The Heat, Bee Strings, Nose Bleeds and Ativan - IMCDA 2015

Racing in the heat is never easy. Whether you're racing in a humid climate or in the dry air of Coeur d'Alene Idaho, your body temperature will run higher then normal, you will sweat more, work harder and ultimately race slower in the heat. It's not only a physical burden, but a mental burden as well. Knowing you have trained for months in an effort to achieve a certain pace on race day only to have your goal times thrown out the window for a realistic pacing strategy appropriate for the race day conditions. Heat was the story of the 2015 Ironman Coeur d'Alene for most athletes.

When I signed up of Ironman Coeur d'Alene I will admit it was done with some hesitation. Over the course of the past few years I have chosen to race in the latter part of the season, mainly because it's easier to train when the days are long and the weather is warm. IMCDA training doesn't provide that most years, but this year IMCDA did provide us with warmer training weather. If you were to apply the law of averages, could that mean on race day we were going to pay?

Ironman is a tough day. If your life demands that you pick a training schedule that is designed simply to get you to the finish or if you hire a coach, put in 20 hours a week never missing a workout and plan to compete for a podium spot, it doesn't matter, you're going to suffer out there. Even in perfect conditions Ironman will test your body, test your mind, it will test you metal. Ironman Coeur d'Alene 2015 did not provide perfect conditions. It was quite the contrary in my opinion.

I kept my eye on the long range forecast as the temps for race day continued to creep up. Now a long range forecast is just that a forecast so I rarely put much stock in them. Outside of 48 to 72 hours it's more of a guess then anything. Now that being said, I did follow them and as they trended up I wanted to do my best to be prepared. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. When it comes to weather hoping harder is about all you can do. So in the final two weeks leading up to the race I would shift my workouts to the hottest part of the day and I ordered some arm coolers with hopes of never using them. I had every intention of being as ready as possible for the forecasted temps. As it worked out I could never be fully prepared for an iron distance race at 105+ degrees.

With the rumor mill on overload I went about my race prep for a race 140.6 miles in length. Some of the forecasted temps for race day were as high as 109 degrees. If 109 were accurate, the question would become will they let us race at all. When you put 2000+ athletes out on course in a quest to conquer arguably the toughest single day endurance events on the planet and let them attempt it at 109 degrees, that's a tall order but that's not the half of it. You also have to consider the 3000+ volunteers and all friends and family that will be standing in the sun for an entire day. This race could not happen with out all those people as well. So the week leading up to the race, race organizers had a lot to consider.

Early in the week a desicion was made to start the race one hour early so instead of starting the rolling swim at 6:45 we would start at 5:45 a.m. As the rumor mill churned we heard everything from outright cancelling the race to cutting it in half or a 70.3 to a 127.5 where the run would be cut in half. Ultimately I would have been greatly disappointed if any changes were made to the distance and we were not given the opportunity to race the entire 140.6 but I knew if there were changes made it would be in the best interest of everybody involved and I was prepared to except any desicion and move on.

When the race starts an hour early, you get up an hour earlier which meant the alarm was set for 3:05 a.m. This would give us time to get prepped and out the door by 4 a.m. We wanted to be in transition by 4:30 a.m. allowing for what I like to call my Hour of Zen.

I last raced IMCDA in 2013. That was the year they introduced the rolling swim start and I wanted to hate it. I like the pageantry of a mass start. Let's line up 3000 athletes on the beach and when the gun fires it's survival of the fittest. The first 400 meters of a mass shore start is brutal. You have 3000 people standing on shore right next to each other like a hand full of pencils. Then when you lay those pencils down there just isn't enough space for them all. It's as basic as physics can get. You put 3000 keyed up athletes in the water where there just isn't enough space, you get broken noses, black eyes and dislocated shoulders. It's like trying to swim inside a washing machine. There are a number of forces and factors that are acting upon you and your fellow competitors.

Photo By Tricia Mack

In a rolling swim start everybody lines up according to what they believe will be their swim time. Much like the corrals at a marathon where like runners are grouped together, I lined up in the middle of the 1:15 to 1:30 corral. When the gun fired to start the race we all slowly move up the beach until it was your turn to go through the arch, crossing the timing mat and swimming away. The athletes are strung out right from the start so the combat conditions of the first 400 meters are greatly reduced or non existent in my case. Got to love the rolling swim start.

