On paper, Ironman (“IM”) Copenhagen was my ideal race for my second IM; cold lagoon swim, rolling hills and a mostly false flat run. In the months leading up to the race Earl (Walton) prepared me for dealing with every possible scenario so I’d be certain to have a good day. I was calm, confident and ready to execute the plan. We all know that sometimes paper does not live up to reality, and while I had a great race in many respects, it wasn’t my day after all. However, I can definitely chalk this one up to a strong mind and will over a failing body. So here is my take on KMD IM Copenhagen.
To those wanting the A-D-D version, as in my previous reports: sorry, it isn’t happening. Guess you will need to read on if you want to know all about my 180k journey from Amager Strandpark Beach to The Castle in downtown Copenhagen. But I will summarize some of the pre-race stuff (shorten, not spare).
Pre-Race: A Mermaid, Some Bike…and many, many bikes
If Copenhagen is not called the land of bikes, it should be. Marybeth “MB” Moore (racing her first IM) and I arrived a few days early to acclimate to the time change, climate and surroundings. Getting from the hotel to the airport was a breeze, but unfortunately our room was not ready so we opted for some sightseeing. Making the mistake of taking a cab downtown, we got suckered into a cab downtown ($30 in Danish KR), then walked around the city to get a feel for the streets. We tried to figure out where T2 was (the race was point-to-point), where we would be running, and, of course, the finish line.
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| Bikes, Bikes everywhere |
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| Yes they were good! |
The next few days (Wed, Thurs and Fri) were a mix of some sightseeing (more bikes), testing the waters literally, shakeout rides/runs, and pre-race mania (registration, packing bike and run clothing, etc.). We also were very careful not to overindulge on Danish treats (well maybe except for one day when we stumbled upon a place called the Donut Shop (see photo above; yes that’s real). Mom and Ruth arrived on Friday, along with one of Mom’s oldest friends, Gloria (whom I had not seen in at least 15 years); together these three were my race posse.The Main Event: Race Day
It has been nearly 8 years since my first race and 2 years since IM CdA. While not a pro by any stretch, I am what Earl calls a “veteran” who knows the drill and really does not freak out before the cannon goes off (even during an IM).
Race morning was pretty calm. MB went down for breakfast in the hotel while I opted to eat what I packed and was approved by Nicci Schock’s (Elevate by Nicci) metabolic efficiency plan. (For those who don’t know, I followed a metabolic efficient plan this year and it really helped with energy, weight loss, and overall race nutrition.) We got to swim start and went our separate ways (MB and I would not be reunited until post-race). Making sure Malibu Too was ready, I knew where my clothing bag was, placed post-race clothing in the drop-off area and started to prepare myself mentally.
IM Copenhagen uses mixed-sex age group seeding (at least this year), but the old folks (me) started at 7:50 as opposed to MB (7:10) and the elite sub-10-hour folks (7:05). A but unfair in my book as instead of having a full 16 hours to complete the race, I only had 15:10.
I did not see the posse before the swim start, but since they were situated in VIP (thanks to John Duke at WTC), I did not worry about them.
Swim: Acting like Shakira
Earl and I discussed not wearing a watch at all (except during the run) as I did not want to get stuck on time; after all, breaking the finish line tape or landing a Kona spot was not in my game plan. I seeded myself in the second row of my age group (again men and women together; which is unusual), knowing that my swim is solid but a sub-1-hour was not going o happen (figure let the faster kids duke it out in the beginning). My swim is usually stronger in colder water and doing a few practice swims earlier in the week, I opted for a sleeveless wet suit;—a good decision for me, but it made me stand out among a sea of those in full sleeves and even some in neoprene caps.
7:50 AM…let the games begin. The gun fires and we jump into the water. The one-loop, 2.4 mile (3.8k) swim course took us under three bridges on the way out and four on the way back to shore. Didn’t understand why exactly, but “Happy” by Pharrell popped into my head. This would become my mantra for most of the race, while repeating “hips” and “glide” (key words to focus on and help me stay streamlined during the swim). Between Pharrell and finding bubbles (from others) to help with sighting, I started to pass people early on. And due to the windy conditions (and hence waves), I found myself sighting out of the water, both to stay on course and to find a new group to draft off of. Feeling relaxed, I kept singing and speaking to myself, trying not to swallow too much brackish water (would give myself a 50% success rate on that).
