IM Louisville 2013: Fate Catches Up

Everyone who races knows that, eventually, they will have a day when the body refuses to play along. It is inevitable. If we are lucky, it happens at a smaller, less significant event. If we are not, it happens at our "A" race, the one we've been training for all year.

Such was my fate at Ironman Louisville 2013.

After a very easy (and slow) swim, I got out of the water feeling fabulous and full of energy for the bike ride and run ahead. I was actually looking forward to getting out there on the bike, and eager to start the run. The helpful volunteer in the changing tent helped me get all my stuff sorted out, opened my lube for me, and handed me things as I needed them. I drank my Shakeology, which topped off a filling breakfast of two Core Powers and a protein drink made with almond milk and a peach, and I was out of there in a quick 10:45. While five minutes faster than the last time I did this race, it felt very relaxed and calm, and I was looking forward to the rest of my day.

Got deluxe service with two more volunteers slathering me from head to toe in sunscreen, found my bike, waved goodbye to Paula and Shirley, and took off. It was a beautiful day, just starting to heat up into the low 70's.

Things went well. As I expected, the first 22 miles were the fastest. This was the flattest part of the course, with only two big hills. The next 25 or so miles I slowed down about as much as I had expected, knowing it was going to be non-stop hills for another 40 miles or so. It was getting warmer, but I wasn't feeling particularly uncomfortable, and I was on schedule with my fluids and fuel. I made sure to sip on my carb/protein mix on a regular basis, and had stopped a couple of times to take water and some electrolyte drink, and stand up to stretch the legs a bit. Was passing lots of people on the hills without killing myself. So far so good. Gonna be a great day!

At mile 50 or so, the freight train hit. I felt like I wanted to puke. My legs lost all strength. I was consumed with an overwhelming fatigue. I started fantasizing about stopping, laying down in the grass by the road, and taking a 3-hour nap. What is going on? I sure hope this passes. I've NEVER felt that bad during any kind of physical event. I've felt mildly nauseas for maybe five minutes at a time when it's been particularly hot, but nothing that compares to this fatigue. I definitely wasn't bonking; I'd been taking in good calories all day. I wasn't trying anything new. All my nutrition was stuff I'd been using all summer. Did I start out too fast and flame out? No, I had kept a very reasonable and comfortable-feeling pace up to this point. Am I getting sick with something and it's just now hitting me? All I could do was keep going and hope it passed. But I had a dark feeling it wouldn't.

Around mile 56 (or maybe 58?), I pulled into an aid station and knew I had to sit down before I fell down. A wonderful volunteer brought me a baggie of ice, and I put that on my neck. Drank a full bottle of water and felt a little better. Got up and realized I probably should lay down for a few minutes. Laying in the grass, I put the ice on my side, and that helped quite a bit. Was finally feeling good enough to get up, go to the bathroom (well I guess that rules out dehydration, no?), and get moving again. By now, my focus was on making it to my food at special needs, which was mile 65.

I struggled more than normal to get up the hills, and tried to go as fast as I could going down. By now I was starting to get a little woozy, which was frightening when coasting down a hill at something like 35mph (I haven't checked my Garmin yet to verify). Going down one hill, I realized that the walls were indeed closing in, and it was all I could do to focus on the pavement immediately in front of me and holding a stable form, so as not to crash. I was very aware of making a conscious effort not to let the attention stray and do something stupid that would cause me to lose control of the bike.

Finally got to special needs. Called out my number, and yet another outstanding volunteer found me a chair and brought my bag of goodies. I drank another Shakeology, hoping the protein would at least alleviate this agony enough to get the brain back in gear. The volunteer was a man about my age, and he was feeling my pain. That poor guy tried his best to buck me up and get me pumped about doing the remaining 47 miles. If I had been feeling normally, I would have been thrilled to only have 47 miles left. In my current condition, I could only groan and thank him for trying. After I-don't-know-how-long, I got back on the bike and left, very slowly. Walking wasn't the problem, pedaling was. If I could just get myself back to transition, I could WALK the marathon if need be. If I can just get back on the bike.

