Category Archives: Biking

My 1997 Kona Race Report

By tjfry | September 13, 2011

With less than 30 days until I head back to Kona for the Ironman World Championships, it’s safe to say that I have this great event on my mind. So I thought I would put up my race report from my first trip there in 1997 when I was a pro. Now, “race reports” didn’t really exist back then, but I kept a pretty detailed training log so I’m just going to convert my shorthand of details into a readable form. Race reports can be hit or miss, so proceed at your own risk….

I should probably back up a few weeks and provide a little lead up to race day first. This was a year that I was able to hit a lot of big races and truly get to race like a pro. Big races, big destinations and huge training days. Great fun. About 5 weeks before Ironman, I had a race in Nansei, Japan. Went out there with a few other Americans (Garrett McCarthy and Becky (Gibbs) Lavelle to name a couple), along with some others from around the world. They put us up in pairs and my roomate was New Zealander Cameron Brown. Lots of great stories came from that week, but that’s another day. I had a rough day on a rough course and finished 7th overall. I was in the middle of my Ironman build and was trying to get my iron levels back to normal after a summer at altitude, so I wasn’t happy, but satisfied considering.

Back in Texas, training was pretty intense for me. I was basically doing a 1/2 Ironman every day of the week, and then hit a long run and ride on the weekend on top of that.  350 miles a week riding and 60 running was getting logged, along with swimming under Eddie Reese and the University of Texas men’s team a few days a week (nothing humbles you quicker than swimming repeat 500′s, holding 5min or under and worrying about getting lapped). I didn’t fully know what to expect with Kona, but knew that if I had any hope of playing along, I needed to hit some big volume. It was about as much as my 23 year old body could handle, and as it turned out, maybe a little too much. On too Kona…

Got up at 4:40am. Had 2 Ensure type drinks, a banana and a powerbar for breakfast. Emmanuel Millet, of one of my sponsors,  Aquaman Wetsuits, picked me up and took me to the start. Waited my turn to get marked and pump up the tires, then waited again to hit the port-a-potty. Ran out of time to get a run warmup, so I ran in place for a few minutes to get the blood pumping. Then it was time. So I got in and warmed up in the water.

Then the strangest thing happened. Everyone is trained in this sport to the air horn. Typical start for any race around. Ironman uses a cannon, but for some reason decided to use the air horn as the 5 minute warning. I think you know where this is going. For the first and only time in Ironman history, there was a false start. The horn went off and I nailed that start, broke free of all the pros and began gapping immediately. 150 yards later a wall of lifeguards stopped us. Bummer. So they backed up 1500 athletes and got them positioned again. The cannon sounds and I jump to the lead again, but this time some of the steam was gone and got a group right on my feet. I lead out to the turn with Wolfgang Ditrich right on my heels. On the way back I figured someone else should take a turn and Wolfgang moved up. As we approached the finish I could sense the excitement in our group of 4 and felt the pace quicken bit by bit. I knew that first out usually got big camera time and I wasn’t really interested. I wanted an even race. So I let them sprint to the dock and came out 4th in 49:39

Ran through transition and passed 2 in the tent. Only Wolfgang was in front of my now.  Rolled up Palani Hill, the enormous crowds and out on the Queen K (Slightly different course back then). Settled into my pace in 2nd place on the road. Sitting out there I had the company of 2 helicopters, and various press vehicles zooming by. Around 50 minutes into the ride, the first pack of contenders rolled by that contained Tim and Tony Deboom. Shortly after came all the big names. Jurgen Zack, Lothar Leder, (eventual winner) Thomas Hellriegel, Peter Reid, Christian Bustos, Cameron Widoff, Ken Glah and a couple of others. (note: looking back, this was one of those moments in your life that you look back on and smile.) I rode with the clan for a while and remembering thinking how the pace was not that bad. Out of my range for 112 at the time, but definitely attainable. Then the day started to turn it’s twisted turn for me. I began getting cramps in my left hamstring. Not that intense, but something that I needed to pay attention to. So I eased off a bit and kept stretching it out. Playing this stretch then pedal game spit me off the back of the group and there was now only 1 other rider with me. Lothar Leder. We rode in proximity of each other up the climb and headwind out to Hawi. At the turn in Hawi I somehow missed my special needs bag, which meant I had to improvise the rest of the ride and live off the aid stations. It pissed me off at the time, but it was a great lesson to learn.