Midway through the swim, I started to pass even people in the 7:40am wave…and then 7:30am wave, thinking these were the stragglers or those who were going to swim 2:00. I thought nothing of my position or overall time and continued to swim, sing, and focus on my stroke. Without even realizing it, I was at the final turnaround and heading back home and hearing the roar of the crowds cheering from the bridges above us.
Sighting off the VIP tent and the swim exit arch, I passed even more folks in the earlier waves and hooked onto a group of red caps (my color) and swam to shore. Suddenly I got caught up between two slower swimmers and could not push through them despite several attempts. Breaking free, I got kicked pretty hard in the head; enough to make me check that I wasn’t bleeding or anything. Good to go, I get back into a rhythm and swim to shore. At the exit, without a clue as to my time, I grab the hand of a volunteer to help stabilize me on the exit ramp and trot over the timing mat…onto T1.
I grabbed my bike bag from the hook. (For those unfamiliar with Ironman/Long Course, you do not have a transition area for keeping your shoes, shorts, helmet et al. Everything you need for the bike and also for the run is placed in a bag and left at T1 the day before the race.) I then trotted into the changing tent. Unlike IM CdA, there are no volunteers around to help you. So I got out of the wet suit, tried to dry off quickly and put on my bib shorts and top as fast as possible, and then re-packed everything. Holding on my helmet, shoes in my hand, I head for the exit only to be stopped by a volunteer who says I cannot leave until the helmet and shoes are on my body. (Vow for 2016 racing: learn how to get onto the bike with shoes already clipped in.) Once everything is on me and bag is re-tied I trot to the bin, drop bag, and head to Malibu Too.
And now for the Wind…for 180K
The weather leading up to the race called for winds, but coming from the southeast which would have created a strong tailwind and made the course that much faster. But alas, the wind shifted in the days leading up to race day, and by Sunday it was now coming from the north and creating headwinds as fast as 20 MPH (yes, not great). This little wrinkle changed my ideal bike course into a challenge, as wind sucks me dry. (At least it wasn’t hot and windy like it was in Puerto Rico, NoLa, and even Mallorca.) The northeast winds made the course feel like a climb instead of rollers. You can never predict what’s going to happen in an Ironman, so I just needed to roll with the punches…and get punched a lot over and over again.
Getting onto the bike and out of T1 was pretty cool as we started out riding over one of the bridges we had swum under. The area was filled with cheering spectators, and that boost helped to get me started on the journey. The first 15k of the bike was pretty technical as we headed out of the city and into the countryside. While my biking has improved this past year, I have no plans to join the “tour” anytime soon. I set my Garmin to show cadence (~ 85), power (b/w 145-150 with a max at 180 only as needed), heart rate (~ 150) and total distance (one mile at a time) to focus on my numbers and not get bogged down in overall time.
Earl had specifically told me not to drink anything for at least ten minutes, and my nutrition plan had my first dose of UCann at :45 mins into the ride. Without a clock to go by, I was estimating the overall time by mile splits (we opted not to change the system from miles to Ks to keep with my training) and ate/drank accordingly.
The bike course is spectacular, with two loops around the coast, farmland, small villages, and a highway section (where the famed Geels Bakke is located) before heading back into the city. It had a mix of paved roads which were in pretty good condition as well as cobblestones, which were a little nerve-wracking; I hoped that my tires would hold up. The course was well marked and well supported with plenty of aid stations and small groups of spectators cheering us along.
