IRONMAN Canada Place: Penticton, B.C. Date: 8/27//06 Distance: Ironman (2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and 26.2 mile run) USAT: No Wetsuit: No Injuries: No Results: www.ironman.ca Time: 12:26:57
August 27th, 2006 is a day I had eagerly anticipated for about a year. Just ask my wife and she will tell you that's not an exaggeration. I signed up for Ironman Canada the day after watching the Ironman in 2005. Tod and I pitched tents in the park and signed our asses up for Ironman Canada 2006. I couldn't believe I was going to do an Ironman. I had never even cycled more than 50 miles or run more than a half marathon during training or any triathlons. Fast forward a year and boy how things change.
l'attente
I haven't the slightest clue how to write post of this magnitude. It's been over two weeks since I finished the Ironman. I look back on that day very fondly, elated at what I accomplished that hot Sunday north of the border. The day started very early for me. I tried to go to bed around 11:00pm, but it didn't happen. I got about four good hours of sleep though as I drifted off to music on my iPod. The alarm went off at 4:30 am and I gathered my numerous belongings, woke up my wife, and then visited Tod's hotel room. The three of us headed down to Main Street where Tod and I would get body marked and drop off our Special Needs bags. From there we had to pretty much ditch my wife since we were in an athletes only area. I wouldn't see her again until about seven hours later on the bike course.
We made our way to the transition area, packed a few extra items in our T1 and T2 bags. Then began to disrobe near the beach as the sun peeked over the mountains on the east side of the lake. We took off our dry clothes and stuffed them into a plastic "dry clothes" bag. The Canadian anthem was played by a local bagpiper followed by the pro athlete race start at 6:45 am. The weather cooperated so thankfully the lake water was very calm. We were permitted to enter the smooth water immediately following the pro race start. Yep, there were only three athletes without wetsuits. I convinced one of them, Tod, to go sans wetsuit too. The other guy introduced himself to me just before the SWIM start. The crowd surrounding the beach on the south side of Okanagan Lake was enormous. Thankfully Tod spotted my brother waving at us in the crowd. He's the only person we saw before the start of the race, but it was no big deal. We had a long day ahead of us and had to focus on the prize at hand. I readied myself for the start with a brief warm-up, defogged my goggles, and positioned myself one row deep at the swim start. The canon sounded and 2400 athletes were off for 140.6 miles of bliss.
la natation
Oh shit, the swim is underway and it's a true fight like none I have ever encountered before. Normally I fight for position for roughly the first 10-15 minutes and then it's smooth sailing. Not this time though. I attempted to swim the inside line to shorten the swim distance, but this plan backfired. There were 24 numbered orange buoys during the swim and we passed them on the left side. This meant every time you approached a buoy a "crowding" of sorts would occur. Many swimmers are horrible at sighting their swim line and would get outside the buoys, but would then merge inside them at the last minute as they approached each buoy. I got at least five hands to the face during the hour long swim. My buddy Tod lost his Timex watch five strokes into the swim start, talk about shitty start to the day.
The good thing about this battle in Okanagan Lake is that it doesn't allow you to think about how long you were out there swimming. I didn't have any free time on my mind to ponder what it would be like to be in the water for an hour. In other triathlons of shorter distances, this has always been the case. I constantly had other swimmers nipping at my pasty white toes. If it wasn't that you'd get a swimmer trying to swim right over the top of you or between you and the swimmer next to you. It was the strangest damn thing and never ended. I figured after about 30 minutes I would get some space and be able to stretch out a bit, but nope... I still had to battle for position. I swam some backstroke for the first time in a triathlon and was able to maintain my place in the pack.
I slowly watched the buoys numbers increase, 13, 14, 15, .... There were 24 orange floaties on the water, however it wasn't until I hit number 15 or 16 that I finally glanced at my watch for the first time. It read 45 minutes on my Timex watch. I felt great and was honestly surprised so much time had passed. I picked up the pace a bit and spied a smaller pack of swimmers ahead of me yet I was still swimming in a very fiesty pack of swimmers. I looked left hoping to spot the pier which juts out behind the Lakeshore Casino. When I saw that, I knew I was nearing the swim finish. I could hear the announcer and see the crowds lining the beach. Finally I was close enough to emerge from the water. I hurried out of the water and crossed the time mat with a time of one hour and one minute, 191st overall (2400+ athletes started the race). 2.4 miles of 140.6 out of the way. Transition 1: swim to bike was calling my name.
