Thursday, September 29, 2011

Birkie Trail Marathon


Race Report from LPTRunner Joe Fitzgibbon:  9/24/11 – Birkie Trail Marathon -http://www.birkie.com/page/show/110428-birkie-trail-run-and-trek

So…a little background.  Ever since I got back into running, I’ve been kind of intrigued with the idea of spending my birthday running my age.  Don’t get me wrong, beer, parties, cake & ice-cream, birthday gifts, a few birthday brews – these are all great things.  But if you really enjoy running, some time out in the woods reflecting on the years that have past and striding out a bunch of miles seems like a great way to mark the occasion.  2 of my daughters turned 6 on September 24th.  So with a healthy level of transference and some creative math, I decided to run the Birkie marathon on their birthday.  Following the same logic and with some even more creative math, my wife Sarah signed up for the half marathon trek.

The Birkie marathon is now in its second year.  It is a point to point race from Hayward to Cable, through the Chequamegon National forest.  This is the same trail that carries 11,000 skiers on the Great American Berkabiner race every February.  So you can imagine the setting; a 20 foot wide trail through tall forestation.  It is groomed, freshly mowed and runs like a very hilly golf course.  Fast!

Enough background, here is the report.

The alarm goes off at 4:55.  Sarah and I get up and manage to eat breakfast and get out of the cabin without wakening any of the kids or Grandma and Grandpa.  We drive through winding gravel roads until we get to the Telemark resort just outside of Cable.  Arriving at the resort, we follow the smell of charcoal and roasting pigs to the finish line where we find some great race volunteers cheerfully handing out race bibs and drop bags.  By 7:00 I am on a bus to the marathon starting line, and Sarah will soon be on her way to the start of the half.

The starting line of the marathon is very low key.  There is no timing matt, no blow up archway, no advertising and few spectators.  There are 81 runners, a start line, a race director with a bullhorn and a path that leads into the forest.  Perfect!

At 8:00 the race director counts down the start and we are off into the woods.
Now, I’ve heard the advice that in preparing for a race you should have an optimistic goal and a secondary, more realistic goal.  That way you have something to fall back on if the race doesn’t go your way.  I think that is one of the worst ideas I have ever heard.  I am a firm believer in keeping things simple.  1 goal and you either meet it or you don’t.  Anything more complicated than that, and I am bound to lose track.  So my goal in this race; catch up to Sarah a few miles before the finish and pace her through the last miles of her first half marathon.

 The first 20 miles of the race breezed by pretty easily.  The hilly terrain and the constant turning of the trail prevent you from seeing very far ahead.  After the first two miles, I could never see more than a couple people ahead or behind me for very long stretches.  So it started to feel a lot like a Saturday morning run at Lapham Peak.  I did the math ahead of time knew that I needed to maintain 10 minute miles if I was going to meet up with Sarah later in the race.  As I passed the mile markers and touched the “split” button on my watch, I was pleasantly surprised to see mid 9s over and over.

At mile 23 I finally saw Sarah up ahead.  I was gradually catching up to her when she looked back and spotted me.  She stopped on the trail and started walking my way.  So naturally I call out, “Keep going!  This is your race!”





I’ll spare you the details of the last 3 miles.  Mostly husband and wife stuff, trying to remember all the crazy things we experienced having twins 6 years earlier, while striding through those last few miles.  At the finish line we spot the whole family; my parents, Sarah’s parents and our 4 energetic daughters.



The Birkie race volunteers really know how to put on the post race party.  A few minutes later we are refueling with BBQ sandwiches and Angry Minnow Oktoberfest beer.  We head back to the cabin for some cake & ice-cream, presents and a couple of birthday brews (again, transference).


Happy Birthday Kate and Norah!


North Face 50 MILE - Ashley Kumlien's Race Report!

LPTRunner Ashely Kumlien CRUSHED the NF 50 mile!  Here's her report as copied from her blog... You can keep up with her posts on her personal site as listed on the sidebar for LPTR member blogs...