The swim was pretty laid back and I quickly settled into a rhythm. It's a two loop course and I exited the water after the first lap at 40 minutes and change, so I was on target. I took a gel at the half point of swim, it's a preventive measure after I struggled in a swim at IMAZ. As I crossed the timing mat and rounded the corner to head back toward the water I saw Nat. I asked how Bootsy was doing. She said her split was just outside of 30 minutes. It's always great to get a split to know how her day is starting.

The second loop is traditionaly slower for me so when I exited the swim just outside of 1:24 it wasn't a surprise.

Out on the bike and headed to Higgins point. The temps were low and the energy was high. I was sticking to my power and checking my heart rate. I knew later in the day as the heat increased my heart rate would also so I wanted to be sure everything was off to an excepted start. Race day adrenaline can push my heart rate up at the start only to settle after a few miles. Everything was great as I came back into town to the cheers of many friends and teammates.

I had taken a water bottle at the first aid station but as I headed out of town I hit a bump and it was ejected. No big deal I had two other bottles of Base Hydo electrolyte drink on board. Aid station number two, bottle of water number two, bump number two, same result, ejected. After climbing the Mica Grade I was in a full sweat so as I rolled into aid station three I took two bottles of water, one for drinking the other to pour over me. Exiting the aid station I had one bottle completely dumped over myself and tossed the empty. I then reached for the second bottle to start drinking but that bottle, although it was still there, the top had come off. I quickly pulled over and picked up a lid near the last bottle drop. Rolling away from the aid station with a half bottle of water, I was in better shape then when I rolled in. Not a perfect start to my hydration plan on the day but that's O.K. What if anything goes exactly as planned in an Ironman?

Photo by Steve Anderson

I was moving along as planned hitting my power and heart rate. At roughly mile 38-ish I was stung by a bee. After the race I heard there had been an accident somewhere out along the course where some 300 bee hives had been spilled while in transport. Now did one of these angry little buggers leave its now demolished home in search of an athlete to take it's revenge? I couldn't say but I do know I was stung not once but twice by the little bugger. Yep, it got me twice, once on the stomach and once on the side.

I'm not "EpiPen or Hospital" allergic to bee stings but I do traditionally have some sort of mild reaction. Swelling in my hands and feet is usually what manifests. Under other circumstances I would normally take Benadryl to help control any swelling that may occur but Benadryl makes me very sleepy so under race conditions I obviously don't take any. I did however check for tongue swelling. Swelling of the hands and feet is O.K. but airway? Should probably keep an eye on that.

Over the course of the next 20 miles my power started to sag and so did my heart rate. Making it back to town and out to Higgins point and back I felt pretty good. Crowds and adrenaline can do wonders, but as I headed back out the highway the sagging continue.

Photo by James Richman

I knew it was going to warm the second loop. The heat was starting to build and I could feel it. There was no escaping it. The only thing you could do was deal with it best you could. The heat had caused me to have a nose bleed, it happens but I didn't realize it. I had been pouring water over my head so the combination of sweat and water had hidden the fact I was bleeding and not just a little. When I finally realized I was bleeding, it took looks of horror from fellow athletes to drive the point home.

I reached Mica Peak Grade and as a climbed my heart rate wasn't reacting in a fashion I would have hoped. Air temps were rising and so was my proceived effort but my power and heart rate were not. They were really sagging as I climbed at what I thought was at or just below a normal effort.

I have what I would call a lower then average heart rate. My resting heart rate can be in the 30's. My target heart rate for an iron distance race is at or near 129 bpm. After the turn around at the far end of the highway my heart rate was trending between 77 and 84 bpm and my power had sagged accordingly as near as I could tell. I knew my heart rate wasn't where I hoped it would be but below 90? I wondered if all the water I had poured over myself had caused my heart monitor to malfunction skewing the numbers but wet or dry the numbers remained the same.

