The Race Report, part IV

Two down, one to go.

The Run
The run course consists of 3 laps, one half marathon lap and followed by two 10.5k laps. The longer lap is exactly the same as the shorter laps except that there is one out and back section (starting and ended at P4 on the map) used to make up the difference. The main part of the run course is flat. The only hills are on the out and back section of the longer lap.


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My general run plan was to run, or “run” if you will, and then walk through the aid stations. This was the same strategy from Canada. Except this time, included in the flashcards were mini intervals I wrote up to keep myself motivated and moving a bit faster than I would if just “ran.” I had also mapped out my run splits in the flashcards, a five-hour run broken up with first lap at 2:45, the second lap at 1:10 and the third lap at 1:05. I had no idea what I was thinking when I came up with these splits the night before. As I was thinking about them when I was running, I told myself I was smoking crack for breaking up the run that way. It should have been more like 2:30, 1:20 and 1:10.

I was holding up pretty strong for the first few miles, considering. My stomach was doing okay and my legs were working. I was going very fast but I was going. I had my flash cards in my back pocket along with my hammer gels and salt tabs. The purpose of the flashcards are to help keep me motivated throughout the run. I had these in Canada and they helped me a lot mentally. At every aid station and major hill I would allow myself to read one flashcard and it became basically became my reward for completing each mile. For Canada we had such a large training group, that I organized a card writing party so that each racer and racers’ friends would write cards for each other. So along the course, I would read a message, funny saying, story or joke from someone different. It was a blast. This year, because the Ironman group is so small, the flashcard authors became Sam, Jessica, Benito and myself. Unfortunately, I didn’t start into my cards at the onset of the run. I wanted to focus on getting my act together and making sure I kept moving.

I was sticking to my plan and walking only through aid stations. I had a hammer gel somewhere in the first few kilometers and of course it just wasn’t tasting right. I decided to forgo my own food and just opt for the food they had on the course and what I had in my special needs bag. It’s interesting what they have out on the course for you. They have the basics, water, Gatorade, fruit, and coke. But they also have other things as well. They had small rolls, crackers, pound cake, and what looked to be like beef jerky sticks a la slim jims (I immediately thought of all the Brazil Hundy Send-off ladies and it made me smile). In addition to that, they had chicken soup, not broth, but actual soup. When Helen warned me about the broth being “chunky” before I left, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I’ve done the coke thing but never the chicken broth thing like they said you should for ironman. The salt in the broth is apparently supposed to be a magic jolt to your system like the caffeine and sugar from the coke. But I didn’t have any in Canada and I wasn’t about to have any here. So Helen was correct, the soup wasn’t clear broth, it was cloudy to say the least. It looked like an ivory colored jook (Chinese rice porridge soup) but with shreds of chicken. It didn’t look appetizing to me at all, maybe because I’m a vegetarian. But all I can say is that, I’m glad they were serving it in clear cups because If I did eat meat and grabbed a cup of “sopa” as they were calling it, I would have had an unpleasant surprise to discover that my broth was more viscous than it should normally be. Over the duration of the first lap I ended up having a piece of banana, a slice of orange, a roll, and a few crackers.

The first part of the course takes you away from Jurere Beach and then out onto a road just outside of the main part of town (basically from just past P1 on the map to P3). Of course everywhere in town was full of spectators and volunteers but once you hit that road, it was just you, the trees, and random, houses and businesses. I kept on my pace, trying to maintain focus and was doing a pretty good job until I hit the long out and back of the first lap (starting at P4 on the map). That’s when the hills started. I remember from the course tour that these hills were tough. You should conserve your energy and walk up them. In addition to that, there was also one particular hill where you should definitely walk down, otherwise you won’t be able to stop yourself from rolling down the hill if you needed to stop. I made my way up the first hill and of course I walked it. It flattened out so I started running again and then I hit another hill and walked and then another. These hills were insane. They weren’t super long but crazy steep. The only accurate description would be to it felt like I was heading up Lynch Hill and Taylor Street on the San Francisco Grand Prix course. Insanity I’m telling you.

But the change of scenery from the wooded back area was nice. We were now headed out towards a town called Canasvieras and it was very residential, not resort-ie like Jurere Beach. It was here where I crested one of the hills and got a wonderful view of the water just before sunset. The sky was orange and amazing. The reflection on the water along with the boats made for an awesome postcard, if only I had my camera. After those hills, the rest of that out and back section was flat. I should have studied the course more closely because I didn’t realize that the out and back was a 10.5k. It seemed never ending.