I bypassed the wetsuit peelers in the transition area as I neglected to wear a wetsuit. Once inside the men's changing tent, I dried myself off and mentally prepared myself for the long day on the BIKE. I put on my blue bike jersey, gloves, helmet, socks, shoes and was ready to attack the 112 mile bike course. Oh, I did have one stop to make at the porto-potty though, lake water. Upon exiting the porto-potty, some guy was misting off athletes. I thought it was water, but it turned out to be sunscreen. Good thing I had him wand me off because it was a scorcher and I likely would have had some major sunburn. Sure I applied sunscreen before the swim, but who knows how much remained.
le vélo
I snatched my bike from the rack and hurried out of the transition area where I would mount my Softride triathlon bike and ready myself for a long grueling 180 kilometer journey. Once on my bike I had a huge grin and did my first fist pump of the day. My second fist pump was captured in this photo by my buddy Scott. It came about thirty seconds later as I spied my wife and Scott cheering for me on the way out of downtown Penticton near Starbucks. I was so damn pumped up that I had to fight back tears already. Fans lined both sides of Main Street in something very similar to what you see in the Tour de France. I naturally got goosebumps.
The first forty miles of the bike course are fairly uneventful. There's only one climb of any real significance, McLean Creek Road, prior to beginning the ascent of Richter Pass. During those first forty miles we enjoyed a nice tailwind and were able to ride at about 25-30 miles per hour without too much effort. This is a time when many riders take time to hydrate, eat, urinate, and jockey for positions before attacking the legendary ascent of Richter Pass. I had the opportunity to learn how the bike aid stations worked, bypassing the first one along the shores of Skaha Lake. The next one was located near Vaseux Lake on highway 97. I snagged a banana and a bottle of water.
Holy shit, my bike is veering directly towards the concrete barrier (like the one shown here). Holy shit this is going to suck ass. No, this can't be happening. Those were the various thoughts running through my head as I accidentally ran over a Gatorade bottle cap. I hit the cap and my bike darted right with my new Vittoria tire clipping the barrier. I tensed up and took a firm hold of the handle bars. My right ankle and right hip brushed up against the concrete barrier for about 3 seconds. Somehow I was able to avoid what could have been a catastrophic accident. Had I fallen over at that point I'm not sure what would have happened, but I can tell you I was going about 25 mile per hour when I hit the concrete barrier. My ankle definitely took a good hit, but I didn't see any blood and could barely feel any pain so five minutes later I completely forgot about the accident. I was a bit shaken, but relieved I was able to keep the bike upright. Needless to say so were a couple other riders such as Mr. Orr who rode up alongside me and said "way to handle your bike".
With the near accident behind me it was once again time to jockey for positions and time for my first bathroom break on the bike. I stopped at a porto-potty south of downtown Oliver and took care of some business. This bike stop doubled as an aid station so a volunteer was kind enough to hold my bike while I quickly took care of business. Many male riders bypassed the blue portables for pissing off the side of the road. Rumor has it there are some guys (and women) who pee while riding. Sure it does add time to your effort, but for my first Ironman I thought it was wise to take time to get off the bike and relieve myself. I put some sanitizer on my hands, grabbed the bike from the volunteer, thanked them for their help, and then pedalled through the aid station grabbing cookies, a banana, and a fresh cold Gatorade bottle.
Richter Pass starts to appear off the right side of highway 97 as we near Osoyoos and the mile 40 marker. You can see the gentle grade of Canada 3 rising above the fertile farmland in the distance. Cyclists are still very bunched up near me and many of us are in danger of drafting penalties. I wasn't able to ride four bike lengths behind as required, but was closer to 2 or 3. Like the swim, the cyclists were pretty tightly packed throughout the bike course.
Bring on the elevation gain!! We hung a right at the Husky gas station in Osoyoos and slowly began to climb Richter Pass. Before the real climbs starts I empty and top off the tank, if you know what I mean. Fans are crowded along the right shoulder providing plenty of motivation with signs, music, cheers, cowbells, etc. I thank the fans often, remembering to enjoy this first Ironman as much as possible. The grade steepens, but I'm able to maintain a steady pace. The heat makes its first appearance as the wind is now gone and so is the shade. Cyclists are riding 3-5 wide making many passes. I got caught behind some slower moving cyclists and wasn't able to attack the hill as well as I had planned. I lost some momentum on the first climb, but did gain on many cyclists on subsequent climbs. I noticed cyclists with disc wheels seemed to labor more than others up the hills, but perhaps that was my imagination or simply wishful thinking.