We had a nice tailwind coming down from Hawi, but when we got back to the Queen K, it became a stiff headwind of 30 mph all the way home. This is where my next problems showed up. The bottom of my right foot began cramping pretty intensely and there was noway for me to stretch it (no, getting off my bike and taking off my shoe was not an option). Additionally, the course drink by MetRx was not sitting well with me. Felt completely bloated, so I switched to Coke. As the ride wore on, the foot was getting worse. The cramp had now spread and climbed midway up my calf. The pain was getting beyond intense and the horrible wind didn’t help. I clocked 12mph on a downhill in one of the nastier stretches. Just outside Kona I was about at my breaking point and actually began to cry briefly. Thankfully I arrived in town shortly after and was protected from the wind. T2 was about 8 miles south of the swim back then, so I still had a ways to go, but was happy to see faces. A good friend and fellow pro at the time, Tim Watson rolled up next to me about this point. We exchanged a few words and rode to T2 together.

I got off my bike and had trouble putting weight on my foot. One of the volunteers rubbed my foot while I changed and headed out with Tim (No idea of transition times as back then they were both added to your bike time). Steep climb out of T2 and then in and out of the “pit”. As I ran I felt better but never great. Pace dropped into the 7:20′s and then slowly crept upwards. 1:41 at the half, and began catching some of those who dropped me on the bike. Shortly after 13, I started running into problems again and the pace jumped about 1 min per mile. Held onto this pace until around mile 20 when the bottom just fell out. Pace jumped to well over 12 minute miles. Started stopping at every aid station and legs began stiffening. Started asking for potato chips at aid stations and people were digging through their personal belongings to get me some. Then I began peeing every other mile or so. Final miles were in a blurr. Very little memory of the run back into town to the finish. I crossed the line and walked over to my parents. We went over to the food and I began to try to eat. While talking to them I began to lose my vision. Everything was going blurry and I went from feeling bad to feeling like death. Some doctors came over and carried me into the med tent. Began to feel very cold and temperature began to drop. I overheard the doctors say that I was going into shock and then heard one yell at me to stop letting my eyes roll back in my head. Then every movement caused cramping. Even my jaw cramped. 3 I.V.’s and a shot of magnesium (for the cramping) and I came out of it. Bottom line: my sodium levels dropped too low and hyponatremia kicked in. I crept to the car and headed to the hotel, with my tail firmly between my legs.

It was one of the worst experiences and best experiences I’ve ever been through. I decided that night that I would never attempt another Ironman again. It just wasn’t my bag. Olympic and 1/2 Ironman were more my thing.

Then I got on the plane to head home and noticed that if I had just changed my nutrition like this and adjusted my training like that, then maybe I could…..

And that my friends, is how addictions begin.

 

Also posted in Running, Swimming, The Bucket List | Leave a comment

The Problem with Power

By tjfry | July 14, 2011

Power is hot. It’s the new it. And I’m the first to agree that it’s a great tool. One of the best. For those scratching their heads, I’m referring to bike training with power (or a power meter). It’s a great tool, as it measures the energy output that you’re putting out during your ride. I will be the first to tell you that using a powermeter in conjunction with a heart rate monitor is probably the most ideal training setup on the market today when you’re on your bike. But with all it’s pluses, it still has it’s issues.

Power is an output. Just like speed or pace, it’s a result of the effort, or stress, that you put your body through. And similar to all outputs, it’s absolute. In fact that’s one of the talking points that the uber powermeter crowd touts. A watt is a watt. I would agree. Most outputs are. A pace is a pace, a mph is a mph. BUT, and this is a big but, your body’s ability to produce that watt is variable. And therin lies rub #1.

