My First Ironman
By John Crawford, age 52
On July 25, 2004, I completed the Ironman Triathlon in 16 hours, 35 minutes and 24 seconds. This is my story.
The Ironman Triathlon is compromised of a 3.86km (2.4 mile) Swim, an 180.2km (112 mile) bike ride and finally
the full Marathon of 42.4 km (26.2 miles)
Preamble
We arrived in Lake Placid on Wednesday July 21. My son Adam and my daughter Megan were with me. I woke
up on race day feeling refreshed and confident. I was telling myself that this was just another Triathlon, and
that this one was no different that the rest. That of course, is not true. This was the Ironman. The lessons
learned in the 45 other Triathlons I had done would be of great value, but the Ironman is an entirely different
challenge. I had also done Olympic Distance races and even some Half Ironman distance races. At the time,
those distances were extremely difficult challenges. However, the jump to the Ironman distance requires a
much bigger commitment to training. The manual recommends 450 hours of workouts per year. The workout
volumes range between 8 to 19 hours per week. In my case, as I increased my workout volumes, I required lots
of time for rest and recovery. There was many months when I felt tired all the time. On the other hand. As my
fitness increased, I found I could do long workouts without being extremely tired. It is extremely fulfilling when I
finally reached that stage
I had retired from my job at Subaru last Christmas and focus my full attention on preparation for this race. My
training had included long distance bike rides between 90km and 180km on many occasions. I had even made
a trip to South Carolina and Florida in March to train. Also, I made 2 trips to Lake Placid to train on actual
course.
From April to June, I would train mostly on the hills of the “Forks of the Credit” and Niagara escarpment area
north of Milton. Ironman USA is said to be one of the most difficult bike course in the world. Some of my Tri
friends tried to persuade me to do IM Florida instead, because it is much easier. However, like every thing else
in my life, I have always found myself doing things the hard way.
My Heart Bi-Pass Surgery was October 1, 1997. It took me 2 years of training to build up my strength to be
able to run 5km. My doctors encouraged me to exercise. I was told I should exercise about 20 minutes a day. I
first attempted a Duathlon in May 2001. I became hooked on the sport, and started to train more. My doctors
told me that I could exercise all I wanted, on the strict condition that I ALWAYS stayed with my recommended
heart rate range. So, I always wear a Heart Rate Monitor when I exercise.
What I learned from wearing a Heart Rate Monitor is that I can do everything (Swim, Bike, Run, Hockey), but
my pace would be relatively slow. Well actually, really slow. When I began doing races, it was very difficult to
accept that I would be near the rear of the field in every race. However, I told myself that my circumstances
were different, and with that my expectations needed to be different. I have never met anyone doing Triathlon
who also has had a Heart Bi-Pass. Still, it is truly a humbling experience to attend a Triathlon with 300 people
or more and finish dead last. In those first 2 years, it happened to me more than once. I would still attend each
awards presentation after every weekend race. After all, my fitness and health goals were being achieved, so
why not enjoy the time with people.
Despite my physical challenges, I found I could do Triathlons of longer and longer distance. I knew I could
never be the fastest, and I would never win my age group category, but I knew I could go for the longer
distances. In the first 3 years of doing Triathlons, I did not believe that an Ironman was possible for me. In July
2002, my friend Lisa Bentley (7 time Ironman Champion) insisted that I could, provided I did the specific
training required. I continued to argue that it was not possible for me. However, I kept increasing my fitness.
Then, in October 2003, I decided I would make my attempt to do the Ironman. I had many difficulties to
overcome, but Lisa said she would work with me and advise me on what training I would needed to do.
Ironman Canada is my favourite venue, but my niece would have her wedding that same weekend and I really
wanted to attend that. I originally wanted to do Ironman Florida, but that race is in November, and I really
wanted to do the Ironman long before that. So, I decided on Ironman USA (July). Later, I would learn of how
difficult the bike course at Lake Placid was and that would be a big problem for me.
On June 10, I went to Lake Placid to train on the bike course. I was shocked to learn how slow my time was.
