Following the chaos of last fall and an unexpected deferral from Ironman Florida to Ironman Texas, I found myself once again eating extra bananas at 3:30 AM in a hotel bathroom… It was truly a race morning. After sixteen long weeks of building up fitness I was excited and so happy to be in Houston uninjured, uninhibited by weather, and unconcerned about what the remainder of the day would bring. This was it, everything the training was meant for!
If you’ve read my blog before, I took a break from writing during the build to Texas. I was frankly overwhelmed with the training load and balancing family, life, and work while preparing. So, here it is, a return to blogging on a not-at-all-regular basis with this race report from Ironman Texas.
Pre-event
IM TX began the Wednesday before race day as we loaded up the minivan, sans children, and headed west. With kids securely under the care of grandparents, Lauren and I enjoyed what must have been our first quiet extended car ride in ages. Having waited until after school to leave, we traveled as far as Baton Rouge in the rare ecstasy of uninterrupted adult conversation!
Bringing the snacks 🙂 
Loaded and ready!
Thursday was an early arrival into Houston and The Woodlands directly to the site of the event. Thankfully, parking was fairly simple and we checked in easily at the Ironman Village. We took a brief stroll together to eat lunch and see the race area before discovering the local Cinemark with RECLINING LEATHER SEATS! Probably not a big deal to those of you in bigger cities but we were in movie theater heaven 🙂 We packed in a comfy movie experience before heading to the hotel where I did a last mech check on my gear and bike, a quick service, and bag pack for gear check the following day.
Ironman Village 
Real, live pros! 
I mean, we basically had to eat here…
Friday we slept until the luxuriously late 6:15 AM without the presence of boys declaring the rising of the sun loudly at their customary 5:45… We packed it all back up and headed for Ironman Village. Parking at the swim start, I took a brief dip in the lake which was nice and cool while Lauren scouted out the local playground for a good book reading spot. With a decent amount of time remaining until bike check-in, we headed back to the nearby coffee shop where Lauren waited me out (yet again) while I did a last ride on my bike to check and see that all race items were working correctly. I deposited the bike into transition at the first opportunity and we were back to counting down to race morning. So, what to do? BACK TO THOSE RECLINING MOVIE SEATS!!!!! Followed by a quick trip to the local H.E.B. (a Whole Foods-ish grocery store) for some hotel bathroom breakfast food. As we headed back for the last sleep before go-time, I ran through my checklist one last time and began the final gear packing for special needs and go-time 🙂
One last equipment tune-up
The Plan
My plan for race day was simple: keep it simple! I had focused nearly all of my final training weeks on long efforts at low intensity and felt confident in each respective discipline even if I was never able to string together anything resembling the training load of an Ironman day. Although I briefly considered swimming without the wetsuit to avoid any overheating, I decided to stick to plan and wear it anyway. My swim plan: start easy, cruise easy, finish easy, avoid cramping.
My plan for the first transition was to take it very slowly, gather myself, eat something small, and be sure that my gear was in place before heading out onto the bike. I decided to wear socks on the bike, something I rarely do, just in case of chafing and brought along my new De Soto Sport run-cycle socks for the job. No flying mounts–just in case–since my goal was finishing uninjured and I wasn’t trying to save the seconds.
My bike plan was similar to my swim plan, just take it easy. I was aiming for an intensity factor of 70-75% which, for those of you who are curious, would be 190-200 watts. With some rolling overpasses, I was prepped to do short surges at 280-320 watts and count on soft pedaling aid stations and such. For nutrition, I was packing SaltStick FastChews in a phial stashed in my hip pocket. I loaded three bottles of Gatorade Endurance on the bike as a precaution. One in my between-the-arms refillable bottle, one on my bike down tube, and one in a behind-the-seat bottle cage. I stashed a couple GU gels and some Clif Bloks into my bento and loaded up refills of everything into my special needs bag. I carried a normal flat kit with an extra CO2 charge and rolled out on a 66mm front wheel running a full disc in the back on Vittoria Corsas with latex tubes.
My plan for the transition to run was again to take it slowly, cautiously, and repackage nutrition essential like salt tabs. I would change socks and throw on my race belt before trotting it out to the run.
