Ironman St. George
Considering the epic conditions and experience I took away
from this race, this could easily turn into a novel. However, due to my lack of writing skills,
time, attention span, and awaiting readers I will condense.
First off, thank you to the people of St. George, all the
volunteers, frat house crew, powers that be, race director, my wife and support
crew for making this one of the most memorable experiences of my life. I could
not have asked for a better situation surrounding an Ironman.
This journey all started about 5 months ago when I decided
to do Ironman St. George instead of my original plan which was to do Ironman Arizona
in November. My friend Eric
Kenny alerted me of his plan to do St. George as well as host a training camp
on course a couple months before. Though I am not coached by Eric, and am USAT
certified coach myself (http://www.balancedcoachingcolorado.com/), I owe a lot of praise to Eric Kenny and EK Endurance
Coaching (http://ekendurancecoaching.com/).
I feel very comfortable in my ability to
coach myself; however, it is nice to have an ear, sounding board, and some oversight
occasionally. This combo proved to be
instrumental in my success. The
knowledge we gained of the course and possible weather conditions while at the
training camp proved to be very beneficial. I
made the decision to focus on training with power earlier in the year as I felt it would be the
only sure way to truly learn and train at my thresholds. And ultimately aid in
my ability to get everything I could out of the bike while making sure I would
still have the legs to run. My game plan
has always been to swim with the lead group, try to minimize my time losses on
the bike, and to start picking people off on the run. However, this is easier
said than done.
After months of dedicated and well-thought out training, I
felt I had developed a solid race plan. I knew I was in good swimming shape, I was
comfortable with my threshold power on the bike, and my run was feeling solid. During my training I had made it a point to
get stronger on the bike while trying to maintain my run. I knew my marathon time would not be the
fastest, but in order for me to even try and compete I needed a stronger bike. So as race day approached I reviewed my
training data and was comfortable in my race plan.
Race Plan:
Swim: 58ish
Bike: 205 watts (5:30-5:40)
Run: 3:15-3:20
And hopefully do all this in around 9:45 and with a bunch of
prayer and karma to hopefully qualify for the Ironman World Championships in
Kona. Well as you will soon read, St.
George had different ideas.
Days leading up to the race:
Driving up to St. George was super peaceful, and just what I
needed. The new Tacoma was quite, sturdy, “ok” with gas, and my only companion.
Using talk radio as back ground filler, I just drove and pondered. It is an
enjoyable experience to me when left alone with just my thoughts. Before I knew it was
headed into the heart of St. George where I would meet up with the boys from
training camp and a couple other supporters and racers. We were all sharing a
rather awkwardly designed and furnished house, which came to be titled as the “Frat
House”. Not going to lie, at first I was a little apprehensive of bunking with
this many people of whom I did not know, as my normal routine consist of me
retiring into a hermit shell. However, I could not have asked to
share this journey with any better, more positive, supportive, enthusiastic, and
respectful people. The crew consisted of: Katherine-my wife, Casey- my brother,
Eric- friend and owner of EK endurance coaching, his wife Lindsay, BJ and his
wife Jenn, Joel and his lady Alissa, Joel’s parents, Mr. Brent Schoeb, and
honorable mentions Randy Mast and Krick. All great folks who added many fond
memories thank you!
 |
| Frat House Men |
 |
| Frat House Crew |
 |
| The Ladies |
Cheers to the “Frat House” and the folks who resided with
in!
Morning of the Race:
The days leading into the race I was feeling pretty
confident. Legs felt recovered, mind felt strong, and attitude was positive. I
didn’t want to express my confidence to the world in fear of what could happen,
but deep down I felt ready. Katherine
(my beautiful wife) just kept beating positivity into my head to make sure I
had no doubt running rampant through my thoughts. Personally I feel approaching an Ironman is very
difficult, my theory is that too much confidence can lead to disaster, so I like to stay
grounded and humble in my journey.
Confidence does build with a proper training regimen, and my training
had been better than previous races.
Race morning was typical: get up super early, eat breakfast,
drink coffee, re-check all your bags for the thousandth time, and get your mind
set for what lie ahead. The athletes
were bused out to the reservoir, which was interesting. I like being around my
loved ones leading into the race, and this messed with that routine. Even though I had BJ, Eric, Brent, and Joel by
my side, I still missed my wife. As we were being shuttled to the reservoir I
tried to relax and visualize the road ahead: where I was going to push it,
where I was going to recover and eat, transitions, etc. I conversed with BJ a good bit and his
constant support and positivity was great motivation for what lay ahead. Once
we arrived at the reservoir we all split up and headed into T1 to do our final
prep. I got my bike set and food ready. Now it was time to just relax and wait for the
swim.
