Ironman Louisville Swim 2018

The days before the race, other athletes would ask how many Ironman’s I’d done. I still don’t know how to quickly answer this without explaining I’ve finished one and had to pull out of another during the bike portion because I crashed my bike 4 days before and tried racing unknowingly with a stress fracture in my pelvic. Doesn’t really roll off the tongue. My go to answer became to avoid a direct answer… “I did this race two years ago.”

I never thought I’d do repeat races, at least until I’d experienced a variety of venues. However, Louisville was the most convenient, worked towards my strengths and was late enough in the season that I thought my body would be ready. There was some comfort in knowing the course.

I know better than to expect certain times for the swim because water conditions can play a big role. I was still curious to see how I’d improved in this area at least compared to rest of the field. There were talks that the swim might be cancelled due to the strong currents. They closed the dam the day before, but it wasn’t enough.

The pros got into the water to warm up and the current was stronger than them. The pulled them out of the water and changed the course to only be downstream. This cut the swim from 2.4 miles to 0.9 miles. I wasn’t thrilled about this, but it didn’t really phase me and I rolled with it. I adjusted my swim plan to “SWIM HARD” the whole time. It was going to be a short warmup to a long day.

Temperatures were in the 40s and it had been raining since I woke up. A theme for the day. By the time I made it to the dock my feet were completely numb. I was excited to get into the water, so I could get some feeling back because the water felt warmer than the cold wet pavement. This was probably the most fun I’ve ever had swimming during a race. It felt like chaos and I felt in control. We were told to stay to the outside of all the buoys. The kayakers made sure we swam around the outside of the first one. Then it was a free for all with swimmers on all sides with kayakers just struggling to keep us in a mostly tight straight line while they were trying not to get carried away by the Ohio river.

I could tell I was swimming FAST. We were all swimming fast, but I was passing a lot of swimmers. I wasn’t expecting this since it was a self-seeded start. Maybe they were swimming easier but I was trying to get warmed up and my body primed for the ride. After what felt like only a couple minutes, we were starting to near the exit ramp. The kayakers started turning us but not early enough. I started pulling hard with my right arm to make sure I didn’t get pushed past the ramp. I heard of other swimmers that missed it and struggled for minutes trying to swim upstream only a few yards. I hopped up the stairs and started my run to T1. This was the happiest I’ve ever been post swim by far. I saw Bill and asked my time. He told me, and I was shocked and laughed. It was an excellent way to start the day. I swam 0.9 miles at a 1:00min/100m pace. This is faster than I can swim an all-out 25m sprint in the pool.

0.9mi Swim – 14:20, 5^th AG

The main concern about the race the days before was debating what to wear on the bike. I probably drove Katie bonkers with indecisiveness. She was kind enough to expediate ship me her aero top to go over my tri top. Standing on the docks I can honestly say I still had not decided what I was going to wear. I had shoved extra layers in my bike bag that morning. At some point while running into T1 I made the decision. Put on all the layers. Needless to say, this wasted extra time trying to put on additional layers while wet and cold. I struggled for probably a solid minute with my tri top rolled up over above my boobs with two volunteers trying to help pull it down. Then the tri top. Then my wind jacket. Gloves plus wool socks. Finally made it out of the tent and to my bike. I stared at my bike for a couple seconds convinced someone had messed with my bottle or maybe this wasn’t my bike. I had put a green bottle on my aero bars and this bottle was blue. Oh yea, it changes colors when it’s cold. Then the awkward hobble/run with my bike to the bike start line while struggling to keep my bike upright. Why can’t I run properly without my bike trying to go every direction and falling over?! Seriously, there is so much room for improvement in T1.

T1 – 10:33

The Countdown

I had a recent post-lunch food-coma deep-thought that I spend way too much of my life counting down to the next “big” thing. I’m currently counting down to my trip to Africa. Up until this past weekend I was counting down to my being the matron of honor in my best friend’s wedding. Before that, the big countdown to race day.  

Ironman. It’s the single date on the calendar triathletes think about the most. It’s a strange concept, to put so much emphasis on one day when you spend so many months of work leading up to it. It’s not like counting down to a nice beach vacation where the only prep is buying enough sunscreen and packing a bag the day before. We often become so focused on a goal or a race outcome, that we put too many happiness eggs in one basket. At times I don’t enjoy the day to day aspects of my life enough. I’m always looking forward to the future.