My run plan was based on my 70.3 experiences. I decided to target an easy jogging effort and walk all aid stations while taking in water, Gatorade, sponges, and ice with occasional fruit or GU gels. I tossed a few random things in my special needs bag for the run, but to be honest I can’t even remember what they were…
And, of course, my plan for the finish line was to hopefully still be alive (haha), uninjured, lucid, and ideally under twelve hours 🙂
Race Morning
As I finished my 3:30 AM hotel bathroom breakfast, I grabbed my stash bag of race day gear and slid in to my Riviera Flisuit with some cover up shorts and shirt for the ride over. A Lyft driver was kind enough to pick me up for the trip to the start area (in exchange for money) and we had a good convo on the way in. I was on site bright and early to do a last check on the bike, load up nutrition, and shake out any last nerves. Thankfully, a triathlon friend, Nuno, was racked nearby and he happily walked me through some expectations, tips, and where to go. We made the walk over to swim start together and did our wetsuit prep just in time to line up in the corrals for swim start 🙂
The Swim, 1:07:20 (34th in Age group, 199th male, 235th overall)
Despite having loads of time, my planned pace group, 1:10, was already too far up the corral to line up in without shoving through the crowd. Not wanting to be a tool, I opted just to stand in the 1:15-1:20 area and call it good. Before long, the cannon went off and the walk through the swim start began. After a short queue, it was straight in to the cool waters of Lake Woodlands. I was happily sporting my wetsuit with trisuit rolled down inside, a fair amount of body glide on my neck, my AWA swim cap, and one set of goggles. I read somewhere that some people bring two sets of goggles with one tucked into the wetsuit but decided against disaster prepping at this point.
The beginning of the swim was an easy quick spurt through the chute and into the first out segment of the swim. As I had lined up a bit back of my swimming pace I was quickly swimming through people and there was seemingly lots of room to do so. With an established swim line from the stream of athletes, it was easy to keep a consistent line–especially in a lake with no wave action for someone used to fighting ocean waves and currents! The first 1,500 yards was spent passing, regrouping, bridging up to a new swim pack, and repeating. Honestly, it was going absolutely great at this point despite some minor calf twinges near the turn back.
The second 1,500 yards of the swim is the line back to the canal. This is where some advice from Nuno came in extremely handy. Packs had thinned out at this point and Nuno had pointed out to me on the walk in that there were two large construction cranes to sight as swimming targets coming back. As I would break through a new group of swimmers and begin to bridge up, I would pick up on these cranes and they kept me on a great swim line. Nuno had also told me about a small “false turn” area where it looks like the lake bends in to the canal but is really just a small scoop out. Had I not known this, I would have probably diverted in thinking this was the turn and saw a few swimmers do just that.
The last leg of the swim is a high-energy 1,300 yards down a canal lined with spectators cheering and yelling. I had worked my way up in to swimmers pacing faster and was passing less often. I briefly worried as my right calf seized but I was able to float the leg and swim steady through it. After passing under some bridges we were all safely in to the water exit where volunteers were waiting to catch us and haul us out of the water.
Thank goodness for the volunteers willing to pull me up the steps and onto the path. It was a bit disorienting to return to vertical so quickly but I quickly trotted to the wetsuit strippers who slipped me right out and sent me off to transition at a steady trot. I took a brief look at my watch to check my swim time and was absolutely stoked to see my best swim time ever, and a top 10% overall swim, looking back at me 🙂
T1 swim to bike, 00:08:37
The first transition went exactly as planned as I slowly slipped on arm coolers, gloves, headband, helmet, socks, and shoes while racking in some salts and a Clif Bar. I trotted out of the changing tent to my bike rack and headed out onto the bike course.
Bike, 05:21:37 (34th age group, 188th male, 212th overall)
The bike is easily broken up into three stages:
- The ride out through The Woodlands
- The Hardy Toll Road
- The ride back in
I spent the first segment focusing on getting comfortable and taking in fluids while stretching out legs and hips with a quick bit of bike-yoga. The first area was not too crowded but did require attention to avoid drafting and blocking while working into a good position. There were plenty of marshalls on the course which was encouraging to see. After a brief stint working through local roads, we made the turn onto the Hardy Toll Road.