The mountain climbs were more than I could handle. If that would have been my race day performance, I would
have missed the bike cut off time by 30 minutes or so. If you miss the cutoff time, you are disqualified from the
race. Seems cruel, but the organizers can not leave the course open all day. The race course is supported
with volunteers, aid stations, support vehicles, bike mechanics. They can’t stay all day. So, in an Ironman race,
the bike cutoff is at 5.30 p.m.
After my first training attempt on the actual bike course, I came home from Lake Placid very disappointed. I was
ready to withdraw from the race. I had dedicated six months of my life to preparing for this race, and now it
seems that it would not be possible for me. When I got home, I called Coach Nigel Gray and Lisa Bentley. They
were both tremendously supportive. Lisa helped me through the psychology of the disappointment. Over the
last 2 years, Lisa new of my problems with “self doubt”. From the beginning, she insisted I could do the
Ironman, even when I argued that it was unrealistic for me. She is such an inspiration to watch race. So, when
this 7 time Ironman Champion pushed me into a corner, and told me straight out, “you can do this”, I felt I had
better listen, and start to believe in myself. There are great lessons to be learned during a defeat.
Nigel on the other hand, was focused on the practical aspect of the problems. We discussed my training ride at
great length. We analyzed everything. RPM’s, heart rate, road speed, fatigue periods, rest periods, physical
soreness, nutrition, hydration. During the second half of my training ride, I had walked many of the hills. In the
end, we figured out that my failure was due to 2 main problems. Part one was the gearing on my bike. Part 2
was my mental toughness. Mental toughness is something that grows from suffering defeat. Nothing has ever
come easy for me. Ironman USA might be more than I could handle, but we weren’t beat yet.
Nigel sent me into my bike dealer, Remy Sports in Streetsville, to find a “compact crank” for my bike. The
owners of the shop, Jean Paul and his brother Andrew chased all over North American to find the unit that
would fit my bike. We had to rush to get here in time. There was only a few weeks left to test it.
On June 23, I was off to ride the course in Lake Placid again. This time, with new gearing on my bike, a new
cycling strategy and adjustments to my attitude.
Lisa pounded away at my “self doubt”. Nigel basically was again more practical. I don’t know the exact words
Nigel said, but for me it sounded something like, “you put your ass on that bike seat, and stand on the pedals
when you have to, but don’t get off of that bike to walk any hills”. Ok, I though, simple enough instructions.
The second training ride was much less intimating. The more I ride the hills, the less they seemed so
overwhelming. This time, I rode with Sandra Godard. I did not know her very well. I had met her last year at
Ironman Canada, when she finished her first Ironman. Sandra is faster on the bike than I am, but our bike
speed was close enough that we could ride together. It was good to have the company on that day. Usually I
ride alone, and that can get very lonely. After 8 plus hours on this ride, I felt I knew her much better, and that I
had a new friend.
My bike time improved dramatically (over 50 minutes). If this had been a race day performance, I would have
beaten the bike cutoff time by 38 minutes. So with that, I was inspired to attempt the Ironman USA race as
planned.
Even with the improved training performance, my race estimate would have me beat the bike cut off time by 38
minutes. That left a very small margin for error. If race day weather conditions were windy, or I encountered
mechanical problems, or physical problems, I would miss the bike cutoff. Things would have to go well on race
day.
If on race day, things went well, and I made the bike cutoff, then I would face the challenge of the Marathon. I
would have 6.5 hours to run a Marathon. I had done a Marathon in March, and it took me exactly 6.0 hours.
However on race day, I would have to do the Marathon after swimming 3.8km, then biking 180km. So, wouldn’t
that make you curious on how I was going to do that? In any event, I had resolved that, I would make my best
effort to make the bike cutoff, and if I did, then I could run the Marathon. I would have a chance at finishing the
Ironman. I believed, without a shadow of doubt, that if I got to start the Marathon, I would finish it, even if I did
not get to the finish line until after the midnight cutoff.
In Ironman racing, if you don’t finish by midnight, your results are listed as “unofficial”, or even DNF, if you’re
late enough. However, for me, if the best I could do was to finish after midnight, I would know that I had done
the Ironman distance. I would have to force myself to be satisfied with that.