Once we hit the coast, the winds picked up even more and I did my best to tuck in (staying aero) and keep my numbers. Despite being only about ~20k, this section felt like the longest as the winds were relentless. I pedaled on and started to sing “Happy” again (still not sure why this song was in my head, but whatever it takes to get through 112 miles). Finally, after making a left, we headed into the farmland, which indeed felt like 9W. (For those not in the NYC/NJ area this is basically where we train. Since I had done my 100-miler as well as my metric IM training on this stretch, the rolling hills were not too bad.) I was still waiting for the promised fast, flat areas of the course, with the wind dying out a tad (maybe to 8-10 MPH). Winding our way past beautiful turn-of-the-century homes with amazing vistas, I just wanted to jump off the bike and take pictures. But no camera meant I had to continue to pedal.
I assumed that I had had a decent swim as I was passed by a handful of people who looked “younger” than me. However, being in one of the last waves still meant that there were few fellow competitors in my “section,” and many passed me as I continued to struggle through the wind. Once past the farmland area, we made a left onto a stretch of highway (closed to traffic) which, you guessed it, brought some more wind. This was probably one of the most boring areas of the course, but I knew that Geels Bakke was approaching.
I had heard different things about this climb — one person said that it was short but steep, one that said it wasn’t too bad, and others said it was nothing. The pictures from prior years made me think it was going to be a nightmare. To get to the climb, we faced other hills which were hard (maybe because of the wind) so when I finally saw the famous one I braced myself for some pain.
Over my triathlon “career” I have never seen a crowd like the one that was at this area. Both sides of the road were lined with spectators, and everyone was offering a cheer or a high five (for which I gladly obliged). Perhaps it was the crowd support or the fact that I rode many steep hills during my training, but the incline never felt that tough and was over before I remembered.
This section is where we had the opportunity to grab our special needs bag which I did. It was also where I suggested that the posse situate themselves—both to see them and in case I needed anything. (The race allows spectators to hand racers items in a specific spot on the hill.) However, I could not find them. (I later heard that the directions in the official spectator guide were wrong and they got lost) Oh well. I exchanged my nutrition bottle, took a swig of Coca-Cola, stretched out a bit and jumped back on the bike for lap two. Immediately after the climb, we had to ride through about 5 blocks of pure cobblestones. Never having biked over these before, I was unsure how to handle them so got onto an easier gear and just braced myself for some bumps. Approaching another turnaround, I caught sign that slits the race either back to T2 (right) or onto lap (left) two; onward I go.
Lap two brought more of the same, especially the wind, but this time the field of bikers was thinner than before with only a handful of us still on the course (or so I thought). Passing a few people who looked like they pushed too hard on the first loop gave me some relief as I knew I would not be the last one into T2. While I wish I could say the second loop was easier, it was not as my back started to twitch and I could not stay in area for long periods of time.
Side note: Earlier in the year my L2 and L3 (in my lower back) slipped a little creating a huge issue for training and basically everyday life. As a result, I worked with a neurologist (who told me it wasn’t a good idea to run at all), a chiropractor (David Williams, the best) who gave me exercises to strengthen my back, and a physical therapist (Andy Feneck) to help with mobility. Andy is the person I credit with keeping me injury free this year.
The wind did not wane either — despite forecasts that said the wind would shift directions around this time. I nearly screamed “uncle” to the wind — as if that would actually do something. This is around the time when the war between my mind and my body started — something that would continue at the latter stages of the run.
Despite a few dark moments of self-doubt, I pushed on through the winds and back onto the farmland, the highway and Geels Bakke (again). However by this time the crowds were thinner, as the bulk of the racers had passed and were likely on the run. However, I finally saw Mom and Gloria on the side of the road waiting for me to pass. I quickly pulled over to give them a status report and hope to hand them my wind vest. When I tried to hand it to the, an official said I could not or I would be DQd — oh well. I had ~ 20k to go. I could deal with it for that long. Back to the cobblestones for more bumps; finally I can make the right towards T2.
Heading back to the city with more wind; still no relief. Counting down the miles (or Ks) , there was Pharrell again to help me focus, get into aero and push on as I started to pass a few more folks also finishing the bike. Through the streets of Copenhagen, I finally caught sight of people on the run course; they did not look happy. Giving up was not an option as despite my discomfort, everyone was in the same boat as I was; this was an Ironman after all. The last few blocks came quickly, and I finally saw the sign for bike dismount. Relief. I handed Malibu Too over to a nice volunteer, I trotted to my run bag and headed into the changing tent—a co-ed one (when in the Nordic region, I guess that’s how it’s done).