September 19th, 2011
I’m not exactly sure where to start writing this blog.  I know I should write it right now, while the feelings and emotions from this weekend’s 50-mile race are still fresh.  Plus, I have a crazy busy week planned ahead with two out-of-state speaking events for MS and another 50-mile race in Colorado in 7 days, but…where to start?
This is probably difficult for me to get out because the race was a completely surreal experience.  I simply cannot explain why my body allowed me to run the time that I did.  Compared to my 50-mile races in 2009, my personal challenge of finishing in under 9 hours was a lofty goal.  My running buddy, Aaron Schneider, and I were speaking on Thursday about the game plan for Saturday’s race; he committed to crewing the race for me, so we had to coordinate what I expected from the race with how he was going to help me at the aid stations along the way.  The brief pause he produced after I told him I wanted to break 9 hours said it all; we had been running together since June so he knows my pace and capabilities.  We both knew that breaking 9 hours would be a big accomplishment for me, but he was in.
Saturday morning at 2:50am I woke up before my alarm went off feeling well rested and ready to run.  In packing my race bag the night before, I reminded myself not to over think things.  Fifty miles; I could run fifty miles.  I had done it before, I could do it again.  “Just stick to what you know.  Stick with what works” I kept telling myself.  Fifty miles in 9 hours, shaving 39 minutes off my current personal record.  I felt ready.
Driving out to the course I felt excited.  I had been excited all week, and tried to focus on staying calm.  I’m notorious for hitting the early miles hard and paying for it later.  Aaron has experienced this as we logged 20-mile training runs where I would jump around the trails like an idiot playing “Running Ninja” while singing, and then would pay for it later as Aaron kicked my butt and chuckled at me for the last 10-miles, “Where’d the Ninja go?” he would tease.  Hitting the early miles hard in a 50-mile race is suicide.
Meeting Aaron at the Ottawa Lake parking lot we went over everything one more time, played the weekend theme song, and then headed to the start just a squeak before 5am.  Dean Karnazes, the Ultramarathon Man, set the group off just after a show of hands reveling that half the field was new to this experience.  New 50-mile racers can be dangerous; by being new to the distance, usually excitement an cause them to go out too fast not respecting the length of the race.  I had to remember to run my pace despite what the other runners did.  The countdown started…3…2…1….GO!
50 miles to go.
The first aid station was a nice 6.6 miles into the course.  Following the glow sticks that lead the way I reminded myself to take it easy.  Other runners were out of the gate faster then I knew I should be running, so the real challenge was keeping my pace no matter what went on around me.  Aaron had charted out my pace/time in order break 9 hours, and as I glanced down at my watch entering Aid Station #1 I knew I had gone out too fast, coming in 45 minutes ahead of my schedule arrival.  “Well, so much for taking your time.  Did you even walk the hills at all?” Aaron asked as he shook his head.  I just grinned from ear to ear. “Sorry, I tried I think.  I’ll slow down, I promise,” I replied.  It was dark and cool so it was easy to run faster.  The threat of the Running Ninja emerging was something we both knew was very possible.  Slow down or you will lose it at the end; was the message we both knew I needed to take seriously.
43.3 miles to go.
For the next 4.5 miles I took it slower.  I still wanted to keep a good pace but didn’t want to over do it.  I hiked the hills strong and fast, and let me legs do their thing on the flat trail.
Coming into Aid Station #2 I was still early, but had slowed it up.  Aaron got me all set to go for my next section, gave me a high-five, and sent me on my way.  For the next 10 miles I’d be going at it alone in terms of support; the next Aid Station the crew could access wasn’t until 21.2 miles.  I barely heard Aaron call out as I entered the woods, “Oh Ashley, you’re 8th female!”
38.8 miles to go.
As the sky started to lighten up, I tucked away my headlamp early.  The sooner I could just enjoy the natural state of the trail, the better.  The air was cool and the morning was perfect.  We couldn’t have requested better weather to run an ultramarathon.  Just as I was getting into my rhythm, runners started blowing past me like I was standing still.  We were literally only in the first quarter of the race & these runners were hitting it like the finish was just around the corner.  Again, I had to tell myself to keep my own pace.  It’s so, so difficult to not pick up the speed when runners are flying by, especially when I already know I went out quick.  “I will catch them later,” I had to repeat to myself, “It’s way too early to go.”
Besides being passed ever so often, I was on the trail all by myself, which is something that has rarely happened to me at the beginning of an ultra.  For one reason or another I usually end up near another runner, or a pack, and stay pace with them to chat for a bit.  This morning it was just me and the trail.  It was beautiful.  I smiled and spread my arms out wide as I kicked up the dirt behind me.  There are no better moments then ones like this running out in the woods, race or not.  My breath was deep and my heart was happy as I absorbed every sensation I could.  In these moments I don’t have to be anything else except a part of the trail.  It’s hard to top that feeling.
During sunrise I emerged from the woods into an open meadow.  I let my left hand brush the yellow flowers reaching into the path, as I ran and glanced over to the sun.  The cool morning and rising sun allowed for just a contrast in weather to leave a light fog hovering over the tall grass.  “It’s a beautiful morning!  Ooooooh ooooooh” I sang out loudly.
Picture from Aaron's Blackberry
In the meadow I picked up the pace.  Mentally I had split the race into quarters pre-deciding that if I felt good at 15-miles I would pick the pace up just a notch.  Just before the 16.5-mile Aid Station (#3) I passed three more women on the trail.  If Aaron’s counting was correct, I had moved myself up into 5th place for the female division.  I barely noticed though as I heard the distant calling of the Aid Station cow bells.  Food was all I could think about, no matter what place I was in.
