IMLP 2011 Race Report
Mike Cousins
March 20, 2003. I walked through the darkness to my jet, illuminated under spotlights. As I got closer, I could make out the weapons loaded under the wings: 500 lb. laser guided bombs, Maverick missiles, AIM-9 Sidewinders, and 1150 rounds of 30mm ammunition loaded in the cannon. It seemed surreal as I read the messages scribbled in chalk on the bombs. Training was over, this was game day.
I have never been that nervous during a race because I always remembered how I felt that night. I still hope to never truly duplicate that feeling (it’s a little more serious when you know people will be shooting at you), but as I treaded water in Mirror Lake, watching the clock progress toward 7:00, I felt the same nervous anticipation mixed with a little fear that I felt on that night 8 years ago………….
Warning: This is the unabridged version. The short version is as follows: First IM. Crappy swim, OK bike, strong run. Finished in 10:59. Very happy!
If you decide to read further, you might want to pour a drink first.
Background. I have been competing in triathlons for the last 6 years, a member of the Cyclonauts and doing Half Iron races for the last 5. Having two jobs and three kids always kept me away from Ironman. Between the financial, training, and time-off-work requirements I just didn’t think I could swing it. So when the opportunity to finally race IMLP presented itself, I jumped at it. Because I knew this might be my only chance to race IM, I approached it as such, and put a lot into it – probably more than most people put into their first. I have always raced hard and set high goals, frequently failing to achieve them. I spent three years trying to break 5 hours on a Half before I was finally able to achieve it. While this approach pushed me mentally, it also makes for a lot of disappointing races. I knew that I really did not want to be disappointed after this IM so it was a challenge to figure out my goals. I ended up figuring that, based on my training, about the best I could probably do was around a 10:30. I also knew that you almost never achieved the best time in IM, much less your first. I never really set a time goal, I focused on keeping a positive attitude and meeting my benchmarks for pacing, but as hard as you try not to, you still end up with some times in your head. So I told myself I would be happy with anything under 11:30 (assuming I didn’t have any major setbacks), and very happy with a time under 11:00. The funny thing is that after finishing, the time truly is secondary. The things I will always remember are the special moments: Roulier on Papa Bear, Tater screaming, the bike crash that missed me by inches, and especially two things: 1) seeing the message my son left me at mile 9 on the run , and 2) seeing my family at the finish—I can’t even describe how those made me feel. My wife and kids, often annoyed at Ironman training, rose to the occasion. You don’t get very many moments when your teenage daughters think you did something cool, so this one was pretty good—no, make that freaking awesome!
Race Week. I drove up to Placid on Thursday. Registration and hotel check-in went very quickly (stayed at High Peaks Resort on Tom D.’s recommendation—very nice place) so I had time for an hour ride and 30 min run before my family arrived. Thursday night Totz joined us for a nice dinner on the water. Friday am I did a short swim/bike/run (Thanks Tater for picking me up in Keene). Most of the talk at the lake was about water temp and whether or not wetsuits would be legal. The water temp was right at 76 with two more days forecast in the high 80’s so it was not looking good for wetsuits. Above 76.1 degrees, wetsuits are optional, but if you wear them you are not eligible for age group awards or Kona slots. I really didn’t think I was in the running for either, but I always figure you race to compete, so I would race with a front-of-the-pack mentality. Nothing against the people who chose to wear them, it is a personal decision. I was also fortunate that Jim Sullivan loaned me his Kona legal skinsuit. I wasn’t sure how much wetsuit time it would make up, but it gave me some added confidence in my decision.
Friday afternoon I visited the Olympic ski jumps with my family (very cool!),
then Jim came by my room to look over my gear bags and answer any last minute questions I had. I cannot tell you how much I gained from his advice—he has so much IM experience and is so willing to take the time to pass it along to other club members. He had just spent a couple of hours helping Dan Spellacy and his family move to a different condo, yet was still willing to come by and help me. Thanks Jim!
Friday evening had a big dinner, then got to bed early. Sat am brought my big breakfast and pre-race meeting with the QT2 folks. After breakfast I kicked back then checked-in my bike and gear bags around noon. Lisa was awesome and offered to drive me on the bike course. I figured it was a good way to stay off my feet, and the one thing that was really absent from my training was time on the actual course. I had hoped to get in a training weekend at Placid, but was never able to work it in. I have very few regrets about my training, but that is one. I think the chance to ride that course a couple of times might have taken 10 minutes or more off my bike split.