As I slowed I took stock not only with what was going on with me but those around me and it was absolute carnage out there. Every aid station was full of athletes seeking shade while waiting for a ride back to town. Out on course there were bikes laying along side the road with athletes up in the trees seeking shade. In more then one case I saw an ambulance parked along side the road with the EMS staff giving medical attention to athletes who had made what looked like an attempt to find shade in the trees but could not make it and were laying in the weeds. I don't know that to be the case but that is where EMS staff were giving them aid. It's hard not to take an athlete who is in need and make their pain your pain. We are all in this together but after a while I elected to just look away as I rode past. There were professionals caring for them, there was nothing I could do. I needed to stay focused on where I was so not to end up in the same boat. I was asked multiple times by multiple volunteers if I wanted a ride back to town. Every single volunteer had my health and the health of every athlete in mind.

"Don't push it. It's not worth it. If you need a ride back to town, we are here for you. Keep the big picture in mind. Remember your loved ones who are awaiting your safe return". 

These words certainly would help keep it all in perspective just how bad it was for some out there. The volunteers weren't discriminating, every single rider I saw got the same offer.

In the end 250 athletes would DNF without getting off the bike course. There were reports of road temps out on the highway of 148 degrees so to say it was hot out there would be an understatement. It was a furnace out there.

I limped into T2 a little beaten up and bleeding with a 6:56:56 ride. As I pulled up to bike dismount I was met by friend and teammate Ronnie and thank goodness. His direct words may have saved my race. I was in a bad spot and he gave me what I needed to move on to the run.

I took some extra time in T2. I changed my socks, tried to get some nutrition in and sorted through things I didn't get down out on the bike but hoped I could get down on the run. I got some suntan lotion and then put on a cooling shirt for protection from the heat.

Just outside of T2 I quickly ran into a friend and long time supporter Brittany. Brittany has been at every IMCDA race I have participated in, but I was still surprised to see her. It was 105 degrees for goodness sake. I had to stop and say thank you. I was met with a hug, the kind of hug that says "I don't care how sweaty, bloody and gross you are, I'm here for you". It left me fighting back tears. Brittany said Bootsy was, from what she could tell, still doing well. My surprise to see Brittany and hear all her kind words left me searching for something to say that could express my gratitude for her support. "I love you" would have to do.

A stop to say hello to Brittany.
Photo by Brittany Hood

I made it about 10 steps and there's another good friend Kathy. I stopped for pics and a hug and kiss before she sent me on my way. This marathon thing is off to a pretty good start I must say!

Photo By Kathy Worden

And for all intents and purposes that's where the good parts of my marathon ended. I tried to run through town but my stomach felt as though it was twisted in knots. Because of this the plan was to get to the first aid station even if I had to walk to give myself time for my stomach to calm down. There were lots of residents out in the streets with hoses spraying everyone with as much water as needed. I took full advantage of all of them. I wanted to stay wet in an effort to reduce or at least keep my core temps down and maybe this would help with my tummy issues as well.

At about mile two I ran into Bootsy. She said her day was coming apart a bit and she was walking the aid stations. She may have been out of the running for another AG win and a Kona slot but was going to enjoy the experience of the day to the best of her ability. I told her I was in "making it up as I go" mode and hoped I could pull it together so I could run.

At about mile four I found the Gallaghers. Of course they had lots of encouragement. I told them I was planning to walk until I could get in enough nutrition so I could run. The thought of walking a marathon just wasn't something at this point I was interested in.

Next stop, the Worthy's. This family is another group that has come out to support Bootsy and I each and every time we have raced Ironman Coeur d'Alene. Although Beth had reached out to us earlier in the week to make sure we were racing, I had to wonder if they would make it over to the race. Their children had spent the weekend playing in Hoopfest so their entire family had been in the sun and heat on the streets of Spokane all weekend long.

When I came upon the Worthy family they had found a great spot in the grass and shade and it looked so inviting. Yes I wanted to take time to thank them for coming out with "Go Craig" and "Go Erica" signage in tow but I didn't really plan to stop and take refuge in their shade spot. I actually sat down at one point. This seemed to concern Don, he worried I would cramp. My concern was in how good it was to sit in their company and watch the race go by.

