Ironman Coeur d'Alene - Sunday 6/26/11 - Race Day! - BIKE
As I exited the bike transition area, I was still a bit wobbly from the swim. Iron Phil was shouting to me from the sideline as he snapped photos, and I happily waved before mounting my trusty steed. It felt good to be spinning away in a low gear, delighting in the fact that I was out of that freezing lake. I reached into my frame mounted bento bag for a gel snack, as I have done dozens of times before, but my equilibrium was still a bit off, and the task was shakier than usual. I managed to pop a few gel blasts in my mouth, and washed it down with my Powerbar Perform/Carbo Pro cocktail.
The downtown streets were lined with cheering spectators, and that really got me fired up to crank! But alas, I knew I had to pace myself, so I resisted the temptation to blow through. As I got further from town, the cheers were fewer, but hearty nonetheless. People in front of their houses, at bus stops, outside convenience stores, etc. were rooting on every bike that rolled past them. There was even a live band in front of one of the high schools! I kept thinking "what a great bike course, it's so chill and laid back!" Then I realized I spoke too soon.
The course quickly went from suburban to rural, and lo and behold, the climbing began. Granted, I have been through a few tough centuries, and riding regularly in the SF East Bay yields some decent elevation, so 4000 total feet of climbing didn't seem too intimidating on paper. Well, I quickly realized I was not riding on paper. The sun was out and the weather warmed up fairly rapidly. I was still wearing my black arm warmers but I pulled over to take off my vest. The first substantial climb was English Point, which was a low gear grunter that didn't really last that long. After that was a nice downhill followed immediately by another short climb. It went on like this for a long time, never really allowing me to get into a groove. But the roads were well paved, and the scenery was beautiful. I felt very much alive as I rode with, passed, and got passed by all of my fellow competitors.
I cleared the first round of hills and headed back into town from Hayden Lake. I knew I had to do it all over again, but I didn't dwell on the fact, I just tried to remember certain landmarks. I pulled back into town and the cheering crowds re-energized me. From there the bike course runs parallel to the marathon course, but goes out a little further along Lake CDA. I was only at mile 56 or so, and didn't realize how warm and dehydrated I was. I turned a corner and started up a short hill when it hit me - hamstring cramp!
My right leg almost seized but I caught it in time to straighten it out, shout "Slowing!" and pulled to the right. I successfully dismounted though in my head I was convinced that I would not be able to clip out gracefully. I stood next to my bike, right leg stretched out, bent at the waist. I couldn't believe it, I NEVER cramp on the bike. I remember what Coach Simon told me last year when I cramped - drink more than you think you have to. I popped a theralyte tablet, and sucked water out of my Speedfil system. Then I grabbed my bottle of Ironman/CarboPro and gulped it down. At this point, doubt crept into my mind. Would I finish the bike? If I did, would the cramp haunt me during the run? Could I finish this thing? Would I have travelled all this way to be an Ironman, or just a really fit tourist? Aaaargh.
As I was doing my best to handle the situation, I noticed two ladies that were on the hill cheering people on. They noticed me too, and walked in my direction. They approached and asked what was wrong. I explained my situation and they promptly went to work massaging my thigh. They asked what else they can do for me, and I let them know that they were already doing enough. No this was not a page out of Penthouse Forums, but it was certainly nothing I've ever experienced before. I'm telling you that support at Ironman races is amazing.
When they were done, I just let out a big sigh and said "oh man, this is tough". Then one of the ladies spotted the sticker on my bike. It was a photo of my father that read "This one's for you, Pa". She pointed it at it and told me flat out "Well there's your reason right there. You can do this." They wished me well and went on their merry way. She was right, and I knew it. This one was for Pa. I was not about to let him down. Another guy pulled up and asked me how I was doing. We chatted for a while and he gave me lots of words of encouragement. After 20 minutes or so, my cramp subsided and I began my walk up the hill. I was feeling good, so I mounted my bike and spun lightly till I got to the peak. I crested the hill then popped into high gear until I hit the special needs section at mile 60.
The volunteers had my special needs bag ready for me as I rounded the turnaround point. I refilled my bottle, ate my Pringles, and reapplied my chamois butter. I headed back to town then back out to the hills. I rode conservatively and hydrated judiciously, taking the water and Powerbar drinks at each water stop. My diligence in hydration inevitably led to several pit stops, as I am not very keen about peeing myself on the bike. Yet.
The hills at CDA were not one-punch knockouts like some of the monster climbs that you experience in the Bay Area. Rather, they are like quick, sharp jabs and body blows that wear you down over time. The day grew long, the sun shifted, and riders were already talking about cutoff times. I was fairly confident that I would make all the bike cutoffs, but I didn't want to leave anything to chance. I pressed on, encouraging and be encouraged by many riders that were heading back to town for the dismount. I was chatting with a fellow TNTer from another state as we made the final turnaround and headed back to transition.
