Ironman Switzerland 2011

The Beginning

On July 10th, 2011, I took part in my first Ironman. The race prepped bike was ready, the training had ended well, and I flew from London to Zurich feeling fit and excited. Not nervous, just excited.

My race plan was straightforward: survive the swim (goal 1:10), hold back on the bike at 190 watts (goal 5:50), and run a 3:40 marathon starting at 5:00 per kilometer.

At 7am on race morning, all 2,200 of us launched into the aquamarine water of Lake Zurich. I'd positioned myself near the left edge hoping for a clear path, but 250 people had appeared on my left out of nowhere. Instead of being on the edge I was in the middle of a churning blue washing machine.

Swim: 1:08

The swimming was stop-and-start for at least the first 1,000 meters. My goggles kept sliding up my face. Eventually I found my rhythm, only to reach the end of lap one where we had to swim under a bridge, run up a ramp over an island, and get back in the water.

On the second lap I was swimming faster than my group and kept bumping into slower swimmers. I eventually just found someone's feet and took it easy to the end.

The strange thing about swimming: 3.8 kilometers doesn't feel much harder than 1.5. I came out feeling like I'd just done a regular swim session.

Bike: 5:40 at 204 Watts

In the first few minutes, I looked down at my Garmin: 300 watts. Way over plan. It felt like I was putting in no effort, but I needed to stick to the plan so I eased off to 200 watts.

The Zurich roads are fast. I was cruising at 39 km/h, passing groups of riders. I ended up sticking to the middle of the road and accelerating in short bursts past the groups. The eagle-eyed Swiss officials were all over the drafters. I saw plenty of riders in the penalty box at 30km.

At 50km, we hit "the Beast," a 4km climb followed by another 5km hill. I stuck to the plan at 230 watts while a few energetic Germans flew past, stomping on the pedals. The hills were a good opportunity to stretch out and talk to the guys around me.

Then there was Heartbreak Hill, a short climb jam-packed with spectators. Deafening cow bells, horns, whistles, drums, and trumpets. I could feel the emotion welling up inside, but managed to bottle it up and retain my dignity.

By the second lap, many of the stomping climbing heroes were rather tired, and I passed about 80 people on the flat section. My heart rate averaged 140 bpm the entire ride. I felt confident I'd saved enough energy for the run.

Run: 3:30

I set off at 5:00 per kilometer feeling comfortable. Michelle was cheering at the end of the first lap at exactly the right moment. Perfect timing.

At 13km, the sunshine vanished. Bucketing rain. Howling wind. Massive puddles forming everywhere. I slowed down and started getting cold. The thought of running another 30km was pretty grim.

The most difficult part of the run was between 14km and 25km. It was mentally very tough to push through that, and the driving rain didn't help.

I allowed myself to walk through every third water station, but as the race went on I found myself pushing the definition of where a water station ended. One was followed by a short hill, and I managed to convince myself that since there were still cups on the ground going up the hill, I was entitled to walk until the end of it.

At 26km the rain suddenly stopped and the sun came out. I told myself I basically had 10km to go. At 32km I suddenly came right and settled into a faster pace for the last 10km, running all the way through every water station. By the finish I felt like I could easily carry on.

I crossed the line in 11:02. Just missing sub-11, but very happy.

Lessons

It's worth doing more anaerobic swim training just to start fast and miss the chaos. Maybe push harder on the bike. Definitely do more run training. I think I was overconfident there. And it's definitely worth sticking to the pacing strategy.

I'd entered Ironman Coeur d'Alene 2012 with a goal of sub-10. But first, maybe Vineman in three weeks? Tempting.