Mike Guzek

It’s a tough pill to swallow when you still have six hours of racing and you need to accept what awaits you at the finish is not what you came to get.  But there I was at mile 70 of the bike realizing that it just was not my day.  I wish I was injured or sick or else had some good reason to explain the inexplicable lack of life in my legs, but there was nothing I could point to.  I had tried to ride my way out of the rut and force myself to ride the power that I had in training, but that turned out to be a mistake because now I was not only moving slow, but I was also beginning to suffer.  But this is what Ironman is all about.  It doesn’t give you a participant’s trophy or look the other way if you don’t make the cutoff.  It’s bare-knuckle fighting and if you don’t keep your hands up it will stick you between the eyes….and I was getting popped!

I was beginning to feel sorry for myself and I thought about a terrific shirt I saw at the expo two days before: “Blame no one.  Expect nothing. Do something.”  I wish I could say that thinking about that got me going strong and I went on to a personal best time and married the prom queen, but it didn’t.  But it did give me a reason to keep going.  It’s very disorienting to work towards something….to get closer and closer to it, only to realize that it’s no longer there.  My goal of a PR was gone and I was directionless for a while.  That quote provided the pathway to find a new focus:  ”Stop being mad about where you are at because nobody owes you a PR today….nobody even owes you a good day. YOU need to make YOUR own day with what you have right now.”  And then I tried a trick I used a few years ago when I flatted during an Ironman race.  I gave myself 5 minutes to feel sorry for myself.  I could do whatever I wanted.  I could swear or pedal easy.  I could even get off my bike and throw things.  But after 5 minutes, that was it.  Whatever problems I had, they only existed in past.  My race started anew at that moment with new goals and new purpose.  Time goals were adjusted and I focused more on the joy of seeing my family on the course later in the day.

But how did I get into this mess in the first place?  Let’s go back in time in my life.  When a mommy and a daddy love each other VERY much they do something VERY special.  On second thought, let’s not go back that far.

Louisville has a time trial start where one by one you jump off a dock into the Ohio River.  It’s very organized and the line moves quickly, but there is certainly a mad dash to get in line ASAP so you aren’t near the back which creates a lot of artificial stress.   Brady and I flew through transition set-up, made the 15 minute walk to the swim start and we were in line by 5:30 a.m. and were probably 300 people back.  The people up front had blankets and lawn chairs as if they had been there for days.  It reminded me of Brady camping out for Celine Dion tickets a few years ago (I kid, I kid).  While I didn’t really care for the TT start, it was still a pretty neat sight as the sun was rising to watch the first few hundred people run up the dock and leap off in chase of glory.

As Brady and I made our way onto the dock the walk became a trot and eventually a full on run as we made the right turn onto the “finger” part of the dock where we were to hop in the water.  The lady in front of me stopped to futz with her watch  (as I gently yelled “Goooooooo!”) so I just did a swan dive off the side. Note to lady:  start your watch a few seconds BEFORE crossing the mat instead of crossing the mat and holding everyone up as the clock ticks while you reset your watch.  The water was warm but swimmable (non-wetsuit swim)  and I made my way up and then back down the Ohio River.  There was a very light oncoming current on the way out, but nothing substantial.   Having other swimmers ahead of me made sighting super easy and I felt long and smooth over the uneventful swim.  I came out in 54 minutes which is about what I expected.  I did the customary stumble up the steps on the way out of the water and made my way into T-1.

The bike started off OK, and I rode conservatively.  But even riding easy after an hour I started to feel some fatigue and got a bit worried.  The course was harder than I anticipated with the “rollers” a little longer and steeper than is ideal for me. I climb well on moderate grades and can climb long, but short and steep tends to chew me up a bit.  At mile 40 Brady came flying by which was awesome and I paced off him for a while to try
to snap out of my “funk”.  And then the only other guy I knew in the race, Manuel, showed up and the three of us rode together for an hour or so.   I felt good for a while but after about 30 miles, I began to realize that the increased pace was just eating me up.  I SHOULD have been able to ride it, but on this day I could not.  After accepting my situation I limped back to the transition area.  I rode slower than I wanted, but I was also more tired which made the thought of the run daunting.   I took an extra few seconds in T-2 to try regroup before starting out on the final leg.

I didn’t worry about time on the run.  I just focused on what was sustainable.  I was bruised, but I wasn’t broken and I knew I could still put up a respectable time as long as I focused on what I COULD do and not what I WANTED to do.  I hoped to avoid any major breakdowns.  I ran aid station to aid station, only walking briefly in between on two occasions towards the end.  I roughly would progress from gel, Coke, and sports drink at each aid station.  It was never pretty, but I never stopped making forward progress.  The absolute highlight was seeing Melanie and Maxon on the run at mile 14.  He was confused for sure, but did flash a smile of amazement.   I’m starting to understand why parents were so hell bent on crossing the finish line with their kids all these years.