6 miles of climbing about 2,000 feet or so on the bike was drawing near. The number of fans increased and could now be seen on both sides of the road. Slow moving vehicles would shout out their support as they passed us on our final push up Richter Pass. The photographers were everywhere and a helicopter could be heard overhead. I pushed hard that last bit knowing full well there would be a great downhill portion on the backside of Richter Pass. Hello aero bars. Aero bars attach to a bike to allow a cyclist to get in a more aerodynamic position. In theory they allow a rider to conserve energy for later portions of the race, mainly the run.
I got in the aero position on my bike and topped out at about 43 miles per hour on this descent into the valley. After that we had a series of seven hills, kindly referred to as the "seven bitches". I used this time to eat some food, swap places with other riders, and to stretch. Many of us ate during these minor ups and downs. Once passed the seven bitches there was a long flat portion before the out and back in Cawson. I once again used this time to eat food. The wind was at my back so I was able to ride hands free while enjoying some tasty Clif Bloks, bananas, and Gu. Amazingly the bike was still pacing at about 24 miles per hour without much effort or anyone passing me. Got to love a tailwind.
I hit the out and back portion with as much confidence as possible. When my buddy Tod and I rode the course in July the out and back portion killed me. It's about 75-80 miles into the bike portion and this is typically when most riders bonk (hit the dreaded "wall"). This time however I remained positive mentally and stayed up with my pack of cyclists. I grabbed my special needs bag at the end of the turnaround, snatched the butt butter, handwritten note from my wife, and Clif bar and made immediate use of them. I also took this time to pee again, not using the porto-potty so a woman could use it if she had to. After about five minutes spent here, I mounted the bike for a final time and continued down the road, knowing the tough ride up Yellow Lake remained. I struggled up one of the hills on the out and back and thought to myself, "shit, if this one hill is that tough, Yellow Lake is going to kick my ass". There's a short out and back on the Cawson out and back and this is where I saw my buddy/training partner/Best Man Tod for the first time. We exchanged very brief pleasantries and made mental note that he was about 20 minutes behind me.
The climb to Yellow Lake is longer, but more gradual than Richter Pass until you hit a certain point when it suddenly steepens. I felt good though and I finally had some space between the riders surrounding me. I drank as many fluids as possible to stay hydrated. I dumped all my water into the water bottle sandwiched between my aero bars. The climb had started and I ditched my empty water bottles, hoping there would be a bottle exchange at the base of the climb just like there was at Richter Pass.
Sadly the water bottle exchange didn't happen until the summit of the climb though. I didn't need the water to drink, however I wanted it to cool myself off. The chalk on the road increases as the grade of the climb increases as you can see with these photos. This also is an indication of the volume of fans lining both sides of the road. It was here where I saw my wife and Scott holding signs for both of us.
It was an emotional outpouring when I saw our two devoted fans for the first time since the race started at 7:00 am. I knew from here I could make it back to town and that nothing would stop me. There were a couple more climbs remaining after Yellow Lake at Twin Lakes and one before the steep curves leading back to highway 97. I pedalled my heart out, hoping to make it back to town before 2:00 pm. My goal was to complete the bike course in less than six hours. I pushed as hard as I could and made sure to stretch often as I descended back into Penticton. I glanced across Skaha Lake knowing I would soon be there running. The ride through downtown wasn't as easy as I hoped it would be. It's a slight uphill as you pedal north on Main Street. Just before hitting transition I threw my right fist in the air for fist pump #3. I finished the 112 mile bike ride in 5 hours 56 minutes and 59 seconds!
la course à pied
Oh, now it's time to run a marathon. Before I start the run though, there's a matter of business I had to take care of, uh hum. Five minutes later I emerge and was pounding the pavement along Lakeshore Drive in the 90 degree heat after exiting transition. My stride felt short and the legs seemed heavy. I couldn't allow myself to think about the 26 mile run ahead of me. The fans crowded the downtown streets and provided plenty of motivation. I stopped at the first aid station and poured two cups of water over my head, swallowed two cups and drank one of Gatorade. This would be routine over the next five hours.