I did a side-shuffle shimmy into the Aid Station to show off my number and gained a few laughs.  “What do ya need Ash?” the volunteers asked.  “I don’t know! I don’t know! I’m freaking out, how much farther is it?!?!?” I joked.  They laughed some more as I smiled, chugged some Coca-cola, burped out loud, and then jumped in the air before leaving.  So far the runners I had experienced were taking this race with their serious-shorts on a little too tight, and to me, 16.5-miles in was way too early to be serious.
Coincidentally I also took two salt tablet pills from two women sitting in the Aid Station looking a little defeated.  I couldn’t be sure, but I believe they were part of the group of runners that flew by me earlier in the race.  It didn’t dawn on me until later when I came into Aid Station #4, but that put me in 3rd place.
33.5 miles to go.
I apparently was having just a little bit too much fun during the next 4.7 miles because some where along the way I got lost.  I felt I had been running long enough to be at the next Aid Station, and there were absolutely no trail markings, but I also didn’t want to go back.  Luckily I found my way without putting on too many extra miles and shrugged the experience off quickly.  I told the Aid Station volunteers about getting lost, as I didn’t want it to be disqualified for going off course, but they informed me that I was still okay to run if I wanted to keep going.  My choices were to dwell on the extra miles and ruin the day, or let it go and have some fun.  I chose to have some fun and made conversation as I hovered over the food.  Aaron came up behind me and turned me around quickly, “Ashley, you’re in 3rd place, take the food and go! You aren’t just running this thing anymore,  you’re racing it! Get out of here!” I took my hands and placed them on his shoulders while shaking him, “Oh my gosh, Aaron! What are we going to do?!?!” I joked.  But he pushed me to the trail and pointed to the girl who had just passed me while I was kidding around, “Go get her Ashley! She’s in your place!”
28.8 miles to go.
I headed down the trail and picked up the pace again.  I had passed a good amount of runners that were burning out along the way, but the possibility of actually placing in this race took hold and my competitive spirit emerged.  As I passed the girl in front of me, she held on and made friendly conversation.  I chatted for a few miles, but then decided to get going.  Though she was very nice and I knew I should continue to be friendly, I wanted to secure 3rd place; not to mention the fact that talking can really waste valuable energy.  I waved her good luck as I started to pull away.  She was strong but was wasting a lot of energy running uphill.  I have an advantage that I know of during an ultramarathon; I can hike a hill just as fast (if not faster) than most runners can run.  I was hiking and she was running, yet my hiking saved my legs a whole lot of energy and I started to widen the gap between us during each incline.
The section I was running was a out-and-back trail where I could see the race leaders and their distance ahead of me.  I didn’t actually believe how well I was doing until I was able to view the leaders coming back from the turn around.  I glanced at my watch both times as I saw 1st & 2nd place females coming down the trail.  The leading female had a good 25 minute lead on me, but 2nd place was in striking distance with only a 10 minute lead.  As she passed me on the trail her head was down and her face was contorted.  She was in pain and I wanted to catch her.
Coming into Aid Station #5 I had the joy of seeing a few friends from the Lapham Peak Trail Running group I am a part of.  They had just completed their own 6-mile run & stuck around to see me come through.  Melinda ran to her car to get me more salt tablets as Jose’s dog licked my face.  Aaron was there too, ready in his running gear to join me on the trail as a Pacer for the next 7-miles.  “Hey, we heard you were running fast! How’s it going?  You’re in 3rd place, right?”Jose asked.  “Yeah, it’s going great so far,” I smiled.  But Aaron tugged on my shirt and we headed down the trail as the 4th place female entered the Aid Station.  I needed to keep my lead on her and increase the gap.  I wouldn’t feel this fantastic forever, and Aaron and I both knew that.
21.8 miles to go.
I took the lead spot on the trail with Aaron pushing the pace from behind.  I always feel faster if I’m in front and can see the trail.  We found a rhythm quickly and Aaron started chatting away.  Again, I didn’t want to waste valuable energy by talking, and Aaron and I have become very good at running with together so he knew how to take over the conversation with little feedback on my end.
Just before Aid Station #5 my hamstring and glut muscles started to let me know how they felt about the pace.  They weren’t screaming by any means; this was more of a faint whisper that was the prelude to the screaming session that would inevitably happen.  The whispers from my muscles were more than bearable; it was the thoughts of what was ahead I had to prepare myself for.  As I gave Aaron an update of my condition, he gave me valuable advice that I would later repeat to myself until I reached the finish line.
You started this, and now you will have to finish it.
You set the pace.  You chose this.  There is no way you can let up now.
When the hills bite, you bite back.  From this point on, nothing is going to feel good.
Go get 2nd place.
The run to Aid Station #6, which was also the “back” portion of that out-and-back section; it was increasingly difficult, but fun and energizing.  I enjoyed having Aaron with me, and it was awesome to see all the runners that were hitting the 50-mile course.  It’s so serious in front.  I got more smiles from the middle and back of the pack then I had experienced all day from the other runners I had seen.  I waved and smiled and enjoyed all their colorful crazy outfits.  “Oh, so that’s where all the happy people are,” I said to Aaron.  He responded by reminding me I was holding a pace faster then I even realized.  “Ashley, you keep this pace and you are definitely breaking 9 hours.”
Into Aid Station #6 Aaron had me lay down on my back and hug my knees as he got my fuel pack restocked and my carb/protein shake ready.  I sucked down the shake, popped 2 Advil, took two more salt tablets, and headed toward the food table.  As I got down on my knees and had the volunteer open the spout for ice cold water to pour over my head, the 4th place female passed me and took my spot.  Aaron pulled me up, “Ash, ya gotta get going!” I sighed as I brushed the grass off my knees and outfit, “Aaron, the ground made my clothes all dirty!” He rolled his eyes as I jokingly asked for my mascara, and I took off to regain my spot.