Sat evening was a light dinner with my family and Tater, then to bed by 8:30. Sleep was a little restless, but probably better than most people. The alarm woke me at 3:30am. Breakfast, bathroom, BodyGlide, timing chip, GPS, and Carol drove me to transition at 5am. I’m still not sure where that hour went. I got body marked, hung my bike bag, inflated my tires, and it was 6am. They were announcing over the loudspeaker that water temp was 77 and wetsuits were “optional.” No sweat, I had already made that decision. Packed the stuff I didn’t need the rest of the day into a backpack and headed up to Mirror Lake about 6:15. Found my family at 6:25 and realized I needed another porta-potty call. I said my goodbyes and was able to use the bathroom right by the dock with almost no line. After that I hung out on the beach until the pros started. At one point Roulier almost tackled me on the beach and shook me out of my trance. I got in the water at 6:50.
The Swim.
My plan was to go 1/3 to ½ way out from the dock, but stay near the front. I ended up in the second row. I thought I would be looking at about a 1:05 swim time with a wetsuit, and hoping it would be under 1:10 with the skinsuit. It sucked a little treading water for 10 minutes with no wetsuit, but no big deal. Once my timing chip got wet it loosened up on my ankle so I stressed about that for a few minutes. Luckily I had put a safety pin in it so even though it was loose it was secure.
The gun went off at 7 and it was game on. Full contact swimming. I wanted to go out fairly hard for 400 yds until some of the weaker swimmers started dropping off. The whole first lap was a melee. It was so tight I didn’t even want to look at my Garmin, but I felt I was holding position ok. By the time I finally sighted I was already past the first turn buoy and heading for the second. I had not even felt the turn at the first. After the second turn I got a little bit to the right, but still didn’t have much clear water. A few hundred yards from the shore I looked down and saw the strap on my Garmin was loose. Momentary panic! Man, it would have sucked to lose that, but crisis averted, I was able to re-tighten it. You know you are getting close to shore when it starts getting crowded again. Out of the water just under 35 minutes, ok pretty close to pace. I was feeling pretty good and getting a little more clear water until halfway to the turn buoy. Then, I suddenly started getting calf cramps. My theory is that I didn’t realize how much more I was kicking without the wetsuit and that led to the cramps. Regardless, nothing I could do but slow down and try not to kick until they loosened. For the rest of the lap, the cramps would subside, then I would try to pick up the pace, and they would tighten up again. I limped through like this and got out of the water at 1:15.
Headed into T1 and man, was it crowded! My first glimpse was of some hairy guy buck naked changing into his cycling clothes. As disturbing as the image was, it really made me wonder how bad my swim was that so many people were ahead of me. I tried to maintain a positive attitude, got my bike gear on and got out uneventfully. 7:38.
The Bike.
I made the hairpin turns out of T1 and heard about 20 people screaming for me. I couldn’t see any of them, but it was cool to hear. Heading out of town I was surprised that I was chilled. Over an hour in 77 degree water without a wetsuit still lowers your core temp a little. At this point, I thought of the warning I had heard most frequently: “Don’t hammer the hills going out of town. The race can be blown there.” True enough, but in hindsight, I think I took it a little too easy. Between being cold, a little disappointed in my swim, and being behind packs of cyclists, I was not very focused.