THE RACE:
Swim-
 |
| Bering Sea? |
As we entered the water I noticed how calm the surroundings
were and remembered the temps were only going to reach 82, and the wind was
supposedly not going blow harder than 9 mph. St. George is a slower and very
difficult course, but these expected conditions were setting up to make a fast
race. I floated out and took my position
on the front line. The athletes kept floating forward and inching their way
further along the swim course. I stayed my position at the start line thinking
they would be called back, like at every other race I have done. However this was not the case today—the gun
went off. I was a little displeased being that I had given my competitors a
good 300 meter head start but what can you do? As we swam the first leg out all
was calm, but the second we turned the first buoy I was being slapped in the
face with waves and spits of water. It was like out of the blue I was lost at
sea; 3-5 foot swells, the wind was spraying the water from the crest as if it
were raining, and to make it worse my goggles were kicked off. This was headed south fast. However I told myself “this is what you asked
for, a tough race, now deal with it”, so I put my head down and tried to stay
smooth. The only problem was that you could not see where to swim; I would breast
stroke under a wave and float to the top of the next to try and catch a glimpse
of the next buoy. There was no rhythm to the waves so it made it very hard to
swim efficiently. I would swim 5-10 strokes get pummeled by a wave, try to
spot, and repeat. There were supposedly 300+ hundred people who were pulled
from the water. I consider myself lucky
to have finished the swim in a time of 1:08. The problem was that I figured
1:08 was not going to have me where I needed to be in the race, but as I ran to
my bike I noticed there were very few bikes gone. Maybe the swim was bad for
everyone…
Quick video of the swim conditions: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zKWdavNM0Tw
T1-
It happened
Bike-
As I was pulling out of the reservoir I kept reminding
myself to just stay calm, limit your losses and focus. My mantra for the
training leading into IMStG and on race day was a Latin proverb: “if the wind does not serve, take to your
oars”. Little did I know the
foreshadowing of my mantra. As we turned
right out of the reservoir the wind hit you from all angles, but mostly in the
face. I was tucked in the aero bars pushing 250 watts going 10 miles an hour. Immediately I was like holy Sh** this is going
to be a LONG day. I knew with these
conditions, conservation and race execution was paramount. As I regained my composure I just reminded
myself 200 watts, no matter the speed, terrain, or wind, just ride at 200
watts. My plan was to take the first 20 miles easier and slowly grow into the
race. I planned on trying the avg. 205 watts for the bike as I figured this
would put me in a decent position to run my way to a Kona slot. As we were
headed back to St. George and the major climbs, I was hoping the wind would
subside as most of the bike course is tucked in a canyon. But as I entered the
canyon the wind was staying strong and there was no sign of stopping. The
beauty of riding with power is that I don’t necessarily pay attention to the
external situations; I just stick to my power. I also know that though I am not
the strongest cyclist, I do know my watts/kilo is decent, and if people were
going to ride faster most of them would do it to their detriment. I reminded
myself that almost every person who passed I would most likely see again at
some point. The other problem that the
conditions introduced was fueling. I would be racing this race just as hard as
every other Ironman I have done, but it was most likely going to take an
additional hour to finish. I need to account for that extra calorie
expenditure, so I began taking stock of my nutrition and exertion to
accommodate for this extra time. As I came through the first lap I noticed that
I wasn’t around many people. I was starting to lap a good bit of folks, but I
didn’t seem to be around others that were on the same lap. I thought this could
be good or bad. It means one of two things: I am way off the back of the race,
or I am behind the really strong cyclist and possibly in front of the next
group. As the second lap rolled on, I
decided to lower my effort for the last 20 miles as it was getting hot, and I
knew the run was going to hurt. As I approached T2 I took stock of my
condition, I was still mentally positive, physically I was feeling good for the
conditions, and I knew I had a can of monster energy awaiting my arrival to T2.
T2-
It also happened
Run-
 |
| BJ |
 |
| Eric holding strong |
 |
| Joel with a little cleavage |
Heading out of T2 I was feeling decently confident. I wasn’t
sure where I was in the race but I knew there weren’t too many bikes in
transition. I told myself stay positive and wait and see where I was at in my
age group. At around mile two I saw my wife and brother, barely able to speak,
I muttered “do you have any idea where I’m at?” They had no idea what place I
was in because the tracking had been down all day so we had no info. Being that
I wasn’t sure of my position I ran strong and hoped for the best. At around
mile 3 I caught two guys in my age group who were running fairly strong, and this
made me feel as if I were doing pretty well. After the 1st of 3
laps, I saw Katherine again and she informed me that I was in 8th
place, and this was the spark I had needed. I cannot tell you how many dreams I
have had of just being in this position, just to have a chance to run myself
into a qualifying slot. I told myself you are exactly where you need to be at
this point in time. We still had over 15 miles to go and the race for me was
just beginning. Heading into St. George I had planned to try and get off the
bike in around 15th place, hoping that I could run my way up. So I
was doing better than expected and I needed to capitalize. Katherine kept yelling “Josh today is your
day”, so it was time to take to the oars! There were four out-and-backs, so you were
more than able to check out your competitors. I knew I had three more guys in front of me
that I was slowly reeling in. The only problem was that the two guys I had
passed earlier were still on my tail. I
had expected everyone to start blowing up by now and it was just not happening.
