Chris' race report is at the end of this section.
Split times:
2.4 mile swim: 1:13:52
112 mile bike: 5:29:00
26.2
mile run: 3:46:21
Overall time: 10:34:12, 149/2166 overall, 20/303
M40-44
Short version:
Ironman Canada was held on the final day of the
2004 Athens Olympics. As they would have said at the original Olympics a couple
millennia ago: "Veni, vidi, Kona." English translation: "I came, I saw, I
qualified." (Yes, yes, I know it's Latin, not Greek, so this wouldn't actually
have been said at the original Olympics.)
Really long version:
"Are
you guys going to the Olympics?" That was one of the questions asked of Zoe and
me as we stood in line to check in our bikes at the Ottawa airport for the
flight to Kelowna. Well, we're hardly Olympic calibre athletes, but we hoped to
have good races in Penticton. Another question asked of us by the ticket agent
was, "What's in those boxes?" Following Rudy's advice I said, "triathlon
equipment," rather than bikes, so we weren't charged an extra $75 each for
privilege of having our boxes tossed around in various airports.
We
arrived in the Okanogan Valley a week before Ironman Canada to get acclimatised
to the heat. This turned out to be a rather needless thing to do, as up until
race day the weather there was Ottawa-like: cool and wet.
This was
Ironman #4 for me. Despite some delusional dreaming in the previous three
Ironman races, this was the first time that I had a legitimate shot at
qualifying for the Ironman World Championship in Kona. I thought I'd need to
have S/B/R splits of 1:10/5:30/3:30 plus not more than five minutes in two
transitions (total 10:15) to have a shot at qualifying.
Pre-race:
We
stayed with my uncle in Oliver for a few days, going for a couple of easy 2k
swims, a couple of short runs, and riding various parts of the course. I was
actually happy to get a couple of flats during training rides - it gave me a
chance to practice changing tubes quickly, and I figured if I flatted before the
race, I wouldn't get any during the race. There were a ton of people from Ottawa
in Penticton (I think we had 40 people at the Ottawa breakfast) - it was great
to see so many familiar faces and to meet new friends.
Race
Day:
Having done IMC two years ago made for a relatively stress-free race
morning, as I was familiar with the flow of humanity through the transition area
and down to the beach. Zoe and I checked in early, dropped our special needs
bags, got body marked, checked out our bikes and put on sunscreen. Then we
grabbed a couple of chairs and sat by ourselves away from everybody else, trying
not to get caught up with other people's pre-race nervousness. We met Rudy who,
like us, was wearing his bright red Keskinada toque to ward off the morning
chill.
Swim:
As planned, I started way, way left and out of the
washing machine. From where I was, this was the least violent of the four
Ironman swims I've done; there was only a bit of contact between myself and
other swimmers. I felt I was moving really easily and expending very little
energy. I was mildly disappointed to see 1:13 on my watch at the end, but I
didn't worry about it too much.
T1:
Even with the peelers, I had a bit
of trouble getting my wetsuit off, but I got through T1 pretty quickly, in 3:36.
In both T1 and T2 I didn't use the change tent, saving time and avoiding the
temptation to linger.
Bike:
The bike course had been slightly changed
this year, and included a 180-degree turn one km into the ride. I took the first
10 km very carefully and rode defensively, not wanting to tangle with any other
cyclists on the crowded streets through town. At about 20k Zoe caught up to me
and asked what I was doing (going so slowly). Oh yeah, I thought, this is a
race, not a training ride, and I cranked it up a notch.
One of the
benefits of being such a slow swimmer is that you get the psychological benefit
of passing an awful lot of people during the rest of the race. For the fourth
consecutive Ironman, I passed 900+ people, many of them on the climbs up McLean
Creek Road, Richter Pass and Yellow Lake. I sat and spun in my lowest gear up
all of these climbs and was still able to pass tons of people. I felt that I
handled the climbs and rode the rollers between Richter and the Cawston out and
back really well. The descents were another story, though, as I couldn't commit
to staying tucked on my aerobars on some of the long, sweeping descents. Still,
not as many people passed me on the downhills as two years ago. The only time I
pushed even slightly hard on the bike was the last 15k of the ride. I wanted to
try to hit my goal time of 5:30, and I did so by exactly one minute. I felt
great getting off the bike - the first time I've been able to say that in an
Ironman.
T2:
I've had a quick look through the results booklet and I
haven't been able to find anyone with a faster T2 than my 1:24. Feet out of bike
shoes before stopping, stop, hand bike to volunteer, run to T2 bag, run to
grassy area, helmet off, running shoes on, grab hat (with gels inside), GO!
Coincidentally, my combined transition times were exactly 5:00, just what I was
hoping for.
Run:
Okay, I told myself as I headed out, just run 26
eight-minute miles and you're going to Kona. Mile 1: 6:46, yikes, way too fast!
Mile 2: 7:14, still too fast. Mile 3: 7:45, that's more like it. I was able to
hold about a 7:55 pace up to Mile 10, then totally ran out of energy. I'd only
eaten two gels on the run up to this point, and probably hadn't eaten enough on
the bike, either. Starting around Mile 10 I had to walk through aid stations and
up some of the hills. I was still making up ground on a lot of runners, though.
I pulled to within five metres of Paul McAneney at the OK Falls turnaround, but
couldn't quite catch him. I felt I was on the verge of my calves cramping up so
badly that I wouldn't be able to move, so I started eating the salted pretzels
they had at aid stations; that seemed to help. After keeping Paul in sight for
seven miles I managed to pass him at Mile 20. This was like waving a red flag in
front of a bull and he shot past me and disappeared out of sight.