Hanging with the Worthy's
Photo by James Richman (This guy is everywhere!)

I continued to walk and take in nutrition that looked good, which at this point wasn't much but I was able to drink some Coke, Gatorade and water. I also had volunteers pour water over me and put ice in the pockets that run down the center of the back of my cooling shirt. As I exited aid station 5 on my way back to town I noticed another athlete again looking at me in complete horror. My nose must be bleeding. When I looked down blood was everywhere. I had a water bottle in a hand carrier and I quickly used that to clean myself up but my goodness I was a mess. This had left some stains on my white cooling shirt and many would ask "Are you alright? What's with all the blood?".

Mile 13 and the turnaround back in town and guess who's still there suffering in the heat...Brittany. I stopped for more hugs and was happy for all of her encouragement. She told me that Bootsy had finished and she was able to talk with her after. Bootsy finished at straight up 12 hours and the one thing Bootsy was concerned with was "Couldn't I have gone 1 minute faster". It was a very Boosty thing to say so I knew she was doing well. Any news when faced with walking another half marathon was welcome and fact that Bootsy was in and doing well was a great burden lifted.

Photo by Phil Sandifur

As I pressed on the weight of walking the entire second half of the marathon started to weigh on me but I was still hoping I could run some. Now math started to come into play as well. There are cutoffs for this race and I needed to be done no later then 10:45 p.m. to make the 17 hours allotted to finish an Ironman. I also needed to be at the far end of the run course by 9:30 p.m. or my day would be done. I still had math on my side but not my stomach.

At the number 3 aid station at about mile 16 I wanted to be able to take in some solids. Heck, I was walking so I should be able to eat anything I want. There was a lawn chair right in the middle of the aid station so I asked if it would be O.K. if I sat for a minute while I ate some pretzels. I figured the lawn chair would be reasonably easy to get out of as I was getting a bit sore from all the walking. As it turned out the pretzels were a bad idea. My fastest run split on the day was around the back of a moving truck to find a box to relieve myself of the pretzels. 

Of course the volunteers were on me in a heart beat wanting to help in anyway they could. I was quickly brought paper towels and water. As soon as I felt I was finished with the box they quickly whisked it away saying they would take care of cleaning up after me. When a volunteer asked if I needed medical, I knew it was time to move on. I quickly thanked them for everything and asked for some sugar which came in the form of Coke and I moved on.

I tried solids a little later in the race but it was met with the same result. Every time I tried to run, after about 400 yard, my stomach would knot up and I would be forced to stop with my hands on my knees and wait for the wave of nausea to pass. But it felt so good to run. Running would give reprieve to the muscles in my legs that had not been trained to walk 26.2 miles. If you're going to walk a marathon might I suggest you train to walk a marathon.

Mile 21 and the Gallaghers had come back out on course to check on some of the racers, Bootsy in tow. Bootsy was kind enough to walk with me for a couple of miles and the company, although always good, was great. We had a chance to catch up about our day and reflect on what it is like to race inside of an oven.

Mile 23 - I trade out Bootsy for Nat who was on her mountain bike. Nat rode with me the remainder of the way in. There are times I am feeling so awful I wonder if I can make it the final miles but Nat talks me through it. Is having someone to talk with in the final miles of a 7 hour and 37 minute odyssey considered outside assistance? Probably but at 10:30 at night and 16 hours and 23 minutes into the race, who is going to enforce it?

I gave Nat a hug thanking her for bringing me in as I turn down Sherman Avenue. The lights of the finish line and Mike Reilly's voice were calling me home. A fellow competitor asks where we are supposed to go. I tell him we go straight down Sherman to the clock tower and the bright lights. "A finish on Sherman Avenue is what brought you here and it is what will bring you back".

I jogged the final few hundred yards to the finishing shoot, giving a high five to anyone who would take it and they all were taking. I reveled in it, soaking up every possible second, every congratulations, every smile and every cheer.

In the final hour Mike Reilly, the voice of Ironman, comes down from the announcers box and greets the athletes as they finish. As I approach Mike I look for a high five. He grabs my hand stopping me, looks me straight in the eye and said those magic words "Craig Thorsen - You are an Ironman"! I turn away from Mike and am delivered to the finish line.