In last few weeks leading up to race day, my hope was to make the bike cut off so that I could have a shot at
an official Ironman finish. All I wanted was my shot. If I did miss the bike cutoff, I would be devastated.
Race Day
The Swim
The swim was now the least of my worries. I have now done over 40 open water swims in Triathlon races. My
times were now very consistent. My estimate for the 3.8km swim was 90 minutes. The swim cutoff is 2 hours
and 20 minutes, so I had no fear of missing the swim cut off. Still, I needed a good swim in order to allow all the
rime I needed for the bike.
I bumped into my friend Teresa Deveaux when walking through the crowd to the beach. We had a big hug just
before we stepped into the water. That was a nice way to start.
The race organizers asked us to seed ourselves in order of our predicted swim times. Pro’s at the front, then
the 1 hour 10 minute group, and then the 1 hour 30 minute group. I took my right full position near the rear of
the field.
The cannon sounded and we were off. Over 1900 swimmers, all at once. It’s just crazy. In the beginning we
were crawling all over each other. I wasn’t freaked by this, because I had done it many times before, and I had
overcome that fear about a year ago. However, this was much more traffic than I had swam in before. I loved it.
I was able to draft behind other swimmers. In an Ironman races, almost everyone in the water is a pretty good
swimmer, so things move along pretty well. As the first lap progressed, I could feel my competitor’s hands
constantly brushing against my feet. This made me feel good in that they had determined that I was a worthy
partner to draft behind. And, besides, it feels good to have you feet rubbed.
The swim is 2 laps. Nigel had warned me to watch out for the pro’s completing their 2nd lap just as I would be
completing my first. The pro’s often bully their way past slower age groupers that get in their way. My friend
Sandra got roughed up pretty good last year at Ironman Canada. When I ended my first lap, I heard the race
announce say that the pros would be finishing their swim in the next few minutes. I new then that my swim was
going pretty well and I wouldn’t have to worry about getting kicked by a pro.
My second lap was great, there way less traffic, and we had room to do our own thing, and I got into a rhythm. I
came out of the water, right on my plan. So far, so good!
What a thrill it is to run by the big crowd of spectators, cheering and clapping. Many times, age groupers will
see family members on the sidelines, and go over and give a hug and kiss. The music is playing, and
everyone one is joyful at this point.
The Bike
I came out of transition and climbed on my bike at the designated mount zone, my son Adam had jumped in the
Lead Male vehicle and was long gone, but my 18 year old daughter Megan was waiting for me. She snapped
off of couple of pictures of me, and as I pulled away, I heard her scream in excitement “I love you”. In here
voice I could hear a tear. I turned to look at her; she was jumping in the air like a school girl. I though my heart
would burst with joy.
The first hour on the bike was great fun. Spectators lined the streets, cheering and clapping and holding signs.
When we got out of town, there was even more spectators. Some good old boys were on there country home
porches playing music for us as went by. It was like a big party, and it was only 8:50 a.m.
After a difficult 30 minutes of climbing hills, then comes the severe downhill. My extra weight allows me to pass
many people in this section. I am not afraid of the speeds going downhill anymore. At one point, I was doing in
excess of 80 km per hour. You need to be darn sure you don’t clip another bike at that speed.
The weather conditions were perfect. No wind, partly overcast, no real threat of rain, no humidly, no severe
heat. It was perfect.
As we went through the towns off Keene, Jay and Wilmington, the streets were lined with spectators, often in
lawn chairs having their morning coffee. I enjoyed exchanging funny comments and joking. Every 10 miles or
so, there are aid stations. The volunteers are working very hard to hand us food and fluids on the fly. They are
so enthusiastic, their excitement gives you energy. It is like a big party for them. As athletes, in Ironman race,
you feel like royalty the way that you are served by the volunteers.