By now
I was "running" 9:00 to 9:30 minute miles and had given up on qualifying. I just
wanted to get the damn race over with. I was still calculating my projected
finishing time though, and I have to admit that knowing training partner Dev had
an Ironman PB of 10:35 spurred me on. More walking and more pain. Despite all my
walking, almost nobody was passing me. I guess other people were having tough
days, too. Finally I was able to lumber onto Lakeshore Drive and do the final
out and back before crossing the line in 10:34:12, a PB by 14
minutes.
Post Race:
The volunteers treat you like royalty at IMC after
you've finished. I had two catchers spend 10 minutes with me before delivering
me to one of the hot tubs. Then it was over to the massage tent for a wonderful
massage, and while there I was delivered a couple slices of pizza and fruit.
Bliss! I managed to see Zoe cross the finish line and present her with her medal
shortly afterwards. Then we walked back to our hotel, took hot showers, grabbed
some chips and beer and returned to the finish line to watch the rest of the
race. We sat in the stands with Coach Rick who, like a mother hen, was nervously
watching for the last of his athletes to come home.
"Rolling, rolling,
rolling, keep those slots a-rolling":
Out of 100 Hawaii qualifying slots on
offer, only 48 were claimed on Monday morning, leaving 52 to roll down in the
afternoon. "That's huge," said rollmeister Marc Roy. I was really surprised to
find out that I'd finished 20th in my age group - after my poor run, I thought I
would have finished much lower. There were 11 slots available for the M40-44
category. Only five had been claimed in the morning, leaving six to roll down.
If I remember correctly, the 12th, 14th and 17th slots weren't claimed. When the
17th slot went unclaimed, I knew I was going to Kona. The 18th, 19th and (my)
20th slot were all claimed, so I managed to get the final slot in my age group -
unbelievable!
While I was in the Kona registration tent, the W40-44
rolldown was taking place. But you'll have to hear about that part of the story
from Zoe...
"I'd like to thank the Academy..."
(This is where it gets
warm and sappy - please hit "Skip to Next" if you don't want your stomach
turned.)
For somebody who loves to train alone, I sure have a lot of
training partners / friends / colleagues to thank:
Four years ago, after
finishing my first Ironman, I knew exactly zero triathletes in Ottawa. I think I
now know a good chunk of the area's triathletes and am firm friends with many of
you. This is mostly due to Rudy's List (as it was known - no such thing as
TriRudy back then.). Thanks to Rudy, Joan and Jamie Stephenson for developing
such a wonderful tool for Ottawa's triathletes.
I would not be going to
Kona if I hadn't met Dev Paul. Period. His weekly Tour de Gats rides and wild
and fun training schemes made me realize what one's body is capable of if you
set your mind to it. As we used to say in my previous recreational career as a
rock climber, "free your mind and your ass will follow".
More than anyone
else, I owe my slot in Kona to Dev. I'd also like to thank the other Lame Posers
(that is a complimentary, not derogatory term) in Dev's crew: Don Milne-Marlin,
Jonathon Boocock, Jeff Reece and Gary Bolton.
Qualifying with a 1:13 swim
is slightly embarrassing, but it was still an Ironman PB for me. I wouldn't have
been able to have such a relaxed, easy swim without the help of Carleton
Masters' swim instructors Mits Kachi and Lynn Marshall. The slow swim is the
fault of the student, not the teachers. Also thanks to lanemates Vincent
Stapleton and Mike Scherman who allowed me to draft behind them when I showed up
at pooped at the start of our evening Masters' sessions.
In the last
couple of years Zoe and I have done Rideau Lakes and become friends with Marcel
Brugger, Geoff Williams and Dean Hosiak, all excellent cyclists and triathletes.
Another person in that group is Mike Wall. Mike's an excellent athlete and a
very dear friend of ours; I know he'll qualify for Kona next year.
I know
I'm going to miss many people here, but I'd like to thank the Ottawa triathletes
who we shared time with in Penticton, or who went all the way to Penticton just
to watch the race: Glenn, Eric, Rich, Rod, Ted, Paul, Ross, Jasi, Darren, Ann,
David, Kevin, Bev, Micheline, Jim, Marcel, Rudy and Joan, Rick and Nancy, Jamie
& Erin, Heather, Ellen. Sorry, I know there were many more of you
there.
Needless to say, thanks to my partner in life as well as training,
Zoe, and to my parents, who've all given me unstinting support.
All of
colleagues at the Citizen have been amazing in their support on my road to Kona,
especially my manager, Louise Rachlis. They were awesome in putting up with a
starving biker coming in mid-morning (and working late, in case any other
Citizen managers are reading this). When I returned to work following Ironman
Canada I found my desk covered in Hawaiian leis and pineapple tops, along with a
huge Congrats card signed by my co-workers. I had been pretty blasé about having
qualified until then, but I broke into tears when I saw this.
Finally,
thanks to Barry Dmitruk, the Kona Express. We ride the same model Trek Hilo 1000
bikes and have the same Hed-3 race wheels. Barry made me realize that an, ummm,
"aquatically challenged" triathlete (him much less so than me) could get to
Kona. Barry's fully worthy of the Kona Express monikor, as I believe he's
qualified outright (i.e.. without rolldown) three times for Kona. I don't want
to tread on his nickname, but if he's the Kona Express, and I manage to snag the
final rolldown spot at the end of the train, just call me ... the Kona
Caboose!
Aloha!
P.S. Any recommendations on flights / lodging /
race tips / things to see / places to go surfing after Ironman Hawaii would be
greatly appreciated. Please email me directly.
Chris Macknie
cmacknie@thecitizen.canwest.com
The Kona Caboose!