After finishing I a quickly scooped up be a volunteer. I ask if I can take a minute but the volunteers have been instructed to keep the athletes moving away from the finish line so not to jam it up. My asking for a minute quickly brings a member of the medical staff. He, I believe it was a he, fires a few questions at me. I got the first one right but whiffed on the second. "Yes I do know who the president of the United States is but I just can't remember right now". Off to the Med tent we go. I tried my best to talk my way out of going. I just wanted to sit down for a minute or two. Once I started to plead my case a second member of the medical staff was called in making it very clear I was going to the Med tent like it or not.

Once seated outside of the Med tent I was still softballing their questions and was told in no uncertain terms not to lie to the med staff. They are here to help and could only do so if they have all the information. I was given a wristband and marked on it where my symptoms, dizziness and nausea. As I continued to crash the decision was made to move me inside the tent to lay down.

Med bracelet and a watch that is telling me I was out on course a bit to long.

After a few minutes inside the director of the medical staff and friend saw me and came over to asses my condition. This was not my first visit to the med tent after a race so to be able to say that I have a "working relationship" with the director of the the medical staff, well that's a bit sad. But Stan was awesome. He gave me some Ativan for the nausea saying "This is the stuff we gave you last time and it worked great. You will be up in no time". Of course he was right.

So in the end Ironman showed us all how hard it is to race in the heat. Ironman Coeur d'Alene 2015 proved to be the hottest full Ironman ever raced in North America. So I'm sure in time this race will become something of legend. But for the record it was brutal for everyone. The Medical Tent, during and after the race, treated 31% or 532 racers. Ironman started the day with 15 tons of ice, 30 tons were distributed to the athletes during the race, enough for 35 lbs of ice per athlete. I know for fact that some aid stations ran out of ice and water at times, I saw it for myself. But this is where the best volunteers on the plant stepped in, many of them driving to nearby towns to purchase supplies on their own dime to fill in as aid stations waited for another delivery. Who does that? The Ironman Coeur d'Alene volunteers do that!

So what's next? I have no idea. Bootsy and I will recover from this race with some mountain bike and road bike "workouts". I don't see us racing in the month of July but I would think we will toe the line somewhere during the month of August. We'll see.

Throw Back Thursday - "It's May."

Things are always drifting in and out of my head. Some things I deem note worthy and they can end up here as a blog post, some things I don't. I have more then once started writing about this or that only to have it gain no traction and be left as a draft.

I came upon this draft the other day and thought I would drag it out for a Throw Back Thursday and then expand on it's theme. Not your traditional throw back but maybe that's what I like most about it.

"When training for an endurance event there are cycles. In the run up to IMCDA the final build can be a bit daunting. Long hours, tired body and mind, it's all part of the process. It's just that sometimes in May when headed to Ironman Coeur d'Alene, the process can start to wear you down. It can make you do things you would hope you normally wouldn't. And it can trigger things you wish it wouldn't!"

 "On our mid week ride Bootsy and I got on the bikes for a scheduled 3 hour ride after work. We knew the forecast was for evening rain but we were hoping it would hold off until we got most if not all of our ride completed. But to us it would seem, we don't have the best luck with Spring rains. As per what has become usual for us, as soon as our cleats hit the pedals the rain begins. Our ride started downtown and shortly after pushing away from the car the rain really started coming down. You know that rain, the one where it comes down in sheets and so hard you actually laugh out loud. For the majority of our workout we rode in what resembled a monsoon. This was the type of ride that would prove to be all about testing our mental toughness. If you ask Bootsy she would tell you that I may have failed the test. After about the 2 hour mark in the pouring rain I put my head down and made a hard charge for the car. I was done with the rain! So on an out and back ride my charge left us with a 15 minute negative split. Not exactly how the workout was written but we got the ride in. Bootsy got tossed off the back a couple of times, not because she couldn't stay on my wheel, she certainly could have. She slipped off the back because she was sticking to her power. I was headed for the barn. Her mental toughness in check, mine acting like a 6 year old."