A lot of the discussion out there is that a power meter is more accurate than a heart rate monitor, so just training via power  alone is a better way to go. I gotta say, that statement doesn’t really make a lot of sense to me. That’s like saying the fuel gage in your car is more accurate than the temperature gage. They measure 2 entirely different things. Powermeters measure the power that your body has generated. Heartrate measures the stress your body is under while you produce that power. So if you leave the heart rate monitor at home for your next ride or race and simply go by the goal wattage that you have calculated for the event, you may be setting yourself up for a tough day. This is because 250 watts in hour 1 in comfortable weather is much different that 250 watts in hour 5 in the heat. It’s these slow changes over time that make it so critical to have an eye on your body while you have the other on the power.

Another problem you run into is the need for constant testing if you want to do it right. Since a watt has no connection with effort of the body, your improvement will be tougher to recognize without constant testing. For instance, lets take our fictional athete Joe. He does a threshold test for power and comes up with a wattage of 100. So he builds a training plan around that wattage and follows it to the T.  After a couple weeks of training though, his body has adapted and improved. So now his effort level has dropped well below what it was intended to maintain the test goal power. Because of lower effort levels his improvement stagnates some. The next test shows that his power has increased to 150.  So somewhere along the way he should have increased the ride wattage to keep up with his improvement. Without testing though, it’d only be a guess. 

Now take Larry who trains wattage and heart rate, but does his threshold tests based on heart rate. So Larry finds that at his threshold heart rate of of 150 he is crankin out 100 watts as well. Larry follows his plan just as religiously, except Larry’s wattage increases througout the training cycle as he maintains the goal heart rates. The next time Larry tests he finds that his his threshold heart rate has increased to 152, but his wattage at that effort level is now 165. Larry’s rate of improvement is faster because he’s monitoring both the stress of the work and the output of that stress.

The other big problem with training exclusively with watts has less to do with the technology and more with the approach. If you look through the training practices, you’ll see that there are goal and average wattages that tested for. So Joe buys a powermeter, tests for his functional threshold power (ftp) and finds an average or goal power for any given distance. So far so good, but the next part is the problem. Once given the average power, Joe tries to stay at that average regardless of terrain. So he ends up riding  easier than normal up the hill and then harder than normal on the descent.  On the surface, not a big deal, but add in aerodynamics and wind resistance and the worm starts to turn. The air resistance on the climb is much different than the descent not to mention the gravitational resistance.  So while power is much more important on the climb, Joe eases up, and when aerodynamics are much more important on the descent, Joe pushes harder. Need an example? Where is the Tour de France won and lost? The mountains. An not just the mountains, but the climbs. If you have 2 riders exactly the same size, and both average 250 watts for a ride, they should have the same time, right? Wrong.

Take rider A, who does just as I mentioned earlier. His goal for average watts is 250, so he keeps that wattage across the entire ride. Up hill, downhill, flats, whatever. His effort is balanced and his ride seems strong. Well done.

Now take rider B, who rides the exact same course and averages the exact same wattage, but takes into account all aspects of the ride. On the climbs when he can get the most power bang for his buck, he pushes 350 watts instead of 250. While this is a bit more tiring, he also makes huge ground on rider A. With little air resistance climbing, all that added power translates directly into speed. Then, rider B only puts up 150 watts on the descent, and at times, even coasts. Why? because the air resistence is exponentially stiffer as speed increases, so with a focus on aerodynamics and rest, rider B only loses a small amount of time to rider A and is able to fully recover.

"The Look"

Now the real world example (although admittedly a bit extreme). Watch a mountain stage of the Tour de France. All the moves are made on the uphill because the power output most directly influences the pace. Once you’re dropped, it’s pretty much over. Sure, riders can make up some time on the downhill, but it’s incredibly small by comparision, even if the wattage is considerably greater than your compeition. You could even call it return on investment.  So while you kill it on the downhill and get a small return, your competition is banking that effort for the uphill, where they will get a huge return by comparison.

So if you get more bang for your buck generating more power on the uphill, how can you tell when more power is too much power for you to handle? That great big red thing between your boobies. Strap on a heart rate monitor my friend, and find out how much stress your putting on yourself.

