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Race Report Florida 2007 or How not to do your first Ironman

I was going to do the standard "got up early, ate this, did this, got that wrong, got that right, got a bit metal on a rope" report until I got a message from Spans (thanks Spans it helped me put a lot of it into perspective) which reminded of how far I have actually come to complete this event and decided that maybe I should give more details - possibly as a warning to newbies of how not to do it, possibly to inspire newbies as to what actually is possible.

I am not putting myself forward as a good example to follow. If you are considering your first Ironman you could follow what I did and end up struggling, worrying, gambling on finishing or not, and completely shattered by the end of it. Much more sensibly you could listen to the vast amount of experience on the forum, prepare yourself well physically and mentally, and know that it is well within your capabilities before you turn up on some strange beach squeezed into lycra and rubber with 2,000 strangers.

OK, so where do we start? - Well firstly I am not a natural athlete, but did keep myself reasonably fit until I retired in 2001 (I could run for a bus, even if the bus usually won). When I retired I put on a bit of weight and went back to my old faithful of jogging and gym to take it off and was eventually joined by my wife and we went on to do a few races culminating in a marathon in June 2004 (nothing spectacular but we did finish). Things were looking good and I entered a few more races but as many of you know, I promptly knackered my back and had to wait some time for neurosurgery.

In 2005 I was unable to walk more than 100yards, was swallowing so many painkillers each day that I couldn't safely drive, had to put my university course on hold and spent most of my time lying on my back trying to get some relief from the pain. I wasn't exactly a prime candidate for an egg and spoon race never mind anything else.

At the end of 2005 I had surgery and didn't give myself the best chance of recovery by being impatient about trying to do things but I reckoned I was getting better even if it wasn't as fast as I wanted it to be.

My wife in the meantime had become a dedicated training machine on her way to completing her first Ironman (not bad for somebody who couldn't run a mile without stopping when we first started to train together) and I was jealous of her achievements to say the least. During her preparation for going off to Germany she entered me as part of a Pirate relay team put together by Spans for a 5k run - we both reckoned that I should be recovered enough by then but in the end her son did it in my place as I was finding that it was taking me three or four days to recover from a gentle jog.

So we are in June 2006, the Pirates have invaded Frankfurt and they have come mob-handed. I am still swallowing pain killers, can't get in enough training to run 5k, and haven't had the official all clear from my surgeon to train (this wouldn't come through for another year due to missing appointments because they clashed with university exams) and am hobbling around Germany photographing Pirates who have put themselves on the line to complete and in some cases compete at Ironman.

I had first seen Ironman about 20 years previously on World of Sport (yes I am that old) and thought I would like to do that some day but didn't think in those days that I would ever be able to do it. Now I was watching a brave band put themselves on the line and in most cases complete what, in spite of what Candy says, is one of the toughest physical challenges. Even those who failed had the guts to get back up and try again.

I wanted to do one, thought it would be good to do one for my 50th birthday, checked out the possible events and in November that year found myself stuck in front of a computer waiting for entries to open for Ironman Florida 2007. In the event I managed to get myself, my wife and one other athlete entered before the event sold out in 45 minutes. That was the easy part now to try and get fit enough to get to the starting line.

I got a new bike and started to cycle to university and also did an occasional cycle training run of about an hour, and started to run building up from 2 to 5 miles but after every training session I had to allow a couple of days for my back to recover.

In February I managed to complete an Audax ride of 67 miles on hilly terrain and thought that things were progressing reasonably with the bike. Of the three disciplines I reckoned I was probably strongest on the run and was listening to general mutterings about doing lots of biking as I was unlikely to run much of the marathon anyway.

So I had 9 months to go and had cycled more than half the distance it was time to try and see if I could master the swim. Only problem being that while I was reasonably competent at breast stroke I ended up just thrashing the water when I tried crawl.

Time to get some help. I approached another forumite who agreed to give me some lessons and we started to meet up one morning a week for an hours coaching. I think he, like me, was probably thinking that I had no chance of getting up to a reasonable standard but we persevered for a few months.

In May I went to Lanzarote to support the pirates and I did a bit of wetsuit swimming with some coaching from a couple of Pirates and a bit of cycling. I came back thinking that with a wetsuit I might just manage the swim.

