly what I looked like, but another competitor stopped as he passed me and ask twice "Are you OK". For fear of some type of medical intervention I mustered up an "I'm good" and even shook my head affirmatively to support the statement. Body language convinced the guy and he continued.

It didn't really matter at that point. My time, or place, or anything. I saw another guy being taken away in that small 4-wheeler medi-vac type thing and I thought "good for him, he's out honest". I had a few dark moments where I was really, really hurting bad. But, after a few minutes I stood up, and starting walking again. And then I ran for 50 paces, then walked for 20, etc. I stopped taking in any form of calorie. I think that's what got me - I was hungry off the bike and started drinking some new type of Gatorade (but not Gatorade - some new Nestle product made for Ironman) they had at the aid stations. The stuff made me sick. It could have been lack of salt - my wife told me I had salt in my eye lashes when I was done, as well as everywhere else. Whatever happened it passed on. I started to come out of it at mile 22. At mile 23 one of the volunteers said " 3 more miles - do it in 30 minutes". And I agreed, I started running with some effort and it didn't feel that bad. It actually felt pretty good.

My time was slower than two years ago, unfortunately. But I've learned a lesson. Ironman is not necessarily about your time. I'm not so sure it's even about finishing - which is what gets most finishers excited. At least that's what they say: "I finished". Starting something just to finish it is not rewarding. That's like reading a book just to get to the last page....and not paying any attention to the plot, or enjoying the character development along the way. I can imagine it like being an artist just trying to get another humdrum piece of work completed for sale: boring, lifeless, without meaning. I can't define the meaning completely in words, but it was the struggle, the will to push my failing body along. It's a crazy sport. It's not even really a 'sport' is it? It's more a test. A cleanse. Oh well - enough rambling public philosophy.

One really cool part - I have a neighbor whose mother lives in one of the towns we ride through. As I was tearing through this town, going through a round-about in the street there sat a woman I've never met, holding a sign that said something like "Good Luck Jason Brooks from FORT WAYNE, IN". I screamed out, pointed to myself, saying "I'm Jason Brooks from Fort Wayne, Indiana". It was a great moment that truly cheered me up. I shed a few tears as I pedaled away after seeing her support/effort - but I'm kind of a sap that way.

Saturday September 11th

I'm sitting here in my hotel. My family is coming up today via train through Chicago, then up to a small town near Madison. I registered yesterday, got all my transition bags, the stickers for bike and helmet, my timing chip. They took my weight so the medics have a benchmark in the event I end up in a medical tent...I suppose if you go from 180 to 170 lbs in one day you get an IV. I met a guy that has done this event in Madison every year since its inception - 9 years in a row. The oldest athlete is 72 years old. He wants to do it in 12-13 hours! I want 10-11 range, so that guy is like superman. The Germans are here again....ranking third in International presence. Canada is 2nd. UK is 4th. All 50 states are represented. A total of 21 countries have athletes competing.

I've been slamming COLD-EZE, drinking orange juice, and drinking lots of 'Naked' 100% smoothie juices. I don't like to even write about illness, as in a 'cop-out' pre-race as plausible justification for poor performance, my sore throat is not going to be the reason I use if I don't meet my time. It will have been lack of training. I had a few conversations yesterday with people - sounds like their volume was a lot more than mine. Maybe they were bragging though...people like to talk big sometimes.

Today I have to pack up all my gear. This event has an 'assisted' transition, I guess you would call it. You get out of the water, lay down on the ground and people strip your wet-suit off like a banana. Then the run to transition, which goes up a circular parking garage ramp into a nice conference center. In this huge room there are rows of numbered transition bags. I find my SWIM to BIKE bag, with a volunteer's help, and get ready. Helmet, socks, shoes, sunglasses, Hammer gel, then I run to my bike. Calm, lower my heart rate, and settle in for 5.5 hours of cycling. I need to get my BIKE SPECIAL NEEDS bag ready today...spare CO2, tube, Powerbars maybe, rain jacket maybe (although the weather is supposed to be nice). In my BIKE TO RUN bag I'll have shoes, another pair of dry socks if needed, visor, and maybe a few more gels. Then I push through. Easy. RUN SPECIAL NEEDS = a spare change of shoes, Powerbar if needed, and lots of methamphetamine. Kidding.