But the legs continued to get weaker and weaker. It got to the point where I could barely pedal even on the flat sections. Since when is it hard to get 13mph on my bike?? What is going on here?

The nausea never really went away; instead it proceeded to get worse and worse, as did the struggle to focus. Finally, around mile 72 or 73, I stopped, laid the bike down, and sat down next to it, hoping to wait out the nausea. Some other cyclists came by (also going fairly slowly but obviously not feeling as awful as I was) and asked if I needed anything. I told them I was done and asked if they could please mention me at the next aid station. They promised they would and continued on.

I laid down in the grass by the road and promptly lost everything I had just put in my stomach. Several times. Damn. Is this ever going to stop? It finally did, and I sat up. Realized that I actually felt a lot better after puking. Maybe I can get a few more miles in and see how it goes?

At 75 miles, the legs totally gave out and refused to move the pedals any more. Well, crap. Whatever this is, it's bad. And it's not letting up. In fact, it's getting worse. There's no possible way I can do another 37 miles, even if it's flat, and it isn't. Found some shade, leaned the bike up against someone's mailbox out in the middle of nowhere, and sat down. Pretty soon a Sheriff's vehicle came by, and I let him know I wasn't needing EMS, I just needed a ride back to Louisville. Waited maybe ten minutes, and a race SAG van showed up.

[Side note: Another rider came up while I was getting into the van. She was going to hitch a ride because she didn't think she was going to make the bike cutoff. I told her she had plenty of time if she kept going, and it came out that she thought the cutoff was 5:30pm. She was very happy when I told her no, it was either 6:20 or 6:30, so she could definitely make the 37 miles by then. It was probably 3pm or so by this time, so she still had around three hours to play with. She left, smiling. I really hope she made it. I was too out of it to look at her number, much less remember it, so I can't look her up in the results.]

I climbed in the back, thinking I might lie down, and we headed for the next person to pick up. It was blissfully cool inside. Uh oh. I think I'm gonna puke again, and the windows back here don't open. Ack! Climbed up into the front seat and hung my head out the window. Is this misery ever going to end? The driver took my chip, wrote my number down, and called it in. Damn. I'm really going to DNF. I N-E-V-E-R DNF. Especially not at my one major race, especially not an Ironman! But I couldn't do a thing about it. This was not a matter of will power or mental strength. It simply wasn't happening today.

We picked up two more people who were having mechanical issues, and passed a third who was going back in an ambulance. I had to ask the driver to pull over once on the highway, but didn't get sick. I rode the rest of the way back with my head hanging out the window like a dog, wondering if I should have chosen the ambulance instead. Dear god, what is wrong with me?

Got back to transition, walked straight to the medical tent and laid down. Baggies of ice in the armpits and under the neck felt great. Answered a few questions (no not dehydrated, just peed an hour ago, yes BP is always that low, no a pulse of 60 when I'm not moving is not unusual, yes had plenty of fuel onboard until I puked). They watched me for a few minutes and as we chatted, it was obvious I was not in IV territory or worse. The nurse called Paula and told her where I was, and within a few minutes, she and Shirley rounded the corner. They had been waiting nearby, watching my splits get slower and slower, and they knew something was going on. Paula had even turned her phone up super-loud so she'd be sure to hear it, and was ready to answer any unknown phone numbers that called. We retrieved all my stuff from transition and walked back to the hotel. Stopped in the Starbucks in the lobby and got a vanilla frappacino, which was a little bit of bliss after feeling so awful for so long.

Showered, went to dinner, came back and napped until 10:30pm, then went back downstairs to watch the last hour of finishers. The last hour is the most exciting, as people push hard to get in under the 17-hour cutoff. I was happy to see a few people that had been in the back-forty with me on the bike successfully finish their race, and I'm sure I missed a few. It was good to see that they managed to get back in time, even though they were struggling for a while.

