My First Ironman
There’s a short version and a long version (which is truly long, sorry). Thanks to all for your support and encouragement over the past year. This was an amazing experience…
Short Version
Swim 1:11 (2.4 miles)
Bike 6:03 (112 miles)
Run 5:36 (26.2 miles)
Total 13:11
Of all age-groupers: 792nd of 1877 (top 42%)
Of age-group (M25-29): 69th of 148 (top 47%)
Long Version (you can click on pictures to expand)
I slept around six hours Saturday night, despite the nerves. I would get anxious every time I thought about the following day. I had never attempted a marathon, and I was about to run one after seven-plus hours of swimming/biking. It was overwhelming to think about, but I tried to trust my training and not worry about it.
I felt I could break 12 hours if everything went perfectly, and 13 hours would be a solid effort. I was hoping for 1:15 on the swim, 6:00 on the bike and anywhere from 4:20+ on the marathon. But my ultimate goal was to finish, and given the forecast of 88 degrees, I decided to err on the side of eating/drinking too much and take a break in the shade if things got ugly. Just finish!
We arrived at Tempe Town Lake Park around 6am for a 7am start. I had dropped my bike and gear off the day before so the morning was pretty relaxed. As soon as I arrived I was body marked and headed into the transition area to make sure my bike was ready to go and put on my wetsuit. After getting some help with my wetsuit, I headed toward the swim entrance, along with almost 1900 others. The pros went off at 6:45am and then we were ordered into the water.
Swim
I jumped in and slowly swam the 150 yards to the swim start. The scene was amazing. We were spread out beneath 2 bridges, and there were hundreds (maybe thousands) of spectators lined up along the sides of the bridges and the shore, and some had climbed up under the bridges and others were hanging off light posts. I spent a few minutes trying to spot my support group, but there were just too many people, so I laid on my back and took it all in (luckily the water was fairly comfortable). I was surprisingly calm, even emotional. An entire year of preparation and training was about to be put to the test. I was ready.
The mayor of Tempe spoke, and someone sang the national anthem. At the end of the anthem a commercial jet flew right over us and I made a joke about a fly-by to a big laugh (less funny, more nerves). We were then given the two-minute warning, and I started to worry because my goggles were already fogging up. I ran my fingers over the inside of the glass and hoped for the best.
The cannon went off and the madness began. It was as crazy as anticipated. The sun was rising above the water straight down the course, so I couldn’t see anything in front of me. I had people climbing up my back and kicking me in front. I tried to protect my face with my arm on each stroke and focused on the sides of the canal for direction. After a few minutes things thinned out a bit (mostly because I was a little off course), and I got in a grove. I noticed the buildings moving by quickly and I was feeling great. My heart rate felt fairly low, my breathing was relaxed, and I wasn’t tired at all.
The course was about 1.1 miles out, then 200 yards left, then 1.2 miles back. I got to the first turn in what felt like good time (I had no watch), and I stopped to clear my goggles again. Com
ing back down the canal we could finally see because the sun was behind us. I decided to get back in the mix of swimmers to take advantage of the current being created along the buoys. I was risking a kick to the face but I felt the energy saved by a draft was worth the risk. The second half flew by, and I was pumped. I ran up the steps (swim time of 1:11 for 648th place) and lay down on my back as two women (called strippers) yanked off my wetsuit. I was yelling and cheering and had a huge smile. I ran down the chute to transition looking for familiar faces, and I finally ran past my parents and Elisabeth, yelling “piece of cake!”...
We were handed our bike gear bag and I ran into the change tent. There were volunteers everywhere, putting on sunscreen and helping with clothing. I took my time (as you can see from my 10 minute transition time – I wanted to make sure I didn’t forget anything). I ran out of the change tent, grabbed my bike and hit the road.
Bike
We rode out of town through crowd-lined streets. I was amazed at the number of spectators. My plan was to keep my heart rate fairly low for the first 20 minutes or so, but my heart rate monitor wasn’t working, so I just followed the crowd of bikers out of town and tried to take it easy. At mile 6 I pulled over to
get my heart rate monitor working, while it felt like hundreds rode past me.