I dismounted and handed my bike to an enthusiastic volunteer. Everyone in the area congratulated me and cheered me on. Another volunteer handed me my bag, and I headed into the changing tent for the final chapter of the day: the marathon.
Click HERE to go to Race Day RUN!
The downtown streets were lined with cheering spectators, and that really got me fired up to crank! But alas, I knew I had to pace myself, so I resisted the temptation to blow through. As I got further from town, the cheers were fewer, but hearty nonetheless. People in front of their houses, at bus stops, outside convenience stores, etc. were rooting on every bike that rolled past them. There was even a live band in front of one of the high schools! I kept thinking "what a great bike course, it's so chill and laid back!" Then I realized I spoke too soon.
The course quickly went from suburban to rural, and lo and behold, the climbing began. Granted, I have been through a few tough centuries, and riding regularly in the SF East Bay yields some decent elevation, so 4000 total feet of climbing didn't seem too intimidating on paper. Well, I quickly realized I was not riding on paper. The sun was out and the weather warmed up fairly rapidly. I was still wearing my black arm warmers but I pulled over to take off my vest. The first substantial climb was English Point, which was a low gear grunter that didn't really last that long. After that was a nice downhill followed immediately by another short climb. It went on like this for a long time, never really allowing me to get into a groove. But the roads were well paved, and the scenery was beautiful. I felt very much alive as I rode with, passed, and got passed by all of my fellow competitors.
I cleared the first round of hills and headed back into town from Hayden Lake. I knew I had to do it all over again, but I didn't dwell on the fact, I just tried to remember certain landmarks. I pulled back into town and the cheering crowds re-energized me. From there the bike course runs parallel to the marathon course, but goes out a little further along Lake CDA. I was only at mile 56 or so, and didn't realize how warm and dehydrated I was. I turned a corner and started up a short hill when it hit me - hamstring cramp!
My right leg almost seized but I caught it in time to straighten it out, shout "Slowing!" and pulled to the right. I successfully dismounted though in my head I was convinced that I would not be able to clip out gracefully. I stood next to my bike, right leg stretched out, bent at the waist. I couldn't believe it, I NEVER cramp on the bike. I remember what Coach Simon told me last year when I cramped - drink more than you think you have to. I popped a theralyte tablet, and sucked water out of my Speedfil system. Then I grabbed my bottle of Ironman/CarboPro and gulped it down. At this point, doubt crept into my mind. Would I finish the bike? If I did, would the cramp haunt me during the run? Could I finish this thing? Would I have travelled all this way to be an Ironman, or just a really fit tourist? Aaaargh.
As I was doing my best to handle the situation, I noticed two ladies that were on the hill cheering people on. They noticed me too, and walked in my direction. They approached and asked what was wrong. I explained my situation and they promptly went to work massaging my thigh. They asked what else they can do for me, and I let them know that they were already doing enough. No this was not a page out of Penthouse Forums, but it was certainly nothing I've ever experienced before. I'm telling you that support at Ironman races is amazing.
When they were done, I just let out a big sigh and said "oh man, this is tough". Then one of the ladies spotted the sticker on my bike. It was a photo of my father that read "This one's for you, Pa". She pointed it at it and told me flat out "Well there's your reason right there. You can do this." They wished me well and went on their merry way. She was right, and I knew it. This one was for Pa. I was not about to let him down. Another guy pulled up and asked me how I was doing. We chatted for a while and he gave me lots of words of encouragement. After 20 minutes or so, my cramp subsided and I began my walk up the hill. I was feeling good, so I mounted my bike and spun lightly till I got to the peak. I crested the hill then popped into high gear until I hit the special needs section at mile 60.
The volunteers had my special needs bag ready for me as I rounded the turnaround point. I refilled my bottle, ate my Pringles, and reapplied my chamois butter. I headed back to town then back out to the hills. I rode conservatively and hydrated judiciously, taking the water and Powerbar drinks at each water stop. My diligence in hydration inevitably led to several pit stops, as I am not very keen about peeing myself on the bike. Yet.
The hills at CDA were not one-punch knockouts like some of the monster climbs that you experience in the Bay Area. Rather, they are like quick, sharp jabs and body blows that wear you down over time. The day grew long, the sun shifted, and riders were already talking about cutoff times. I was fairly confident that I would make all the bike cutoffs, but I didn't want to leave anything to chance. I pressed on, encouraging and be encouraged by many riders that were heading back to town for the dismount. I was chatting with a fellow TNTer from another state as we made the final turnaround and headed back to transition.
I dismounted and handed my bike to an enthusiastic volunteer. Everyone in the area congratulated me and cheered me on. Another volunteer handed me my bag, and I headed into the changing tent for the final chapter of the day: the marathon.
Click HERE to go to Race Day RUN!
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