Felt fine after a decent night's sleep, and two days later feel completely normal. Looking back, I think I must have been on the verge of heat exhaustion or something like that. We've had a very mild summer in Indianapolis, and I've lost my hot-weather conditioning. (I was more prepared for heat in June.) One of the medics told me that the heat index had spiked right about the time I started tanking, and he wasn't surprised. I was caught completely off-guard, though. I did everything right: training, nutrition, fluids, pacing. I've done over 60 triathlons, almost 60 half-marathons, 15 marathons, and a slew of other distances, and have never felt anything like this. It took me totally by surprise. I'll be happy if I get another 10-year run of mishap-free racing, now that I've got this spectacular bonk (or whatever it was) out of the way.

Sadly, there are no more iron-distance opportunities this year that are not sold out, save one. It's $575 and in a state that I've already raced in...sigh. I'd love to do it, but hate to spend the money, again. However, I'm mapping out the rest of the tri/half-marathon/marathon season, figuring out which states to hit, and am grateful to be injury-free and able to plan more races.

And hey, no recovery time to speak of! All I did was an easy two-hour swim and five-hour bike -- didn't beat myself up on the run, so I'm ready to go work out tomorrow. Ha!

Ironman nutrition

I probably obsessed over nutrition more than anything else. I was extremely concerned that I not screw this up, because it can make or break your day.

How will I get at least 300 cals an hour in me when:

• I can't eat solid food while I'm exercising. It just won't go down.
• It must be portable and not heavy.
• It must be quickly consumed.
• It needed to be more than just carbs.
• It was going to be a warm swim (water was 84 degrees), so starting well-hydrated was mandatory.

I figured I'd be out there for 16 hours and some change. 16 hours on nothing but gels = very unhappy stomach. And not enough protein would mean bonking. I've learned over the years that my body really likes protein, and needs it for anything more than 5 hours, as opposed to just straight carbs. I also know that I get really, really sick of the sweet stuff.

I've been using Hammer Nutrition's Perpetuem for about two years, so I knew that would be a component. It's a carb/protein drink and is more substantial than a straight electrolyte drink. The plain flavor doesn't taste that great but it's not sweet either, so it's worth a less-than-yummy taste simply to get a break from the constant sweetness.

Infinit makes a custom blended drink and I really wanted to try that with some protein in it, but time grew short and I didn't have time to get it and train with it. I did however, have a blend that was primarily carbs/electrolytes that I was used to, so I stuck with that.

Shakeology drinks have worked out well for me this year, simply because they're a more complete meal replacement than a simple protein drink, and my body seems to process it just fine. I've had good luck drinking them about 30 minutes before a race and before training, so figured they'd be worth a try as a meal replacement during a race.

Enduralyte capsules are a quick easy way to get some electrolytes in you without having to drink all that sickly-sweet junk.

So here's how the race day nutrition worked out.

Breakfast, 4am. Oatmeal with dried raisins, one boiled egg (I apologize to any swimmers in line around me)
Swim line, 5:30am, yogurt
Swim line, 6:30am, Shakeology.
- Sipped on an Infinit drink for entire time in line until 7am.
T1, 9:00am, Shakeology, two Enduralyte capsules
Bike, over the course of 8 hours:
- went through two front bottles' worth of Perpetuem
- around 3 bottles of Perform at aid stations
- several large bottles of cold water at aid stations (stopped and drank the entire bottle on the spot)
- four gels, approx one every two hours
- another Shakeology at special needs, around 2:30pm
- piece of banana at two of the aid stations
- two Enduralyte capsules at four different stops
T2, 5:30pm, drank Shakeology for dinner, two more Enduralyte capsules
Run, over the course of 5.5 hours:
- three pieces of banana at three separate aid stations
- gel every 3-4 miles since I was moving slowly
- Perform 3-4 times at aid stations (less than one an hour)
- Water at every aid station. Yep, all 25 of them.
- Bottle of Perpetuem at special needs, mile 14. Carried bottle with me and took about an hour to drink it all.