I told Melanie I’d probably finish around 11 hours leaving me about 2:10 for the second half of the run,  but on goals like that you almost always go slower.  The act of articulating it though, accidentally gave me a time goal.  It kept me motivated and honest over the last 13 miles and I managed to slip in at 10:57.
I wish I could say I was that guy who could always finish with a smile on his face, that I’m just happy to cross the line, but I’m not. I certainly appreciate the satisfaction of finishing and I earned every bit of the 3/4s of a slice of pizza I managed to peck at post race.  But I can’t ignore the fact that I didn’t get what I wanted, but  I’m OK with that.  I’ve played sports long enough to know that sometimes they pull out the mercy rule on you because your team is getting clobbered or some guy pins your weak attempt on the backboard in front of your girlfriend.  You don’t just get it by just showing up.  You get it because you earned it.  And that’s what I love about this and that’s why I do it.  You can’t truly appreciate “getting it” until you truly understand losing it.  And by many measures on this day, I lost it.   But I will keep trying because the next time I get it, I will appreciate it that much more. I have to keep making the choice if I am strong enough to try again.  Blame no one.  Expect nothing. Do something.

Full results: http://ironmanlouisville.com/results/

Pictures and video finish: http://www.asiorders.com/view_user_event_video.asp?EVENTID=75726&BIB=1474&VLOC=Finish

You can see my bike and run GPS data from there race here: http://connect.garmin.com/activity/32442040. Lap 1 is the bike, the rest of the laps are mile (in some cases 2 or 3) splits.

The course is hard. The swim was around 60 degrees and could easily be +/- 5 degrees in future races. The bike was as advertised containing over 6,000 feet of climbing. Even for a well trained age grouper a 112 mile ride covering 6K of climbing is a challenging training ride, let alone something you’d do in a race. Show of hands of who has run 26.2 miles after 6K of climbing over 112 miles?? Right, not many of us and for good reason because it’s hard! Top this off with constant wind and long stretches of chip seal paving and the ride is less than pleasant. The run serves up 2,300 feet of elevation gain. By itself, it’s doable, but after the bike it’s quite challenging. The course is almost never flat and in many places is very steep going up or down. Even with proper pacing on the bike, the run is going to hurt, there is no escaping it and all but the very elite will suffer mightily. But we are there to suffer, right? Of course, so that doesn’t bother me.

While the elevation gain is a bit daunting, that’s not really what will make the course hard. The wind….oh the wind. On race day we were lucky and winds were moderate but on the days prior and after they were gusting to the point that I’d rather not race at all. The screaming descent at the end of each loop would be very dangerous in the wind and between that and the chip seal you’d have a pretty miserable 5-8 hour white knuckled vibrating experience. Even with moderate winds like we had there were times where it felt a bit like being in a washing machine as winds quickly changed directions on you back and forth making it hard to get into a rhythm.

The location of the race is amazing. You won’t find better scenery at any Ironman race in North America. I’ve never done Canada but I’d say this was hands down better scenery than even a place like Lake Placid. The bike offers views as far as the eye can see with a mix of red dessert sand and distant snowcapped peaks. The people of St. George were the best hosts I have ever experienced. I must have had my picture take at least 30 times by spectators who were completely in awe of every single racer, even a shmoe like me. They were completely enthusiastic. Even at a wonderful venue like Lake Placid, there is a “been there done that” sense among the locals, but here these guys were wide-eyed and possibly even more excited than I was for the race.

As for the race production, it was flawless which is amazing for a first time race with two transitions no less. My only complaint was that they did body marking (using stencils and special ink) at registration. So I stood in one like for 30 minutes and it turns out that that was only for the upper body. I had to then go stand in another line for 30 minutes to get my age on my calf. But beyond that, it came across like a race that had been running forever.

Overall for me personally I probably won’t do this race because of the variability in the weather and the implications it could have on the race. We lucked out with good conditions but I still wasted a lot of mental energy over the potential cold water, gusting winds, cold descents, etc. I’d rather just focus more on swim, bike, run than neoprene caps or whether I need booties on the bike or not. While the town is great, the location is beautiful and the course is challenging , I’m just not sure I’d want my training to be undermined by factors beyond simply swimming, biking and running. But some people love that stuff and if you’re one of those people….stop reading this and go sign up!