The bike course is 2 laps. The last 10 miles of the lap is up-hill. The most severe portion is the last mile. It
almost seems cruel to put the hardest part at the end. However, I had little difficulty on the first lap. As we
climbed the last hill (named Papa Bear), spectators cheered us on. In my attempt to stay focused, I kept my
face down as I mashed the pedals through the most difficult portion. A man, about my age, dropped to his
knees, so that he could look into my eyes and shout words of encouragement to me. He shouted, “That’s it,
just 100 more feet and its level ground into town, welcome back!” He really brought my spirits sky high, and it
brought a lump into my throat.
At the end of lap one, I jumped off the bike for a scheduled pit stop. I needed to put on more sunscreen for the
2nd lap. It was 12.30 p.m.; I had arrived exactly on schedule. The crowd was cheering as I rode through town. I
felt great, until I got out of town, and then things started to go bad.
Bike Lap 2
Now the spectators were mostly gone. The bike traffic was less. I started thinking that I wished that my first lap
had produced a faster time. I had hoped that the energy of the spectators and my race day excitement would
have resulted in some sort of big improvement. Instead, I arrived exactly in plan. I had hoped for a better result
so I could build a “cushion” and allow more time for the 2 lap of the bike and the Marathon. It did not come.
Perhaps my expectations were unrealistic, but unfortunately, I let it get me down.
Every Ironman race has these period periods of depression, mixed in the period of joy. I knew about this. I had
experienced this before in training. I have read the books about it. I have had long discussions with Triathlon
expects about. Still, when it happens, it is awful. Really difficult.
In these darkest moments, the self-talk is an ugly debate. The dark side argues. “You are fat, and old and
slow. You should not have entered this race with your heart problems. When you fail, and you will fair, you will
have embarrassed yourself and your family. What were you thinking?”
The other side argues. “You can do this. You have done the preparation, the training, and the education. Your
race plan has been successful so far. Your coaches have said you can do this. People love you and they
believe in you. You are strong”.
The self-talk lingers on, and finally I have to put a stop to it. I think of Lisa and the things she said to me before
the race. That Ironman racing is extremely difficult and to believe in myself. I then am able to focus on the
words that Nigel had told me over and over. “Stay within the moment, and don’t get ahead of yourself”. I must
have told myself that 100 times that day.
During that dismal 2 hours of the first half of lap 2, all I could really control was my current state. “Keep
pedaling, and stop thinking about meeting the bike cut off 2 hours from now. All you can do is what you are
doing now”. So, that’s what I did.
Anyway, I was now long into my 2nd lap of the bike course. As I climbed the big hill out of the town Jay, I though
that if I could make it to the church at Wilmington by 3 p.m., I had a good chance of beating the bike cutoff.
Sure enough, I made it to Wilmington at about 3.03 p.m. (close enough) and my spirits skyrocket with optimism.
This portion of the course is an out and back. There is an aid station at the turn around. The turn around is in
a tiny village 11 kilometers from Santa’s Village. So, this aid station had decorated the area as the North Pole,
and people were dressed in a Christmas theme. The turnaround pylon was a large candy cane pole sitting on
a stack of real snow, it was about 3.30 p.m. when I arrived, and the locals were having a great time. Santa
himself was “blasted”. I was so happy at that point; I actually considered getting off my bike to give Santa a hug.
Ironman racing is a rollercoaster of emotions. The big high at the North Pole was soon followed by more
problems. Soon after I left Santa’s North Pole, the pain in my feet really flared up. I had this problem
throughout the year, but in June it really got bad. We finally changed my shoes and pedals in July, and with
some massage therapy, the problem hand not bothered me all day until now. The pain really got bad.
However, I knew I had less than 2 hours to go on the bike. I knew I could probably bear through the pain. I
knew I could temporarily relief the pain be walking the bike for brief periods, and that’s what I ended up doing. I
had to be careful not to walk so much that I would miss the 5.30 p.m. cutoff.
I picked the 2 hill peaks that I would walk through to relieve the pain in my feet. I would only allow myself to walk
5 minutes each time. If the planed worked, I would still make the bike cutoff, but now it was going to be close
(really close). I pounded back a couple of power gels to give me a sugar boost.