I really wanted to avoid the cramping/hydration issues that take so many people down, and measured my hydration by the number of pee stops. Peed at T1 and T2, twice on the bike, and three times on the run. All was well.

Around miles 50-60 of the bike I had cramps in my side, but remembered the advice from Coach Patrick of Endurance Nation: when your stomach cramps, drink water to dilute all the other junk. It helps settle the gut. And it worked. Before long the cramps subsided. Ditto on the run - when the stomach got queasy I would drink some water and feel better. I know the constant influx of calories/water is why I felt so good all day. I heard someone puking behind me on the run and was happy not to be them.

...and it took a couple of days to be able to eat normal-sized portions of solid food again!

My first Ironman

Oh my, where to begin...I wish everyone could have as much fun for their first Ironman as I did! It was truly an amazing day.

I may have to break this up into several posts, because there's just so much to cover! This one will only cover the race itself. A friend started calling me the Honey Badger. To understand the Honey Badger references, watch the youtube video here:



About a week and a half out from the race, I found myself entering a very calm, very relaxed state. Sure I was still a little nervous, but I felt very confident and ready. I felt like a kid the night before the final: if you don't know the material by now, you're not going to know it during the test, so no use stressing out about it. Either I was prepared or I wasn't, the day was going to go how it was going to go. Best to just control what you can, and let the rest happen.

The night before, I did manage to get a little sleep, even if it was fitful. Had no trouble waking up when the alarm went off at four, and went in search of a microwave for my instant oatmeal. The promised microwave in the lounge was locked up tight, so I had to go back into the hotel kitchen to nuke my breakfast. It worked out fine, so no stress there. Met up with two of the three "Honey Badger Crew" in the lobby, and walked over to the bike transition area, where I put my liquids on the bike. Then we headed down to body marking and the swim start, a 3/4-mile hike. Got there not too much after 5am, but it looked like the line for the swim start was already pretty long. Oh well, I know there's still lots of people behind me, so no worries.

[The swim start at Louisville is a unique Ironman start. Instead of the mass free-for-all start, you get in one long-ass line, and jump off a dock every second or so. The time cutoff for the swim doesn't start until the last person enters the water, so if you're a pitiful-slow swimmer like me, it behooves you to get as near the front of the line as possible.]

We all hung out in line for the next two hours or so, chatting and relaxing. I felt like I had entered a sort of Zen state: I was incredibly calm, felt an inner quiet that I normally don't feel before any race of any distance, and was in a very peaceful mood. I just looked around and people-watched, enjoyed watching Elizabeth and Shirley people-watch, and hoped maybe Paula would get there before I started. She had driven back to Indianapolis Saturday to perform in a chorus concert Saturday night, and got back very early Sunday morning. She grabbed a couple of hours of sleep at a friend's place, and was coming in to find me before the race. She finally found us, about ten minutes before the start.

THE SWIM
The gun went off for the pro start, and we all gawked at their amazingly fast swim past us. Then it was our turn. The line was starting to move. Guess I'm really going to do this thing, huh? Wow. Can't believe it's finally here, after two years of planning and training. Holy crap.

Exchanged hugs with everyone, then the swimmers started our traipse down to the dock. The swim start went very smoothly, with people getting in quickly. I hopped in and started swimming. The Zen-like peacefulness stayed with me, and I had (for me) a wonderful swim. It felt great, comfortable, and not a struggle at all. Got smacked a few times, did my own share of smacking and crawling up over people, and was at the turnaround before I knew it. Yippee! Now I get to swim with the current -- let's hope it helps me out!

It did, and eventually I saw the final red buoy up ahead, signaling the finish. Wow. Really? I still didn't feel tired, was just getting a little bored with swimming and ready to move on to something else. Ok, it's show time. The first of a day of amazing volunteers helped us out of the water, I took a few slower steps to make sure I wasn't lightheaded from being horizontal for so long, and trotted off to transition. Honey Badger is out of the water!

