Ironman France, Nice – 26.06.11
My final week leading into IMFR happens to mark my 51st week with Dinamic
Coaching…so as a one year anniversary gift…an Ironman race report.
The final few weeks leading to IMFR were full of mixed emotions. My swimming
both in the pool and wearing a wetsuit made me doubt my ability to hit that sub 60
target. My cycling was questionable after the recent injury I picked up at the Tour of
Wessex. Also, my not-so-faithful SRAM S60 rear wheel was not playing ball…new
bearings, several bike mechanic hours to true it, realign it, and start over again,
created a massive potential for a serious technical problem during the ride. At least
my running, though I haven’t gone further than 11m since February, is relatively
pain and problem free.
My last worry was my nutrition plan which changed drastically in the final two
weeks: I’d always planned on using a mix of energy drinks, bars, gels and water to
balance my electrolytes, carbs and fluid intake. Recent advice suggested I stick with
only water, gels and bars, avoiding energy drink entirely to prevent overdosing my
stomach on energy consumables, and hopefully avoiding digestive issues which are
all too common during the final leg of an Ironman.
The 03:30 alarm that had been approaching for the past year finally rang, 26th of June
2011, my first attempt at an Ironman distance triathlon. And what better way to start
the day than with an espresso and a bowl of muesli! With my track pump in hand,
and my wetsuit in a bag, I made my way to transition at 5AM with Alex and our
support crew of other halves. Pre-race nerves kept away surprisingly well as I gave
my bike a last once-over and got my water bottles and bento box onboard.
With race start only 30mins away, Alex and I started to battle the masses of athletes to
make it to the waterfront in time for a quick warm up…and this is where IM
experience instantly made a difference. While Alex came out the water in front of our
time group of sub 1h02 and pushed in two rows, I went around the back and couldn’t
force myself through to the front – stood about 10 rows behind the front. MASSIVE
MISTAKE NO.1. After the epic 15min wait of doing absolutely nothing, the horn
finally went, and bodies started moving forwards. I hit the water, and attempted to
take a first stroke, then a second, and repeatedly, all unsuccessfully. There were
neoprene clad triathletes absolutely everywhere! Couple of whacks over the head
upset the comfort of my swim cap. The groping arms from behind nearly ripped my
timing chip off. I couldn’t move forwards, I just had to keep my calm and wait for a
gap to swim through. This eventually happened after the 300m buoy…only 7 or
8mins wasted, what a start.
After the 1km buoy, swimmers really started spreading out, giving each other more
room. I constantly swam on the outside of the pack, ensuring clear water and minimal
contact. I was all too aware of my chip barely hanging on!! My hat was also
becoming a nuisance, so I chose to take it off and stuff it down my collar with
intention to pull it back on when I hit the beach for the 1.5m mark.
I hit this mark in 41:37…far too slow – time to seriously make amends. The last
0.9m was much smoother, no other swimmer close by and I just extended my stroke
to economise on energy levels. Something strange happened as well, though I usually
breathe every three strokes and sometimes reduce that to two during hard efforts, I
was breathing every four or five strokes!
Swim - 1:02:57 - http://connect.garmin.com/activity/95630026
Coming out of the water onto the harsh pebbled beach, I was instantly aware of the
crowds above on the promenade cheering every competitor on. I ran through the
showers, dodging idlers that seemed to want to have a proper wash down! Up the
ramp, around the corner…lets get racing!
T1 was 100% according to plan. Even got some help from a volunteer to stuff my
wetsuit into my bike bag and chuck it at the right person! The run to my bike was
pretty epic though, but for once managed to keep my feet uncut and clean of pebbles
before jumping onto the saddle.
T1 – 00:04:56 - http://connect.garmin.com/activity/95630031
The first 6m along the waterfront were perfect to get the legs going and wash away
the sea salt on my lips. I totally ignored the riders around me, determined to race my
own race, and not get drawn into a head-to-head. As we moved closer and closer to
the first climb, I couldn’t help but worry about the dozens of riders surrounding
me…a 500m 12% incline covered in TT and road bikes alike would surely see plenty
of guys hit the deck?! Surprisingly, it was only shortly afterwards along a flat section
that two guys on ridiculously expensive bikes touched bars, and sent each other down.