In June I went to Bala to try a half IM distance and dropped out of the swim after 800metres - my arms were working fine but my feet were dragging along the bottom of the lake - I did complete the bike and run sections (thanks to Symes dragging me along for the last couple of miles) but my confidence was now at an all time low.

Back home and time to sign up for some proper swimming lessons! I did a course of lessons which took me back to basics with the swimming and eventually I started to show some improvement.

My training was still sporadic to say the least with the occasional run and bike ride followed by a couple of days rest while my back recovered.

Eventually I toed the line for the start of the Vitruvian and completed my first triathlon in last position - things were really looking promising for Florida!

A bit of swim coaching from our local club pro saw me doing a 3k swim in about 1hr 20 and a few more bike rides saw me into mid September. I was starting to feel a little bit more confident. Got a new bike and found that my average speed increased by about 1-2mph so things were beginning to go my way. Unfortunately I was starting to have problems with my right shoulder so decided to back off on the swimming rather than risk it getting worse.

Went to Spain and completed a 90odd mile ride at an average of about 15mph so it was beginning to look as if I might finish.

Got back from Spain with a week to go before leaving for the States and went out for a ride on my new bike only to fall off leaving me with a knee like a pound of mince, my shoulder bothering me more, and a cracked set of carbon bars on my pride and joy. Off to see my friendly local bike wizard to see what he could do. There was no chance off getting replacement bars before going to Florida and he was unwilling to fit new bars as this would change my position so he effected a temporary repair with a jubilee clip to try and stop the crack from spreading and hold my brake lever in place - fingers crossed this would see me through but I was a bit nervous about it to say the least.

So here we were setting off on the big adventure and I felt well prepared and confident. Well not exactly - I had hoped when starting out to gradually increase my training to regular 10+ hours a week, including a couple of 100 mile bike rides and a couple of 15 mile runs. In the event I had managed about 2 weeks of about 10 hours training, one 90mile bike ride, a total of 3 half marathons (Bala, Glasgow Half, and the Vitruvian) and 3 swims of 3km, but could do sod all about it at this stage.

We set off for Florida 2 weeks before the race and picked up our hire car, which luckily was about the size of a minibus. We were able to have the bike boxes, our luggage and 2 assembled bikes in the back of the car and still leave room for a few illegal immigrants. We spent a couple of weeks doing touristy things before heading up to Panama City Beach. OK - I spent a couple of weeks doing touristy things with an occasional bimble on my bike, while Deb spent a couple of weeks doing 3 hour bike rides, 2 hour runs and lots of hours complaining about Krispy Kreme Donuts, Disney, strip malls, petrol guzzling monster trucks and all things American.

We got into PCB on Tuesday and over the next couple of days got ourselves orientated, massaged, dipped our toes in the water, met up with other pirates and shopped at the very low key expo for last minute bike stuff (I decided on a XLab back of the saddle system instead of putting a bottle on my bars - this would turn out to be a wise move but more of that later). I tried to get a bit more advice regarding my bars but ended up with bike mechanics sucking there teeth and shaking their heads (I could see they were thinking "poor sod doesn't stand a chance" but didn't want to say it out loud).

Eventually Thursday came round and time for Registration. I knew from accompanying Deb at previous events that this was going to require some careful planning…..

We rolled down to Registration and met up with FB and Petal who advised us that our BTA licence was worthless in the States, hey ho just one more little irritation.

I looked around at the others who were registering but I had prepared for this …..
OK I will see your Norseman and Lanzarote finishers shirts and raise you a … "PSOF" shirt with "Bryan the Snail" on it. I could see that they were trying to look unconcerned but secretly calculating whether they could now get their Hawaii slot on a rolldown.

We returned to the room where we started to prepare our bags and bikes for racking the next day before going out that night to the race briefing.

The race briefing followed the athletes' banquet and was one of the worst events I have attended. I reckoned that the athletes were a last minute second thought after sorting the meal and entertainment for the VIPs and sponsors. I reluctantly stood while the compulsory poor singer warbled through the star spangled banner (Deb was concerned that the local Klan might come hunting for us if we didn't). We tried to decipher what was being said but the sound system appeared to be optimised for those who were 3 feet from the stage. Still the food was free and reasonable even if you had to queue for half an hour to get it. Having sat through that lot we adjourned for a little calming beverage.