Turning south onto the Hardy Toll Road was a rude awakening. The wind was HOWLING in from the south at about 20 MPH. While I’ve done plenty of training in windy conditions here on the coast, the prospect of a tough slog south into a strong headwind wasn’t the most encouraging sight… I leaned on advice from training partners who reminded me to just stick to power numbers and ignore speed. Hard as it was to not over pace it, I stuck with the plan and began taking in nutrition and hydration with a will. I dropped my liquids carrying load to one bottle of Gatorade and was taking on more at each aid station. As there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, I was also taking a bottle of water and keeping my skin cooler suit and arms sleeves wet at every opportunity before dumping the water bottle at the end of the stations.
The trip south seemingly took ages and I was mentally stunned at the effort before making the turn. The turn north, however, was like breathing new life into tired legs. With a previously strong headwind now a strong tailwind, the rear disc picked up the wind and the steady power effort drove me up to speeds that just make riding fun. It really was a breath of fresh air and I enjoyed it all the way back to the turn around, which arrived almost instantly.
The second lap of the Hardy Toll Road began with a brief stop at special needs to pack on a recharge of GU gels and Clif Bloks as well as a refill on salt tabs. I had some minor leg cramping on my right side but had kept it suppressed by taking in extra salts and upping my fluid intake. As I rolled out of special needs and back into the headwinds, I mentally reminded myself that a refreshing tailwind would be the reward for perseverance. Nevertheless, with more people now on the course the effort was harder, mentally, as I did need to sit up a few times while being passed and drop out of drafting zones. Although this offers a small physical break in action, the mental frustration of being passed by someone who almost immediately sits up and slows down can be wearrying. By the end of the second loop, I was more than ready for that tailwind.
As I made the turn to go northbound and accelerated back up to speed I found that I was facing a new problem. Both feet, but especially my right, were in pain along the outside edge and I could not get them comfortable. Unfortunately, this meant that I was never able to maintain a steady rolling cadence and wasted a lot of time searching for a good foot position to alleviate the pain. I started to worry that this would have a disastrous effect on the rest of the day but knew there was nothing to do but stick it out back to transition. Thankfully, with the help of the tailwind, I was able to keep a relatively decent pace back north and off the toll road.
The last section back in to transition was uneventful. The course traverses some rougher areas of road and I was still dealing with the foot pain so I spent more time than I would have liked up out of the aerobars and adjusting. There were almost no other bikers around but I did make a few final passes on the way back in and made an effort to keep the pace up despite the discomfort.
Rolling in to transition I was able to hand the bike off to a volunteer to re-rack and trot back into the changing tent for the run mentally trying to come up with a plan for my feet…
T2 bike to run, 00:08:00
My main goal in T2 at this point was to try and regain some comfort. I rolled in a fresh pair of socks and gave my feet a quick massage to try and work some of the soreness out. I restocked salt tabs and a Clif Bar into my hip pockets and grabbed the race belt, hat, and sunglasses before eyeing my shoes. I was glad at this point that I opted for my more cushioned stability shoes instead of a more racing flat style shoe I typically wear at shorter distances. I felt some relief in the arch support sliding them on but new on standing that this would be a tough run to get started.
As ready as I could be, I trotted out of the tent and into the waiting hands of the sunscreen volunteers who gave me a 5-second sun lotion massage as I made my way onto the run.
The Run 4:50:32 (46th age group, 286th male, 344th overall)
The run began in what I can only describe as excruciating foot pain… The outside of my right foot was a bed of agony on each new landing; however, I was feeling a balance in my step that was distributed pressure to the arch of the foot and hoped it would improve. There’s a relevant saying that “In the Ironman, discomfort is temporary and will be replaced by other feelings later–usually a different kind of discomfort.” I meandered my way up the first hill and into the first aid station working hard on keeping a very light pace and reciting my mental plan for aid stations.