After finally hitting the turnaround, it was starting to get dark. The sun had already set and I was starting to get a little chilly. On my way back up and over those hills, I ended up running into Colleen again and we stopped and chatted for a quick minute or less. I warned her about the length of the out and back and then we went on our ways. Again, it was so good to be able to see a familiar face and be able to communicate with each other freely. Some racers tried to chat with me along the course but all I could say was, “No Portuguese,” or “No habla Espanol.”

I finally hit the main road heading back towards transition and my feet were starting to hurt. The balls of my feet felt like they were starting to throb and I was barely halfway through the run. The closer I got to transition, the sooner I knew I’d see my trusty cheering squad. They were posted up by the Endurance Sports Travel hospitality house, located just about 500m from transition. Before I knew it, I could hear the cowbells! I gave a high five to my dad and handed off my sunglasses, hammer gels and flashcards to Benito (sorry ladies, I only made it through two cards but they gave me much joy afterwards) while my mom was concerned about whether I was cold and if I needed a jacket (I let her know I had a shirt in my special needs bags). I made it to the turnaround. Fortunately you have to be pretty much in the chute to see the finish line and understand Portuguese to understand the announcers, so I wasn’t affected so much by knowing that I was really close to the finish line. I hit the turnaround point at about 2:30something. Not so bad considering that I walked all of those hills on the out and back. Based on my pace, that would mean two more 1-hour+ laps. I can handle that. Just take it a lap at a time.

I grab my “bracelet” from the volunteers (It’s really an 80’s style stretch terry cloth hairband – the kind you wore two colors of that matched with your double sock action and wore with your oversized sweatshirt and stir-up pants) and continued on. I ran into my cheering squad again as I headed back down that same street. I was looking forward to my Special Needs bag just past P1. I wanted my Pringles, my shirt and my SWEDISH FISH! I grabbed my bag, put on my shirt, slapped my reflective stickers on my shorts and the back of my visor (I’ll be damned if I get a glowstick), shoved the Swedish fish into my back pocket, grabbed my Pringles and chucked my special needs bag towards the volunteers. (There were some kids hanging out at special needs going through abandoned bags. I had a pair of injinji socks I wanted back so I made sure to toss it back close to where the volunteers could pick it up and put it back).

With my Pringles in hand, I decided to take mini-picnic break, a walking tour if you will, and eat my Pringles as I continued to walk the course. I wanted to give my feet a little break from the pounding. I started up running again just before the left turn off into the, now dark, wooded area. It was depressing out there and I was starting to get tired and my feet were screaming at me. I decided to walk for a bit, and that bit turned into walking the entire dark back-side of the course. I started calculating how much time I had left before the midnight deadline and if it would be possible for me to walk the rest of the course. When I took the turn to head back to civilization, I came back to reality and decided to try to power walk. I didn’t really want to be out on the course until midnight. After I started my little power walk shuffle, I checked my heart rate monitor to see what my pace was. I was managing about 12.5 minute miles. DUDE! The light bulb went off in my head. If I can force myself to do some really good power walking intervals, I’ll be back in no time! So it was established. I would do a 4-minute power walking interval followed by a 1-minute walk break. It’s on!

After the first interval, I realized I could easily step up from a power walk to a jog. Now I was moving into 11ish minute miles, sometimes into 10minute miles. I slowly and surely started to pass and catch up to some other racers. Now it’s really on! Before I knew it, I was back at the hospitality house hearing the comforting clang of the cowbells my parents love to ring! One more lap to go! I grabbed another “bracelet” and allowed myself an extended walk break. Now it’s on again. I was now approaching at my intervals in pairs. I calculated that I now had about 6-7 more sets of them before I was officially done.

And away I went. I headed back down the streets away from transition. I felt like zoomed through the dark back-side of the course. And before I knew it, I was a 5K away from finishing the race. I tried to kick the afterburners in a bit and decided that I’d run the entire length of finishers lane leading into the finishing chute forgoing any interval I was in. I was getting closer and feeling happier and peppier. My day will finally be done. I got into the finisher’s lane and in what seemed like forever. maybe only seven minutes, I was in the finishing chute. I saw papaFasu and he was smiling one of the biggest smiles I’d ever seen. I lifted my left hand to give him a high five and before I knew it what happened, he grabbed my hand and started running with me.

“Dad, what are you doing? Are you running with me?”

“Yes!”

Never would I have thought I’d be able to cross the line with my parents. I remember from Canada, you were only allowed to run with your children and you had to have signed up for it in advance. But here I was, running with my dad and then we crossed the finish line.

14:43:03

M time was just under an hour over my Canada finish and almost two hours over my goal. I can go back and calculate the minutes I could have saved doing this that or the other. But does it really matter? I went through hell and I got myself out of it.

My coworkers gave me a card before I left for Brazil. It may have been a bit of foreshadowing, but nothing else could have summed my IM Brazil experience better.

“If you’re going through hell, keep running.”