14.6 miles to go.
For a boost I grabbed Aaron’s iPod which he set to Dance Mix.  Though I usually go without music, at this point in the race the beat can be great to keep your feet moving fast.  It didn’t take long before I caught up to and passed the 3rd place female again.  With the brief few minutes Aaron and I took in the Aid Station I already knew the time was well spent.  I felt refreshed and knew I had the fuel in me that would keep me going to the finish.  The other female didn’t take much time, if she stopped at all.  Once I passed her I knew she wouldn’t be passing me again; my pace was too strong and I could feel that she was holding on with everything she had.
I set my sights on the 2nd place as a spectator yelled to me that she was only a minute ahead.  2nd place; who would have thought that was even possible for me today? Not me, that’s for sure.  But here I was chasing it down and close enough to grab it.  A few more miles in I spotted her and tried to assess her stride.  I had a few options.  I could stay behind her, not letting her know I was this close, or I could pass and go as hard as I could to create a gap.  She didn’t look strong, but she didn’t look weak either.  I decided to go for it.
As I inched closer and closer to her, I also started to notice other runners on the trail.  At this point, the 50-mile racers were meeting up with the 50K racers, the marathon racers, and the marathon relay racers.  The course was littered with other runners now.  We were just 10-miles to the finish.
Just at the top of a hill I passed the female and positioned myself in 2nd place.  The glory of the spot was short lived as she saw me pass, looked at my bib color, and realized she had just lost her spot.  She re-energized and took off down the trail at a pace faster than I could hold.  I knew we had 10-miles left so I hoped she would wear herself out and I would catch her again.  Turns out she had more in the tank then I could have thought.  I didn’t see her again until the finish, and after assessing the race results, I realized my pass on her lit a fire in her big enough for her to almost catch first.
I spent a brief reprieve at Aid Station #7 as I sipped on water and swore to myself under my breath.  My stomach was shot so I couldn’t eat anything, I started feeling a pang of nausea I wanted to avoid, my muscles were screaming now, and my energy levels were low.  The real battle had begun and the true test now was to see if I could dig deep to hold my pace and my 3rd place spot to the finish.  When there is nothing left, you find out what kind of runner you really are.
9.7 miles to go.
To our advantage the last 5 miles of the race course is fairly flat.  I just had to muck through a few more Kettle Moraine’s before I was hitting the open fields with whatever I had left.  I kept my gaze forward and started using the runners in the other races as new goals I would set for myself.  As I passed by a runner, I would pick a new one to track down.
I also focused on the ground and told myself it was there to propel me forward.  Each step I imagined receiving energy from the dirt allowing my feet as little time as possible on the earth.  I picked the spot on the trail with the least amount of debris and tried to run as clean and smooth as possible.  As I crossed an open field and rounded a group of trees, I heard a crazy person yelling my name.  Aaron had run down the trail 100 yards to encourage me to keep pace and clear through the upcoming Aid Station.  “You’re almost done, Ashley.  Go get it! You have 3.7 miles left.  You can do this! You can do this!” Aaron yelled.  I dumped water on my face and down my neck as I swore some more.  “Okay, okay. I can do it! Okay. I’m gone,” I muttered.
3.7 miles to go.
I would love to paint a beautiful picture of a strong and glorious finish, but that it was not.  Threads; I was hanging on by threads.  Teansy, tiny, little threads that went something to the tune of, “If I can hold on and place third, Dean Karnazes gives me a medal on stage.” My calves felt more fatigued then I believe I have ever experienced.  My quadriceps muscles were tore to pieces, so much so, I was shocked I was still standing, nonetheless even running.  My hamstrings were barely functional.  I imagined the 4th place female gaining on me, and I hurled myself forward just to hold my spot.  The pain was excruciating.
In the final mile I glanced at my watch to realize I might actually be able to break a 8-hour finishing time.  As I cleared the woods onto the road I pulled out every possible ounce of energy I had left.  I used my arms to pump, hoping my legs would follow.  A sharp right turn into the Ottawa Lake Parking area, and I continued turning my legs over with what they would give me until I saw the big red North Face Endurance Challenge arch that marked the finish.  I could hear the music and the crowd but all I could think about was the relief from all the pain…if I could just get there.
As I crossed under the arch I did the one thing I had wanted to do for the last 9 miles; I collapsed to the ground and started to dry heave.  Thankfully there was nothing in my stomach or I would have made a mess of the finishing area.  Aaron was by my side quickly to pick me up with the help of a medic.  I literally could not use or control my legs, so they carried my weight as I stumbled to the medical tent.
0 miles to go.
Once I was laying down on a cot I was back to my happy self.  With a blanket over my body to keep off the chill and a bag of Salt and Vinegar chips opened by my side, I tried to assess what just happened.
I broke 8-hours in a 50-mile race with an official time of 7 hours 59 minutes 9 seconds.  I placed 3rd in the Female division.  I took 19th place overall.  Dean Karnazes would be giving me a medal on stage.  I started to cry.  The results were more than I ever could have dreamed of.  The experience was more then I ever could have hoped for.  “How is this even possible?” I kept asking myself over and over.  I felt like the whole day was just a dream, but one that I was living wide awake.  The tears were still coming as Aaron entered the tent.
He just looked at me, gave me a high-five, and started laughing,  “Dude, you broke 8-hours.  Holy S#*!.”
Me in the medical tent post-finish
Receiving my medal from Dean Karnazes

