Race Report - Andrew's Ironman.. long

 I had some time at the airport and the plane, so I wrote a mini book to capture my day before I forget the details.  I am posting on Facebook too, so I have a piece in it giving some background on who Jillian and Dan are :)

It kind of hard to believe it’s over.  Ironman Louisville has consumed my thoughts and body for 10 months, beginning with my registration in early November.  Training, planning, dreaming, talking, blogging.. and then it came down to the actual event.  It’s hard to describe the emotions of the day – not to sound condescending or elitist in any way, but there simply has not been anything similar. 

We arrived in Louisville Friday morning, and immediately went to the Ironman village at the Galt Hotel to check in, and buy as much stuff with the m-dot as I could afford.  In the area, the atmosphere is electric.  The athletes have the same facial expressions, that look of quiet determination, and anticipation, mixed with fear of the Sunday ahead.  During and after the race, I was struck by the kindness and friendliness of the athletes, but in the days before, most of the athletes could be considered rude, if you didn’t recognize it as focus, and introspection.  I tried to be my friendly self, but even I was overcome with emotions, and the soul searching.  The constant voice in my head telling me I wasn’t ready, I hadn’t done enough, I wasn’t going to finish and most often, I didn’t belong here.  Staring at the toned athletes, with their dark skin and six packs showing through tight shirts, I certainly didn’t fit the mold of the average athlete here, but I was not alone, there were plenty of larger men and women – but no matter the body type, all of them had that same look on their faces. 

So I picked up my bike on Friday, dropped it off at the wheel rental shop.  On the way to transition, we ran into Jillian, my “virtual" training partner.  Jillian and I are part of a support group for formerly morbid obese folks, who now are into exercise and fitness, and we had both signed up for IMKY at the same time.  For both of us this was our first IM.   We would also be meeting up with Dan, also from the support group, a 2x IM finisher, aiming for his 3^rd, and one of my true original inspirations for moving into endurance sports.  The three of us received so much support from our other support group members!

So after getting all the bags packed and checked in at transition, setting up the bike with some hot Zipp wheels, Dan and his wife and Jillian and her husband and Steph and I with our two kids headed to get some good grub as our night before the race meal.  I really appreciated it as it really settled me down a bit.  We then went out and drove the bike course.  To me it looked difficult, but basically similar to the Hudson Valley where I had been training.  A few pretty tough hills, and lots of rollers mixed in, with a relatively flat final 10-12 miles in and out of transition. 

Race morning I was up at 4am, and at transition by 5am.  Then you have to walk to the swim start.  All in all, from the hotel to the swim start, we probably walked a good 3 miles, so it was more like a 143.6 ;)  IMKY is different than other Ironman because it is a time trial start, not a mass or wave start.  The athletes form a line, and your time starts when you jump in the water, off of two docks.  While the cutoff for the swim is 2 hours 20 from the last person in the water, and your time starts when you go in the water, the race ends at midnight.  So this means depending on your spot in the line, you might have less than 17 hours to finish, hence folks want to try to be up front who are slower (like me).  I was about midway in line.  The pro’s went off at 6:50, then they sang the national anthem.  The atmosphere was electric!  My heart was racing.  The cannon went off, and the line started moving fast.  Gave Steph and the kids a huge hug, and my day began!  It took about 10 minutes or so, and I was running down the dock and jumping in.  The water was very warm, warmer than the air.  I had no panic this time.  All that training in Minnewaska had me prepared.  Got right into my groove early on.  My sighting was ok, I veered off a few times, but was able to get back easily.  About 10 minutes in or so, I saw the kayakers going nuts, and the emergency boats going.  Found out later, an athlete had passed away near the start, very sad, I guess he had a heart attack and drowned – the athletes around him tried to save him, but it was too late. 

So the swim is 1/3 up the river in a channel next to an island, then around the other side of the island in the actual river for the final 2/3’s with the current.  Under a couple of bridges to the finish.  I had done some fuzzy math as I was starting, and had it in my head that when I went around the island and got to around where the start was, it was about halfway.  So I was growing along, and checked my watch at I was nearing the end of the island, and panicked a bit as it read 1:07.  I had to think a bit to realize actually I was cruising (for me anyway) as I was well past half, and actually at the 2/3 mark there.  The river had a potpourri of taste and smell as you could imagine.  The worst was under the first train bridge, where diesel mixed with the crud of the river was nearly intolerable.  I knew this was gonna play havoc with my allergies and sinuses.  But I swam on.  My head and neck started hurting real bad.  I think a combo of the goggles and swim cap on too tight, and no caffeine were the culprits.  I was so wanted to take those goggles off.  A lot of folks were swimming a direct line to the shore on the inside of the buoys, I thought this was not right, so I stayed right on them, I guess if I picked a straighter line I would have had a better time.  They pulled me up, I ripped off the goggles and swim cap and felt immediately better.   I ran through the gate and checked my watch – holy crap, 1:45.  I was aiming for 2 hours.  That was it – I was going to be an ironman today for sure. 