The bike course was 3 loops of a 37-mile out-and-back. On the first out, we were into the wind and slightly uphill at the end so I only averaged about 18mph. The morning was very pleasant, but I tried to drink a lot for the hotter hours to come. I had a Clif bar at the beginning of the first loop and I took a water (20oz) and Gatorade Endurance (24oz) at most aid stations (about every 10 miles, or 30 mins). I was shooting for around 32oz of fluid an hour, so I wouldn’t finish the bottles but would take new (colder) ones because I’ve read cold fluids are absorbed faster than warm. I also ate Gu gels every hour or so.
The back part of the first loop was awesome. It was downhill and with the wind for the first few miles so I held speeds of around 30mph with little effort. I finished the rest of the first loop at 22mph, to bring my average to 19.8mph, ahead of pace.
The second loop was not quite as windy, so my out was a little faster. I passed some of my family on the way out and it gave me a boost for a few miles. However, my idea of drinking a lot began to catch up with me, and I had to pull over and pee two times on that two hour loop (I saw people going on themselves while riding but decided that wasn't for me). There were volunteers there to hold my bike while I ran into the port-a-john, and others ran over with bananas and sunscreen when I came out. I had a Cliff bar on the second out and picked up a peanut butter bagel at the midway point of the bike, of which I ate half. My average time was down to about 19.4mph after the second loop.
I still felt good on the third loop, but I again had to stop three times. I passed my mom and Elisabeth on my way out and that gave me another boost (they did a great job of finding me the e
ntire race). The wind had shifted and it was getting much hotter (it was around 2pm by this point), so the final back was much slower than the first. My total bike stoppage time was nearly eight minutes, bringing my average speed down from 19mph to 18.5mph. But I made my goal of six hours (6:03), so I was exactly where I wanted to be (except now I had to run a marathon).
The transition was fairly long again. I wasn’t worried about a minute or two when I’m thinking hours, so I took my time. I got more sunscreen and there was even a guy with rubber gloves and vasoline. I realized that I was 4.5 hours away from breaking 12 hours, but it was 2:30pm and the next few hours would be the hottest of the day.
Run
As soon as I began the run I realized it was going to be a long day. It was so hot – close to 90. I knew it was going to be a problem because I had spent most of the winter training in weather no warmer than the 50’s. The run course was 3 loops of slightly less than 9 miles. It was in a figure-eight shape so you came back into town twice on each loop.
I’d done a lot of bike/run workouts and I knew it would take a few minutes before I began to get my running legs. However, even after a few miles I didn’t seem to be getting any more comfortable. I had to stop again a few times and had to throw my goal of not walking out the window almost immediately. I was feeling miserable. The crowds were awesome and there were aid stations every mile or so with water, Gatorade, pretzels, gels, powerbars, oranges, and ice cold sponges. The sponges were a huge hit. Everyone stuffed them in their hats or shirts to help cool off. I took advantage of these at every opportunity but it didn’t seem to help.
The first loop was a disaster – around 2 hours. In training it would take me 1:15 to 1:30 to run this distance, even at the end of a long workout. I ran into Elisabeth and family at the end of the first loop and stopped to talk to them. I was beginning to feel better at this point and seeing them helped boost my energy and confidence.
I began to really run again and my next lap was a much more respectable 1:39. It was fast enough to surprise my family on the bridge. By the end of this lap I was beginning to feel nau
seous. I was drinking like crazy and eating gels often, worried about being worn down by the heat. I think I drank/ate too much. For one, I was peeing often, which I shouldn’t have been doing. And about a quarter-mile into my last lap I ended up on all fours emptying my stomach. This was right in the middle of the course, with people all around. I was expecting to feel better after but I didn’t. I stopped at the next aid station and got some water and salt pills, and a few miles later I did it again. This time, a race official was driving by and he stopped to check on me. I was terrified of getting pulled from the race, so I played it off and he allowed me to continue.
This was at about mile 20, and from then on I didn’t eat anything but ice. My goal was now to do everything possible to finish. My body and mind were telling me to lay down and take a break, but I knew if I did that I would never finish. It took everything I had to keep going. My stomach/abs were killing me, probably from throwing up so many times. My 13-hour goal was within reach, so I would try to run/jog every few minutes. But I could only go for a quarter mile or so before I had to start walking again. When my stomach would let me run I was fast, but it wouldn’t last long. Unfortunate since my legs were never tired nor cramped.