2011 Ironman - Bruce Udell's Race Report


Bruce Udell's IronMan race report...

Several people have been asking for this and it is also meant as a recap of my day for all who contributed to the Children's Dyslexia Center of Madison - So here it is.  It's kind of long, but, so was the race.  It is written with several different audiences in mind, so bear with it... 

Prelude

My fourth Ironman quest began when I entered a new age group for the race and my two running partners from work, Erik Beaver and Dave Nowotny, as well as my high school/college buddy Robin Tran (in Colorado) all decided to make their first attempts at the race.  My previous IM races had all involved little training and less than ideal weather (89-93 degrees or 56 degrees and rain).  My first race in 2003 (13:32 finishing time) was on 3 weeks notice (thanks to a free entry from a race sponsor) with a long training bike ride of 50 miles.  In 2004 (12:58) I got a 7 week notice and a long ride in of 80 miles.  For 2006 I entered the race through the normal process and did one bike ride over 100 miles prior to the race, finishing IM in 11:36 in the cold and rain.  While I had trained much more significantly in 2006 I knew my biking could still use a lot of work and that I could be faster.  For 2011 I also was asked to be an ambassador and fund raiser for the Children’s Dyslexia Center of Madison which added a new dimension and goals to my race preparation.
My training had a set back in early May of 2011when I got some tearing in my right hamstring during a track workout.  Luckily I was still able to run at slower paces and ran the Ice Age 50k a few days later placing first for Masters.  I was glad I could still run because three years earlier I badly tore my left hamstring and was out for six weeks.  It took two years to heal where I could run strong but I still suffer with cramping issues. 
Living in a small rural town (Columbus) limits my access to training groups and workout partners, especially for the required long bike rides.  Luckily I was able to coordinate several longer workouts with Erik and Dave and some training groups in Madison.  Not only were the longer workouts more bearable with friends but they also provided motivation for the times when you needed a push to get out the door.  I was worried my training would suffer during a June two week family vacation to the Grand Canyon.  Fortunately I was able to borrow a bike from Robin when we stopped in Colorado and got a few rides in up the Colorado National Monument. 
After completing the Door County ½ Ironman in July and months of buildup training I started my endurance workouts with back to back days riding 107 miles on the Ironman course as part of a training weekend with Endurance Nation.  Each ride was followed by a 6 mile run.  The 3rd day we ran the IM course for 13 miles.  The following weekend was the annual Headhunters Hell Brick.  We rode 116 miles (with pro Heather Gullnick) and ran 6.2 miles.  My biggest workout was a 7 hour day the next week (4 weeks out from IM), riding three IM loops with Erik for 126 miles and a 7 mile run.  Following this workout I stopped by an Amy’s Play Group (APG) party where I picked up a jersey to wear for the race (which worked great – no chaffing).  My weekend rides were supplemented by occasional bikes to work (26 miles each way).
 I was only swimming about 3 times a week and not as intensely as I had for my last IM but I did have Jerry Lourigan from Headhunters analyze my stroke to look for improvements.  Running was limited with my strained hamstring but I did run a marathon and two ½ marathons in early summer.  I found that my muscles warmed up on the bike and I could run well after long bike rides however my long runs were limited to a 16 and 18 miler.  It was running too hard on training runs that hampered my recovery as I restrained my hamstring a couple of times. 
We finally reached the start of a 3 week taper leading up to IM.  I reduced the mileage and effort each week but still put in some 3-5 hour days.  Race week I got a fast test ride in on carbon aero wheels midweek but took the rest of the week easy.  The day before the race Robin and I went for an 8 mile ride and did some strides to loosen the legs up.  Unfortunately the rest of the day was spent getting our bikes and gear to the IM site, running to 2 different family functions and shopping for last minute items.  Too much stress and time on the feet for the day before IM.