Transitions in the ironman are pretty awesome.  They treat you with white glove service.  I had a volunteer help me get my compression on, get me water, whatever I needed.  I took my time, 11 minutes or so.  Grabbed the bike, and I was stoked. 

The bike course starts out really flat, but still I didn’t want to hammer much, as it’s a long day.  My first bike split was over 17 mph, which I thought was ok.  May aim was 7 hours.  I had done 3 hours in the half IM in May, but given the longer distance and the hills I knew were there, I figured 7 was a good challenge number, and would set me up with plenty of time on the run.  The hills were definitely challenging.  From about mile 15 on, they didn’t let up until you were on the way back in at mile 95 or so.  Most were just normal rollers where I could make them staying on the big chain ring, but a few, especially later in the race, I got down into the smaller ring.  Part of the course is a out and back that is probably the most challenging part.  It was beautiful through the Kentucky countryside.  The climbs were tough, I was in my granny gear for a few of them for sure, and you couldn’t fully enjoy the descents because they had a lot of curves, and also I always seemed to be in a pack of people.  Nothing gets you madder on the bike, after busting you butt climbing, to be stuck behind some flatlanders riding their brakes.. I mean come on, we earned this descent!  I did get to test those zipp wheels on a few of them.  I hit 42 miles an hour on one of them, which is as fast I have ever gotten on the old Kuota.  Pretty intense to say the least, especially when you have riders coming the other way, and lots of folks in front of you you are passing, and a few curves.  I saw a few wrecks too, which is always a shame, but it is part of the game.  About mile 50 I had the first signs of things to come, when I had to make an extended stop at the porto-john.  The rumblings in my gut were a bit ominous… 

About mile 70 I decided I was about done with the hills.  By then I wasn’t in the aero much anymore even in the descents, as my neck and back were aching.  I just kept telling myself to get to mile 90 and then it was flat into T2.  I was granny gearing up every hill, and using Dan’s advice of just hammering as hard as I could in the descents.  This actually worked really well, and I noticed the other athletes that weren’t doing this and were recovering in the descents,  I was easily passing.  It did backfire on me one time, as I was hammering as hard as I could in my biggest gear, when the roller up came on me too fast, and it was too steep.. I couldn’t switch fast enough and had to stop mid hill… So then I had to get going uphill.. luckily I pulled it off so I didn’t have to do the walk of shame up the hill J .

Pulled into transition with right around a 7 hour bike.  With the stops I felt this was a great time.  Again the white glove treatment – they grab the bike for me, and escort me into the tent.  In changing, somehow I lost my racebelt.  Luckily I had a spare bib in my bike bag, so I pinned it on.  Truth be known, it had crawled up as I was changing under my compression and was there all along!  Oops!  In T2 I grabbed one of Cassie’s (My daughter) special cookies she had made me.  It overwhelmed me.  I also started thinking about the conversation with my son the night before.  Both had really supported me, and were proud of me, and it really uplifted me to think about it.  A cookie never tasted so good J 

The run starts out crossing a bridge over the Ohio river, the very river we swam in 7 hours earlier.  For me, this was the  best part of the run.  I felt great, and was cruising at a 12:30/mile pace, exactly where I wanted to be.  I was feeling strong, and at this point feeling pretty confident that this was really happening for me.. but there was a lot of  race left.   After the bridge you run through downtown, with a lot of crowd support, which always gets you going, and then you start the 2 loop portion.  Its basically  an 11 mile stretch out and back on the same road, through some fairly seedy neighborhoods.  During the day, not so bad, at night, it would get a little concerning J 

About mile 3, I was still cruising ok, when the stomach starting screaming at me.  I was going to need to hit the porto-john in a hurry.  From then on, I wa****ting the potties every mile for about 4 or 5 miles.  That wasn’t too much fun.  Early along the first loop out, I saw Dan, which was awesome – he was looking really strong, and a good 11 miles in front of me, so I was stoked that he was having such a great race.  I knew I’d see him again given the loops, so it was another thing to keep my mind occupied.  I still hadn’t see Jillian – I thought for sure I’d see here on one of the bike loops, either passing me one way or another.  I actually started to worry a bit, hoping she was doing ok.  About mile 8 or 9, I wasn’t running to the potties anymore, but my gut was shot and I was feeling really nauseous.  The legs were beginning to tell me they were close to the end as well.  I was jogging ok still, and walking the aid stations, but I decided I was going to just start a walk/jog pattern to try and conserve myself.  About mile 11 or so, my GI issues were primarily in a gaseous form… embarrassingly enough I was making some noises, when I hear “I heard that" from behind me.  Jillian cruised on by looking really strong.  I knew she was gonna rock the run.  Apparently, she had been right behind me throughout the race – she had a 15 minute better swim, but was further back in the starting line, and I was just slightly better on the bike (probably only because I had trained in similar terrain and was used to the gear changing for rollers like that).  It was a great feeling to know the three of us were gonna finish this thing. 

