Ironman Canada 2006
My story. By John Crawford (age group athlete, age 54)
Preamble
On August 27, 2006, I attempted my 3rd Ironman triathlon. On race day, I was 54 years old. This is my story.
In July 2004, I completed the Ironman triathlon for the first time. In August 2005 I completed Ironman Canada (IMC)
for the first time. Prior to the IMC race in 2005, I was telling people that IMC 2005 would be my last Ironman. By the
Tuesday after the race, I had already changed my mind. My friend Greg McFadden (Producer of Subaru Triathlon
TV) said it best; “I knew you would still do more Ironman races, it’s what you do now, and it’s what you’ve become”.
That is exactly true for me. I wanted to continue the lifestyle. I wanted to spend the hours training. There is nothing
else I’d rather do. With my heart disease, I need to continue the lifestyle in order to keep the disease from
progressing, although the Ironman version is excessive (more about that later).
Doing an Ironman requires a serious time commitment. In my case, I spent exactly 462 hours in exercise workouts in
the 52 weeks leading up to the Ironman race in Penticton on August 27, 2006. In addition to the workout hours
spent, the additional time required in rest and recovery is almost as great. In order to do the Ironman, sacrifices
have to be made in your life. It becomes the most dominant aspect of your life. The debate amongst Ironman
athletes and their families remains uncertain as to whether it is worth it.
One of the reasons that I have delayed releasing this story is that I felt haunted about writing these stories that
present Ironman as a glorious wonderful experience. So, I have written a brief article titled “Ironman – The Dark
Side”. I felt the need to tell the other side of the truth. That article will accompany this one (and be on my web site).
In preparation for this year’s Ironman, my training hours had a heavy focus on the bike. Most of my rides were spent
on the Niagara Escarpment. My favourite rides were in the Forks of the Credit area. To prepare for Ironman Canada
you need a lot of time climbing hills on the bike. This years training was very difficult because of the extreme heat
and humidity that seemed to last all summer long in Ontario.
Again this year, my son Adam joined me on the trip to Penticton. My daughter Megan was working at a camp in
Switzerland. The trip was exciting for us all. This trip was special for Adam because our good friend Teresa Deveaux
was racing this year. For me, I had been to Penticton 6 times when I was representing Subaru as the title sponsor
and I raced there last year. Ironman Canada is like the senior prom for me now. It is a celebration of fitness and
good relationships in triathlon. Ironman Canada is the premier Ironman race in North America. For me, the other
Ironman races are pale by comparison. IMC has the biggest and best crowds and the most incredible volunteers.
They number over 5000, which means more than 2 volunteers for every athlete. The course is magnificently
beautiful and extremely challenging.
The Swim
Having now done more than 60 Triathlon open water swims, I think now I have the hang of it. The difference
between a normal triathlon swim and an Ironman swim is the number of people with you. Almost all of our normal
triathlon swims are wave starts with less than 100 people. The Ironman starts all 2200+ athletes at the same time. It
is a traumatic experience until you learn the tricks. Finding your own space is foremost and knowing how not to get
kicked or punched is the second.
I know that I am getting better at finding my own space, but it seems to me that the other athletes were much better
at it this year. Perhaps it was the change to the swim course this year that made it easier. The first turn is 1612
meters (1.00 mile). All the athletes were spread out on the way to the first turn. We were probably 150 people a
breast. When we arrived at the first turn the traffic got very heavy. Many swimmers made a wide right turn, which
takes longer. I went in close to the turn boat. My strategy for not getting hurt was the following;
* Don’t be shy and go into the corner hard. Don’t back down. Don’t let up.
* Keep your eye on the other swimmers’ elbows, fists and feet.
* Don’t be afraid to get in really close to avoid getting hit, most other athletes will back off if you rub them.
* If you get punched or kicked keep moving. Don’t wait for the second punch.
* Hockey players will note that this is the same strategy we use in the hockey corners or in front of the net. The main
difference is that we don’t deliberately punch each other in triathlon. In this Ironman swim, the girls had pink caps on
and the guys had blue caps on, so we could act appropriately. I have been hugged a few times during a swim, but I
have never been kissed.
I escaped through corner number one with almost no contact. Turn number 2 is another 450 meters. In that area,
we had lots of traffic again. By this time, all the inconsistent swimmers were way behind and all the really aggressive
ones were way ahead, so it became easy to keep your own space while being very close to the other swimmer. I had
a women stay with me for about 1000 meters. We were face to face and she was on my left. Most of the time she
was only about 14 inches away, but her stroke was so consistent with mine that I kept an eye on her fists and
elbows. I would have moved away from her, but each time I looked to the right, I had someone on that side too.