I saw my family one last time at mile 23, but I didn’t get much of a boost this time. It was around 7:30pm and the sun had set. I was in so much pain. I walked with a 50-something year old guy who was on his second loop. This was his 10th Ironman. As we walked I could see the finish area and hear the crowds across the river, and I was so focused on getting there. I felt bad for this guy and others who would have to pass the finish line for another 9-mile loop.
As I came across the Mill Ave. bridge one last time, my family was waiting for me. I didn’t look so good, and you could tell they were worried (especially Mom). I walked with them for a few hundred yards as I
approached the finish area. I could hear the music and the crowds. I came to the fork in the course where finishers head left and others right. There were still a lot of people heading out on their last lap, and the officials were putting glow-necklaces around their necks. I headed left towards the finish. I was just over my 13-hour goal but I could not have cared less. I was going to make it.
I rounded the corner and saw the finish line. There were no competitors in front of me – it was just me and the crowd. There were bleachers on each side with hundreds of people. The announcer was introducing me, and the crowd was screaming. There were lights pointed down on me, like the ones construction crews use on the highway at night. I could feel a rush coming over me. I got emotional. An entire year of planning, training, worrying, eating right, avoiding injury, and preparing all came down to these
30 seconds. The announcer was asking the crowd to encourage me to run, but I didn’t want to. Why rush it? What’s a few seconds on 13 hours? I just looked around with the biggest smile. The announcer yelled the famous words: “Joel Toms, you are an Ironman!!” I tried to moonwalk for a few feet but I was such a mess it just looked like I was walking backwards. Then I turned and ran the last few yards. I saw my dad at the last second and slapped his hand right before I crossed the tape.
I hope I never forget that moment. Those few seconds of satisfaction made hundreds of hours of training all worth it. During the last few hours of the run I was thinking how stupid this was and I’ll never dream of doing it again, but here I am looking at the Ironman calendar for 2007. I may never do one again, but I know it's a possibility, and there’s plenty of potential for improvement.
Thanks for reading. Feel free to shoot me an email: joel.toms@gmail.com.
There’s a short version and a long version (which is truly long, sorry). Thanks to all for your support and encouragement over the past year. This was an amazing experience…
Short Version
Swim 1:11 (2.4 miles)
Bike 6:03 (112 miles)
Run 5:36 (26.2 miles)
Total 13:11
Of all age-groupers: 792nd of 1877 (top 42%)
Of age-group (M25-29): 69th of 148 (top 47%)
Long Version (you can click on pictures to expand)
I slept around six hours Saturday night, despite the nerves. I would get anxious every time I thought about the following day. I had never attempted a marathon, and I was about to run one after seven-plus hours of swimming/biking. It was overwhelming to think about, but I tried to trust my training and not worry about it.
I felt I could break 12 hours if everything went perfectly, and 13 hours would be a solid effort. I was hoping for 1:15 on the swim, 6:00 on the bike and anywhere from 4:20+ on the marathon. But my ultimate goal was to finish, and given the forecast of 88 degrees, I decided to err on the side of eating/drinking too much and take a break in the shade if things got ugly. Just finish!
We arrived at Tempe Town Lake Park around 6am for a 7am start. I had dropped my bike and gear off the day before so the morning was pretty relaxed. As soon as I arrived I was body marked and headed into the transition area to make sure my bike was ready to go and put on my wetsuit. After getting some help with my wetsuit, I headed toward the swim entrance, along with almost 1900 others. The pros went off at 6:45am and then we were ordered into the water.
Swim
I jumped in and slowly swam the 150 yards to the swim start. The scene was amazing. We were spread out beneath 2 bridges, and there were hundreds (maybe thousands) of spectators lined up along the sides of the bridges and the shore, and some had climbed up under the bridges and others were hanging off light posts. I spent a few minutes trying to spot my support group, but there were just too many people, so I laid on my back and took it all in (luckily the water was fairly comfortable). I was surprisingly calm, even emotional. An entire year of preparation and training was about to be put to the test. I was ready.
The mayor of Tempe spoke, and someone sang the national anthem. At the end of the anthem a commercial jet flew right over us and I made a joke about a fly-by to a big laugh (less funny, more nerves). We were then given the two-minute warning, and I started to worry because my goggles were already fogging up. I ran my fingers over the inside of the glass and hoped for the best.