Friday dawned and I went off and swam a lap of the swim course, managing to sight reasonably for the first time and give some sighting tips to a bloke who kept swimming across the front of me. I got round in about 50 minutes so things were looking better for Saturday.

I then went back to the room and faffed about double checking my bike and bags for racking that afternoon. This turned out to be more nerve-wracking than I had anticipated. Fortunately I had a secret weapon, in the form of Deb, whose experience helped keep me from going completely into headless chicken mode.

Bikes and bags duly racked Deb and I set off for a drive round the bike course. This might have been a good idea if I had felt more confident about the distance but all I could think was that it was a f@cking long way to drive never mind cycle. We noted that there were a couple of exceptionally long straight stretches which I reckoned might be a bit demoralising but failed to note how poor the road surface was going to turn out to be on a bike. The few climbs were really of no consequence but the wind might be a bit of a factor, thankfully the forecast was looking good at 5-10mph wind from NNW - if that was the case then it shouldn't be too much of a factor.

Back to the room and the condemned man ate a hearty last meal, well a meal at any rate. Then off to bed in a vain attempt to get some sleep before the big day.

Race Day
I got up with the lark - f@ck sake, not really - the lark was actually still rolling home drunk from the previous night. Tried to convince myself that all was under control and going to plan - only problem was I didn't know what the plan was. Got the coffee on and started to have breakfast in the hope of wakening my bowels before I set off down to the start - a vain hope, unlike KK my bowels decided to go on a "go slow" for the rest of the day but I didn't know that and it was something else to fret about (visons of trying to get rid of one while in a wetsuit being chased by Jaws were swimming through my mind). Checked out the special needs and dry clothes bags, prepared my secret weapon for the bike, then rolled down to transition for body marking.

Got into transition and asked the helpers if there would be water and Gatorade in transition when we finished the swim and was told that there would be water but no Gatorade. I had brought water down with the intention of putting it on my bike if there was none available and the backup of putting it in my run bag with a couple of Nuun tablets for when I finished the bike if there was going to be water available. OK that was good - it meant I would get water to dilute any excess saltwater I had swallowed in the swim and I had some electrolyte drink for T2. Deb said that she would go and sort her stuff and join me back at my bike to help me finish getting sorted. In the event I had my bike sorted, body marked, had put some waterproof factor 30 on got my wetsuit half on and was needing to go and sort stuff in my race bags before she reappeared. She then needed to join the queue for the loos so I left her to it while I sorted the rest of my stuff putting last minute things into my bike bag and the Nuun drink into my run bag, and got her as she came back and off we headed to the beach.

Joined up with Petal and FB on the beach and saw Mel. The wimps amongst us made our way over to the far right away from the melee and I declined the opportunity to go into the water to warm-up, reckoning I would find out soon enough what it felt like. We had the compulsory flag waving, annoying inspirational announcers and then watched the pros start. We were going off 10 minutes after them, which as far as I was concerned was just another 10 minutes to allow the nerves to build up and worry about what I was getting into.

The cannon went off and we ran into the water, well some of us ran into the water… Deb and I ambled in at the back pausing for a goodbye kiss - for all I knew it might be the last one ever. I got up to a depth where I couldn't justify wading any more and started to swim, then swam a bit more, and a bit more after that.

I felt surprisingly relaxed and thought that I was going along quite well. I did start to get annoyed at a couple of swimmers who would sprint across the front of me, stop to get their bearings then sprint back across me zigzagging their way up the course, and if I had felt more confident would eventually have swam over the top of them, instead I consoled myself with the thought that they were using more energy than I was. I got up to the turn booey, as our American cousins call them, and was slightly annoyed that the canoeist was trying to push us left to join the rest of the swimmers who were cutting the turn instead of swimming around it as per the instructions, but I did concede to swim closer to it than the 5-10metres I had intended giving it - it would have been pointless as there was no crush with the numbers who were cutting the course.

I completed the next turn and set my sights for home and before I knew it the first lap was over. I got out of the water and looked at the clock - I remember looking at it but can't for the life of me remember what it said, it just didn't seem relevant, I knew I was swimming within the cut-off if I could just keep going. I grabbed a cup of water, sprinted across the sand - well - not really - more sort of wandered across and in to start the second lap.