Power on Wayne. Power on Garth.

Also posted in Training | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

How Safe is Cycling?

By tjfry | July 10, 2011

Recently, with the help of some friends, I was able to find a route that I could use to ride my bike to work. Obviously, safety was my main concern. It’s something that cyclists and their families think about a great deal. I know that in our house, my wife always worries as I leave the house in the mornings for my rides. Honestly though, at times I worry a bit myself. I don’t want a recreational activity to end up as a life altering, or ending, event. So I thought I would do a little digging to see how safe our sport is. What I found was quite comforting.

In 2009, there were 630 cycling fatalities nationwide. Initially the number seems a bit large, but that breaks down to about 13 fatalities per state. Of course fate doesn’t yeild it’s sword evenly, so I would assume states like Texas and California are going to have a much greater percentage of those deaths than North Dakota or Wyoming. Still, given all the cycling in this country, 630 didn’t seem alarming. But here’s where it got interesting for me.

Bicycle fatality statistics are not reported for just those who ride competitively or as a form of exercise. It records all deaths on a bike. Of that 630 deaths, 28% of those people were drunk. Even more surpising to me was that 91% of fatalities happened when the rider wasn’t wearing a helmet. That means 53 people died last year on a bike while wearing a helmet, or roughly 1 per state per year. There were some other interesting statistics such as percentage that were riding against the flow of traffic and those within 25 feet of an intersection.

I watch enough politics to know that numbers can be resuffled to fit your agenda. (Ever heard the old saying, ” Theres 3 types of lies. Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics”) Perfect example was an article that I read in looking up this stuff that stated that cycling was one of the most dangerous sports around. Why? The writer took similar statistics that I’ve used and calculated deaths per mile ridden. Since most people (including those who choose to ride drunk at 3 am) ride a very short distance, it skewed the numbers to fit his purpose. Maybe I’m doing the same thing. I don’t know.

Anyway, this is what I learned from my little exercise. If you ride with a helmet, with traffic, sober, during normal people hours (7% were killed between 3am and 6am) and obey the traffic laws (i.e. stopping running red lights). Then you have considerably lowered your chances of getting hit.

Now I’m quite aware that sometimes bad stuff just happens. I’ve seen friends get hit and been hit myself. There will always be jackasses who are allowed to get behind the wheel of a car, not to mention the true accidents that happen. But taking a few precautions will keep your risks quite low.

Oh, and I tried out the route and rode to work the other day. It went much better than expected, and was a great way to add 50 miles to my training.

Keep the rubber side down.

Also posted in Training | Tagged | Leave a comment

Ironman Texas

By tjfry | June 10, 2011

Below is the long, way too detailed version of Ironman Texas 2011. I write these more for myself than for others, as I try to note events/stats that will help me remember and correct for the next race. But some people enjoy reading. Let the record show that you were warned.

Got up about 4am after poor night’s sleep. Since I live less than 2 miles from transition, prerace was a snap. 3 hard boiled eggs and a small cup of coffee. Previously I have tried to stuff more food down my throat, but it seems to just make me uncomfortable. Mixed up all my race drinks (perpetum and pure sport) and headed over to transition. Being a local was a big help because we knew the good places to park that no one knew about. did my thing with the bags bottles and tires and started walking to the start with Amy.

Event warmup:

Because of the narrow boat ramp and the fact that they had to separate the wetsuits users from the non wetsuit users, they started letting people in the water around 6:40ish. I was sure to be right up front so I could get in and warm up some. Was able to swim easy for about 10-15 minutes before I had to go fight for positioning.