I took advantage of the opportunity to hydrate and tried not to draft (not that easy based on where I was in the pack). Got to the Keene descent and the wind didn’t seem too bad, mostly a direct headwind. I took almost the entire descent in the bars, only coming up for the left-right turn combo near the end. Not too bad, but the more confidence you have on this part, the faster you can go. One more pitch for course recon. I got to Keene and started working on getting my HR/watts up. Kept seeing over 22 mph on my computer, but my HR and watts were still low. I was, once again, hesitant to pick it up too much, not realizing this is where I should have worked it a little harder. Additionally, now the hydration was catching up to me and I had to pee. The problem is that becomes difficult on the flats. I probably tried to go 4 times before I got back to Jay—resulting in a lot of coasting and lowering my cadence/power/speed. Steve Facchetti passed me in here somewhere, and I saw Dave Couture in front of me on the out-back. It was good to start seeing some Cyclonauts. I got back to Jay and looked at my avg speed for the first time: 20.8. I really thought I would be above 22 here so that was a little downer. The rule of thumb is: whatever your avg speed at Jay, subtract 2 mph and that will be your speed for the course (I ended up at 18.9 mph so it was pretty accurate for me). I felt good at this point, didn’t have to pee any more, and figured it was time to start working. The rest of the first loop flew by. I tried to cap my watts at 230 on the climbs, except for Whiteface and Papa Bear where that is impossible, got a huge lift from the speedo gang at the North Pole, and passed River Road. The Cherries, Mama and Baby Bear felt like nothing. I started up Papa Bear and I see Roulier with Jackie and Julie. As I pass him, he runs up the hill beside me, screaming and cheering! I love him for that…….no homo. It was one of those things that makes you laugh and you will never forget. I felt like Lance climbing Alpe D’ Huez for a brief moment.
After Papa Bear, I started getting anxious about my split. I thought I would do the first lap in 2:45 and knew I was slower. I was praying I would be under 3 hours. I finally hit the split at 2:57 and started thinking about trying to negative split.
About 5 miles into the second lap, I was passing a guy on the left. Simultaneously, another guy tries to pass on the shoulder on his right, clips him, and he cartwheels. I have this vivid image watching his Cervelo go upside down. He must have missed me by 6 inches. While it was scary to watch (I did see him later in the day on the run, so I think he finished), it put things in perspective. While I wasn’t throwing down the times I had hoped for, I was still doing ok, and more importantly had not crashed, flatted, had a mechanical, or had a major nutritional issue. My attitude improved and I thought, “Just make it to the run where you know you can finish.”
I worked the descent and the flats pretty good (although the headwind picked up somewhat). I passed Dave Couture somewhere and we leap frogged for a while. I made it to Wilmington, still felt good, and decided I could still push the hills and be ok for the run. I passed a ton of people in the last 15 miles. The speedo gang’s shift was over, and Roulier was no longer on Papa Bear, so those were minor let downs. Right before Papa Bear there was a girl holding a sign that said “Smile, if you peed yourself.” I looked at her, smiled, and said “More times than I can count.” After cresting Papa Bear, I worked hard into town, and crossed the mat at 5:54, within 30 seconds of an even split.
T2 went pretty fast, except after I got everything on, I was supposed to eat a banana, and also realized I had to pee. I figured I might as well do it now, so I hit the porta-potty, eating a banana while I whizzed. Not the best dining atmosphere, and it added about a minute to T2, but I figured it was an efficient use of time. I exited T2 in 4:33 ready to rock and roll.
The Run.
Call me Ishmael…….no wait, wrong novel. I know this is long, but I’m just trying to get all my thoughts down in the hopes something might help someone next year. Bottom line, my run was the best part of my day on the course.
My plan was to take the first two miles at 7:30 pace, then settle into a 145 bpm heart rate, looking for about an 8:00 average pace for the day. I was supposed to take 20s walk breaks at every aid station, while still responsible for that pace. I knew 20s would be hard for me (mentally), but told myself I would at least do 10s. I did the first two miles slightly faster and settled into a 148 HR. A little high, but I felt good. Saw Jill Herrick screaming at me at the Econolodge, she was so pumped up—thanks Jill! It was getting a little hot at this point. I took the walk breaks but only about 5-10s. I still felt good through the turn around and at mile 9, they have this electronic message board where my son had sent me a message on Friday. I crossed a timing mat and this message comes up: “I’m proud of you, Dad! Love, Carter.” I almost teared up at that. A few hundred yards like I was floating on a cloud after that, then I settled in again. My heart rate was 145, and pace was holding at 7:45-7:50. It was a little hot but I was hydrating well and taking sponges at every aid station. I headed back into town and passed Steve Facchetti almost right at the Econolodge. Kinda funny, everyone was cheering really loud for Steve and I was about 20 yards back. Steve went by, and then someone goes, “Hey, there’s Mike.” That’s okay though, they made up for it by cheering me on the second loop. Getting into town the crowd was amazing! I saw my family again (I think I saw them 7 times during the day) and headed up Mirror Lake Drive. Tim Snow passed me just after the turn around (lapped me actually) and we chatted for a couple of seconds before he turned on the jets again. I told him to save me a beer. I hit the mat at 1:44 and started the second lap.