To the right of the mass changing area (which was more crowded than I expected given the time of the day) was a small area for men and one for women where we could change clothing. Getting into the tent, I stretched for a few minutes, got out of my cycling clothing, changed into a tri top, shorts, my CAF hat (I always race with something that says CAF and was fundraising for the organization) and headed out for the 26.2 miles (or 42k run).
Running in the Wind - can’t guy get a break already!
My run plan called for a 5 min walk, followed by a 5 min run and 1 min walk plan. Sticking to my plan, I smiled as people urged me to run…run…run. After the first 5 minutes, I obliged the crowd and started to run; not too fast, but not too slow.
The run consisted of a four ~ 8k loops, taking us from near the finish line to a pedestrian bridge near the water, back though the streets of Copenhagen, past the Little Mermaid statute, through a park, out to a pier where we collected a colored bracelet for every completed lap (four in total) and back to the finish area. The roads had every imaginable surface, from asphalt, to wood, to cobblestones, to cement. It was an excellent test of one’s ability to handle a variety of surfaces and keep focused. The course was well marked (in the daylight), with tons of people lining up at a variety of “hot spots.” The hype of the crowds lived up to expectations which totally motivated me to keep on running (during the five minute sections of course).
The first lap went smoothly and I passed some familiar faces from TriLife along the sidelines cheering their ~10 teammates competing as well. While I did not catch sight of MB on the run, she was out there somewhere. Making my way past the finish line for the start of lap two, I saw the posse, stopped to give them hugs, and made my way back for another loop (~ 17 miles to go). Making my way back to the Little Mermaid statute and the furthest point of the run, the winds started to pick up again. (Perhaps they never died out and I just started to notice them again.)
It was now the latter part of the day and the temperature had begun to drop. I started to feel a little uneasy (queasy and definitely off). Making my way to the pier, I saw Ross, a TriLife coach on the sidelines (guess Earl asked him to look out for me) and went over to him for advice. He felt my arms and immediately told me I was cold to get something warm on and get some nutrition in me; I checked my pockets and noticed my gels had fallen out—likely on the cobblestones! Ross handed me a Coke and told me to drink it and get cola at the aid stations to get some simple syrup calories in quickly. Thanking him, I continued on. Grabbing the second of four bracelets, I headed back to the start of the third loop but modified my plan to a 3:1.
Heading to the finish line area, and the start of loop 3, I saw the posse again and told them I was cold. Not having prepared for the wind, or the chill it created, I did not have an extra layer of clothing. I asked them if I should call it a day (in the back of my head this wasn’t really an option). Mom said try one more lap and see how I feel; at this time I also asked for her windbreaker; a pink one, to keep me warm. Better wear a small, pink windbreaker than be freezing.
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| Getting counsel from mom before she gave up her pink windbreaker |
Heading to the finish line area, and the start of loop 3, I saw the posse again and told them I was cold. Not having prepared for the wind, or the chill it created, I did not have an extra layer of clothing. I asked them if I should call it a day (in the back of my head this wasn’t really an option). Mom said try one more lap and see how I feel; at this time I also asked for her windbreaker; a pink one, to keep me warm. Better wear a small, pink windbreaker than be freezing.
I wish I could say the pink jacket gave me mighty twin, super powers, but it did not. The combination of winds from the bike and now relentless headwinds on the run sounded the call of the war between mind and body. Strategically I picked places where to run (when I could pass someone) and where to walk (when the wind picked up), as the miles counted down. Passing Ross again, he asked how I was feeling as he helped to tuck the hood of the jacket in to stop a sail-like effect it was having in the wind. That quick pep talk helped a lot as I made my way to collect bracelet three.