I signed up for Ironman Louisville before I did the M2M half in the spring. I bought the insurance this time, accepting there was a chance my run would give me issues and I’d have to pull out. I had zero expectation while training. No goals. I didn’t broadcast I signed up for another Ironman but I didn’t hide it. When people asked what I was training for, I told them the truth. People kept asking me, did I have a goal, I time I wanted to beat. Nope. I jokingly said my only goals were to get to the start line in one piece and to cross the finish line. After IMNZ, I knew better than to have any expectations about training and especially about the race. Those truthfully were my goals. My third goal was to be mostly happy during the race.

At the beginning of August, I did Lake Logan International to get at least one more race under my belt. I did this same race training for IM Louisville two years ago. I started the race feeling flat mentally. I spent the beginning of the swim thinking “I don’t want to do this” while forcing myself to push hard. I ended up finding two other women swimming the same pace and I latched on. For the first time EVER I properly drafted and swam with a group. It gave me enough mojo to put a solid effort in for the bike portion. Coach Katie gave me an aggressive power goal on the bike. Because the course was hilly and had a few sections of coasting down big hills, my average power numbers didn’t look very good. I spent the whole ride not knowing if I was going to hit this arbitrary power goal, but I tried my hardest. I knew it was a time PR from two years ago, so I was at least happy going into the run. I rode strong and made sure I only passed women, they never passed me.

Unlike my swim and bike plans, the run plan was to take it a little easier. I was still building my run back up and dealing with a handful of issues. I was in good spirits though and the weather was amazing in the 60s. I ran the first 3 uphill miles exactly to my pace plan. During the downhill second half, I picked up my pace, but my HR and effort were still on the easier side. Given it was a “race” I kind of laughed at my effort but I didn’t care. I was content not running hard and happy to cheer on the women passing me. I did force myself to pick it up the last few minutes. I managed to snag 1^st place AG and a nice PR in swim, bike and run compared to 2 years ago. After reviewing my bike file post-race, I did hit my NP goal. It was a great race and a confidence boost… at least at that moment.

This was my third time training for an IM and probably the most I’ve ever struggled with training. The weather seemed unnaturally brutal. I was training in the 80s and 90s with 90+% humidity literally until race week. The summer weather did not let up. I HATE the heat and humidity with a passion. I cannot count the number of times I’d walk into the house drenched in sweat after training, telling my husband we were moving, leaving a trail of sweat drops from the door to the shower. I’m not meant to live on the east coast. I sweat at least twice as much as all my friends. I cannot stay hydrated in those conditions without drinking to the point where I upset my stomach.

Mentally, I struggled with the heat more than normal. Training was going well until it wasn’t. By August I had enough, and my brain was giving up. The heat won. After Lake Logan, I tripped and fell during a run and hurt my knee and shoulder as a result. That gave me a hard time for a few weeks. My long rides and runs started falling apart. I cut them short or gave up on harder efforts and soft pedaled it home. I sat on the side of the road in a little sliver of shade trying to talk myself out of calling an uber home while Katie gave me a pep talk via texts. I lost my confidence every time one of my training days didn’t go well. Mostly this got to me on the run. I finally had a solid day of training with a long ride and a longer run off the bike but by the end my foot was hurting me so badly I was limping while walking. I had to shut training down for a few days and take it easy rest of the week. This meant I skipped my longest run and after cutting my previous long run short because of other pains I’d been battling. My longest run was only 15 miles because of everything going on.

I told myself all of this was fine. I’d done my first IM with only one long run of 16 miles and I was happy with how I raced. I knew my swim was leaps and bounds ahead from 2 years ago. My bike was in a much better place. I had completed 3 rides in the 100-112 mile range so I had confidence in the distance and my race power. But my doubt about the run lingered. It’s always about the run with me.

Going into race weekend, I was the most detached about the race than I’d ever been before. I knew what my race plan was but I didn’t think much about it beyond that. Part of this was intentional. It’s too easy to get sucked into being nervous or over thinking everything. But I think a part of me lost some of my mojo along the way. Still, I was happy to be racing an Ironman after the long road back from IMNZ.

I left Greenville where it still felt like summer. I literally drove through a tropical storm to Louisville. When I arrived it felt like winter. I spent months complaining about the heat. And ironically, the temperatures in Louisville dropped from the highs in the 80s to the highs in the 50s in a matter of 3 days. Bring it on.