Swim

Since the water wasn’t wetsuit legal for any form of consideration other than being a finisher, there was a mix of wetsuit and non wetsuit swimmers. At first I didn’t really care because I didn’t think I would really be affected, but as the start got closer I noticed a number of wetsuits pushing their way to the front of the start. A quick glance at the equipment they were using told me they were about to get maimed when the gun when off. (Sounds a bit presumptuous I know, but just like seeing a cyclist in tennis shoes, it’s often easy to pick strong/weak swimmers out of a crowd based on their equipment choices). If they weren’t wearing the rubber courage, I guarantee they wouldn’t be in front elbowing me for space. Translate this through the entire field and I would say that this was probably a more congested/violent swim than it needed to be. I’m a big fan of the mass start, but if they’re going to allow 2 sets of rules, perhaps a two wave start would be safer.
Anyway, the gun went off and I hit the gas for a good 20 seconds. I Looked both ways and saw I was leading so I immediately throttled back and worked to settle into my pace. Because of a little mishap working on my bike, breathing to the left was a bit of a challenge because of some lingering soreness/swelling. For this reason, I did very little breathing to the left, and I paid for it. What I didn’t notice was that the two people I was looking for were about 20 yards to my left and slowly passing me. When I finally noticed I tried to move over and catch some feet, but it was too late. Stupid tactical error. I ended up swimming about 25-35 yards behind them alone for about the first 1.8 miles, give or take. At that point I started feeling a little tired, which is something I never feel in the swim. I knew then that my fitness wasn’t nearly where it should have been. Work leading up the race was extremely busy, and swimming is the first workout I cut when I’m pinched for time. So now I had to pay for it. The 2 in front of me started really gapping and I just focused on staying smooth through the canal. The swim course by the way was really great. The last half mile swimming through the canal, there are people on both sides cheering you on. Very cool. Time: 52:24

What would I do differently?Train more, plain and simple. And don’t getted jacked in the jaw with your bike the week before the race.

T1

My MO in transition is to keep it simple. More stuff to do/think about means more things to screw up. So I got out, ran to my bag and then to the tent. Off came the Torque and on went the helmet and shoes. Passed one of the swimmers that finished in front of me and a pro male in transition. Time: 2:10

Bike:

Hopped on the bike and passed a male pro in the first mile. Once he got adjusted though he took off and out of sight like I was just learning to ride a bike. Because of my limited time to train the bike and therefore relative weakness in this event, I expect to see stronger cyclists begin to pass me by about mile 5. I was riding a bit quicker than usual this time I guess. Not sure if it was more fitness, better set up or what, but mile 5 came and went and there was no one behind me. Couldn’t see anyone. Then came mile 10, then 15, then 20. Still no one. What the? The fastest swimmer was off the front, so I’m sitting second overall and rolling through mile 25. Then 30. Then 35. At this point there were 2 athletes rolling up on me. Ok, here comes the train of cyclists. As they passed I realized that it was a pro male with a pro female drafting him (blatant I might add). So I was still in 2nd. It wasn’t until right before mile 40 that the first amatuer passed me. I was surprised it took so long, but I was riding right at a 5 hr pace so I guess in hindsight it makes sense that it would take a little longer for everyone to catch up. A few miles later the second guy came by, and as he did he asked, “Do you want to take turns taking 2 minute pulls?” I looked at him like he just offered to lick my toes. He then quickly added “legal pulls”. Whatever dude. I might have a slow bike time, but it’s legit. Slowly the cyclists then began coming, most all clean, but a few wheel suckers. Somewhere around mile 50 we came into an area that had just received a heavy rain, and the roads were soaked. I train this stretch every weekend and knew that the tar/oil with the water was going to make this section extremely slick, so I slowed way down. (I later saw a few riders with some healthy road rash and torn clothes, so my assumptions seemed to be confirmed.) I crossed the halfway point around 2:34ish and in 7th overall. I kept a keen eye on my heart rate the entire way and made sure the I kept the legs well in reserve. Even on the few hills I kept the effort so that I had 2 gears left in me. In terms of nutrition, I was drinking 1 bottle every hour, a saltstick tablet about every 30-45 minutes, and drinking the perpetum bottle as needed. 6 months ago in Ironman Cozumel I drank 1 bottle every 30 minutes and ended the ride feeling bloated and struggled with stomach issues on the run a bit because of it. This seemed at first to work much better, especially because the first few hours of the bike were under an overcast sky. The clouds actually made me rethink the hydration a little as at times it felt downright comfortable outside. That turned out to be a bit of a mistake as I would find out later.
Coming back to The Woodlands there was a bit of a headwind, but nothing to complain about. I went through a few rough patches where the back/neck would get tight, but otherwise a pretty consistent ride. Felt pretty good once I got back in the Woodlands, and the crowds on every corner certainly helped. Hear rate consistant throughout, with about a 5 beat rise in the last 10 miles or so. That was a tell…