Heading back to the finish, I was not among the sea of more walkers than runners. Looking at fellow competitors’ wrists, I was jealous of their four as compared to my three. Hitting a sign that showed I had ~ 13k to go, I told my body to shove it and forged ahead. Passing the posse for one last time, I made sure MB was done (they told me yes), looked down at my watch and saw that I had close to 1:45 hours to finish the race. I could easily do 10k in well under that time, especially if I picked moments to run. Mom would later tell me that once I finished the third loop, she knew I would finish, regardless of how much pain I was in physically.
Side note: The posse was standing in the VIP area which was great viewing for the finish line. It was also where the laps split. Approaching the finish area, a guard pointed to the finish line, but alas I shook my head, pointed to the three bracelets and told him I would see him real soon.
At this point the sun was gone and there were far fewer spectators out. I started to talk to a few others on the course, some of whom were very friendly as those in the back of the pack tend to be, while others were in their own dark zone and did not want to deal with my chatter. Every step forward, whether a walk or a few mins of running, was another step to the finish line. The winds were even stronger now and navigating the streets in the dark was somewhat difficult. (For some odd reason, the race did not put out any extra lights on the course, but as I had done the loop three times before, I generally knew where I was—well mostly.) Heading past the Little Mermaid for the last time, I entered the park area which was really pitch dark. The aid stations were packed up, and the only way to really figure out the path was to follow people ahead of me, The only challenge of doing so was I passed many of them when I was able (and willing) to run. Finally collecting my last bracelet, I let myself say that the end is near; a mere 3 miles to the finish line and another IM finish.
Leaving the park (and the darkness), I again picked times when I could run. My quads felt as if on fire at times, but my mind was ruling my body at this point. Running on asphalt, walking on the cobblestones and cement, the last three miles went by somewhat quickly — especially as I passed others. Hitting the last timing mat, I was a mere 1k from the finish and decided to run as much as I could. Over the last bridge, down the last long stretch, I could see the red and black carpet welcoming me home. Remembering the pink jacket, I stopped for a second to take it off (no finish line pics with that on), hoping to throw it to Mom before the finish line.
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| The finish - finally (pink jacket in hand) |
I made my way around the last bend, and saw the finish line chute. I gave the announcer (not Mike Reilly) a high five and used whatever I had left in the tank to sprint to the finish line (pink jacket in my hand). While this was not the race I planned it to be, I found out I notched a PR overall — besting my CdA time by ~ :30 mins — despite the slower than expected run.
After Thoughts
This race took all I had mentally and physically and am proud to once again call myself an Ironman. Congrats to MB on her first IM and to the TriLife crew. A special thank you to Ross for his help.
I would never have gotten through IM Copenhagen without the help of many people. Sorry if this sounds like an acceptance speech, but,
- Earl, Four years, 2 IMs, many coffees and life talks and not letting me quit. I am glad to not only trust him completely as a coach but to call him a friend
- Andy, Nicci, and Dr. Williams (see above)
- Mike Sherry and Bruno Pinto (Bikeriders NYC) for helping Malibu Too stay in shape as we
- The countless training partners at Tailwind Endurance — the Squirrels (Jacquie "Doc" Wolfson and Joyce "Dean" Perley), everyone who kept me company on long ride (especially Maggie O’Brien for the 85 miler and Meg Gardiner for keeping me company on the 100 miler), my bike yoda who helped me focus on cadence Abe Bornstein, and the 5:30am Tailwind crew (Steve “CIA” Dean, Kevin Boova, Christine Hoffmann, Agnes Park, Rosie McGuire, Sarah Couham, Sarah Rupprecht, Salah Tanlay, Matt Bach, Matt Gilotti, and Randi Gordon).
- Ken and Jocelyn Szekretar, Meg Newcomer, Vic Brumfield and everyone who knew that an early dinner on a Sat night meant the blue-haired special
- My family (blood and otherwise) who were more positive on the IM trek
- The people at Accenture — especially the local market team who knew I was crazy and the my new colleagues at Hogan Lovells who just started to learn how crazy I actually am
- Thank you to everyone who donated to CAF. Thus far, I have raised over $10k!
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