From 12.5m to 25m, I just tried to keep my HR around the 145 mark, holding back
for the rest of the race. Can’t say I was very successful in this, rarely went below
150! So many riders just came flying past there was no ignoring them – they drew me
into a faster pace and I couldn’t hold back. The first descent was a relief to all after
10m of continuous climbing at small gradients. But shortly to ensue was the Everest
of the ride, a 13m climb from 209m AOD to 1077m AOD. Damage limitation was
the target here…and 9m in, I suddenly had a massive worry. The knee pain I’d
picked up after climbing Devon’s many hills a few weeks ago was back…as was the
guy on a Look bike who caused a crash at the Tour of Wessex the very same
weekend. We exchanged a few courteous words before I left him behind –
satisfyingly, he was wearing Team GB kit!
I got to the summit with a massive sense of gratitude…time to spin out the legs and
make sure I could keep the knee pain at bay for the rest of the ride. At the 53m
mark, we hit our first real descent. I can’t say I did anything impressive down this, as
I couldn’t figure out if the roads were actually closed for our use or not…the
occasional sight of a car suggested otherwise – so I decided to play it safe. I was
ahead of my target speed by this time anyways (19mph), and with the biggest climb
behind me, I just had to try to hold or improve on my average.
By the time I went through 62.5m, I was starting to get pretty fed up of my
Powerbars and gels. Every 60mins I was eating a bar, gel, and Clif Shot Blok, each at
20min intervals. After the best part of four hours…I was craving a burger, pizza, just
anything that wasn’t sweet. The thought of running a marathon fuelled on only gels
and water put my feet firmly back on the ground, it would be a while yet till I get
some real food down me.
The final descent started at 76m, and this is where I made some serious time. I just
felt good through the hairpins and out the saddle out of each turn. I attacked like a bit
of a looney bin, now convinced that I would not meet any oncoming traffic out of the
corners. One by one, I picked off other riders, making that Lion bar for a sub 5h30
ride from Chris a real possibility! For anyone ever considering an Ironman, the entry
fee is worth paying for this descent on closed roads! I genuinely had an amazing
time, and may well consider returning yearly for it alone!
The last 12m of mostly flat riding, I eased off massively. Although I wanted that
Lion bar, I knew that a time trial effort to finish off the ride could actually result in a
dreaded DNF on the marathon – I had to get my HR under control. The ride back into
transition got seriously busy again, and I found myself in a pack of riders, each one of
us under threat of disqualification if we didn’t maintain gaps for the non-drafting rule.
With marshalls a regular sight, and supporters both sides of the road witnessing our
offenses, I decided to let the pack get past me, and spin the lactate out of my legs.
It was a bit of a shock to the system to see so many people lining the sides of the
roads after a largely solitary ride. Though there were IM supporters and also local
villagers at key points during the ride, the overall number of volunteers manning the
aid stations probably outnumbered them! Massive kudos to the Gendarmes though,
who blocked off every junction in full outfit over 112m, they must have been
melting!
Bike – 05:31:58 - http://connect.garmin.com/activity/95437254
T2 provided the competitors with another epic barefoot run between dismounting and
handing bikes to volunteers all the way to picking up our run bags. The first thing I
noticed in T2 was the lack of bikes in transition…I think I may have been a bit quick
on the bike! Get in!! I swiftly slipped on my running shoes and got my hat on, ready
to attack the marathon. This is where MASSIVE MISTAKE NUMBER 2 came along –
sunscreen. The bottle was there in my bag, and the volunteers were at hand ready to
lather willing athletes with handfuls of sunscreen, but I bypassed it all in my
eagerness to go for a run! Oops…
T2 – 00:04:07 - http://connect.garmin.com/activity/95630042
I set off on the run at a reasonable pace, just over 8mpm, feeling good, and as
planned, held back my pace for the first few miles. Initially, I was elated to be
into the last section of the race, just 26.2m of running away from the finish line! But
it was a bit surreal running onto what appeared to be a deserted run course! Turns out
I was 216th onto the run course out of 2589 competitors on the start line! That would
explain things I guess.
I stuck to my plan throughout the entire run, walking through every aid station
dousing my head in water, and knocking back a few cups too. All offers of fresh fruit,
salted crackers and Coke were turned down as I continued with my gel every 20mins
as planned, but soon realised something was going wrong. My stomach was gurgling
away, threatening to cause unpleasantries in some form or another. Surely the two
Imodiums before the race start were working? Hmmm…I suppose an extra Imodium
would probably tie me over for the rest of this marathon…pop a pill and keep
running. MASSIVE MISTAKE NO.3. Imodium stops things going down, effectively
constipating you. If indeed you need this sort of help, it’s definitely valid. However,
if you don’t need to block things up, I seriously wouldn’t recommend it! My stomach
was full of water, gels, and energy bars, sloshing away wanting to go somewhere, but
to no avail. Laps 2 and 3 both involved toilet breaks in failed attempts to force my
digestive system back to normality. I had to resort to a back up plan of reducing
intake of gels and water, in the hope that my body had enough fuel to keep going.
