Ironman Cozumel: “Go get your dream.”

Dear Readers – this piece is a guest post from my husband, John Jenkins, who recently earned a slot to the 2012 Ironman World Championships following his excellent showing at Ironman Cozumel, held on November 27, 2011.

“Go get your dream,” my mother said just minutes before Maria and I stepped into the waters of Mirror Lake in Lake Placid to begin our first Ironman back in 2010.

It was probably the most nervous, scared shitless, and unsure moment I have ever had and I think it was the same for Maria. Please people: embrace the starting moments of your first Ironman. It is truly one of the coolest times ever. Today, those words of advice still bounce around in my head, and I pull from that when I need to. Ironman Cozumel was one of those times.

0700: The swim start

Like just about every ironman swim start, you have way too many people in too small of an area trying to get in the best position before the gun goes off. Even so, compared to Lake Placid, Cozumel has a much more open area for the in-water start. Most people chose to go to the end of the dock, along the buoy line.

Athletes had to jump from the dock into the warm blue waters below.

I jumped off the dock and swam out to the line, and found that the current was coming in our faces for the start. So, I swam back towards the shore line and stayed in water that was just deep enough to swim. The current was much weaker there, and I wanted that as I planned on swimming between :59 – 1:05.

Bang!

The gun went off and it was time to went. I surged with a hard effort for the first 400 and settled into my Ironman pace – just like I trained for, just like I visualized. At the first turn buoy, I knew the plan to swim along the beach was a good one, as there were not that many people who were far ahead of me. The water was calm and visibility was near 100%.

After the turn we would have the current at our backs for the longest stretch of the swim. I got on a woman’s feet for most of this leg, and went for the ride.

I had some trouble near the turn back towards the starting/finish line as the buoy was off course a little bit, and a large submarine was in the way. I had to give a quick course correction and was back in the game.

I hit the dock and heard the announcer say: “These athletes have 1 minute to swim under the 1 hour mark!”

I ran hard to the timing mat, and clocked my swim at 59:11–my best IM swim time to date.

Sweet. My day was looking good so far.

Time to ride

Exiting transitiion area at Chankanab Park.

With a 3 minute, 30 second T1, I was on my bike and ready to ride. I was very mindful of other bikers to avoid a collision. Once on the road, I hit the gas and settled into my target heart rate zone. It took about 45 minutes, as my heart rate was elevated from the swim. In the three Ironman races I’ve done so far, I’ve found that it takes a little while for my heart rate to come down after the swim and T1. Staying as relaxed as possible helps with this.

Alright, I remembered the advice of my coach Tara Rasch: Let’s eat this elephant one bite at a time. Stay in the 5 minute box and be present.

For the first loop, I rode steady but not too hard. I watched as lots of people blew by me, doing about 24 miles per hour. I was not worried about them. I thought, They will pay later for this mistake.

The first 12-15 miles offered a head wind that wasn’t terrible, but still unpleasant and unwelcome. After we turned to ride parallel to the ocean, it became a cross-head wind. I was able to hold a good speed staying within my heart rate zones and hammered along the shore line.

It was stinking hot, but I had trained for this – spending hours on the CompuTrainer, in layers of clothing, taking in fluid and acclimating to the sweat fest. As planned, I drank a bottle of gatorade (available on the course) between every aid station. I would also grab a bottle of water and dump it over me to keep my core temp down.

A minimum of two bottles per hour was my fluid plan, but I probably averaged closer to three. I was also careful to consume salt stick and fuel at the 20 minute and 50 minute mark of each hour.

The ride back to town had a tail wind, and my speed increased to about 26 mph. People were everywhere on the streets, cheering, banging drums, and it lifted me as I always try to feed off that free energy.

As I started on the second loop of this three loop course, the wind had picked up, and I watched as others started drafting all around me. I’m not going to beat this one to death. But, people who draft suck and that’s why they need to cheat. Enough of that.

I kept in my target HR zone, at my ceiling of 148 bpm, for the next two loops. The first and second loop are hard for me mentally, until I get past that 65% complete mark. This is a mental trick I picked up from Bobby McGee during his lecture at the USAT Level 1 coaching clinic we went to in October.

After the second loop, I was feeling strong, and realizing that the 6.5 hour CompuTrainer rides in the pain cave were definitely paying off. People were fading and I was overtaking lots of those guys who just could not hold back on the first loop. I continued with my hydration and fueling plan, and hit the timing mat in 5 hours and 12 minutes, for an average of 21.7 mph–my best IM bike time to date.

Six hours and 15 minutes into this race, I thought, This is good. Now, let’s see if I can RUN.