Usually someone was just ahead also. All this traffic created a draft current and that helps us along. It actually feels
like swimming downstream.
For the first time ever (in an Ironman) I did not stop to rest or just tread water. The swim seemed to be over too
soon. I looked at my watch upon exiting the water and it read 1 hour and 26 minutes. Some 3 minutes faster than
last year. I was pleased knowing that we usually don’t get such a dramatic improvement in the swim. Not that it
matters much; it won’t make that much difference over a 16 hour day. What would matter most was how well my bike
ride would go.
T1
Transition was crazy. The tent was packed with men. Everyone was trying to change their clothes, while our hands
shake. The swim lasted an hour and half, so our bodies seem reluctant to switch back to talking and dealing with
fine motors skills like putting on socks and opening plastic bags. The tent was full of great excitement and happy
people. There are lots of smiles and conversation about the swim. Most are happy to have it over with. The
volunteers are very excited too and try to help anyone they can, but the whole place is just chaos. Volunteers
usually pack our bags as we change into our bike gear. On the way out of the tent, there is a huge pile of hundreds
of gear bags lying on the ground. I thought, “How will they ever sort them out”, but they always do.
I had already applied my own sun screen. When I exited the tent, a man was holding a canister and spray nozzle
filled with sunscreen. I had him spray the back of my shirt and shorts. My bike ride would be nearly 8 hours and the
sun is strong enough to burn you through your shirt. Each fall I noticed than my back is tanned despite the fact that
I never go shirtless outside.
The Bike
I headed out on the bike feeling excited about the day challenge. Last year I had become dehydrated on the bike
ride. I was able to recover from dehydration later in the day, but not until hours later. That made last year’s race
mostly miserable. I was determined not to let that happen again. Also, at the Half Ironman race in Peterborough in
2005, I dehydrated so bad that I could not eat. Later in my bike ride, I bonked and had to lie down under a tree until
I gained the strength to recover. It was the first time I had ever quit a race. You would have though I learned my
lesson, but later that same summer I had the same problems again in Penticton (IMC 2005). It almost cost me my
Ironman last year.
All summer this year (in Ontario) it was very hot and humid. After 4 years of this type of training, I have learned to
adapt. The whether conditions are hot each year at Subaru Ironman Canada. Race day was to be 33 Celsius (91
F). Combining that with mountain climbs can make you fall behind on your hydration quickly. I was determined not to
let it happen again this year.
I had seen the movie “Jarhead” and had gotten a great idea from it. The US soldiers would march in the desert heat,
then each would have to “chug” and 500ml bottle of water, then march some more and repeat. That is how they
trained their bodies to drink and cope with the desert heat.
Last year, I fell behind on hydration because I was panting too much riding the mountain climbs to drink. Once you
fall behind, it is very difficult to catch up.
This time, my strategy was to stop the bike at every aid station during the mountain segments and chug a 500 ml
bottle water before continuing. This would also help my other problem of sore feet due to poor circulation. Each stop
was less than 2 minutes each; long enough to relieve the stress on my feet and chug a bottle. I had trained myself
during the summer to chug a bottle. Usually with a 20 second break in between, I could chug the whole bottle in
about 45 seconds without feeling too bloated after (well not really bad). You can’t wait until race day to try this stuff;
you will probably puke it back up.
This year, I had dropped my weight 23 pounds in an effort to help this. And that really helped me all day.
Richter Pass is perhaps the most difficult climb we face. I had really gotten beaten up bad last year with the climb to
Richter Pass. It was really tough again this year, but I was well enough hydrated that it did not leave me weak. The
next segment is called “the rollers” because it’s a series of hills which are challenging but not crazy like Richter and
Yellow Lake.