Time: 5:15

What would I do differently? Drink a more balanced mix of water and Perform. I drank about 90% Perform, and what I thought was a bloating feeling was actually a mild case of sour stomach. Next time I will probably alternate bottles so I can help fix the hydration challenge.

T2

Rolled in, handed off the bike and ran to the tent. When I sat down I thought to myself, “take your time and get everything right for this brutal run”. Was a little surprised that it was still a 3 minute transition. I thought I sat there for a while. oh well. Time: 3:00

Run

The heat and humidity hit me like a wall. This was my 5th Ironman, and each one I have done has been in temperatures above 90 degrees. Having said that, this run felt the hottest. I knew immediately I was in trouble. I kept slowing down and the heart rate kept climbing (even though RPE felt the same). About a half mile in, my breathing started feeling shallow, like an asthma attack was coming. It was at this point that my mind started debating whether I could finish. I immediately kissed Kona goodbye. This was my hometown race and I wasn’t about to drop out in my backyard. As I ran up to the mile 1 aid station, I kept telling myself, “this is the unplanned problem for this race, just figure it out”. Got to mile 1 in 7:40 and hit the port-a-can. Immediatley figured out problem #1. I’m dehydrated. So I stopped at the aid station and started taking in A LOT of fluids. Jogged very easy to the next aid station and repeated the hydration. Struggled this way through the 4th aid station. Then slowly I was able to run at a steady pace again. Things started turning, even if slowly. Ran through a couple of aid stations and then started fighting the overheating. So I dedcided that since a Kona slot was out, I would walk through the aid stations and get as much ice on me as I could find a spot for. Chest, back, groin, and held a handful in each hand. This run was frickin hot! I have never seen so many pro’s walking. I actually passed a few on the run (ok, ok, they were a lap ahead of me but I still passed them technically!) Somewhere around mile 13 I got an update from a friend. He told me that the last update showed that I was 9th in my AG. So I thought back to where the last checkpoint would have been that was already on the internet and it was a good chunk back (maybe mile 8 or 9?), but I did start noticing that I wasn’t really getting passed much out here. I really couldn’t believe it. I was having a horrible run and running at what felt like a snails pace. So I guess everyone was suffering too, and I’m still in this race. Of course heat management was priority, but now there was a little more urgency in my step. Started the 3rd lap and life started getting confusing. I had to try and figure out if the person that was passing me was on their first, second or final lap. (On a side note, the crowds on the run were fantastic, especially on the waterway. Huge props to the director for designing the run course.). When I got to the turnaround (at Landry’s) I forced myself to up the pace as I noticed I was closing in on a competitor in my AG. Made the turn into Market street and soaked it up best I could. Great finish area set up by the way! Time: 4:01

What would I do differently? Start the run well hydrated.

My warm down amounted to zero. Almost passed out about 10 minutes after the race while talking to friends and family, so I spent a few minutes with the docs, drank some chicken broth and then headed for home. On the way out I heard from a couple of people that I finished 11th. The prerace predictions were that 11 slots would go to my age group (the largest age group starting). So it was just a matter of waiting until morning to see if it would be official. Went home, had friends come over, drank beer and ate pizza. The next morning I got my confirmation that it was indeed 11 slots and got my golden ticket to Kona! This will be my 3rd trip there, and I haven’t had the best history in Kona (more on that another time) , so my goal is to actually experience the legendary Kona finish, even though I finished both times.

Of course if I trained for the swim a bit more I might be able to…well….we’ll have to wait and see ;)

**Photo’s taken off of Facebook via firends who took the pictures. I would like to thank them and If any of the pictures need to be removed, just let me know.***
Also posted in Running, Swimming | 2 Comments