Race Day

My race day was hampered by a series of small failures most of which caused more anxiety and stress than anything but were distracting from my race day focus.  I woke up at 4:15 had some oatmeal and peanut butter & honey toast for breakfast.  Grabbed my frozen Gatorade and Gu bottles and headed to Madison about 4:45 though a heavy fog.  Several minutes down the road Robin exclaimed “we have to go back, I forgot my timing chip!”  “What?!” “How could you forget that?”  “What was the one thing I told you to do race morning?”  I had even checked his ankle at home to be sure he had it on but he was wearing calf sleeves rolled down over his ankle so I couldn’t see if it was there.  I answered “we can’t go back now that will put us 20 minutes behind and parking will be that much harder.”  While he kept insisting we turn around I assured him he could get a replacement chip at the swim start table.
The street parking was nearly filled at 5:15 when we got there.  I parked and Robin headed off to get a new chip, which turned out to be no problem.  I loaded my bottles on my bike and dropped my run bottles off in my transition bag.  I had brought a pump since everyone was worried about finding one that morning.  Robin’s family was to meet us to pick it up but I decided to run it back to the car (good choice since we couldn’t find them, but it took time).  Met up with Robin and Erik at the entrance to the convention center along with the APG contingent to put on our wetsuits.  At about 6:15 we started heading towards the water.  I had Erik zip me up since in practice he always had everything tucked in well where I didn’t get chafing from turning my head to breathe.  We separated as we entered the water and I headed to the other side of the ski ramp.  I planned on starting about 10 people back with a goal time of 1:15 however I found there was more room than usual and settled into a large void with only several people in front of me.  I expected it to fill in but it looked like everyone that came in after me stayed to (or only could get as far as) the right of the ski jump. 
The cannon went off without warning and we were under way.  I was pleasantly surprised by the lack of jostling, elbowing and kicking that I had experienced in previous IMs.  I was able to draft off other swimmers and had very little problems at the corners where it slowed down.  I checked my first lap and had a time of 37 minutes, right on target.  However, I noticed the field had thinned out on the second lap and I had trouble finding people to draft off as I was swimming on the inside of the marker buoys since I breathe on my right side.  As I neared the first corner on the second lap I took on elbow in the forehead but continued on.  At the next corner I sighted and took a wave in the face along with a mouth full of water.  I took a couple side strokes to cough out the water and then resumed the front crawl.  That was the only time I had to slow up other than the first corner the whole swim. 
I had noticed the back of my legs felt tight but kept blocking it out of my mind until I was about 150 yards from the last turn.  As I was swimming my arm hit another swimmer which sent a jolt through my body much like stubbing your toe at mile 28 of a long run.  This sudden stop sent my hamstrings into a cramp.  I had gotten them swimming in a pool before but always thought it had to do with pushing off the wall.  I slowed my stroke and had to stop kicking in fear they would lock up and I’d be looking for a kayak to grab onto.  I let my legs relax and sink because every time I tried to kick I could feel the cramps starting up.  I continued with a slow stoke to the finish coming out later than I planned.  Worse yet I knew that if my hamstrings had cramped on the swim they weren’t likely to last on the run.

           

LEG
DISTANCE
PACE
RANK
DIV.POS.
TOTAL SWIM
2.4 mi. (1:21:05)
2:08/100m
1370
158

Transition 1

Unfortunately I came out of the water with dozens of others and had to search for an available stripper to take off my wetsuit.  As I jogged up the helix I folded my wetsuit just as I had written in my prerace plan.  I entered the transition bag room and ran right to my bag with a blue t-shirt hanging out of the top for identification.  I tried to run into the changing room but it was so crowded I came to a slow walk and searched for a seat.  I quickly grabbed out what I needed and stuffed my swim gear in.  As I exited the center I paused long enough to get some sun screen slapped on my shoulders and neck.  I grabbed my bike and jogged barefoot to the end of the transition behind the dozens of other athletes trying to exit.  I tried to lean my bike against a post near the bike exit but it slipped down.  A volunteer picked it up and held it for me as I slipped my socks and bike shoes on.  I got out a couple minutes slower than I hoped for due to the congestion.  I was already about 6 minutes behind my plan overall.