After “the rollers” we enter the “out and back” section which travels through the town of Keremeos and the
settlement of Cawston. Each is located in an agricultural valley. It always seems hot in this area, and it sure felt hot
on this day (maybe 33C or more). To me, we should call it ‘death valley”. It begins at about 108 kilometers into the
bike. For the Ironman athletes, it can be a dreadful place. The special needs station is located near the turn around
at about the 120 kilometer mark. Last year I stopped at the special needs station. This is where many athletes stop
to get the things they need from their special needs bags. Many athletes get what they need and carry on. This is
also where several people loose their battle with the Ironman (47 athletes quit during the bike). It seemed to me that
those who were stopped looked horrible. My plan was to avoid this place. Spending time to rest here would drag
down my spirits. I had taped a nearly empty bottle of sunscreen to my bike, and stuffed a small bag of Vaseline
under my bike seat. I had all I needed, so I went on to the next aid station instead. These people are a much better
group to spend the 3 minutes with. There was an apple orchard behind them. I wandered in among the trees and
watered the grass. I felt so proud of myself because I knew that I made it into “death valley” and I had a big lead on
hydration, despite the very hot weather. I knew I would not repeat last year’s error.
The Ironman is such a long day that you must think of the course in segments, and focus on just that segment and
your objective for that segment. The first 60 kilometers of the bike ride is a reasonably difficult challenge. The next
48 kilometer segment (Osoyoos to Keremeos) is extremely difficult. Training can prepare you for this, but only
during the Ironman do you get to test yourself on the accumulated effect. For example, on any given day, you can
ride your bike up the climb to Richter Pass and you might think it’s easy. The Ironman will test your ability to Climb
Richter Pass after you have already swam 3.8 kilometers and already rode your bike 60 kilometers and now you
have the mid-day sun and the 33C temperature to deal with.
So for me, I had my own little victory celebration in the apple orchard in Cawston. I still had a very long way to go,
but I had made it this far (120 km) and I had met or exceeded the objectives so far.
After the “out and back” segment (132km) comes the climb to Yellow Lakes. This climb is about 18km. Athletes
debate on which is more difficult, Richter or Yellow Lakes. They are both about 1200+ feet. They are both “world
class” cycle hills. Which climb inflicts more misery varies depending on the day and how the athlete is feeling. It
seems to me that the climb to Yellow Lakes is less difficult, but because it comes so late in the bike ride it can inflict
more misery on you than Richter.
My spirits were very good on my climb, but the other athletes I seen were not doing so well. When we reached the
Yellow Lake summit, some of the athletes from the “Cops for Cancer” group had stopped. I stopped at the aid
station and a woman from the “Cops” was about to quit. A spectator had called over the ambulance for her. Another
guy Cop was with her also. When I looked into her eyes I could see that she wasn’t sick, but rather she was mentally
beaten up. She had not been off the bike for more than 30 seconds after an extremely difficult segment. As the
ambulance pulled nearby, I said to her, “don’t you climb into that wagon, you have come too far to quit now. It’s
mostly down hill from here on”. She said, “Yes I know, mostly, but still some climbing. I have done this before”. I said
to her, “well then, this is why we came here, because it is not easy”. Her male Cop friend said to her, “I will wait with
you, we will rest for a moment, and then we will go”. My spirits were not dampened by this episode, but rather I was
inspired, I knew that this woman would be able to continue. The Ironman will bend and twist your mental spirit long
before it will “break” you. She was in a frantic mental state, but she was not beaten yet.
I continued on, the next 30 kms have some severe descents, so I needed to keep my concentration focused. At one
time, the computer indicated I was traveling 75 kilometers per hour. If you fall off at that speed, it’s gonna hurt. So
the game plan during this segment is to eat and drink and most importantly, keep that front wheel straight.
I arrived into town some 35 minutes ahead of last year.
Last year I spent too long in transition after the bike. I would not make the same mistake this year. I quickly gathered
my stuff and headed out on the run. My transition time improved by 8 minutes, and every little bit helps.
The Run
Now that I was 43 minutes better than last years pace, it was time to think about race strategy and my run pace.
Last year my finish time was 16 hours 45 minutes. The opportunity now existed to break the 16 hour barrier. I had
thought about that possibility before the race. I considered it again as I headed out on the run. Then I decided, why
bother. For many athletes, finishing under a certain hour level is a worthy goal. For me, it wasn’t. I wanted to be
certain that I would finish period. Pushing harder would mean that I could overdue it and not finish. It would be hard
enough as it was.
The run is the full marathon distance of 42.2 kilometers or 26.2 miles. For many years the marathon was the
ultimate test of endurance. Running the marathon during the Ironman is a completely different circumstance for
virtually all age group athletes. An age group athlete who runs a standalone marathon has different concerns. Their
run pace is much faster.