I wasn’t sure if this would be a low key race or one stocked with Boulder studs since this was the first running of the race – ever. When I found myself making small talk with pro Chris McDonald at the swim start, I realized it was probably the latter. Great. That guy is in my age group too. This was only my second race of the year and my first and my first Olympic tri in a year. When the gun went off I struggled for about five minutes to stay off the back group of McDonald and company and eventually slipped back and did my own thing. I’m not quite that fast. They weren’t that far ahead, but I could never mount enough of a charge to catch up. Overall though it was a good swim and I was a few spots down out of the water.

Heading out on the bike I past Melanie (super spectator) and Owen (super volunteer)….what up peeps!?!! Straight away a few guys blew by me, and I was moving at the time!! After the first ten minutes of the ride nobody else came by and I never saw another guy behind me. Much like the swim, a fellow sat about 20-30 seconds ahead of me the entire ride and I could never catch him. It’s funny how such a small distance can seem insurmountable when racing. The course was flat and the day was cool and I was absolutely flying. 24 mph average for the ride and a 1:02 split. That must be a PR for me.

Off on the run I actually felt good. The cool weather really works for a guy like me. I was holding a seven minute per mile pace and was pretty happy with that. I noticed I was starting to reel in the guy I had been chasing on the bike. What!?!? Me? Reeling in someone on the run? Oh wow, someone pinch me!!! The run was somewhat uneventful in that I just stayed exactly at a seven minute mile pace. A few guys slipped by me, but certainly not a parade like I sometimes see. I tried to pick it up over the last couple miles but a cramp started to suggest it might want to make its presence known so I had to hold back just a tad. I didn’t lose much time but perhaps I was about 30 seconds slower than I could have been. I finished with a 43 minute run with 2:09 finish time which was a nice Oly distance PR for me. Overall, I was very happy across all three sports. But the hardest part was yet to come.

I gave my gear to Melanie then hopped on my bike and biked the 60 miles home back to Boulder. I was feeling great as I reached the Boulder city limits until I passed a lady who was also biking home from the race! Except she was man enough….er, woman enough to do it with all her gear on her back!! Her bag, wetsuit, running shoes etc. all loaded up in her backpack. Suddenly I didn’t feel that studly. Humpf. The sport can be so humbling.

For a variety of reasons, this was my first race of the year. As a result, I was unusually nervous. If you only have one race under your belt for the season and it sucks….well, then you pretty much have no choice but to accept that you suck. I did not want to suck. That said, while slightly inconsistent and scattered, my training in general had been good. So let’s dust off the wetsuit and fish out the race belt and get started, shall we?

My swim warm up consisted of standing at the start line for 2 minutes doing some air swimming. It seemed good enough and ensured I had some space around me at the start. When the gun went off I very quickly found myself sitting in 3rd in my wave behind 2 other swimmers. The pace was perfect. I was working, but I was comfortable. The lead swimmer picked his way through the crowds and I just followed bubbles. About 3/4s of the way around the course our group broke up and I finished up solo, managing to come out first in the AG, just barely ahead of a whole bunch of fast people right behind. I was out of the water in just under 27 minutes, but crossed the matt at the top of the hill in 28 minutes.

Things were good so far. Almost immediately after I hit T-1 I started getting passed, despite the fact I was doing everything really really fast. There is fast and then there is crazy boulder athlete fast…and those were the guys that went by. As fast as it started, it ended and just a few miles into the bike I went from first to 5th, but that’s where I stayed the rest of the ride. It was a glorious ride though with a perfectly even effort through each and every mile. It was windy, but not so much that it was a distraction. The wind did slow the overall time down a bit to 2:21, but based on my power output I crush previous bike efforts on the course. But did I go too hard?

Out of T-2 I felt good. This is where the race would really begin. My run training going into the race had been good, but I still didn’t feel like I was “back” from a broken bone in my foot earlier in the year. The first miles went by in 7:35 pace which was good. Things felt fairly easy and I walked the crest of the hills to recover just a bit so I could run the flats over the top. It was cooler than in previous years, but with no shade it was still quite hot while running. I was through the first loop in 50 minutes exactly which was on pace for a 1:40 run time which was my goal. I made a quick pit stop at one of those big plastic boxes at each aid station to drop some water weight and when I came out I found it really hard to get running again. My pace dropped to 8 minute miles and I held that the rest of the way to finish the run in 1:44 – 4 minutes short of my goal by a 3 minute run PR on the course. My finishing time of 4:36 was a personal best on this course by 6 minutes so I could barely have been happier with the performance. I’m not sure if it’s altitude or the course or something else, but this is just a hard course to me. Perhaps the hardest part of the day was heading to a wedding that evening. While I managed to make it on the dance floor for a while, I was a shadow of my typical wedding dance floor self.