I'm excited. A little nervous. I just want it to start, but I have another day to lay around and wait. Thanks for reading my thoughts over these past several months. This blog did help me maintain my consistency. It also allowed me to do something other than swim laps, peddle, and run. I tried to make it more than an exercise journal, as how interesting can that be? I have just a few hours to decide if I want to go through all this again next year. I'm thinking not. I'd like to do Muncie next year, and Steelhead. But I'd really like to get in Escape from Alcatraz...a triathlon that starts on/near Alcatraz with a swim to San Francisco in cold strong current shark water. YES! Too bad there's a lottery to get into that event also. I'm listless - not sure where to go now. I see a lot of people that have given up - they just work their 40 hours per week, watch TV at night, pay the bills routinely, think about what happened in their lives and what could have happened. I think that may be what Ironman does for people - it wedges something good/challenging/healthy into mostly ordinary lives. And it's not in the pursuit of money. Quite the contrary on that note. I'll do Wisconsin again, but likely not next year. Although - boy I would be in good shape. Build upon where I am now? Who knows...I have until 11:00 am today to get in.

Photo Journalism

A few pictures of the bike... and one of me and the boys.

Note the nice wheels on that number. I have no idea how to place these pictures into this blog world. Anyway - there's the bike. I took it into a shop today for last minute tweaking...the front derailer has been floating out of the big ring back into the small ring. Not good. The shop did a quick adjustment for free. Love it.

That's me with Liam and Finn at a recent camping trip. Beautiful southern Indiana. Today was rest. Tomorrow I'm going to run 6, Thursday swim on lunch, Friday drive to Wisconsin, Saturday swim a portion of the course in the AM, sight the beach land marks relative to the buoys, check my bike into transition, lay around, read, try to sleep, and then SUNDAY it begins.

This is really getting exciting huh?

near the end

I went to Jorgensen today for likely the last time. There was an aquatic ZUMBA class going on...so I was stuck on the wall with a fairly good high school swimmer sharing a lane. A less than ideal final swim. I'll swim two more times before next Sunday.

I ran 6 miles yesterday morning and rode 25 miles after work - left from my office and went straight into the country. It was a beautiful, windy ride. I paused for a moment to coast, something I rarely do on the bike, and let the last few months run through my mind as I watched the clouds race along. Working toward high level fitness takes a lot of time - its worth the time. I truly do feel blessed to be able to train and approach something like Ironman.

I went to a couple bike shops today to pick up some last minute items. Some liquid calories, another 160mm valve inner tube that will fit my Zipp 808's, a tire iron to change flats...and I bought a new helmet. I've worn my helmet out - the strap is broken, the inner padding has had a bit too much sweat. Isn't that pretty? So, there goes another $150.

Here's my race plan: swim easy, bike easy, run solid. The swim is a mass start. 2,500 people in a lake, a rectangle swim, big cannon fires off and everyone starts pounding it. My plan is protect my face...I'm going to wear contacts this time...and clear out from the crowd. No kicks to the teeth. The goggles have to stay on. If I lose them, and lose a contact, so be it. I'm planning to have my glasses in my T1 transition bag. The last time I did this everyone it in was considerably larger than me, from Germany (or some other country), and they all seemed to be physicians. The medical community sees the benefit of having a well conditioned heart I guess. Out of the water in 56 minutes or less?

The bike: settle in, take in calories, and get ready to put in my time. I wouldn't mind trying to hold 20 mph. The Madison course has lots of hills, some very similar to southern Indiana. I like hills, like to work them, and coast down fast. So this suits me well. I've never ridden hills like this on a time trial bike though where all the shifting is done up front, in the aero position. I don't climb well in that position - I like to be out of the saddle. So, I may have a bit of a learning curve with all the shifting between big ring and small ring. I'm going to go light on calorie intake. Slightly less than 100 per hour. I'm going to start out with 3 bottles - two of HEED and one water. I'll drop one mid-way and snag another water from the aid station. I'll have the opportunity to hit my BIKE SPECIAL NEEDS bag at mile 56...maybe some rain gear. I could be pouring and cold.

Run: Only 10% of Ironman participants finish the marathon in under 4 hours. Most have to walk. I fall into the most category. At least I did in 2008. So - we'll see. The marathon starts off ugly and just gets much worse as the miles pass by. If I can keep my glucose and hydration right I think I can plod along. RUN SPECIAL NEEDS: spare shoes...nice to change into dry shoes if it's poured rain the first 13 miles. Nothing else really - maybe a Snickers bar. Of all the high tech nutritional supplements I always crave and seem to perform well on straight-up sugar. Maltodextrin has it's place but a Snickers bar taste pretty good at mile 130.

And then it will be over. What then? I don't want it to end really. Which is why I'm thinking of signed up for next year. I'll be turning 40 years old next year. I'd prefer to keep in shape, all tuned up and ready to go, for as long I as I can.

I could see the bat's shadow in the moonlight

Ran early today. Dark the whole time now...the sun is barely up and it's 6:45. I can no longer ride to work comfortably,too dark. Those lovely morning rides didn't last long. As I ran this morning I could see the shadows of bats occasionnally swoop near me to check things out. There was a bright moon, a few loud talking walkers to break the fear going through the dark portions of the park.