On every lap, I saw my parents, Chris and Annie taking photos and shouting words of
support. To top off the personal relationships with my support crew, random
strangers were shouting encouragingly too. Our race numbers also had our first
names printed on them, and Christophe being (apparently) the most common name in
French history, was very commonly heard on the run course!
The Ironman organisers kindly thought to provide cooling off showers just before
every aid stations, giving competitors a chance to drench themselves in cool water.
The first time I saw these, I rejoiced at the thought of lowering my body
temperature…but coming out the other side of the showers, I instantly realised the
downfall of their ingenuity: wet shoes. As I tried to ignore the quelching of my
sodden Brooks running shoes, I started worrying about that burning sensation on my
shoulders. Pain is temporary, failure is forever – ignore the sunburn, it won’t kill you!
My legs started hurting as I made my way towards the fourth 6.5m lap. I picked up
my third and final wrist band, swung around the timing mat one last time, and my
eyes welled up as I saw my parents. I shouted at them “encore un, je vous vois dans
une heure a la ligne d’arrivee!”. Then 100m down the road, I once more saw Chris
and Annie...and in much the same vein, I shouted “one more, see you in an hour!”
But things quickly threatened to fall apart. My quads started cramping up. A minute
or so of walking eased off my legs, allowing me to pick up the pace again. I knew I
could sacrifice a few moments of walking as I’d held about 8.48/m pace for 21m,
turning over every 6.5m lap in under an hour.
I binned the final gel I was supposed to take, ignored aid stations in the final 3m, and
made a beeline for the finish. I marginally picked up the pace, but most importantly,
just kept turning over my legs. I saw Chris and Annie just a few hundred metres from
the line, at which point they both gave me a high five, and Annie started running
alongside behind the spectator barriers. I came into the finishing chute with no one in
front of me, just another 100m to get through until my medal. The announcer shouted
my name, the crowds cheered, and as I crossed the finish line, the words: “You are an
Ironman” were loud and clear in the air.
Run – 03:53:52 - http://connect.garmin.com/activity/95630048
Total – 10:37:30 – 214th overall – 20th in M25-29 Age Group
So in nearly 11 hours of racing, I can’t really say very much went wrong. My knee
held up during the cycle, though did threaten to be a total show stopper. My other
knee held up during the run, suggesting that this injury is genuinely a thing of the
past. My Achilles didn’t really act up at all…once again, maybe behind me. So on
the injury front…no real excitement.
Having read countless race reports, I have become very familiar with the gutsy issues
that plague competitors in all sorts of endurance events such as Ironman. Although I
did encounter some sort of stomach troubles, I only really lost a few minutes to try to
sort them out…but then gritted my teeth to run with them. Half an hour in the
medical tent at the end of the race under the care and attention of a lovely nurse put
me right though!
And lastly, the wheels stayed on my bike.
So in fairness, this report has every right to be slightly on the boring side. I must
however apologise for this, because if my English were of a greater standard, I could
more accurately portray the immensity of crossing an Ironman finish line. For a year,
I have been getting up at all hours to train before getting to work at 07:30. Some
turbo sessions have literally brought be to the brink of tears. Other tempo running
sessions have had me on the verge of collapse, all in the fear that I mightn’t be ready
in time. And finally, my last tempo session in February had me on my knees,
contemplating withdrawal from IMFR. The ensuing injuries twisted the knife in the
wound, further putting into question the viability of attempting this race. But with the
help of Diana and Neil at Dinamic Coaching, Ben Barker at Total Health, and Chris
and Alex who were also plagued with injuries this year, everything came together on
race day. There are plenty more people who are due thanks for their help and support,
you know who you are.
This is my first Ironman medal of many…I hope to have your continued support in
the future, and maybe to have enticed some of you to attempt more tame versions of a
triathlon.
Christophe Demoulin. Distance. Time. Average Speed/Pace. Overall Position. Category Position.
Swim 2.4m 1:02:57 1:39/100m 365 44
T1 4:56 384 33
Cycle 112m 5:31:38 32.57kmh 243 17
T2 4:07 292 21
Run 26.2m 3:53:52 5:32/km 368 39
Finish 10:37:30 214 20