I just kept steady, one leg over the other, and before I knew it I was on the
final lap and still in 8th. At mile 21 I finally caught the last two guys.
I was meaning to stay behind them until mile 24 but by accident I cruised past
them at an aid station at mile 21. Once
I realized I was in what I thought was the last qualifying position, I decided
I had worked too hard to let this all slip away now. It was time for me to push
the pace and see if I could break away from those two guys. The hardest part of
the run was from the bottom of the 3rd out up to the end of the
diagonal, which was 3 miles (mile 22-25) up hill. I pushed it and never once
turned around, I was hurting bad but in no way was I going to show weakness. At
the last turn around at mile 25 I realized I had around a minute on the 7th
place position, but it could be bridged, so there was no letting up. I was
running with three years of dreaming, training, personal and family sacrifice
on my mind. You have done too much to give in now I kept telling myself. And
finally there it was, the finish line. I had given my all and had put myself in
a position to qualify. I can’t tell you the relief to have the race completed,
and to have it completed in the way I had visualized 1000+ times by now. I had
given it my best and all I could do was pray it was enough.
Post-Race:
After finishing, I lied in agony for at least 30 minutes.
Not really caring what was going to happen. The 30 minutes after an Ironman are
pretty rough, and you just have to wait it out. After spending some time
talking with some friends and other finishers, I decided it was time to get my
stuff and head to the house. At the house I had time to realize what was going
on. I either secured the last spot or was on the bubble slot. I knew in 2010 six
went from my age group, but last year it was only five. At this point the
nerves set back in; it was like I was doing another race the next morning. So…
I had a beer and tried to sleep.
Kona sign up-
 |
| Kona Qualification Sheet |
Katherine, Eric, Lindsay, my brother Casey, and I woke up
around 7am to drive to the convention center for our Kona fate to be decided. I
honestly did not want to look at the qualifying slots in fear of what I may
see, but I had to. Walking up slowly my stomach began to turn, and seeing male
30-34: 5 slots… So close, but missed by 1 position. Eric secured the last slot
in the 35-39, and I was 1 out. I was definitely
upset, but I was trying to be positive and optimistic about the chance of a
roll down. I headed to the sign up table
to find out. It was now 8:15 and the registration
for Kona ended at 9, so I tried to find out whether there might be a roll down.
Had all my competitors taken their
slots? I asked, and the young lady informed me that there were still two slots unaccounted
for. However I knew there were still 45
minutes between me and a roll down. Let the agony ensue. I paced the entire convention
center multiple times; I probably got a solid 5 mile recovery walk in. I was
too nervous to check, and I wanted to wait until 8:59 so I would know for sure.
But before I had a chance to re-check, my good friend Eric along with Randy
came walking up to me with smiles that spoke a million words. Eric went on to
tell me that I should check with the registration table one last time. As I approached
I wasn’t sure what to think, had I received a bout of luck that never seems to
be on my side? Had my dream of many years finally paid off? Was I going to
Kona? If so, did I have $775 dollars to pay for this dream? J The lady at the
registration table told me that the 5th place competitor already
qualified for 2012 and was going to let it roll down. I had done it; I cannot
explain in words what I felt. It is a moment I will never forget. I am getting
emotional just typing of it. I turned and made eye contact with Katherine and
she knew. I saw her eyes start to tear, and realized what this meant for her.
She has chased me all over this country time and time again, sacrificed much of
her personal life, finances, and emotions to only watch me bonk at mile 18. I
cannot express what it means to me that she stuck it out, it speaks volumes of
her unselfishness and her true dedication to helping me achieve my goals, and
this time it finally paid off. We had
done it; we are going to the big island!
I OWE THIS RESULT TO MANY PEOPLE, SO HERE IS A LIST OF SOME
OF THE FOLKS I FEEL SHARE A MAJOR PART IN THIS VICTORY: KATHERINE VAUGHN, CASEY
VAUGHN, MIKE AND TAMMY VAUGHN, RUTH AND CHRIS CAREY, MY TWO DOGS DAKOTA AND
HARPER, JASON, JULIA AND KELLY DAVIS, JOEY AND EMILY KLACINSKY, JAMES SHARPE
AND ELIZABETH WHITFIELD, TRIBELLA MUTISPORT, AND LAST AND MOST CERTAINLY LEAST J GOLDEN SWIM CREW MINUS
BRIAN REED AND SCOTT BRISTOL. THE LIST COULD GO ON FOR DAYS, BUT I BET YOU ARE
SICK OF READING ALL OF THIS…
P.S thank you Joel and Allisa for many of the pics. Want more check'em out here:
No comments:
Post a Comment