The second lap was more of the same - I was getting into a rhythm and relaxing - just keep turning the arms over - my shoulder seems to be doing OK - that's good - sight regularly enough not to go to far off course - don't worry about the shark - WHAT SHARK? WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT A F@CKING SHARK? - Calm Down - it's only that idiot who can't swim in a straight line crossing behind you this time - OK there's the booey (Hey I can speak yank!!)- turn round - there's the next one - I think I will breathe every 4th stroke - now I will breathe every 6 - this is fun I am going to do every 5 - OK I will go back to every 2 - oh there's the beach - is that it over that wasn't too bad then. Look at the clock 1 hour something - hey that was pretty good - I made the cut-off!! Turns out I did 1hr 44m - well chuffed!!

Walked up the beach to get the wetsuit off and felt sorry for the helpers as I was a bit wobbly on my feet and every time they tugged to get my leg out I tottered about almost falling - I should have just lay down and let them get on with it but I wasn't in that much of a hurry - I wasn't really chasing a time.

Into T1 feeling ecstatic - I had got the bogey out of the way - now just keep calm and don't make any mistakes - I wasn't going to gain anything by rushing transition and if I got it wrong I could ruin my chance of finishing. Going on what I had previously been told I asked one of the helpers where I would get water only to be told I would get it at the aid station 10miles in. "Hey - Wait a minute Jimmy - that wisnae ra plan!!" "OK it's not their fault and they are only trying to help you can manage without it."

Right - I wasn't getting water - what did I need to do? I tipped my bag out on to the ground to look at what I had. Didn't need painkillers or ibuprofen gel on my back so top up the sun cream then put my monaco on. There's a number belt I should probably put that on as well, Oh and a bike helmet, and shoes, they would be a good idea - Oh I have socks inside my shoes and a towel to get the sand off my feet - hey this transition lark isn't so difficult after all. What have I got left? Glasses - they would be useful and so would those gloves. Right what now? This is easy - I'll put that food and some painkillers in my pocket and off we go. Hey there is even a nice man to take my bag away for me.

Went to run out of the tent and stopped - hobbled awkwardly out of the tent - this was only my second time on proper cleats and I was finding that they take a bit of getting used to - still there was a nice lady getting my bike for me so I could wobble over to it and have something to hold onto. Wobbled to the mount line where I was told "Mount your bike" I asked "Do you really think I can?" but got on and off I went.

My strategy for the bike was
A) don't go too hard
B) be back in transition before 5.30pm
C) try to keep my average speed above 15mph
D) don't forget to eat and drink.
B was made easier by being on the bike about 30mins earlier than I expected so that one shouldn't be too difficult. I started on D by digging into my bottle filled with diluted gels - didn't know whether to chew it or drink it.

Things were a bit more strung out at the back of the field than others reported nearer the front so there were no real draft problems (should that be opportunities?). I managed to pass a few cyclists with woodpeckers and disc wheels - that made me feel good. Got to the hill/bridge and went past even more folk who were struggling up it - thank god for Scottish cycle routes. Eventually got to the aid station at 10 miles - OK I needed to take on water and Gatorade but hadn't really had any practice at this sort of thing and if I got it wrong I had a long way to go before the next aid station so decided to stop and make sure I got what I needed. I adopted this strategy most of the way round stopping both to make sure I got what I needed and allow my back a respite from constant pedalling - this allowed people to pass me again but made it interesting wondering how long it would be before I caught up and overtook again.

I got to 40ish miles and was happy averaging about 17-18mph - I knew that I would be slower in the second half as I would be pushing against the wind. Time for the first instalment of the bike secret weapon - The Cheese Roll, well I hate Marmite, I really do! Did the loop on the bike vainly hoping to see another pirate for a bit of encouragement but made do with Howie and Jenny who had been playing tig with me all day.

More of the same for the next few miles then turned round and headed back into the wind and one of the worst road surfaces I have ridden on - I felt as if I was on a real boneshaker of a bike - it was obviously taking its toll on the bikes as I was seeing numerous bottles, cages, tubes, CO2 cartridges and even complete back of the saddle systems lying on the roadway. The wind wasn't helping, I was down to 14-15mph and although I knew I was OK for time I was disheartened and cursing every minute I was on the bike. The rattling from the road surface got so bad that at one point I thought my front forks had split the noise coming from them was so bad.

