600th blog post is a great story...

Tuesdays is a big training day. Normally two weeks before a race I start to taper, but I decided to taper only a week before this one, so no resting this week.

I was too tired to train this morning, so I knew it was going to be a late night. Tonight was the first time I could feel fall coming. It was warmer when I left for my ride and cool when I got back. I even had to wear a jacket for my run.

When I got back from my ride, I relaxed for about 30 minutes, ate three fudgicles and a lot of french bread. When you do two hour rides, there is no food guilt. It's a beautiful thing.

I was listening to Ken Glah on the Ironman Talk Podcast as I ran. Ken is one of the old school pro's and has done over 60 Ironman races. Now competing as an age grouper he still does 9:30's. He's very insightful and interesting to listen to. He was saying that if he could afford it, he would love to train and race professionally again. He then said something that really resonated with me. He said he "loves training" and that is exactly how I feel, "I love training".

He said you have to "love training more than racing because you only race 1% of the time". My sentiments exactly. He also described that being an Ironman is a lifestyle, not just finishing a race. So true.

I don't want to spend a lot of time writing tonight because I want to share an email sent to me from Mark Rutledge, one of my training buddy's. He just finished Ironman Canada and I emailed him to congratulate him and asked him what happened on the bike? Mark is a sub 11 Ironman racer and his bike was around 7 hours.

He emailed me a race report. I thought it was one of the best race reports I've ever read. It shows the real spirit of an Ironman. I'm not joking when I say "Mark had a wonderful day". Thanks to Mark for helping me with my 600th blog entry. Mark sent me this from his Blackberry, I can't imagine typing all this on a Blackberry. I included a picture of Mark, it was from a wet training ride we had together earlier this year.

Mod Bike - 2:00:24 / 62.83 km / 31.3 kph / 125 avg hr

Mod Run - 1:16:33 / 8.87 miles / 8:37 pace

A fairly long note but if you want to know about my kinda strange day, then have a read.
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What a day! It certainly did not unfold in any way that I had imagined.
My goal this year was to finish under 11 hours. I wasn't looking for my best ever finish based on a few injuries in the last couple months but I thought the sub 11 was do-able.

My swim wasn't great but my goal was still realistic. I felt strong as the bike got underway and was having a good ride until we went through an aid station 30k into the bike (you slow down a bit and volunteers hand you water and gatorade at the side of the road. As I took a bottle from the volunteer, the guy in front of me dropped his and with only one hand on my bars I hit the fallen bottle straight on. I went up and over the bottle but wasn't able to hold the bars straight when my front wheel came back down and I went crashing into the pavement, hitting head, hip, and shoulder. I was a bit dazed but despite what I knew would be a sore hip and shoulder I realized I was ok to continue. It wasn't too long before I was able to regain my focus and concentrate on riding strong and making back some time. That was going well until about 55k when I needed to shift into an easier gear to climb a hill. With a clash of steel and aluminum (a sound I won't soon forget) my back wheel screeched to a halt. The crash had bent the rear derailleur (the thing that shifts the gears on the back wheel) and shifting my gears had sent the derailleur directly into the spokes.
I took a look at the damage and it was not good. The derailleur hanger had snapped off (which meant this was not roadside fix). Argh!!! I told myself that my day was done. At only 55k into the ride I was both frustrated and disappointed.

While coming to grips with my fate for the day I walked back to talk with another cyclist having his own mechanical problems. Turns out he only needed a spare tire, so thinking that my day was done I gave him mine (I figured one of us might as well get back on the road!). After waiting 20-25 minutes for a race vehicle I decided to start walking, so I slung my bike over my shoulder and started onwards. Along the way I helped a woman with her back break - it was jammed against her wheel. Helping two others at least made me feel that my day wasn't a waste.

Soon after starting to walk again I heard Tammy's voice. Anyone that knows Tammy won't be surprised at the first thing that came out of her mouth... "Here, take my bike!". While I'm a bit embarrassed to say that I actually considered taking her up on her offer, I quickly realized that was completely out of the question (and besides, that would have given her some real good ammo when she gives me a hard time about it being "all about me"). Fortunately, the tech support vehicle came by as this conversation was going on. A bit of luck was on my side as Ian was one of the more creative mechanics on the course and quickly offered the option of turning my bike into a single speed. Thrilled at the chance to continue the race I jumped at his offer. Tammy got back on her way (what a soulmate I have!) as Ian stripped off my derailleur, replaced and shortened the chain, and set me up in the one gear that I would ride for the next 125 kilometers. Ian seemed to get a good kick out of the prospect of me riding the toughest two thirds of the course in one gear. That meant two mountain passes and at least 8 other sizable rollers (which are almost ski hills by Ontario standards). I was excited by the challenge. I chose a 39-15 gearing. That meant it would be a grind going uphill and I would only be coasting on the downhills, but I would be riding!
And so I was off. I got a few kilometers under my belt before Richter pass was about to start and...a flat tire. All I could do was laugh. And to make it worse I had given away my spare to the other racer. Hmmm.

Fortunately Ian was just coming by again. He swapped my back wheel with a spare one that he was carrying in the vehicle. So I was soon back on my way. The climbs didn't seem that bad, and I was able to hold a cadence of around 105 on the flats. Having reset my goals for the day, I let myself have some fun for the rest of the ride, chatting with the supporters lining the course and thanking the volunteers. I finished the bike with a big smile knowing I had a great story to tell.

I took my time in transition knowing this race result would not be measured by a clock.
My legs had only stopped moving for a couple of minutes, but as soon as I stood up to leave the change tent I knew I was in for a challenging run. My hip bone felt two sizes too large. Ouch. I told myself to get moving before I came to any conclusions. It loosened up and I was able to run. I actually ran the whole first half of the marathon (save walking thru the aid stations to take on nutrition on a very hot day). My pace wasn't fast but I knew I needed to keep moving if I was going to finish. Soon after the half way point the hip started to hurt quite a bit more. I could no longer run the downhill sections because the pounding from running downhill hurt too much. Those that have done an endurance event will know that once you start walking...things get very slow very quickly. The physical challenge of the day along with the pain of the hip sent me to a walking pace for a number of miles. Any effort to start running was met with some serious push back from my hip. But one thing was clear. I would cross that finish line no matter what it took. My attitude had carried me this far and it was nowhere close to throwing in the towel. I walked and occasionally shuffled along until mile 22 when I saw Jonathan. I learned that Tammy's recent breathing problems combined with the forest fire smoke had forced her to make the right decision to call it a day at Yellow Lake. I was proud that she had decided to even start the race and glad to know that she had made the right decision. Jom lifted my spirits as we walked and I mustered the determination to run (ok, shuffle) the last three miles. I saw Tammy on the out-and-back before the finish line. Her eyes said volumes. We shared a quick hug and a kiss. I finished off the last two kilometers and crossed the finish line with a smile on my face and a real sense of accomplishment in my heart. Today I met the challenges that were thrown at me with a positive attitude, a boatload of conviction, and some great support from the special people in my life. From the moment I heard the words, "well I can set you up with a single speed" I knew that I would get myself across the line. My slowest race by far, but quite possibly the race with the biggest sense of satisfaction.
And now a bit of recovery!
Mark

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