The Ironman age groupers run pace is much slower because they have already swam for over an hour then cycled
for another 6-7 hours or more. So we begin the marathon with more complications involving fatigue, hydration and
nutrition.
In the Ironman, if an age grouper can make the 5:30 p.m. bike cutoff, they still have 6.5 hours to run the marathon
and still make the midnight cutoff for finishers. This means our run pace needs to be 14.9 minutes per mile or
better. Tall people can do that pace at a brisk walk. I have to use a walk and run combination because my legs are
short (but really handsome).
The bike cut off is 5:30 p.m. For all of us who complete the bike after about 3:45 p.m., there is a great deal of
walking involved. If we have enough fitness, the biggest concern becomes not getting sick. The only way to prevent
sickness is with hydration and nutrition. Eating and drinking is normally a joyful experience, but during the Ironman
marathon, eating can be extremely difficult. Most times you are forcing yourself to eat and drink when you don’t feel
like it. My Mother always told me not to eat too quickly and to sit still for a while after, so that I could digest my food
properly. During the race, we need to eat while we are still moving. Each bite of food is swallowed with the great
hope of being able to keep it down. For me, I slow my pace down to a walk, eat the food, get dizzy and wobbly, wait
for the dizziness to pass, and then increase the pace again. I would repeat this process 4 times each hour.
The biggest mistake athletes can make is not eating now because they hope they will be feeling better later, and
later it gets too late, and they have to drop out.
Being as I have done 2 Ironman’s in the past, I knew that I would face these problems. Not finishing an Ironman race
is an extreme disappointment because we spend so much time and money over the year to prepare for it. Rather
than try to run fast enough to break 16 hours, my focus was on not getting sick.
At Ironman Canada, the first 45 minutes has lots of spectators and excitement to keep us excited. I made sure I
soaked up some of that glory as I moved through town, while at the same time making sure I ate as much as I could.
It was still very hot. I decided I would adjust my run pace to the minimum during the first half of the run, get enough
to eat and drink and then increase my pace during the second half when the day gets cooler after the sun goes
down. I had to trust that my fitness was adequate to achieve that.
At about the 6 kilometer mark, I was surprised to see my coach Nigel Grey coming in the other direction. Last year,
he had his best ever race and finished 3rd overall. Last year he was finished his race long before I even had gotten
off the bike. This year however, things had not gone so well for him. Often times, pros will just quit their Ironman
races if their day isn’t going well. Age groupers wouldn’t quit unless they have to. Nigel and his coaching group
probably had something like 15 athletes competing in this race. Despite Nigel’s really bad day, he stayed out with us
and finished his race. I have great respect for him for that. Later on, Nigel explained to me that when he saw me on
the run course, he had been thinking to himself how miserable he felt and how it seemed that his day was way too
long. When he saw me, he knew I was just starting my run (with another 6 hours to go), and he said he couldn’t
imagine what it would be like to be out on the course that long.
As soon as we leave town, the run continues along Skaha Lake. The scenery is beautiful. The heat from the sun
was still strong but the breeze from the lake makes it bearable. I would have the lake in view for the next 2 hours. I
just kept moving and eating.
Near the turn around I saw many familiar faces. My friend Gord Brockie was well ahead of me and was having a
good day, but told me he was not going to win his age group category this year (age 70-74) and as a result he
would not get his qualifying spot for the world championship in Hawaii this year. It was good to see him. Earlier in the
day we started the swim together, just like we have many times before in our races in Ontario. I remember saying to
him as we entered the water, “just another Sunday morning triathlon”. He had looked at me and smiled, but we both
knew the Ironman was not just another triathlon. Gord has done more than a dozen Ironman’s. He is truly amazing.
I also saw 76 year old retired nun Madonna Buder. She has completed over 200 triathlons including thirteen
Ironman Triathlons. Her day was not going well. Shortly after I saw her, she had to withdraw. Later in the year, she
did complete the Ironman in Hawaii less than a minute before the cutoff. She is an inspiration to us all.
I also saw Karen Frank. She won this year’s Iron Spirit award. She is battling 2 different forms of cancer. When I saw
her, her pace was good and she looked strong. She did manage to finish her race shortly after midnight.
Much earlier, I saw my friend Teresa Deveaux-Smithers. It seems that she is always cheerful. On this day she had
good reason to be, she was on her way to a sub 12 hour day.
The second part of the run is mostly filled with darkness. In preparation for this, I had a small flashlight in my special
needs bag. It was a big help. My run strategy was to increase my run speed during the 2nd half. As expected, the
temperature got much cooler and it was easier to maintain a good run speed.