Running in Hades

I spent 1 minute and 30 seconds in T2 – just enough time to load up on lots of sunblock and grab my hat, sneaks, banana and gel.

I started off on my hottest marathon ever. The temperature was 85-degrees, with 90% humidity. Hot. Hot. Hot.

As soon as I started running, I could see people walking already. I felt good and hit my target heart rate, but never looked at my pace because my HR dictates my pace. I ran into the first aid station and put ice into my hat, and in my shirt around my chest. The trick would be keeping my core temp as low as I could get it on a day when I felt like I was running in the fires of hell.

The run is always like a trance state for me. I enter T2 and I exit at the finish. At first, it seems that this does not feel very welcoming, but after a little while, I accept the pain and embrace the feeling.

More than anything, since we were kids, I love the run. My grade school friends will attest to this. I remember being in Mr. Rodgers gym class running in the woods behind the school during gym class. I always wanted to be out front, except that one dude, Rob Martin, always that that little extra to hold me off (way off). I wonder if he still runs. He was extra special when it came to the run.

After the first loop of this three-loop run course, I was not exactly feeling like a rock star but I felt strong. My quads were hurting a bit. I guess this was from hammering the same gear for 112 miles. Again, I was glad to have suffered through the CompuTrainer sessions because this race experience was a lot like that.

Are you serious – 6.5 hours on the computrainer? WTF!

I had a sense of awareness that I could give in to the pain or just accept the feeling and go with it. I chose the latter.

Toward the end of the second loop, the rain decided to fall. My body welcomed it because it was f*n hot. My HR was at the ceiling of my target range, and after the sky let loose, it dropped 10 beats.

Yes! It is time to GO!

I picked up my pace, and picked off runner after runner.

It was raining so hard that monster puddles formed along the course, and all of a sudden, I found myself running through rivers, and some of them were shit brown. How very appropriate for the plumbing inspector who spent his first day of work at the age of 16 in a shit tank, with chest waders on because the crap was up to my nipples.

I used this thought for motivation and just went with the flow. (Ba-dum-dum….)

At the final turnaround on the 3rd loop, my legs felt the effort, but I still had more juice. I pulled from the thought of lava fields, and continued toward town.

When I reached the ferry dock, I knew I was only a mile from the finish line. I dug deep within my body and mind, deeper into the trance and found myself at the finish, coasting through in 9 hours and 35 minutes–a PR by 33 minutes!

The first person I saw was Maria. I asked, “How did I do?”

She did not look confident. “I don’t know. I’m not sure. It looks like somewhere between 8th or 10th in your age group. I can’t tell–not everyone has their age group on their legs.”

I would not know my exact placement until we returned to our friends’ house.  Once we got to Curt & Michelle’s, I found out I was 10th in my Age Group. This meant I had to hope for a roll down slot to Kona.

“Not likely,” I said.

Kona

Maria has already written about the roll down story–so if you’ve read that, you know I got the slot. You can find it here. It was unbelievable. I went from missing it by one slot – to throwing my money on the counter and punching my ticket for the 2012 Ironman World Championships.

I was crying, Maria was crying, people around us were crying. As far as I can remember, this was the best moment in my athletic history. Ever.

Standing on the shores of Mirror Lake - almost two years ago.

As my mother said before the start of IMLP, “Go get your dream.”

I grabbed it, and felt a true sense of relief for the first time in almost two years. I felt gratitude for the hard work, sacrifice, and long sessions in the pain cave. It all paid off! Thank you, God.

Thanks to all who made this happen

Ironman might seem like an individual sport, but without the support of others, I would have NEVER achieved my dream.

Special thanks to our friends Curt and Michelle, who opened their home to us, and let us stay with them. Without you, this would not have happened. My deepest and most sincere thanks to you for your kindness and hospitality. I love you guys and that special little one, Macy, who made our trip so special.

Thanks to my parents and my wife Maria, who have given me their complete support over the past several years. There is absolutely no way I could have found the strength to do any of this without you. Your support has been given so freely in so many ways, I am so thankful. I love you!

Thanks to my coach, Tara Rasch. You took me from a novice Ironman athlete to a Kona qualifier in under 12 months. That’s pretty unbelievable.

Thanks to Martin Block who was there for me when I needed him to be. And, thanks to Larry Friedman who sold me a great ride (at a great deal). It got me to the T2 fast and fresh!

And thanks to everyone for their support and love on Twitter & Facebook. It is positively incredible and very cool that so many people care and are willing to cheer me on.

We are moving on to KONA!

Bringing the big guns to Kona 😉

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