As I approached each aid station I forced myself to walk and take full advantage of water, ice, sponges, and fruit. As the run continued it no longer became a mental exercise of forcing myself to slow down or walk but rather one of “Just get to the next aid station and you can walk.” At the third aid station I took a short break in the available portables and was finally starting to feel the foot pain be relieved and replaced by quad pain 🙂
The next five miles finished out the first of three laps in which I honestly felt great. My plan was working well, I was keeping my pace around 8:30-45 min/mile between aid stations, walking the stations, and checking off miles at an average of 9:00-30 min/mile. Not fast but it felt sustainable. Just before the recycle point to hit the second lap, I was thrilled to find Lauren cheering me on from a grassy-shady area. It was the first time I had been able to see her that day and it really made me feel better to see her, hear her encouragement, and snag a quick hug and kiss before starting the second loop 🙂
The second loop ticked along nicely almost exactly according to plan. I did make another visit to the portable restrooms at the same aid station, though this time around mile 13 and the halfway point. I could absolutely feel the pain increasing in my quads but had been keeping on top of nutrition and hydration and had yet to have even the first twinge of a muscle cramp. I will note, though, that I was purposefully keeping my stride short and stunted to help avoid a hamstring cramp as I was worried that working into a proper run stride with a decent toe off and kick would return a spasm at the back of the stride… But as I was still passing people walking and honestly trotting along faster than most people, I felt content to not try and elevate my pace. In my mind, I was hoping to save any pace increases for the last lap.
It was during the second lap, too, that I started totaling up my known splits for the day to try and guess at probable finish times. I quickly realized that, as long as I could hold a steady pace similar to what I was doing, I had a reasonable shot at being just under eleven hours total. I made that my new target as an aggressive goal to help with ignoring the pain I was feeling steadily build. As I jogged into the Ironman central area and cheering groups, I looked forward to seeing Lauren again at mile 17-18 or so and kept a steady pace. I recall vividly telling her as I stopped for another kiss that it was just one more lap to go but it probably came out more like “Holy crap, there’s one more of these dang laps still…” But, as I again recycled into my last lap, I kept repeating that being under eleven hours would be better than the pain.
As I jogged through onto the third lap, I had every confidence that I would keep things rolling steadily. As I completed mile 19 I looked down to see that my pace was still a 9:00 min/mile for the lap including the aid station walk and I was stoked. But as I headed through to mile 20 and up a small hill I suddenly seized up on my right side and was forced to stand and quickly stretch out as my glute, hip, quad, and hamstring all ganged up on me to freeze me in place. After a brief stretch and an extra few salt tabs, I resolved to walk for three minutes before trying to jog again. As I restarted my jog I was mentally preparing to ignore the pain and mentally believed I still had a shot at being in under eleven hours if I could just restart a reasonable jog.
Sadly, reality caught up to me with a fresh dose of perspective. As I hobble-trotted through mile 20 and 21 I watched my lap paces fall first to an 11:30 min/mile then a 12:00 min/mile with the walk breaks I was taking. Some of the muscular numbness that had set in thanks to continuous motion was replaced by new waves of quad pain and foot pad discomfort any time I tried to do anything more than essentially hold a steady walk. I quickly reassessed my entire life to this point and decided that I needed to take an extended walk break and reassess after the next aid station. This soon became a rolling theme as I spent the next five miles walking along with a few attempts at jogging quickly shut down by pain that made me see black spots… And it was here that I realized I now needed to just focus on completing the last few miles, take in as much aid as I could stand, and not worry about the eleven hour target.
Throughout the last few miles of the marathon, I was able to recollect my thoughts somewhat, talk to a few fellow walkers, and really just constantly reassess my physical condition. My previous “ignore the pain” mantras were suddenly replaced with a basic mental checklist of general health such as:
- Do you remember your name?
- Do you know where you are?
- Who is your wife?
- Who are your kids?
- Have you had enough water/salt/food?
I could tell that I clearly wasn’t in my best mental (or physical) shape but I was confident that I had at least not lost all cognitive processes yet 🙂
Finally, the last lap was complete and I passed the recycle point and headed up the hill to the finish chute. I determined that I would absolutely not walk down the chute but would instead trot/jog the best that I could. I’ve seen the brief video Lauren managed to capture, though I couldn’t spot her in the crowd, and I can laugh now as I see myself do the most awkward, painful looking shuffle to the finish line 🙂 But, as I crossed through the final arch I was relieved to have it done and finally be able to just stop moving.
