A RACE2TRAIN RACE REPORT BY R2
The Event: Iron Distance Triathlon
2.4-mile swim, 112-mile bike, 26.2-mile run
The Venue: St George, Utah, USA
Open water swim in Sand Hollow Reservoir; hilly, modified-lollipop with two laps; hilly two-lap run course finishing in downtown St George. T1 and T2 are over 20 miles apart, so you do have to plan ahead. It also made getting around on race day a bit more complicated for the spectators.
The Training: A Couple of Races
After the IMNOLA 70.3 (read my review on this site if you haven't seen it), I didn't get much in the way of training. I had a couple of short runs, and was supposed to do the Steamboat Classic Sprint Tri in Cape Girardeau, but a number of factors kept me from that race. In effect, I went into this race with only slightly more than zero training in the two weeks before it, but I'm a two-time Ironman, so what's one more race?
The Race: The Toughest North American Ironman?
This was the inaugural race for this event. The town of St George did a phenomenal job supporting the race, and the volunteers were some of the most enthusiastic of any race I've seen. If only their enthusiasm could have done something about the weather - the temperatures dropped about 15 degrees below average (40's-60's), and the winds picked up quite a bit.
The swim was a fairly common left-turn-only route in Sand Hollow Resevoir. The water was clear enough that you could see other swimmers before they ran into you, but it was also just below 60 degrees. For some folks, that wasn't much of a problem - for me it resulted in a near-hypothermic reaction by the time I hit T1. I lost at least five minutes in T1 because I was shaking so violently I couldn't get dressed for my ride. Of course the temperature in the mid-40's meant I had to put on much more for the ride; arm warmers, vest, and full-finger gloves (I never wear gloves on my tri-bike!).
One of the worst things you can do when you're cold and wet, and riding in dry air, is coast down a hill - you lose a few more degrees in a matter of seconds - yet the bike course started with a sizeable downhill. I was still trying to recover from the swim when I hit that hill, so I was able to pedal enough to generate any noticeable heat. After that, the course leveled out for a while. Once I made the left turn onto the main road and started up the first of many (many!) hills, I was dry, but far from warm. The first couple of hills helped a bit, but that wouldn't last. The start of the loop had a couple more hills, then flattened out for a bit. I actually warmed up enough to take the gloves and vest off toward the end of the flattest part of the loop - a decision I would later regret. A couple of miles into the loop, the hills started again, the road surface went to hell, and the headwinds started. The next 25 miles may have been the longest and slowest of my life. I watched my average speed on my computer plummet as the combination of elements took their toll on me. I know I wasn't the only one having trouble out there, and I've had races where it was all about surviving the pain, but this is the first race where I realized I didn't have the horsepower to make it. 
At any endurance race, I run dozens, if not hundreds, of calculations through my head to determine when I'll cross the finish line. At my first two ironmen, I finished within 10 minutes of the time I calculated shortly after starting the run. Two hours into the bike, I was running those same calculations to see if I'd make the first loop cutoff, and they weren't looking good! By the time I got to ‘the wall' (a nearly 17% climb just over a half-mile long and over 4,000' above sea level) it was somewhat anti-climactic. It was far from the hardest climb of the day - the hairpin turn at the bottom meant the wind was at my back, a steady cadence in my lowest gear meant I could stay in the saddle for all but the last pitch-up, and I already knew I wasn't going to make the cut-off. My mind played its tricks and tried to convince me I hadn't remembered the cutoff time properly so I still had a chance, so I kept pushing. Even as I dove down the 40+ mph descents and fought the crosswinds to get back to start the second loop, I was already too late. I turned the last corner to see the timing mat had been rolled up and the race officials were flagging me down - my race was done just over seven hours into the day.
If you've had that happen, you know how I feel. If you haven't, I don't recommend it - it's a pain that is hard to describe, but try to picture having your spirit ripped out as they pull your timing chip.
Obviously, I can't tell you much about T2 or the run. I heard a few complaints about the dirt floor in T2 resulting in small rocks in shoes. I heard people talk about the 8% grade at some points on the run, and how the first two miles of each loop were uphill. I won't be able to write about those in detail until I go back and beat this beast in 2012.
Lessons-Learned: What works for easy races doesn't work for the hard ones!
1. It's time to by a bonnet and booties for the really cold water swims - it's too hard to regain core temperature after that much time in the water.
2. When you live below 1,000', you have to be in even better shape to survive a race at nearly a mile high - it really does make a difference when you can only run at 80% of normal.
3. My bike legs still aren't back - didn't I say I needed to do some intervals?
4. When the first Ironman of the year is one of the hardest on the circuit and at the beginning of May, there aren't enough races to get in shape in time!
R2
PLEASE NOTE: R2 is a strong athlete and has a sense of humor about his training (lack thereof), but this is not recommended. Ironman is an extreme endurance event and should be carefully prepared for OVER TIME. It is dangerous for your health and can be dangerous for the athletes around you on race day. As a follow up to this post, I have added "Ironman Tips" under the Training Articles section.
Sally Drake