The cannon went off and the madness began. It was as crazy as anticipated. The sun was rising above the water straight down the course, so I couldn’t see anything in front of me. I had people climbing up my back and kicking me in front. I tried to protect my face with my arm on each stroke and focused on the sides of the canal for direction. After a few minutes things thinned out a bit (mostly because I was a little off course), and I got in a grove. I noticed the buildings moving by quickly and I was feeling great. My heart rate felt fairly low, my breathing was relaxed, and I wasn’t tired at all.
The course was about 1.1 miles out, then 200 yards left, then 1.2 miles back. I got to the first turn in what felt like good time (I had no watch), and I stopped to clear my goggles again. Com
ing back down the canal we could finally see because the sun was behind us. I decided to get back in the mix of swimmers to take advantage of the current being created along the buoys. I was risking a kick to the face but I felt the energy saved by a draft was worth the risk. The second half flew by, and I was pumped. I ran up the steps (swim time of 1:11 for 648th place) and lay down on my back as two women (called strippers) yanked off my wetsuit. I was yelling and cheering and had a huge smile. I ran down the chute to transition looking for familiar faces, and I finally ran past my parents and Elisabeth, yelling “piece of cake!”...We were handed our bike gear bag and I ran into the change tent. There were volunteers everywhere, putting on sunscreen and helping with clothing. I took my time (as you can see from my 10 minute transition time – I wanted to make sure I didn’t forget anything). I ran out of the change tent, grabbed my bike and hit the road.
Bike
We rode out of town through crowd-lined streets. I was amazed at the number of spectators. My plan was to keep my heart rate fairly low for the first 20 minutes or so, but my heart rate monitor wasn’t working, so I just followed the crowd of bikers out of town and tried to take it easy. At mile 6 I pulled over to
get my heart rate monitor working, while it felt like hundreds rode past me.The bike course was 3 loops of a 37-mile out-and-back. On the first out, we were into the wind and slightly uphill at the end so I only averaged about 18mph. The morning was very pleasant, but I tried to drink a lot for the hotter hours to come. I had a Clif bar at the beginning of the first loop and I took a water (20oz) and Gatorade Endurance (24oz) at most aid stations (about every 10 miles, or 30 mins). I was shooting for around 32oz of fluid an hour, so I wouldn’t finish the bottles but would take new (colder) ones because I’ve read cold fluids are absorbed faster than warm. I also ate Gu gels every hour or so.
The back part of the first loop was awesome. It was downhill and with the wind for the first few miles so I held speeds of around 30mph with little effort. I finished the rest of the first loop at 22mph, to bring my average to 19.8mph, ahead of pace.
The second loop was not quite as windy, so my out was a little faster. I passed some of my family on the way out and it gave me a boost for a few miles. However, my idea of drinking a lot began to catch up with me, and I had to pull over and pee two times on that two hour loop (I saw people going on themselves while riding but decided that wasn't for me). There were volunteers there to hold my bike while I ran into the port-a-john, and others ran over with bananas and sunscreen when I came out. I had a Cliff bar on the second out and picked up a peanut butter bagel at the midway point of the bike, of which I ate half. My average time was down to about 19.4mph after the second loop.
I still felt good on the third loop, but I again had to stop three times. I passed my mom and Elisabeth on my way out and that gave me another boost (they did a great job of finding me the e
ntire race). The wind had shifted and it was getting much hotter (it was around 2pm by this point), so the final back was much slower than the first. My total bike stoppage time was nearly eight minutes, bringing my average speed down from 19mph to 18.5mph. But I made my goal of six hours (6:03), so I was exactly where I wanted to be (except now I had to run a marathon).The transition was fairly long again. I wasn’t worried about a minute or two when I’m thinking hours, so I took my time. I got more sunscreen and there was even a guy with rubber gloves and vasoline. I realized that I was 4.5 hours away from breaking 12 hours, but it was 2:30pm and the next few hours would be the hottest of the day.
Run
As soon as I began the run I realized it was going to be a long day. It was so hot – close to 90. I knew it was going to be a problem because I had spent most of the winter training in weather no warmer than the 50’s. The run course was 3 loops of slightly less than 9 miles. It was in a figure-eight shape so you came back into town twice on each loop.