The second lap was fairly uneventful, and that is a great thing. I ran with a guy named Frank from Team Psycho a good part of the way. I would drop him, then he would pass me as I walked the aid stations. We kept kidding each other about who was going to outkick the other guy at the end. At mile 17 or so, Frank says “Go. I’m toast.” I tell him, “Come on, we gotta finish this thing together now,” but he has already fallen back into the rear view mirror. I’m still feeling good. I get through the turnaround and the ski jumps are getting bigger. Right before mile 22, I do the mental math and calculate I am still on pace for a 3:30 run and only have to maintain 9:00 miles to break 11 hours. Like a curse, right after that I get a side stitch. Nothing terrible, but just enough to change my stride and slow down my pace. The hill before the Horse Show Grounds slows me more and I know I am fading. Now it is just about mental toughness. I get a boost from the Econolodge, then see my kids at mile 23.5. I take my last Clif blok (thank God), kiss my wife and daughter at the corner and head out on the last out and back. I have now lost the ability to perform mental math but know I am cutting 11 hours really close. I hit the turn around and dig deep. I keep thinking about a conversation I had with Rich Conroy a few weeks back where he says “Any Ironman time with a 10 in front is a great time.” I envision finishing in 11:00:05 and think about Rich giving me crap (he really wouldn’t have, but it still motivated me). I start sprinting at the Brewery, hear Tater yelling as I hit Main Street, and enter the Oval. Wow! I have imagined this moment for a year! The crowd is unbelievably loud! I kind of want to savor the moment, but know if I do, I won’t break 11 hours. I see my family and hear Mike Reilly call my name. I cross the line at 10:59:46 (thanks Rich!)
Afterward, I spend 15-20 minutes sitting and recovering, then hook up with my family. I saw Steve Facchetti briefly, and wanted to see the other ‘Nauts finish, but I was starving and my family has had a long day. Back to the hotel, quick shower, then wings, burger, and beer—awesome!
A few special acknowledgements:
-My Family. Thank you for putting up with the training hours and for sharing this day with me. I love you and couldn’t have done it without you! No matter how hard you try to minimize it, IM training takes a toll, and I appreciate the sacrifices you all made. Seeing you guys on the course made me smile every time—no matter how I was feeling.
-The Cyclonauts Cheering. The people in this club never fail to impress me. I don’t think I went 10 minutes in the race without someone either yelling my name or yelling for the jersey. I know I didn’t see or acknowledge everyone, but I think I heard most of you. Thank you all for making the drive up.
-New England Bike. Seth, Brian, and the guys really took great care of me, especially the week before the race tune up. Thanks to a great sponsor!
-Jim Sullivan, Lisa Totz, Jill Herrick, Tom Deluca, Rich Conroy, Bill Terry, and Peter Plourde.
-Jim, who always had the time to pass on his experience and advice. He consistently had the right thing to say to make me confident in my training and my ability. I consider him a good friend, but he gives the same treatment to everyone in the club, regardless of how well he knows them,
-Lisa, thank you for helping with me family before and during the race, and for babysitting me (i.e. picking me up in Keene, driving the course with me, and dropping off my special needs bags). My family and I enjoyed having you around.
-Jill, thank you for spending the better part of an hour sharing your CdA and LP experiences with me. I have always known you are a great athlete, but also see why you are a great coach.
-Tom, thanks for your insights, and for helping me plan the logistics of getting my family to Placid and making it a good experience for them. I’m still disappointed we couldn’t swing that Placid training weekend together.
-Rich, Bill, and Pete. Thanks for being the friends who have been there before. Due to my schedule, I didn’t get to train much with you guys, but you always knew when to call and check on me. I’m lucky to have friends like you guys.
-Paulito and Ochoa. Thanks…………pause. Should I be worried that my wife shot video of you guys and a lot of it doesn’t show your faces?
That’s it. I can’t wait to see Cyclonauts rip this course up in 2012!