Race Reports
Prologue
We left North Carolina at 7:20 am Wednesday morning. A friend, who
completed Ironman USA 2000, had loaned me his Yakima RocketBox to
go on top of our Blazer with my bike. I managed to get all my gear
into the box, leaving the back of the Blazer for my family's
luggage. We drove through South Carolina (almost getting a speeding
ticket in Society Hill in a thick pea-soup fog, but getting off with
only a warning), Georgia, and Florida, before reaching Clermont
around 6:15 PM. We checked into the Vacation Village and went into
town for the athlete reception.
Thursday I dropped my wife and two kids off at Disney's Magic
Kingdom, finding that much easier than I had envisioned. On the way
back, I stopped at Summer Bay to register, pick up my race packet,
and buy a couple of last-minute items at the expo. That afternoon,
back at Vacation Village, I had a brief brick workout of about 20
minutes of each sport, swimming in the pool, then riding around Lake
Louise Road, then running down by the lakeshore in the hard sand.
(Lake Louise was much lower than Lake Minneola.)
I went back to Disney to pick up the family at 5:00 PM, and we headed
back to Summer Bay for the pasta dinner. That night we packed all my
bags for check-in with the bike. That was mind-boggling enough,
packing and repacking to try and make sure everything was in the right
place. Friday, I dropped my family off at MGM Studios. The traffic on 1
92 was much worse on Friday, taking me a lot longer than on Thursday to
get there and back. I met a friend at the Waterfront Park for check-in.
We rode out to "Cardiac" Hill and back just to get a quick
preview of the bike and run courses, then checked our gear in. After
returning to pick up my family at 5:00 PM, we went to IHOP for my pre-race
meal: an egg & vegetable omelet, with three pancakes, a bunch of water,
and apple juice. While there we spotted another GFT athlete who happened
to be #371; I was #317. We had a great conversation, and both families
cheered for each of us the next day!
After making final preparations, we tried to hit the sack at 8:00 PM. I
lay awake for awhile, my heart pounding in anticipation of the big race.
I eventually fell asleep, only to awaken at 12:00 midnight, went back to
sleep until 2, then finally got up at 4. My pre-race meal consisted of
two packets of Met-Rx Oatmeal with fruit, and lots of water.
I have to admit, upon arriving at the lake, that I got very confused,
having all my gear in six different bags, and trying to make sure I had
everything where I needed it during the race! Now that I know how to do
that, I think I could greatly reduce my transition times next year. The
worst moment in the pre-dawn darkness shrouding the lakefront was that
telltale "boom" that went off just before the swim start,
followed by the collective groans of over a thousand people, wondering
how they would find their bike tires after the swim!
Swim
After warming up in the lake, we were all called back to shore before
the National Anthem, releasing of the doves, and the gun start. I don't
enjoy crowds in the swim, so I started off the front inside. This
worked pretty well once we all got going into our own rhythms. I was
amazed at the number of athletes cutting the buoys on the inside, then
trying to get back in front of those of us in the mainstream. When I
exited the first lap, I looked at my heart rate monitor, and realized
that I had not gotten the stopwatch started, I started it for the
second lap, I was looking for the PowerBar Perform Plus drink, but I
ended up getting a cup of water instead. I was one of the ones who
didn't figure out we were supposed to run down the beach before
beginning lap two. I ran right back into the water, running my heart
rate up to about 165, before I finally dove into the two-foot deep
water to begin swimming again. I actually had more contact with other
swimmers on the second lap, but thankfully nothing major. I just have
to have my elbow room, but I avoid contact at all costs. I really hate
getting charley-horsed by a strong, wide, breastroke kick!
I wore the Seal Mask, which worked fairly well, although it leaked a
little bit on the last lap. It also looked pretty ridiculous on me in
my wife's pictures. I wear contact lenses, so I have to have a tight
fit. As I exited the swim, I saw my wife and heard my kids cheering me
on, and I looked back at the clock, which said, :58:25. This made me
ecstatic and gave me a lot of confidence throughout the entire day.
Rick had me shooting for 1:01. I'm glad I didn't know at the time the
swim was short. Now, I don't mind one bit!
Bike
Running up into the transition area, I heard the volunteers, who did a
fantastic job all day long, calling out our numbers to get our bike
bags. Grabbing mine and going into the tent, I felt like a kid on
Christmas morning emptying out my stocking. My heart and mind were
racing, and I just couldn't think of what to do or get. I ended up
taking an inordinate amount of time on both transitions, which looks
really ridiculous on my results: 10:20-T1 and 7:47-T2. Now I know how
not to waste that much time in there again!
The first part of the bike was great. I didn't have any problem with
any of the hills, coming from North Carolina. When I summitted
Sugarloaf, I had to ask one of the guys near me if that was really it.