Reached one of the aid stations not far from home (80 or 90miles?) to find the helpers all dressed as pirates. My back was bothering me a bit at this time so I stopped and got the supplies I wanted and did a few stretches while one of them held on to my bike. Chatted for a minute or two - apparently they have a prize (might have been $1000) for the best aid station and that group were going for their third year in row at claiming it. Going on what I saw they were probably odds on favourites.

Back on the bike and pushing for home - passed KK who was off his bike at an aid station for a pit stop. He was the first pirate I had seen since the swim started. Gave a quick shout but he obviously had other things on his mind at that time or just didn't hear me.

A short time later KK passed me shouting that it was not far to go now - he was right but it seemed to be taking forever - I just wanted the bike to be over. Rolled into T2 and looked at my watch to find it was about 4.15pm - note I wasn't using a stopwatch - I had decided that what was important was beating cut-offs hence I knew I had to be out of the swim by 9.20am and out on the run by 5.30pm etc. KK was in T2 when I got there and we exchanged a few words - he had obviously had a tough time with his guts but was pushing on and left shortly after I arrived.

I obviously lost a little time in T2 - OK I took enough time in T2 to make a pot of tea and a round of cucumber sandwiches with the edges cut off - to this day I am not sure where all the time went. I don't think I was thinking exactly clearly at the time. It was as if I my brain was telling me that because I got into T2 earlier than I expected I had plenty of time to dawdle about before my next appointment with the run course at 5.30pm.

I had my run bag with my bottle of water with the Nuun tablets which I had prepared that morning so I grabbed some painkillers - which I definitely needed by this time, popped them in my mouth then broke the seal on my water bottle only to have it spray the contents over me and my run bag like a bottle of champagne, leaving me sitting there, soaking wet (in a lukewarm sticky way rather than a nice cool way), with a mouthful of pills trying to figure out how that had happened - must remember to allow the Nuun tablets to stop fizzing before I seal the bottle in future. OK swallowed the pills and what was left of the water, rubbed on a bit of Ibuprofen gel and a bit of suncream - why for f@ck sake? - the sun was going down in an hour or two. Then sat down to organise myself for the run.

Went to put on my nice fresh socks and running shoes only to find they were soaking wet - must have been the exploding water bottle. Kept on shooing away the ever present helpers - I had come this far and didn't want them fussing over me causing me to forget something essential at this stage - apart from running shoes and the stuff I was already wearing I don't know what could have been so essential but that was how my mind was working. Anyway why weren't they hassling that bloke sitting at the back that didn't even have his run bag out? - Oh it's because he's finished and has won the bloody thing - that doesn't seem very fair - wonder if he would like to run the marathon for me as he looks in better shape than me?

Eventually stuffed a few gels and bits and pieces into my pockets and ambled out towards the run course - I reckon the helpers were glad to see me go, they were probably starting to think that I was intending to take up residence there.

I found my way on to the run course and started to feel better - I had over 7 hours to complete the marathon and reckoned I had the thing licked. I jogged along quite happily starting to see Pirates coming back at the end of their first lap, exchanging High 5's and greetings - a quick well done to Petal - I think we were both feeling very relieved at that stage knowing we were on target for a finish. As I passed the cheerleaders, one of them started to jog along with me asking about the Pirates so I gave her the potted details of PSOF and she later startled one or two Pirates by shouting "Piss off" at them as they passed. I got to about mile 3 or 4 and met Deb on her way back - quick kiss and update on how things were going - at this stage I was feeling pretty good and optimistically suggested that I might finish in about 15hours - shouldn't have tempted fate really.

Carried on jogging round stopping at the aid stations for water, an occasional Powerbar gel, or one of my own gels and got to about 5 or 6 miles when Dermott caught up with me stopped to exchange a few words and proceeded to have a major wobble. I told him that he wasn't allowed to stop now and there was no way I was going to be the cause of him failing to go sub 12, thought about threatening him with violence but he picked himself up and ambled off leaving me following at a more sedate pace. Got to the next aid station and found they were starting to hand out chicken soup - until that night I had never realised how much I needed chicken soup in my life but that and cola got me through the rest of the run. Saw Dermott on his way back to the finish and told him that the soup was there and he should get his hands on that and some cola - later learned that he had beaten me to it and was starting to pick up again.