The loop comes back into downtown, and runs you literally within feet of the finish line, where you can hear him calling people Ironman, and hear the crowds cheering so loud, but you loop to the right to do another 11 mile loop.  You might think its disheartening, but actually, to me it was really uplifting.  I knew it was gonna be my turn in a few hours.  Plus the crowds cheering so loud for you, it was electric. 

I saw Steph just as I was heading in to the downtown spot.  Was great to see her and get a needed hug.  I must have  looked awful as she told me she was worried about me finishing.  I told her to meet me at the finish in a few hours, I’d be there. 

The funny thing about an ironman for me, is there was no mile 18-20 “wall" like in a marathon.  In fact, at 18 I felt awesome as I was thinking “under a couple hours and I will be an Ironman!".  My legs were completely shot by then, my gut hurt, and I couldn’t really think of any body part that didn’t hurt (I was running with a guy and neither of us could – we both spent about 15 minutes describing our ailments J  ).  I had lots of energy still, but the legs just would not cooperate.  I saw Jillian one last time as she was on her final stretch heading to the chute, high fived her and told her to run to glory! 

The last few miles it was dark, and quiet.  There were far less runners now, and not too many folks cheering out from the downtown area.  It was kind of peaceful in a strange way.  For a while there was no one around me, and I just thought back through all that training to get here.  What a glorious ride.  I guess Ironman training is more about the mind than anything.  Its about getting you ready to deal with 13, 14, 15 and 16 hours of pushing yourself.  So mentally, I was in great shape with 5 or 6 miles to go, but the body..well, the body was shot.  But I pushed through.  I went from jogging half and walking half, to mostly walking.  By the time I hit mile 25 I was toast.  My mind was drifting, things were blurry, I was beyond aching, and every time I tried to run, pain shot across every inch of my body.  I decided to just walk it in until I got to the chute, and save whatever I could so I could run down it in glory.  Everyone those last few miles had the same struggles, but everyone kept encouraging each other.  Always a kind word as someone passed or you passed someone.  We all felt the same way, I suppose.  I knew I was aiming for a 15:30 finish time.  I was ok with that, my main goal had been under 16, though I had secretly hoped for 15. 

Finally, I could see the city, and could hear the finish line.  You make a left turn, and then come around the corner, and there it is!  Lights, huge crowds cheering loudly!  And Mike Reilly calling folks Ironman!  This was it!  I picked up to run, and it got so loud!  Mike announced “Andrew Miceli, Montgomery, NY.. He lost 165 pounds to train for this race..  Andrew…  YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!".  Wow.  What can you say, I was bawling like a little girl.  I had done it.  I had climbed my Everest. 

Gave the fam a huge hug at the finish.  Luckily, we were staying at the Hyatt, literally at the finish line.  We went straight to the room, where I took care of lingering stomach issues ;)  and got some pizza.  And for the first time all day, let my heart rate settle down.  What a day.

In the morning, walking around downtown was great.  Other Ironmen, with the same limping and bowlegged walks nodding at each other with the look only those who have done this can really understand.  

Thank you for taking the time to post such a great race report. I am soooo happy you finished! You are an inspiration to a lot of people, especially me!

Way to go IRONMAN!

So, I'm new to this part of OH and this weekend has been my first time really posting over here. But, I just wanted to tell you that your race report brought tears to my eyes. (I've got some PMS I think!) It was just so honest and wonderful to read. I really, really hope to be where you are one of these days. I've been working on my Couch to 5K workouts - starting week 7 - and honestly, ever since I saw the Ironman Championships on TV more than 20 years ago, it was always there in the back of my mind that I wanted to do an Ironman. Now that I've seen people who were like me completing them, I feel for the first time that it's possible.

So, a big congratulations on becoming an Ironman!

Incredible inspiration! Bask in the glory. I should be good for a few monts just remembering your awesome report and journey.  Doesn't seem like there is much left for you conquer at this point.

 Thanks Rob, You have been one of my original heros for sure :)

I don't have PMS and I'm nearly crying reading this!

Thanks for such a great race report.  As I watched your splits come in throughout the day I got worried when I saw the slow down at the end, but I knew you'd finish - especially when Dan posted that he'd seen you on route. 

I'm so thrilled you fulfilled this dream!

 we're gonna rock Goofy!   Thanks for worrying about me, I felt the love out there!  :)  

 Wow Sue, LOVE LOVE LOVE the new avi!

Fantastic story, thanks so much for sharing!  Congratulations!

 

Your awesome bro!!!!!!! Way to rock it!