Challenge Roth 2013 – the Good, the Bad and the Ugly.

(Update August 2013 - Pics added, click any one for a slide show)

Pre-race nutrition

Pronounced “rote” by the locals, “wroff” by the Brits, Roth, a small town in Bavaria is host to one of the most iconic ironman-distance races in the world.

It’s big, with 3000+ competitors; it’s popular, selling out a year ago in 45 mins; it’s a spectacle, with awesome organization and razzmatazz; plus it’s fast - world records are held here.

Dawn in T1

My A-race for 2013, my third ironman-distance race, and the plan was to break the 10-hour mark.
 

First the ugly. We recced on Friday, driving one lap of the bike course. This got me excited – rolling terrain through farmland and forest, tarmac smooth as marble. A few sharp turns in some of the villages, a few climbs, but nothing to worry about.

Calm before the storm

Except one thing: at 45k & 130k, three hairpin bends on a fast descent. Straw bales strapped to the metal barriers scream CAUTION. Lap 1, I’m approaching the first, sharp and down to the left, I move right to turn as wide as possible, I’ve scrubbed my speed.

Just before I initiate, a big guy hurtles past me, brakes hard, tries to turn but back wheel locks, releases brakes, straightens ups and slams into the straw bales. Over the handlebars, over the barrier and into oblivion.

Crowds gathering on the far side

Meanwhile, my only safe option is to complete the turn correctly. Looking back over my left shoulder, the next two riders are pulling over. 

This all happens in a few adrenaline-fuelled heartbeats and gravity is pulling me forward; I carry on. Moments later I feel guilty for not stopping & going back. I hope he’s ok, I suspect not.

Now for the bad. My A-plan was swim steady, 1:05, then on the bike, target an average power of 180W to yield a 5:15 split with enough in the tank for a 3:30 marathon. Add 5 mins for transitions, target time ~9:55. If things go well/really well then maybe 5-10 min faster run to give a fantasy time of 9:50 and a now-you’re-taking-the-piss time of 9:45.

Good views from up there!

Jacky’s encouragement at the bike-mount line told me that the swim and T1 had gone to plan. Meanwhile however, my Garmin 510 bike computer has gone to sleep; no worries just switch it back on. Ok, but it’s not giving me any power data – bugger. Fiddle with it for a couple of mins, no joy.

No worries; because I’ve had the odd power-Garmin hiccup in training, I planned for this. Evoke plan B and pace by heart rate, which has worked well in the past; target upper zone 2 with a cap of 155 bpm on the hills. But I’m not getting any heart rate data either. BAD Garmin!!

Swim well underway

After a few minutes pressing buttons I decide that (a) this is dangerous and (b) I’m wasting time and mental energy. So,  I evoke a C-plan: “feel and feed, feel and feed”, i.e. pace my effort based on feel and just make sure I take nutrition bang on schedule, forget about everything else.

The trouble with "feel" is that when you’re tapered and in race mode, going fast feels easy, at least it did for the first lap: average speed ~36kph – that’s on course for a 5 hr split – far too fast. Indeed, at ~100k it got tough; after that a lot of mental focus was required to keep the pace up and the energy bars down. End of lap 2, average speed dropped to below 35kph.

Swim exit

Due to stop-starting my Garmin I didn’t have an accurate time but clearly inside 5:15. However, having overcooked the bike, I was suffering and staring down the barrel of a “melt-down-marathon”. I’d blown it, dejection as I ride into T2!

But, ironman-distance is nothing if not an emotional roller coaster; dealing with highs and lows is part and parcel. So, never mind, press on.

Smoothly through T2, I’m on the run. Jacky again shouts encouragement. Start off very easy but what to do? THINK! Can I salvage this? And here comes the good; I look at my watch and hatch a new plan. It’s about 1:20 pm. My wave started at 7:05-ish, so the original sub-10 plan meant I needed to be on the run by 1:30. I’ve got a nice buffer, use it wisely. THINK!

The bike!

The A-plan was to build to 4:45k/min pace and hold for as long as possible, then start walking aid stations in the final third as the inevitable suffering began. The backup was designed for oppressive heat; revise pace to 4:50-4:55, walk aid stations sooner. Both should deliver a sub-3:30. Overcooking the bike meant that either could end in disaster: the C-plan on the bike necessitated a C-plan for the run.

I elected to deliberately walk the aid stations from the start, something I’ve never done before. Walking 20-30m every couple of km allowed me to lower my heart rate, stuff cold sponges in my tri-shirt & shorts and drink plenty of cold fluid to cool the engine. Hopefully this would allow me to recover from the bike.

Pushing hard on the bike

This wasn’t capitulation, I wasn’t taking it easy; in between aid stations I focused hard and I ran strong, keeping form and regularly looking at my more trusty Garmin 310 to keep my moving pace close to 4:45 min per k. But the deliberate & frequent walk-breaks broke up both the physical and metal effort, much like an interval session.

Start of the finish chute

And the strategy seemed to be working; 10-15k in and I was feeling much better, I’d had a few energy gels, fluids were going down easily, not too much sloshing about, a quick pee stop told me I was hydrated. By the half way point I started to minimize the walking, grabbing sponges on the move and stopping only seconds for a mouthful of coke.

Home!

As I approached the 29 km marker I felt awesome so put the hammer down. This doesn’t necessarily mean I got faster, but by increasing perceived exertion I aimed to maintain pace or at least slow any decay.

With 5 k to go I was hurting real bad, calves could pop any moment. But I stayed relaxed: “You’re deep into an ironman, of course it hurts”. Plus, I took satisfaction from beating my local competition. Early on, my walk-the-aid-station approach, meant I was overtaken quite a bit – an unusual experience ;-)

Bag collection

Between stations, I’d catch up, then as I cooled and refueled, they’d get a lead on me. But not by then end; in the last 10k they were walking and/or slowing dramatically – I left them all behind. Apart from relay runners, I remember only 1 guy that I didn’t re-take.

The result

And finally, the finish chute appears, Jacky is there again, cheering me on. No idea of the time, well under 10, did I see a 9:46:xx on the screen, or maybe that was someone else? I’m destroyed, I don’t care, shuffle through the finisher’s area, an emotional moment by myself, find somewhere to sit, head bowed, mind blank, don’t move for ages.

Finally muster the energy to move into the finisher tent, massage tables full, see bank of computers with race results, type in 1168 – click Stephen Taylor – 9:41:25 – un-frickin'-believable!

Just goes to show; sometimes things work out for the better when they don’t go quite to plan.

Official splits: Swim (1:04:57), T1 (2:54), Bike (5:07:15), T2 (2:02), Run (3:24:20).