The Aftermath
Much like the training build before the day of the event, there is a whole new world of “now what” that begins the very instant you set foot across the line. I was caught by a volunteer who held me, collected gear for me, and guided me in my disoriented state through the finish area. Another volunteer who was from Pensacola (nearby to Panama City) asked to take a picture with me and helped to shepherd me along into the finisher’s area. My catcher, bless her forever, made sure I had water and a banana slice and asked me if I needed a wheelchair. For some reason that makes absolutely no sense at all I responded with, “No… I think I’ll be ok.” Idiot.
Waiting for me at the end of the finisher’s chute and taking over from my catcher was Lauren. There was no better feeling than to know that I was back with her and that we would be ok 🙂 She collected some food and helped me to a nearby unoccupied padded chair that had been left at the LuLuLemon booth. I eyed the chair suspiciously, worried that upon sitting down I would either start cramping all over or just plain never be able to get back out of it again. Lauren quickly went to collect a Gatorade and I took the most half-hearted bite of a burrito ever before realizing I just couldn’t stomach any solid food at the moment.
After a period of time in which I had no real sense of time, Lauren helped me back up and over to my morning clothes bag which was quickly collected by a volunteer. I gingerly lifted myself into a portable restroom and began the very slow, awkward process of changing myself into some dry clothes. I’m certain it must have taken me fifteen minutes in that portable to actually change and reassemble myself but thankfully I didn’t end up in a cramped heap, locked inside a bathroom 🙂
Freshly clothed, Lauren provided me with a moving human crutch as we made our way through the crowds and back to the van. We managed to find a parking spot near enough to transition to “quickly” pick up transition bags and bike gear before loading back up. As we headed back to the hotel, we swung through a nearby Chick-fil-a and I was able to take in a milkshake, though with no real gusto. It’s a feeling unlike any other I’ve experienced to this point. I was mentally sluggish, disoriented, tired, and just generally beaten down to the point of almost not understanding what was happening around me. I was also bloated and sore and I have no honest idea of what I said or did other than that Lauren got me back to the hotel and I managed to stand under a shower.
I slept the sleep of the exhausted that night though I woke up nearly every hour, on the hour, as my body decided to de-bloat all the excess water/Gatorade I was carrying around… Still, we awoke Sunday morning and loaded up for the trip back. As the day progressed, I gradually became more and more mentally cognizant of the what/when/where/why’s that were going on around me. While I had been prepared for physical exhaustion, I hadn’t counted on being mentally drained for this amount of time; however, as we drove back along the interstate (and yes, I drove… not sure that was the greatest idea of mine) I regained a sense of mental clarity with each progressive hour.
Now, as it has been three days I’m back to being able to walk around, the muscle pain is subsiding somewhat, and I’m able to look back on the event happy with myself and grateful for all the people that have made this possible.
So… Now what?
I’ve heard before, and can now attest, that the first reaction upon crossing the finish line is “That was awful. I never want to do that again.” After a few days this turns into, “If I had tweaked a few things, I bet I could do better!” and “I’d do that again, it was fun!” So, will I? I honestly doubt it. Or at least not in any short amount of time. I can be glad that I did this and finished but I look more at my family and can’t comprehend spending this much time away from them again. The training to be able to complete this is intense and the physical toll is high. While I’ve absolutely reached the point of “I bet I could do better!”, I won’t because I wouldn’t trade the feeling of the Ironman for any of the experiences that I enjoy every day as a husband and father. I’m more than content to return to racing the half-Ironman distance where training is hard enough to be a fitness challenge but not excessive to the point of missing out on important time with my family.
Lastly, I can’t acknowledge enough how amazing and patient Lauren has been in helping me through the race and putting up with my training; especially while pregnant! And, while I doubt any volunteers or directors from the race will ever read this, thank you to everyone who volunteers to help with these events or put them together!
If you’ve actually read to the bottom of this, congratulations, you are an Iron…. reader.
John Fielding 
Welcome to the world of Ironman John. It’s never easy and as competitors we always strive for that extra time we believe we can achieve. It’s also my goal of sub 11. Had a 11:07 at IM Germany in the 30-34 AG. Last IM was 2017 in 50-54 Ag. 11:45. Time isn’t on our side but we tri!!!!
LikeLiked by 1 person