I didn't pass up any aid stations during the run for fear of dehydration. Every other aid station would become a bathroom stop for me as the liquids ran right through me. Shortly after the first aid station a female runner ahead of me puked. This didn't come as a surprise to me as I was warned this would be a common sight during the run portion.
Get this, some dude carried an American flag with him the entire run. I saw him right at the beginning and shortly after the halfway turnaround point. I'm curious what his story was, but apparently I wasn't curious enough to ask him.
There were some desperate times on the run course where I had to pull over to the side of the road to relieve myself. This wasn't nearly as common of a site on the run as it was during the bike portion, but sometimes nature calls. Contents of the aid station typically included: peanut butter cookies, pretzels, bananas, assorted fruit, Gatorade, cups of ice, Coke, water, chicken broth, Power Gels, Power Bars, and sponges. I made the decision the night before to wear my hyrdration belt with its three eight ounce bottles. I also added the little Fuel Belt pouch which was included in our registration goodie bag. I stashed away pretzels, Clif Bloks, and lip protection in the brightly colored pocket. Sure this added weight, but sometimes you get either thirsty or hot in between the aid stations. I didn't want either of those things to happen. My goal was to run the entire marathon with the exception of the aid stations.
I passed the legendary Steve King's broadcast booth on the way out of town near the northeast side of Skaha Lake. He set up a tent and was providing his own Ironman coverage since the bigwigs at Ironman North America decided their two announcers would be a better fit. Steve's loyal fans listened to his take on things and we appreciated their effort. Other fans on the side of the road did a great job pronouncing my name using my race bib. I heard "great job Egan" and "nice pace Egan" many times during the run. I wasn't running at blazing fast speed, but I ran nice and steady. I told myself no walking unless absolutely necessary with an emphasis on not breaking my running form. I didn't notice the mile markers until about mile seven which was probably when I saw the first pro going in the opposite direction back towards town. The run course goes 13.1 miles down the east side of Skaha Lake and dead ends at the town of Okanagan Falls before retracing its steps. That's where the run special needs bags were located.
The five miles between mile 7 and the turnaround were tough. There was absolutely no protection from the shade. The right side of my face felt like it was on fire. I took the usual precautions to cool myself off at each aid station. Many people were walking the course due to the heat. You could easily walk the run course and finish under the 17 hour limit at this point in time. Some didn't walk though and they pushed themselves very hard, perhaps even too hard. Many ambulances were summoned to the run course. It felt like you heard one every 10 minutes or so.
The tough stretch of the run was encountered at about mile 10-13 where you would go up and down some decent sized hills following the McLean Creek cutoff road that veered off to the left as part of the bike course. Almost 80% of the athletes walked this portion of the race. I told myself I couldn't do that though and was able to keep running... when I wasn't using the outhouse.
Life on the run course: I passed my buddy Brady somewhere around mile 10. I gave him a high five and he muttered something about how the heat had slowed him down. He appeared to be a bit behind his pace. His best Ironman time is 9:52, but he had to settle for a 10:21 on this day. Even then he finished 99th overall which is damn good. Another guy running the other way, Casey, shouted out a cheer of good luck. He used to play indoor soccer with me in the Starbucks league. The run is nice because you can talk with other athletes. Whether you walk, jog, run, or exchange glances... the run is a nice social outlet on the long day. This is where you form some great relationships. The other athletes are so helpful and inspiring to other runners. It's what makes me come back for more each year. Sure there's some competitive juices flowing, but everyone wants to see other athletes do their best.
The south end of Skaha Lake is finally here and I turn right at the bottom of the hill leading to the town of Okanagan Falls. I see Tod's entire family there cheering loudly for me on my left side. I got a bit emotional hearing their support. I continued down the road a bit where I retrieved my run special needs bag. I held onto the bag with my left hand until I crossed the time mats, 13.1 miles complete. I threw another fist pump and exclaimed to the fans "only 13.1 miles more". I scanned the area looking for a place to stop and get my belongings out of the white plastic bag. A green camp chair called my name.
"Hi, mind if I borrow this chair to change my socks?" The lady/fan smiled at me and said "feel free". I spent the next few minutes chit chatting with this very kind woman from Edmonton, Alberta. The contents of my run special needs bag were few: another handwritten comment by my wife, a Clif Bar, a packet of Clif Bloks, and a pair of fresh running socks. I removed my old gray socks and put on my white Fox River running socks. Aww, fresh socks feel pretty nice halfway through a run. I read the note from my wife again and headed up the road. Before departing I joked with the fans about wanting a stinky pair of used running socks. No takers on the used running socks could be found. I ditched them in the pile of garbage. (*Note: the contents of the two special needs bags weren't returned to us. That's why I didn't put a whole bunch of stuff into my special needs bags.)