It all worked, I completed lap 2 at 5.15 p.m., a full 15 minutes before the cutoff. I was delighted. Some of my
friends at the event knew there was doubt about me making the bike cutoff. Very aware of this was my friends
at Sportstats, Marc Roy and Jennifer Hyde. They were the company who provided all the timing equipment for
the event. They also did this for most of the Ontario race events I attend. So, I know them well.
When I arrived and climbed off the bike, Jennifer greeted me with a big smile. She was delighted that I had
made the bike cutoff. I expect that she was also relieved to know she would not have to be the one to disqualify
me. Anyway, she walked me through transition, and helped me gather my bags, and then she walked me the
doorway of the men’s change room. That was really nice of her.
The rest of my transition went really well. The physiotherapist was not busy, so he helped my with my stuff,
then put me on the table and stretched out my back. I exited the tent and two volunteers filled my race belt
bottles with Gatorade and gels while I drank about 500 ml of water. Again I felt like royalty by the way everyone
helped me.
I was off the bike and through transition in 12 minutes, some 3 minutes ahead of plan.
The Marathon
Well, I had gotten what I had hoped for. I had been given “My Shot” at becoming an Ironman. Going into the
Marathon, I was some 9 minutes behind my plan, but I could live with that.
I would have just over 6.5 hours to run a Marathon. I had done a Marathon in March, and it took me exactly 6.0
hours. However on race day, I would have to do the Marathon after swimming 3.8km, then biking 180km. This
would be no easy task.
The plan was simple. 26.2 miles in 6.5 hours (or 390 minutes). Therefore, 390 minutes divided by 26 miles,
equals 15 minutes per mile. The Marathon course has markers to indicate each mile. I had with me, a digital
cooking clock about the size of pocket calculator. I set it for 15 minutes. The game would be to beat the clock
26 times. If I could do that, I would be an Ironman. Easy to say, much harder to do.
The run course is also 2 laps. So at 5.19 p.m. when I started the Marathon, the road was full of runners. Many
of the competitors were starting their 2nd lap, some were already finishing. The streets were filled with
enthusiastic spectators.
My pace was good, I was constantly beating the 15 minute maximum, usually by 2 minutes. I was amazed at
how well I felt. Then at about mile marker 11, I started back into the anxiety stages again. I started worrying
about not being about able to maintain the pace for the next 15 miles. I thought my chances of finishing the
Ironman before the midnight cutoff were not probable.
At mile marker 13 (half way), my daughter Megan met me. I told her that things were not too good, and that I
would not likely be able to finish by midnight, but that I would finish later, and not to worry about my late arrival,
and to prepare her brother Adam for this likelihood. I know Lisa Bentley will cringe again when she reads this.
However, when you consider the probability of the circumstances, it seemed improbable that I could run a half
marathon in less than 3 hours and 15 minutes. The prior September, when I did my half Ironman in Montreal,
the run portion took me that long. I was going to need something very special over the next 3 hours.
Later, I learned that Megan, after our little chat at mile marker 13, prayed for me, requesting an angel to guide
me to the finish line.
On or about mile marker 14, I met Jenny. A 28 year old age-grouper from San Francisco, also attempting her
first Ironman. It was now about 8.45 p.m. Jenny was walking backwards as I approached her. She said to me,
“turn around and look at the beautiful sunset”. I said, “I can’t because I am hurting and I am busy being
miserable”. Jenny laughed, and started chatting away as we continued down the road. She was quite a
cheerful woman, slim and fit, but she couldn’t run as fast as me, which was of great fascination to me. I couldn’t
really continue my miserable state with such a nice person. So I chatted with her, trying to fake a cheerful
disposition and even being an interesting guy. So, on we go, then the timer on her wrist watch sounds off, then
she says. “Sorry, time for me to walk.” I though this was great! She, like me, had trained for the Ironman
Marathon with a walk run strategy. (Was this the angel Megan had sent to me?)
We formed a verbal partnership agreement that went like this. We will speed walk up every hill. We will run
every downhill at a full speed pace. We will run a slow pace on the flats. Either party may request a ten second
walk interval, but not longer than 10 seconds. We will eat and drink at every aid station. We will walk through
every aid station. We will not desert the other party.
