IRONMAN FLORIDA - Drafting, Cheating Fucks - Bike

BIKE – 112 miles


2 Lipodrene
3 Advil
I had remembered my training ride on this course, and how I’d sort of nuked my village on it by going to hard at the beginning. Similarly, every piece of advice I read on biking this course told me to avoid the temptation to fly on the bike early, so I decided to pace it a little.

By this, of course, I mean passing pretty much everyone I saw in the first 22 miles. I didn’t have the wind at my back like I did on the training ride, so I was doing a reasonable 22-24. But the funnest part was passing all these people on $5000 bikes with ease. I didn’t feel like I was pushing it either, like my quads felt fine. I was also encouraged that there wasn’t much of a tailwind, meaning I wouldn’t suffer on the way back like I had a month before. Then I hit the turn at mile 22.
The wind was blowing hard in my face, so much so that after about 5 miles, my back started to kill me. This is what happens to me in wind since it requires me to pedal so hard. Well, I went from cruising at 22 to struggling to get up to 20. I spent a good amount of time going about 14-16, as I knew this course was too long to expend too much energy fighting the wind. It didn’t help matters that my bike is not nearly as aerodynamic as the aforementioned $5000 bikes, and neither am I. I don’t have an aero helmet, and my shoulders are pretty fucking wide. Like a road grader going into the wind. Really not fun.

To make matters worse, all those people I’d passed had decided to form draft packs to combat the wind. Is that illegal in Ironman competition? Of course it is. And I wasn’t about to do It either, since I do have some integrity (I also don’t really know how to draft, but even if I did I wouldn’t. I don’t like cheating). But as struggled to combat the relentless wind, hundreds of people were passing me in scores of mini pelotons. I just kept looking over at them and thinking “You drafting, cheating fucks. How dare you.”

A little before mile 50, which marked the end of the windy section, we got access to our “Special Needs Bags,” which was basically a bag with any shit you might want halfway through the bike that you couldn’t pack. I threw in some Oreos, some gels, a Clif bar, and of course lots of Lipodrene and Advil and Salt tabs. I had been keeping to my one Lipodrene every 25 miles plan, even struggling to open the Ziploc bag while riding. But I took this opportunity to get out of the saddle for a minute and relax my back. It needed it. I was probably there a little over a minute before I pressed on.

About a mile later, we turned back south onto 231. But this time, there was no brutal headwind. Not only that, but it was a lot cooler than it had been a month earlier, and we got water every ten miles. It’s amazing the difference not being dehydrated makes on a ride like this. I was able to drop into aero on this stretch and do a solid 20-22 until the turn onto the real Camp Flowers Road. No dirt for me this time.

While I knew I was biking well, I also knew that the drafting cheating fucks were far enough ahead of me that I probably wasn’t going to catch them. Going back West II had the wind at my back,, and was able to go a solid 21-24 for most of that stretch, until the 7-mile down and back on perhaps the bumpiest road in Bay County. At the end, there was an aid station where I stopped to relieve myself, and again stretch out my back. It came at about mile 75, which seemed like a good time to take a break and another Lipodrene. So I used the bathroom, took my pill and had the rest of my Oreos, and pressed on for the final 38 miles. Just a trip down Hawthorne and back.

I kept expecting to slow down, but I just didn’t. We hit one stretch of about 18 miles from mile 82-100 that was not only closed off, but repaved like the week before. And a tailwind. It was like riding on silk. Just amazing biking, and I don’t think I dropped below 22 the whole time. Though I was happy to get to mile 100, I was sad to see that road go. But as I was on it, I realized that I had it. Like the 5+ hours I’d been on the bike had flown, I’d gone faster than I thought I would, and I was almost 2/3 done with the Ironman. I started to get a little sad, actually. Like this day was what my entire life had been about for the past six months, and it was almost over. I was happy with my performance, but I had under an hour left on the bike, then just a run to suffer through and then what? When I started thinking this, it was the only time I really slowed on that section. Then I told myself I could think about that shit at the finish line.

So I hit the Front Beach road, which is like the last 7 miles, and of course the wind is just brutal. I wasn’t overly concerned as I knew I was gonna average over 19 for the ride, so I just fought it a little and did about 16-18 on the way back. Then, at about mile 108, I got the worst gas pains of my life. Like it felt like a giant bubble was about to explode in my intestines. And it was funny, since Klueber had just asked me about the acceptability of shitting one’s pants during the bike section. I had decided I didn’t want to do that, and just gritted it out, promising myself I could demolish a toilet in transition when I got there. Of course, by the time I rolled up to the dismount line, the gas was gone. My dad and Trevor took some pictures as I got off the bike, I waved at them, and slapped Professor Limon, who works in my department, a high five as I went back into transition. Made the bike in 5:55, again slightly faster than expected. I was pleased.


T2 – Bike to Run – 8:45

Now that I was familiar with the layout of the transition, I found my way much easier. Of course, I was also a little more tired. So this time, I just walked it. Sat down, put on my black shirt. Took my time putting my stuff away. I think the volunteers in there were a bit confused, since this kid started laying out my gear for me. I was like “Thanks, but I got it.” He helped me out anyway, which was nice. I had a Vitamin water, took two more Lipodrene, a couple Advil, a gel and a salt tabs, and headed out for the run. I was right at 7:30 when I got onto the course. Breaking 13 hours was definitely an attainable goal.