 "And no I did not pick up the last 15 minutes of the workout even though it had stopped raining as we arrived back to the car, the sun breaking through the clouds."

"Nor did I do my T-run!"

I'm a child or at times act very childish. Just ask Bootsy, she will tell you in no uncertain terms, recounting story after story of my childlike behavior and attitudes. This is not a strong suit as it applies to training and racing or any other part of life for that matter. But it is a reality.

Bootsy on the other hand is the polar opposite, focused and driven. You will never hear her speak to it, she is quick to divert this topic of conversation to you and your achievements. Not solely because she's uncomfortable with the subject of herself but because she is truly interested in your successes.

And to that, it is my belief that the following quote captures much of the guiding force in her everyday life.

"I've worked to hard and too long to let anything stand in the way of my goals. I will not let my teammates down and I will not let myself down."

Bootsy is blessed with great focus and drive. She knows exactly where she is going and has an unwavering determination to get there. Undeterred by setbacks or failures, and as a person with next to no ego, she works closely with her coach to make any necessary adjustments, always keeping her eye on the prize. With every goal she reaches, she sets new and bigger goals, redirecting her ambition and focus in their pursuit. Bootsy exudes contagious energy and passion, inspiring those around her and arousing even this most passive follower into action.

There are triathletes who are up before the sun, leaving for a run from their front door, putting in solitary mile after solitary mile with only their mental toughness to keep them going. Bootsy is definately one of those athletes.

I, on the other hand, am someone who swims with the masters group, rides with the peloton and runs with the pack. I like pushing each other in an effort to reach limits and I enjoying shooting the breeze over a recovery shake or whatever the chosen post workout beverage may be. I find training with others forces me to push myself and varies my workout locations and my state of mind.

Although Bootsy enjoys training with a group, she still puts in her share of lonely workouts; "mental toughness sessions." She puts in plenty of miles on the trainer this time of year due to weather or darkness. But she also realized that while training alone does have its time and place, nothing is more fun than a good laugh during a long run. (Except maybe dropping a minute per mile on her run pace, simply by running with the Swifts.)

In my case, I trained alone for years, certain I was too slow to hang with any group of runners or most cyclists and convinced my location wouldn't allow for group training. As Bootsy and I drifted toward Ironman, I knew I would want to train with a group and when the invitation to join a local Tri group came, we were convinced to do so. This was a perfect fit for me but I have wondered at times if I rely to much on a group setting instead of my own mental toughness.

Bootsy and I have a unique situation when it comes to training together, me a middle of the pack age group athlete, her a world class athlete, her acheivements speak for themselves. We are fortunate in the fact that we can train together, side by side, while both of us get what we need from the same workout. But there is really only one reason for this, I'm male and she's female. Her talent is off the charts but because nature didn't put an average male and world class female on a level playing field, most days I'm able to keep up.

We ride and run together a lot in training but on race day it's a different story, she finishes hours ahead of me. One doesn't have to look far to see it's because of her mental toughness. She's a machine. I can train right next to her everyday, putting in the exact same miles at exactly the same prescribed intensity for months and months leading up to a race but on race day...

So I watch for the little things, looking for any small details I can apply. I take her up on her unspoken challanges to go little harder, a little longer or to stick to the plan which can also mean slowing down or taking it easy. During workouts, I look for slight facial expressions that may give any insight to how much she may be suffering in a given moment. She can be expressionless when suffering so even the smallest change in expression can be a huge indicator. I also watch her away from training in her day to day life, looking for signs or clues of how her body is recovering. I am constantly looking for any of these details so I can use them as a comparison and apply them to my training, to my mental toughness.

There is one other thing she posesses that I do not. That is her ablility on race day to be alone with herself. She has the uncanny ablity to stay in her own head. When things get tough in a race she can block out all the distactions and the pain, staying focused on the task at hand. That in my opinion is a gift.

An iron distance race is a long day. Staying mentally crisp and in the moment for the entire race is nearly impossible. But for those who can do it better then most, well those folks get the opportunity to spend a week or two in October under the sunny skies of Kona. And as for the rest of us, maybe we are just trying to stay out of the rain.