Projected swim time: 2:00. Actual swim time: 1:44:03. Fabulous!

THE BIKE
Another volunteer handed my bike bag to me and I headed to the changing tent, where yet another volunteer immediately asked if I needed water or anything else and began helping me sort out my stuff. While I was in there, a conversation was going on about someone having CPR on the dock at the swim start. Uh oh. Apparently this happened right after I had gotten in the water. No one knew anything, but something bad had obviously happened. Damn. Hate it when someone's day goes so terribly wrong.

The volunteers in the changing tent are wonderful! They pick up your bag, start pulling stuff out of it and handing it to you. A volunteer was walking around offering tampons, and two of us laughed and talked about how happy we were not to have to be fooling with that nonsense today! I had packed a little towel and dried my feet off, pulled on my socks and shoes, helmet, drank a Shakelology, and headed out of the tent. There, yet another wonderful volunteer slathered me thoroughly in sunscreen. What a treat!

Easily found my bike and headed out for a very long ride...still feeling strong and calm. Wow, is this for real? Gave a thumbs-up to everyone, and took off.

Projected transition time: 15:00. Actual T1 time: 12:35.

As promised, the bike started out easy and got harder fast. The serious hills began around mile 18(?) or so, and never let up. However, I still felt great, and was thrilled to reach the first timing mat at 23 miles in an hour and 23 minutes. I was embracing the Endurance Nation philosophy of saving it for later, and was very pleased with how I felt. I'm not a strong cyclist and have definitely not done nearly as much riding as I should have, so I knew the hills would challenge me. I fully expected to have to walk up one or two. Much to my pleasant surprise, even when I was cursing the hills between miles 70-80, I was able to not only stay on the bike, but stay seated all but once. The only time I had to walk was when a series of cars refused to pass us as several of us were going up a hill, and didn't leave me any room to safely get by.

A cyclist was down at mile 20 by the side of the road, but someone else was waiting with them and the aid wagon was arriving just as I went by, so I kept going. Passed a lot of people with some sort of issue, be it flats, unhappy stomach, tired, whatever. There were aid stations approximately every 10 miles, so I stopped and stood up at every one. Twice I got off to use the portajohns. Once again, the volunteers were amazing. If you pulled over, there was immediately someone there offering to bring you water, electrolyte drink, banana, gel, whatever. For the portajohns, someone would grab your bike and hold it while you took care of business, then offer to bring you stuff. Wow.

Pulled over at the special needs stop around mile 65 and drank another Shakeology, and asked what time it was (there were no clocks on the course). It was 2:00. The bike course cutoff was mile 61 by 2:30, so plenty of time there. The volunteer captain told me that they were discussing extending the total race cutoff by a few minutes, due to the delay at the swim start. I asked how the guy was doing, and the volunteer just said "not good." Oh crap. Not another race where someone dies because they didn't know they had a heart condition. Sobering.

Held it together on the bike really well, just staying in easy gears and grabbing all the downhill free speed I could muster. I hauled it down the hills and crept up in granny gear. Oh well, I wasn't killing my legs, either. The crotch held up pretty well until mile 80 or so, then it began getting pretty uncomfortable. Only 32 miles to go, I can deal. Everyone had talked about how the last 20 miles were downhill, so I was looking forward to that.

All those people lied. Sure, if you look at the elevation chart it's all downhill, but reality isn't quite that pleasant. There's also a stretch of concrete road where there's seams every so many yards, and when you go over those seams you get bumped in the...yeah. If anyone had been near me it would have been hilarious, I'm sure. Every time I hit one of those seams, I was grunting and yelping with pain. It hurt, but it was even funny to me. What really kept me cranking was the thought that I was NOT going to do this again, so I had better make all the cutoffs and finish this darned thing!