I made a brief pit stop with Tod's mom and his aunts. I told them Tod should be about 20-30 minutes behind me, but wasn't certain. I hadn't seen him since about mile 80 or so on the bike, roughly four hours before. Tod's family gave me an energy boost. Another glance at my watch made it clear there was no way I could finish in less than 12 hours, but that wasn't a huge deal.
I ran the exact same race I ran on the first half of the marathon. The fresh socks felt great. Each aid station I continued my routine of a couple glasses over the head, a Gatorade, some food, and maybe a bathroom break. I passed many walkers on the way back as the sun lowered on the horizon. Some athletes play a dangerous game, flirting with dehydration. I continued to hear and see lots of ambulances on the course. I passed a pink haired guy on the way back who was surrounded by concerned fans. The athlete appeared to be down for the count, most likely pushing himself too hard. The less you drink, in theory, the less bathroom breaks you will need thus allowing an athlete to save heaps of time. Again this is a risky game to play and one I wasn't willing to entertain.
Yes baby, yes. I can see the town of Penticton and was feeling fantastic. I never did see Tod during the run, but it's possible he passed me while I made one of my many porto-potty visits. The fans sat on the side of the road and offered lots of encouragement. The other side of the road had athletes just leaving town. Those athletes would be the ones to finish in the final two hours of the race. Hearing cheers I picked up my pace and was now running faster than I had all day.
The Ironman announcers at the finish line were finally within earshot and I began scanning the crowds looking for family and friends. I fought back tears again while a huge grin graced my face. I was overwhelmed with glee and turned the final stretch on Lakeshore Drive hearing my name over and over again by fans and family. I glanced at the watch again and knew I could finish in less than 12 hours and 30 minutes. I chugged some water and Gatorade at the final aid station right there on Lakeshore Drive and continue motoring towards the finish line. Somehow I was able to keep my emotions in check... for a few seconds.
The happiness inside of me was bubbling over as my smile widened. I briefly reflected on the long day that was nearing its completion. I studied the fans to make sure I didn't miss any of my family or friends. My wife was behind the fence so she wasn't able to cross the finish line with me. You can see her purple Timex watch in the corner of this picture. I was a bit sad she wouldn't be able to cross the finish which explains the odd look on my face.
Once I knew I could cross the finish prior to the 12 hour and 30 minute mark I was quite pleased and relieved. Glancing back I had nobody behind me so a sweet finish line shot was pretty much guaranteed.... or so I thought. A bunch of family members jumped out of the crowd and ushered their loved ones across the tape. Something took control of my body as I jumped into the air, releasing a ton of emotion. I stuck the landing and gave high fives to the fans crowding the finish line, including my wife, brother, and mom. Twelve hours and 26 minutes after I started at 7:00 am, I was done. "Egan, you are an Ironman!
After crossing the finish line I was whisked away by two "catchers" as they're called. They basically usher you to an athlete area and make sure you don't require medical attention. They held my belongings as I posed for my finish photo with my medal. I was promptly handed a finisher's t-shirt, my medal, and a finisher's cap. There was plenty of food available, but I honestly wasn't hungry at that point in time. My body isn't usually all that hungry after these events until a couple hours later. We hung out in Gyro Park with my wife, Scott, and my brother. I decided to retrieve my belongings from the transition area while waiting for Tod to finish. We took my stuff back to the motel and shuffled back to the finish line as Tod finished. He crossed the line at 14 hours exact. We both had completed our goal of doing an Ironman and for that moment in time we were on top of the world.
... three weeks have passed and I'm still basking in the post-Ironman glory as much as possible. The motivation to work out has been tough to find. I'm sure it's all part of the post-Ironman letdown. I will take 2007 off from the Ironman, however I will return to Penticton in 2008 and hope to take at least an hour off this year's time. I'm already scheming how it will be done. Most importantly, thanks to all of you for your support over the past year. It was very nice to know I had lots of support while on the course. All of you deserve a medal for your words of encouragement. A heartfelt "Thank You" to each and every one of you!
P.S. you can find a complete unorganized collection of Ironman Canada photos here.