The Final Kick guys were great up there, blasting "The Boss"
singing "Born to Run," while beating pots and pans a'la the T
our de France. It was very motivational. On the return trip to town, I
stopped for my first Port-a-Let break next to the school on the first
run aid station. There was no one else there. My family was at the
35-mile point on East St. cheering me on. The remainder of the bike was
easy...going out. Coming back, the headwinds were taking their toll on
my calves.
I had some almost-cramping there. At the special needs area I lowered
my seat a little. I later figured out I probably should have raised it
a little, because they continued to hurt.
At one aid station, I thought for sure I was going to be disqualified.
The head USAT official and his motorcycle driver were pulled over g
etting some bananas and water. There were a lot of other cyclists
slowing on the right for bottles. I didn't need any there, so I passed
them all, crossing right over the yellow line! I guess that was one of
the "exceptions to the rule," because I have no asterisks**
next to my time. Then, around mile 95, I heard a hissing sound, and in
the wind and leaves, figured one had gotten stuck in my spokes. Looking
down, I saw that my rear tire was flat. I changed it with no problems,
while just about everyone I had already passed on the bike wizzed past
me. It did take about 10 or 15 minutes off my time, though. My CO2
cartridge overinflated the tire a little, forming a little bubble,
which made my tire bump once we got to a smooth surface. I rode those
last 17 miles as fast as I could, hoping to get back to town before I
had to mess with that tire again. Luckily, it held up. Reaching the
transition area, I was never more ready to (a) get off my bike and out
of my bike shoes; and (b) start running a marathon! The bike time
elapsed on my computer was 6:14.00. My total bike time, with the rear
flat, restroom stops, and special needs stop, was 6:39.15.
Run
After spending way too much time in the changing tent again, I was
ready to run. I didn't even change for the whole race. I wore a new
Sportful suit from Nashbar. I knew about the five miles of hills,
so I was prepared for them. I kept running the whole time. By the
time I returned to the lake trail, I knew I was going to finish.
During my last marathon, the 1997 Marine Corps Marathon, I had a
stress fracture in my left ankle. I also suffer from Plantar
Fasciitis. It's manageable, but takes a lot of managing. So I was
the one running in the grass as much as possible, trying to make sure
that neither of those potential problems caused me a DNF.
I enjoyed the view of the lake, the sunset, the cooling temperature,
the variety of aid stations, and the camaraderie on the run. My
favorite part was running across the ChampionChip mats three times,
beaming across the entire worldwide web that I was going to be an
Ironman!
Turning right to head towards the finish line, I could see the search
lights and hear the crowds. As I approached the carpet, my daughter
Kathleen, 14, and son Steven, 12, merged into the chute with me to
run under the banner while my wife filmed and took pictures. What a
great feeling!
My run time was 4:38.34. My finishing time was 12:40.14. I got my
medal, finisher's shirt, posed for pictures with my kids, and then
got a piece of pizza and a bottle of water. Then I called my parents.
I signed up for a massage, which was going to be at least an hour
wait. We went back down to the lake to get my bike gear packed up
and taken to the car.
Watching all the runners still going around the lake really had a
compelling effect on me: there were still a lot of athletes out on
the course. We shouted encouragement to as many of them as we could.
Returning to the finish area, I was starting to get chilly, but my
heart was still racing. It was time for the massage, though, which
warmed me up, while calming my heartrate down. The volunteers there
were also great. When we got back to Vacation Village, my stomach
was still in shock and a little queasy. I had two protein-fruit-peanut
butter shakes, which really settled my digestive system. Then some
packing, a long, hot shower, and to bed! We had to leave early Sunday
morning!
Epilogue
Looking back, the past 10 months of training for the GFT X have been
the most focused period of my life. I truly enjoyed the whole day.
But while I had fun, I also had to reach deep within myself for the
motivation necessary to keep on going through the difficult spots.
As Mitch Thrower says in "Ironfever" (Triathlete, October
2000, p.16) "Once you decide to do an Ironman, everything you
eat, everything you do, all the hours that you sleep, all suddenly
become hyper-important. You begin to pay close attention to how you
spend your time...In training for an Ironman you'll find out what
is important to you. In racing an Ironman, you'll build your
self-confidence to an unimagined level...For months after an
Ironman, the glow of the event will sparkle in athletes' and
spectators' eyes ...Becoming an Ironman is like putting an
invisible self-confidence charm in your pocket. Whatever you do for
the rest of your life that may seem difficult, you can pull out that
charm and know that you can make it through anything." I
definitely plan on repeating the Ironman experience... hopefully,
the same time next year at GFT XI!
Bernie Hall, 43 - #317 Asheboro, North Carolina