T1: SWIM-TO-BIKE
7:07



Bike

I headed down John Nolen Drive and hit the no pass zone.  As I entered the tunnel under the road I saw a biker laying on the ground being assisted by 2 police officers, not a good start for that athlete.  As I continued through the Coliseum parking lot I heard my CO2 cartridges clinking.  I felt under my seat where I had taped my tire repair kit and felt it falling out.  I had meant to check it in the morning after it had sat in the hot sun all Saturday afternoon.  I figured I could put them into my bento box with my energy bars.  That is when I realized the next small failure.  In my morning haste I forgot to load my bars and gel shots, 600 calories of my nutrition plan – they were with my running flasks in my run transition bag.  I still had my Perpeteum, Gu, and Perform but had planned on some solids to keep my stomach in check.  Not a big deal but certainly unneeded stress and now I would have to do what I had told the others not to do, rely on the aid stations for Powerbars.  Since I had plenty of room in my Bento Box I tore my whole tire kit out from under my seat only to find that my tire wrench was already missing.  Now if I had a flat I was in trouble.  More stress.  I decided not worry about any of that and tried to get my mind back on the race.
The first several miles I took easy but it was a constant flow of bikers that I was mostly passing.  I then picked it up to a comfortable but harder pace and started passing a lot more bikers.  The corners were difficult as I wanted to fly through them but was hampered by the slower riders.  To further complicate matters it seemed like there was a motorcycle race marshal in site of me for over half of the first 40 miles.  I knew there were too many bikers to enforce the no drafting rule but I did see them write someone up for riding over the center line for a quarter mile.
We reached the Mount Horeb aid station but I was unable to find a Powerbar as I flew by.  Over the entire course I was only able to get 2 pieces of Powerbars at aid stations, not half of what I’d hoped for.  Leaving Mt Horeb I picked it up a notch but still felt I rode at a comfortable pace.  Now we started hitting the rolling hills.  I took it easy going up them but maximized my speed going down.  It all felt relatively easy as I had ridden the course a dozen times in training and was comfortable with every hill and turn, even the cracks in the road.
As I started the second loop I noticed the wind had picked up and felt the resistance as we headed towards Mt Horeb for a  second time.  By now the bikers had spread out and I was able to maximize my speed on most corners.  When we hit Garfield Road I noticed the next bikers were over 100 yards in front of me.  I knew this would allow me to take the 2 fast turns at top speed.  I hit the first curve at 36 mph and the second at 39 mph being just cautious enough to be able to maneuver if I needed to at the last second.  I felt strong but didn’t want to risk blowing up with leg cramps like I had in previous years.  At the top of one of the major hills I saw my favorite sign on the course: “So you did a marathon…how cute.” 
After going through the crowds in Verona I started back towards Madison.  The last 15 miles I played leap frog with 2 women bikers.  Every hill we came to they charged up it while I took it at an easier steady pace.  When we got to the flats I would pass them until the next hill.  I passed them again with about 5 miles to go and with no major hills left I never saw them again (on the bike).  I finished the Bike in 5:52, faster than my goal, and was back on target.

                       

LEG
DISTANCE
PACE
RANK
DIV.POS.

BIKE SPLIT 1: 54 mi
54 mi (2:47:32)
19.34 mi/h


BIKE SPLIT 2: 94 mi
40 mi (2:15:38)
17.69 mi/h


BIKE SPLIT 3: 112 mi
18 mi (47:59)
22.51 mi/h


TOTAL BIKE
112 mi (5:51:09)
19.14 mi/h
508
65



Transition 2

I hit the second transition on the run, saying sorry as I bumped by people in the bag room.  Slipped on my running shoes as a volunteer stuffed my bike helmet and shoes into the bag and I was off.  I got 10 yards away and realized I was still wearing my sweat band I use on the bike and not my running cap.  I ran back just before the volunteer tied my bag shut and he found my cap (which also still had my Garmin watch in it for pacing).  I ran outside and stopped long enough to use a porta potty (my only time the whole race).  I still managed to get out of the transition in under 3 minutes.

T2: BIKE-TO-RUN
2:57


Run                 

I was carrying my Garmin waiting for it to get satellite reception before I put it on.  The Garmin would allow me to pace myself so that I didn’t go out too fast which is easy to do coming off the bike.  However this was the next failure as I cursed it for 3 miles as it didn’t lock into the satellites for 25 minutes!  Talk about stress.  Luckily I ran smart at about an 8:20 pace for those miles.  I was feeling good running about an 8:00 pace but was shocked at about mile 5 when one of the women I played tag with near the end of the bike cruised by me at a 7:30 pace.  (After the race I looked her # up and saw that she “died” several miles later and I had passed her up again for good).  I was bewildered again a half mile later when I ran by Blake Becker, a local pro athlete, walking.  Of course he was on his second lap to my first.  I continued on through the aid stations filling my flasks as needed on the run.  As I came back past Camp Randall at about mile 11 both my hamstrings suddenly went into cramps.  I tried to keep moving but after 100 yards the cramps got so bad I had to stop in the middle of the road.  I was bent over holding the backs of my legs for 5 minutes waiting for the muscles to relax.  A couple runners offered me salt tablets and one driver offered me a ride, I said “not a chance.”  Finally I was able to start running again but knew that my racing was done.  Not sure if salt or fluids would help I started walking the aid stations to eat pretzels and drink Pepsi and Perform.  Physically and energy wise I felt great, I wanted to run hard but every time I got near an 8 minute pace I could feel the muscles starting to cramp and would have to cut way back.  As I ran past everyone walking up Bascom Hill on my second lap I must have pushed it too hard.  As soon as I reached the top my hamstrings locked up again stopping me for another 3 minutes.  Once they relaxed I headed down the other side trying to hold back to avoid another cramping session.  With a few miles to go I was feeling strong and started running through the aid stations again, knowing I had enough fluids on my running belt to get me to the finish.  As I rounded the last corner there was one runner in front of me and I turned it on (this was still a race).  I felt a twinge in my hamstrings and feared I would be reduced to a stumble across the finish line.  But my hamstrings held up and I flew by the other runner with 20 yards to go.  My run was still decent but was not close to the 3:30 marathon I know I’m capable of in Ironman or my IM PR of 3:41 in 2006.