I’d done a lot of bike/run workouts and I knew it would take a few minutes before I began to get my running legs. However, even after a few miles I didn’t seem to be getting any more comfortable. I had to stop again a few times and had to throw my goal of not walking out the window almost immediately. I was feeling miserable. The crowds were awesome and there were aid stations every mile or so with water, Gatorade, pretzels, gels, powerbars, oranges, and ice cold sponges. The sponges were a huge hit. Everyone stuffed them in their hats or shirts to help cool off. I took advantage of these at every opportunity but it didn’t seem to help.
The first loop was a disaster – around 2 hours. In training it would take me 1:15 to 1:30 to run this distance, even at the end of a long workout. I ran into Elisabeth and family at the end of the first loop and stopped to talk to them. I was beginning to feel better at this point and seeing them helped boost my energy and confidence.
I began to really run again and my next lap was a much more respectable 1:39. It was fast enough to surprise my family on the bridge. By the end of this lap I was beginning to feel nau
seous. I was drinking like crazy and eating gels often, worried about being worn down by the heat. I think I drank/ate too much. For one, I was peeing often, which I shouldn’t have been doing. And about a quarter-mile into my last lap I ended up on all fours emptying my stomach. This was right in the middle of the course, with people all around. I was expecting to feel better after but I didn’t. I stopped at the next aid station and got some water and salt pills, and a few miles later I did it again. This time, a race official was driving by and he stopped to check on me. I was terrified of getting pulled from the race, so I played it off and he allowed me to continue.This was at about mile 20, and from then on I didn’t eat anything but ice. My goal was now to do everything possible to finish. My body and mind were telling me to lay down and take a break, but I knew if I did that I would never finish. It took everything I had to keep going. My stomach/abs were killing me, probably from throwing up so many times. My 13-hour goal was within reach, so I would try to run/jog every few minutes. But I could only go for a quarter mile or so before I had to start walking again. When my stomach would let me run I was fast, but it wouldn’t last long. Unfortunate since my legs were never tired nor cramped.
I saw my family one last time at mile 23, but I didn’t get much of a boost this time. It was around 7:30pm and the sun had set. I was in so much pain. I walked with a 50-something year old guy who was on his second loop. This was his 10th Ironman. As we walked I could see the finish area and hear the crowds across the river, and I was so focused on getting there. I felt bad for this guy and others who would have to pass the finish line for another 9-mile loop.
As I came across the Mill Ave. bridge one last time, my family was waiting for me. I didn’t look so good, and you could tell they were worried (especially Mom). I walked with them for a few hundred yards as I
approached the finish area. I could hear the music and the crowds. I came to the fork in the course where finishers head left and others right. There were still a lot of people heading out on their last lap, and the officials were putting glow-necklaces around their necks. I headed left towards the finish. I was just over my 13-hour goal but I could not have cared less. I was going to make it.I rounded the corner and saw the finish line. There were no competitors in front of me – it was just me and the crowd. There were bleachers on each side with hundreds of people. The announcer was introducing me, and the crowd was screaming. There were lights pointed down on me, like the ones construction crews use on the highway at night. I could feel a rush coming over me. I got emotional. An entire year of planning, training, worrying, eating right, avoiding injury, and preparing all came down to these
30 seconds. The announcer was asking the crowd to encourage me to run, but I didn’t want to. Why rush it? What’s a few seconds on 13 hours? I just looked around with the biggest smile. The announcer yelled the famous words: “Joel Toms, you are an Ironman!!” I tried to moonwalk for a few feet but I was such a mess it just looked like I was walking backwards. Then I turned and ran the last few yards. I saw my dad at the last second and slapped his hand right before I crossed the tape.I hope I never forget that moment. Those few seconds of satisfaction made hundreds of hours of training all worth it. During the last few hours of the run I was thinking how stupid this was and I’ll never dream of doing it again, but here I am looking at the Ironman calendar for 2007. I may never do one again, but I know it's a possibility, and there’s plenty of potential for improvement.
Thanks for reading. Feel free to shoot me an email: joel.toms@gmail.com.
posted by Joel Toms at 2:00 PM
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