FINALLY I see the Louisville skyline, and eventually see the volunteer pointing me to the dismount line. Thank gawd. SO happy to get off the bike. You regular century riders can keep it. I have no interest in spending that much time on a bike again. Anything over 3-4 hours is for the birds. Bleah.

Very happily got off the bike (and handed it to a volunteer who racked it for me), then realized I couldn't take a step in my bike shoes. One of them apparently was hitting a nerve, and walking on it was impossible. Didn't bother me at all on the bike, but walking was out of the question. Once again, the amazing volunteer realized I was trying to take off my shoes, and he said, "Let me do that for you. You don't need to bend over just yet." My hero. Walked down to transition in my socks, anxious to get back out on the road...on my FEET.

Projected bike time: between 7-8 hours, hopefully closer to 7. Actual time: 8:04:21.

THE RUN
Back to the changing tent I go. The volunteer once again pulled all of my stuff out and handed it to me one by one, and grabbed stuff as I was removing it and put it in the bag. We chatted a bit while she hovered to make sure I was ok. Asked her the time, and it was around 5:30. Damn. I really wanted to be back by 4:30. There goes another hour of cushion for the run. Oh well, get moving. Drank another Shakeology (dinner!) and headed out for more sunscreen. Wow, I still feel really good. Tired, but good. What gives? I'll take it.

Projected transition time: 15:00. Actual transition time: 14:26.

Said hi to my Honey Badger Crew, made it clear that I hate the bike, and started a slow jog. I was too tired to properly run any distance, but wasn't too tired to run a minute, walk a minute. Oh my, this is gonna take forever. Will I make it? I only have 6.5 hours to cover 26.2 miles. Yikes. I was really angry with myself for putting myself in a potential bind to make the cutoff, so I shortened the walking breaks to maybe 30-45 seconds.

...and passed the "Mile 1" sign before I knew it. Really?? Already? Wow. Maybe this won't take as long as I thought! There are two loops to the course. You do one loop, come within a block of the finish line, make a right, and head out for 12 more miles. I was hoping to hit that corner by 8:00pm. Before I knew it, I was there. Found my crew again, asked what time it was. "23 after!" "After EIGHT??" "Yeah!" Are you serious? Well hot damn, how did that happen? I now had 3.5 hours to cover 12 miles. Piece o' cake.

Kept up the run/walk routine, kept passing people that I never saw again, and soon I was at the 25-mile mark. WOW. I'm really gonna do this thing, it's really not gonna be a suckfest, and I'm really enjoying the hell out of it. What's wrong with this picture? Can everything be falling into place this nicely? I mean, everything? Not one thing went wrong, really. Pinching myself the last mile, I decided I was going to thoroughly enjoy that finish chute.

THE FINISH
Rounded that last corner, was blinded by the bright lights, walked to the start of the finish chute. Hit the chute, then took off in a sprint. Enjoyed the crowd noise, heard the announcer say it was my 50th birthday, did some high-fives with people as I went by, and smiled like a fool when I heard "Carla Happel, you are an Ironman!" Holy. Shit. I did it. AND IT DIDN'T SUCK. Am I dreaming?

Got my medal, another volunteer was immediately at my side guiding me through the finish area, found my crew and hugged them, got my finish cap and shirt. Paula handed me the most obnoxiously large helium birthday balloon ever and a dozen roses, and I got the finisher pic with those. Awesome!

Oh, did I mention that Macca (Chris McDonald) put my medal on me? How cool. That man is amazing. He won this race in 8:27:36. Inhuman.

We wandered around looking for some milk or something not-solid to eat, I spoke with my parents, then we went and watched some more finishers for about another 45 minutes. That was the best. These were all the people I had passed on the run course, who had just been too tired to even try running, and it was great to see them perk up, run in, and smile.

After that, the first order of business was a hot shower...

Projected run time: 6:00. Actual run time: 5:33:04

My total race time was 15:48:29...about 45 minutes faster than I had hoped.

Guess I'm an Ironman now, huh? Sure does feel good.