Jenny was a delight to run with. We laughed and told stories and encouraged each other to stay with the plan.
As we got further and further into the darkest part of the run course, we started to pass more and more
people. It was sad really, after the turnaround we knew we were going to make the midnight cutoff, but 20 or so
other people were not going to make it. We tried to encourage them to join us, but they couldn’t keep up.
At about mile marker 20 we could then see the lights of the town, and our spirits rose. Finally at mile marker
24, my feet started to feel pain again. It was about 11.02 p.m., and I only had 2 miles to go. I don’t know if I
could have kept running at that point, but I didn’t have to, and so I decided I was not going to. I told Jenny to go
head, and she went off. Later I checked the finish results to make sure she really existed, because real angels
do exist you know. Jenny would finish 6 minutes before me. I never got a change to say goodbye, but I will
always appreciate how we helped each other become an Ironman.
So, the last 2 miles I walked, and I laughed and joked with the people on the streets on the way in. Every 10
steps, some one would say congratulations and call me an Ironman. If it was this good now, I couldn’t imagine
how great it would be at the finish line.
The Finish Line
By this time, word on the internet had disclosed that I was soon to finish and story of “from Heart Surgery to an
Ironman in just a few short years” had spread throughout that finish line stadium area. The race announcer
was really playing up this aspect to drive the crowd into a “state”. As I turned onto the speed skating oval, less
than 100 feet from the finish line, Greg McFadden, the producer of the Subaru Triathlon TV series met me with
his TV camera in hand. He said that the race organizer Chris Gdanski had made allowed an exception to the
new rule and would allow my son and daughter to cross the finish line with me. When I caught up with Megan
and Adam, Adam was in his wheelchair and waiting with them was Graham Fraser, President of Ironman North
America.
I gave my daughter Megan a huge kiss and we started towards the finish line with me pushing Adam’s
wheelchair, the crowd was now screaming like crazy. Adam was so excited, reaching his arms in the air and
screaming in his chair, as we climbed the ramp over the finishes line, I thought for sure we would roll the chair
over on the ramp.
Just beyond the finish line, I could see my friends. Sue Fraser greeted me with a big smile. Then I watched her
lift her arms holding the finishers ribbon and medal over my head. As the ribbon hit my shoulders, I could feel
the weigh of the Ironman Finishers Medal tug on the ribbon. Words can not describe the power of that
moment. I though my heart would burst with joy and my knees went weak. I thought to myself, “I am an Ironman,
and no one can ever take that way from me”. It seems like a dream to me now.
There to meet me were Mitch and Janet Fraser, who drove after their race in Grimsby to Lake Placid and meet
me at the finish line. Also, there was Theresa Deveaux and her husband Chris. Teresa had completed her 2nd
IM earlier in the day and walked 2 miles back from her hotel to see my finish. Marc and Jennifer from Sportstats
were there, as well as Kevin McKinnon reporting for Ironman Live.
At the finish line, the race announcer made a big fuss about the "Heart Surgery to an Ironman". So with that, I
was forced into the medical tent. They weighed me, and I gained 1 pound during the day, I guess they were
happy with that. They asked me a few other questions and let me go. So I was fine.
Then I went and sat down with my box lunch with Megan, Adam, Mitch and Janet. After that, they helped gather
my bike and gear and loaded me into my car with Megan and Adam. We were back into our room by 12.45 p.
m. We were so cheerful, despite such a long day; we lay in bed and exchanged stories for about an hour.
Ironman has a big emotional impact on family members on race day. All day long, you see it in the faces of
thousands of people. It will bring tears to your eyes many times in a day.
The preparation to do an Ironman is extensive. The race day completion of the distances is a whole separate
adventure. Despite the difficulties in both, I would say that I will again attempt an Ironman. Probably Ironman
Canada in August 2005.
My recovery was very good. I was able to sleep for 5 hours on Sunday. By Wednesday I had caught up on my
sleep and I was feeling pretty good. The following Saturday, I went to Caledon with friends to watch Simon
Whitfield race. I wore my Ironman Finishers T-Shirt feeling proud and by now, feeling completely recovered.
John Crawford
July 2004