I had an uneventful return to the finish line where I reluctantly turned round and headed out for my second lap. I got as far as mile 18 when my knees and back decided that I had run far enough and they were not going to co-operate any further but knew that I had plenty of time to walk the rest of the way. It got a mite lonely walking through the dark park to turnaround for the home stretch but I was buoyed up (should that be booeeyed up) by the knowledge that I didn't need to do anything special to finish and only needed to keep putting one foot in front of the other. I stopped at an aid station to sit and do some stretches to try and ease the pain in my back and legs which helped a bit but the way my knees were feeling I wasn't going to be running anyway.

I had various people for company for short stretches on the way back and eventually got to the cheerleaders who greeted me with a big "Piss Off". I stopped again for a quick stretch knowing that it was only a couple of miles to home. When I set off one of the cheerleaders decided to accompany me for a distance down the road holding my hand and telling me I felt cold - I assured her that back in Scotland this would be a positively balmy summer evening and that I was fine. She left me to go back and join her mates - thank god - I am not sure Deb would have approved of me walking into the finishing chute holding hands with an attractive young woman.

After what seemed like an age I got to the last straight and started to look round to see if there were any other finishers coming in. I had been steeling myself for one last jog to the line but waited for one other to pass then started picking it up as best I could towards the finish line.

As I got to the start of the finish chute I saw Deb and struggled to hold back the tears. She came over and asked if I wanted her to accompany me - Silly bloody question - if it took the last of my strength I would have carried her over the line with me. We started to make our way down the chute and there was Petal and Buddha in the crowd - I paused for a quick kiss with Petal and a hug with Buddha carried on down waving to Carl and Dermott then crossed the line pausing for a quick smooch with Deb.

Job Done!! And so was I!!

One of the helpers decided it was a good idea to hang a ton weight round my neck, stopped to pose for the finish photo, got the proverbial alcan wrap and a Tshirt and we were joined by Buddha, Petal and Dermott. I think Carl had gone off with his female company at this stage. Petal went and got me a slice of pizza which I did try to eat but my stomach wasn't interested and I sat bemusedly while the others checked the results that were posted before we adjourned to the bar. I thought that I would really enjoy the beer but I was so shattered I had to force it down. I reckoned it was time for me to call it a day so Deb and I got my stuff from transition and headed back to the room, where I had a quick shower and promptly fell asleep.

Hopefully some of this might help somebody at some stage when they are starting out and not sure what they can do. One of the slogans often bandied about is "Anything is possible" - I don't fully agree - just try unboiling an egg - but as long as you sit wondering whether or not it is possible for you to do it you won't find out.

Ironman is possible and you don't have to be superhuman to do it. I completed the swim without kicking my legs once - I still have to master the kick as I just end up flailing in the water. My bike was not speedy but the cut-off is such that a reasonable level of fitness will get you round - you just need to have done enough cycling to last the distance. The run is not as imposing as you might think. Completing (as opposed to competing) is more a state of mind than anything else. If you are not training for a specific time all that you really need to think about is training for survival.

So I was an Ironman albeit a slow one. It is not something that I accomplished on my own - I owe a huge debt to lots of people and I apologise in advance to those whose names don't appear - it is not because I don't value your input and support but because I have a crap memory at the best of times.

To Buddha a huge thanks for agreeing to mentor me - I didn't make as much use of your experience as you deserved but I had an in-house advisor that probably lightened your load - when I did need you, you were always there with the right response.

To Symes - thanks for getting me to the finish at Bala it was part of the confidence building that I needed. To Carl - thanks for your encouragement and inspiration with your own story of failures and successes. To Nic, TC, and my swim instructors and coaches in Edinburgh - I would have fallen at the first hurdle without your help.

To all the Pirates and supporters back home in Britain - with a special mention to Squishy and Crashie - thank you for your support and encouragement. I have probably mentioned elsewhere that at the time I felt it was an added pressure knowing everybody was watching to see how I got on, but it was also reassuring knowing that so many people wanted me to succeed.

To all of the Pirates that were in Florida - you made it seem possible in the last few days when I was having a bit of a flap - I will always think of you as my band of brothers - "We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; for he to-day that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile".

To Deb - … I should probably stop here before I end up using another 2 or 3 pages.

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