                                               

LEG
DISTANCE
PACE
RANK
DIV.POS.

RUN SPLIT 1: 8.9 mi
8.9 mi (1:10:56)
7:58/mi


RUN SPLIT 2: 13.2 mi
4.3 mi (44:42)
10:23/mi


RUN SPLIT 3: 21.95 mi
8.75 mi (1:23:49)
9:34/mi


RUN SPLIT 4: 26.2 mi
4.25 mi (38:42)
9:06/mi


TOTAL RUN
26.2 mi (3:58:09)
9:05/mi
237
19

I was grabbed by a catcher after crossing the finishing line and told her I needed to keep moving or my legs would cramp.  She walked me around the finish line area for 15 minutes while other volunteers brought me water and chicken broth.  I said I really wanted food but she said I would have to leave the finish area for that.  Finally I spotted my family and told her I would go with them.  I scarfed down 3 pieces of pizza and then  checked on how Robin (who was in front of Erik) was doing on the computer.  There was no update on him for the last 4 mile section so I headed for a massage.  My brother Alan asked at the sign up how long my massage would last.  Since there was no wait at the time they said as long as he wants, Alan said he’d be back tomorrow to get me.  Actually my massage therapist said she would work on me as long as there were other therapists available, she being the teacher of the volunteers, there in training, could do that.  Not only did I get a great massage (since she was the teacher) but it lasted for over an hour.  In fact by the time it was done, Robin had finished, eaten/recovered and gotten his massage, done before mine.  After more pizza I went in search of Erik who had taken up residence in the Medical Tent finishing 10 minutes behind Robin in 12:31.  He was released shortly after recovering from a dizzy spell and we waited for Dave who came in at 15:32.
I capped off the evening with my brother Ken who had volunteered at the Headhunter aid station on the run with my son Jacob.  I was pleasantly surprised to find that Ken had stepped up, taking my role as the late shift captain and had gotten me a few leftover Powergels for future races.  After a quick beer we called it a night as it was after midnight and the race had ended.
Afterwards I realized that I didn’t spend enough time focusing on my own race, spending too much time making sure others had a successful race, although I enjoyed guiding them and seeing them make it to the finish line.  While my 11:20 finish time was not as fast as I hoped for I was happy with it as it was still an Ironman PR.  I finished 237th out of 2811 (top 10%) and 19th out of 327 (top 6%) in my age group. 
Special thanks to my family for putting up with the long hours of training and to everyone that came out to cheer us on.  The APG support was great and Chris Peters was everywhere.  Also thank you to everyone that contributed to the Children’s Dyslexia Center of Madison.  With the help of fundraising done by my father I raised over $2500 to help children overcome their learning disabilities and lead normal lives.




Bruce Udell

BIB
AGE
STATE/COUNTRY
PROFESSION
2238
45
Columbus WI USA
Miscellaneous

SWIM
BIKE
RUN
OVERALL
RANK
DIV.POS.
1:21:05
5:51:09
3:58:09
11:20:27
237
19

LEG
DISTANCE
PACE
RANK
DIV.POS.
TOTAL SWIM
2.4 mi. (1:21:05)
2:08/100m
1370
158


BIKE SPLIT 1: 54 mi
54 mi (2:47:32)
19.34 mi/h


BIKE SPLIT 2: 94 mi
40 mi (2:15:38)
17.69 mi/h


BIKE SPLIT 3: 112 mi
18 mi (47:59)
22.51 mi/h


TOTAL BIKE
112 mi (5:51:09)
19.14 mi/h
508
65


RUN SPLIT 1: 8.9 mi
8.9 mi (1:10:56)
7:58/mi


RUN SPLIT 2: 13.2 mi
4.3 mi (44:42)
10:23/mi


RUN SPLIT 3: 21.95 mi
8.75 mi (1:23:49)
9:34/mi


RUN SPLIT 4: 26.2 mi
4.25 mi (38:42)
9:06/mi


TOTAL RUN
26.2 mi (3:58:09)
9:05/mi
237
19


TRANSITION
TIME
T1: SWIM-TO-BIKE
7:07
T2: BIKE-TO-RUN
2:57