Cathy Cole and Geoff Craig of Subaru found me out on the darkest part of the run course. Geoff has been doing
marathons over the last couple of years. Again this year, he joined me on my run. This time he stayed with me for
over 30 minutes. It was great to have the support. He was very confident that my run pace would have me finish
before 11 p.m. However, I still had a long, long way to go. Before he left, he said he would tell my son Adam and all
our friends to expect me any time after 11 p.m. As they left me, I felt strong and confident.
All continued well until I reached the edge of town. Then I started to run into some difficulty. I felt strong during my
run segment, but each time that I would slow down into my walk portion I would get dizzy. The closer I got to the
finish line, the worse the problem became. During the last 2 kilometres, when many spectators were nearby, I would
stagger like a drunken sailor each time I would transcend from run to walk. I had experienced these symptoms in
other races and felt I would be ok as long as I kept moving. My heart rate was normal.
At one point, I staggered so bad I wandered into the spectators on Lakeshore. No one seemed too concerned.
As I continued onto the last ¾ kilometre the crowd was thick and having great fun. My vision was quite blurred. As I
neared the finish line, I could see lights and crowds of people but could not see an opening for the finish chute. So I
just continued towards the brightest lights and somehow I found myself between the fences of the finishers chute
and the crowd was screaming and the music was booming. I wanted to really enjoy the moment but I knew I couldn’t
stay upright much longer.
As I reached the finish line Cathy Cole met me. As she moved in close, I could see the look of concern on her face
(pictures would later reveal that I looked awful). I moved a few more steps and through my blurred tunnel vision I
could see Ironman Society Chairman Judy Sentes with my son Adam. They helped Adam stand up out of his wheel
chair so he could hang my finisher’s medal on me. I remember taking another few steps to speak to my coach Nigel
and then I went down. The next thing I knew I was on a stretcher looking up at the leaves on the trees and the faces
of the medical staff. I was concerned about Adam. What would he be thinking? Then I reached to my chest to feel
my finisher’s medal. I wanted to be certain that I had it, and that I did really finish.
A nurse leaned over me and started to ask questions. The first one was. Does anyone in your family have a history
of heart disease? “Yes”, I said. She said, “Do you have a history of heart disease?” “Yes”, I said. After that, things
became very busy around me. They started trying to take my pulse but I said, “Just read the number on my heart
monitor”. From then on the medic held my wrist and she read off my heart rate every 10 seconds to the other staff
as we proceeded to the medical tent. They all thought I was having a heart attack but I knew I was not. Ironman
Triathletes experience this common occurrence from time to time. My coach suspects it’s related to a nutrition
deficiency. Looking back, I suspect that a few more gels would have been the solution. I had stopped the gels
during the last 5 km, and that was probably why I had the problem. I had lots of salt; I was really well hydrated, so we
suspect it was some sort of wired bonk (some form of nutrition deficit).
The medical tent is a strange place. The beds are really just pool side lounges. The blankets look like they were
borrowed from the homeless shelter. The lead doctor that attended to me seemed to want to practise his stand up
comedy routine.
After the medical staff was satisfied my heart was normal, somebody came by and gave me juice and cookies.
Cheryl from the Ironman Society came by to tell me that she had spoken to Adam and assured him that I would be
ok.
I had finished the race and achieved a personal best of 16 hours 26 minutes. I left the medical tent before midnight.
My entire time spent with them was probably about 23 minutes. I quickly returned to the finish line area to find Adam,
I thought he would be frantic. I found him sitting with Kevin McKinnon of Ironman Live, looking over computer results.
I said to Adam that I was fine and that I hoped that he wasn’t scared about my trip to the medical tent. He replied,
“no I wasn’t scared, people have been falling down all day and being carried away on the stretcher. Kevin
(McKinnon) told me it happened to him sometimes after his Ironman races. I knew you would be ok.”
We watched the fireworks for a few minutes and we then gathered up my stuff and went back to the hotel. Upon
arrival at the Hotel, my cell phone rang. It was my daughter Megan calling from her camp in Switzerland. She wanted
to hear all the details. She wanted so much to be there. She plans to be with me when I attempt my 4th Ironman in
August 2007. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Photos of my Ironman event are on my website at www.johncrawford.ca Just click on my personal site. You can find
them all there.
The End
(for now)