Saturday I ran 6.2, Sunday I rode 50 then ran 5.5, Monday was rest, Tuesday I swam 2,000 yards, this am ran 7.5. I'm feeling pretty good. My heart is conditioned no doubt. Today is Septmerber 1st. My first word was 'sorry'...as I forgot to turn off my alarm which goes off at 4:50am. I was downstairs lacing up my shoes when I heard my wife turn it off. Oops. Anyway - I missed 'rabbits'.

75 Indiana miles

Rode 75 miles last Thursday. Good ride to Roanoke, then travelled north, then West a bit more into areas I've never been.

Friday was a rest day.

Saturday I rode 47 miles in the rain with a friend. We came upon a really bad auto accident out in the country. The ambulance had arrived, but they were still trying to get one person out of the car. Pretty gruesome sight. The Men of Steel guys didn't ride because it was raining. Huh? Fear of rust I suppose.

Sunday I ran 9.5 miles. Good run. I'm writing more brightly about running lately.

Monday ran 12.5 miles early AM. Here's the deal...my hearing 'goes out' sometimes in both ears when I run long distances. I've been telling my doctor this for over three years. My hypochondria has no end. So anyway she talked me into doing a hearing test with an ear/nose/throat specialist wherein I run for 12 miles then pop right into the sound chamber to see if they can detect anything. I ran circles around a hospital complex in the Fort (Dupont). I know every nook and cranny of the grounds now. Then I ran into the waiting room of a medical specialist and sat down, dripping wet, with a towel to sop up the perspiration. It was one of the most ridiculous moments of my life. I drank from the water fountain obnoxiously, as if I'd been lost in the desert for a week. My eyes were post-hard run blood shot, my hair was matted and wet and a mess, I changed my shirt in the parking lot and quickly soaked the fresh one. All the while I could hear every breath and my heart beep clearly in my right ear. I achieve the goal: the ear had 'gone out'. I sat. And sat. And my pulse returned to normal. And then my name was finally called....I explained the experiment in quick detail, told them I'd been running around the building in the dark for the last hour and forty-five minutes, next thing I know I was alone with little beeps going off through some head phones. I think I could hear them all. I responded affirmatively to every beeping beep, to my surprise. The nice lady did a series of test, then I saw the doctor, and on and on. Conclusion: hold your nose, close your mouth, and try to blow out your ears. "That should do it", my $30 co-pay specialist said.

I was looking for something more. But, it does seem to work. All that effort. All I needed to do was Google the subject I suppose.

This morning I put in a good 2,000 yard swim. Did 50's with head out - like what it takes to swim in an Ironman mass start with a whole bunch of bodies all over the place. Rode my bike home from work....was holding 25mph pretty consistently.

bike fit

I had a professional bike fit yesterday. This is well worth the time. Most of the study is a series of measurements and flexibility angles that your body can achieve while cycling. My fitter noticed my odd ankle - which I had long forgotten. "Have you ever broken your right ankle, or sprained it badly?" he asked. As a matter of fact I did - my freshman year of college playing ultimate Frisbee. I loved that game. My ankle swelled up to the size of a grapefruit, and my college swim coach still made me get in the water. Twenty years later it's still 'off'. My hips are good. One femur is a touch longer than the other. My flexibility is off the charts - "pretzel flexibility" is how he put it. Even so he raised my bars higher than what I think looks cool. Took a perfectly good bike and made it look a little goofy. What once just looked fast now looks my age. It is a bit more comfortable. My back will be slightly straighter, head a bit higher, but the aero envelope is still minimal. I'll hold this position for 5 hours, pedalling madly the whole time. It's important in Ironman distance to have a comfortable fit, not necessarily the the most aero fit. We did move the bars slightly in, elbows a touch more center. We changed the seat also - recently on a long ride my trusty saddle didn't real right. Instead it felt like pain and agony, with raw skin to prove it (sorry, it happens). I prefer Specialized...but learned that they drop a bit over time. I'm riding a test saddle to see if I like it; good marketing from the dealer. A bike seat cost about $150-$200. Crazy huh? Other than the seat decision my bike is ready, God willing I won't destroy the thing again. Tomorrow morning I'm doing my last 100 miler of the training season. Not sure the route yet...might just wander Indiana for a while and see where I end up.

Tonight I ran 8.5 miles. Good and fast. Stronger than I've felt all summer. I drank a glass of Champagne leftover from my wife's birthday a few minutes before heading out. So, OK, I'm not your normal triathlete. Maybe that's the key to running enjoyment? Champagne bubbles? It didn't seem to phase me. Actually was the fastest 8.5 I can remember. I'm ready to race NOW. Timing this whole thing to 9/12, being at peak level on a target date, is hard to do.

I wonder if they alow Champagne in your 'special needs' bag on the bike in Madison? Doubt it. More on the various bags that I have access to during the race later. To bed for me.