Post Race Recap: Ironman Louisville Kentucky 2010

In pursuit of life's goals, I raced my first Ironman Louisville, Kentucky on August 29th 2010 consisting of a 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike and 26.2 mile run. They say, getting to the Ironman starting line is a major accomplishment and getting to the finish line changes your life forever.

From the moment I arrived in Louisville, it was truly magical. Magical, because I marked this date on my calendar first then embarked on an epic training journey to get here, surrounding myself with positive like minded people to help me see it come to fruition. This journey has been a transformation; I started triathlon weighing 195 lbs and today weigh 170 lbs, re-discovering the athlete in my former self. Today, I'm in the best shape of my life and completely ready to validate that statement when I hear "you are an Ironman".

The pleasure of being at my first Ironman is worn with my team Odwalla sponsored gear and a huge smile on my face, attracting conversation with just about everyone. People are arriving from all over the world to create this triathlon bubble. Everyone who does an Ironman has an inspiring journey and the positive, goal oriented attitude is shared with all these other people who have worked hard to get here. I picked up triathlon as an individual event but realize you never do it alone. There with you is everyone who ever advised or supported your training. The people met and the fiends made on my training journey are here with me today and I'm thankful for all their support and experience invested in this goal. I know when I need to dig deep, I'll find that mental place within where I have pushed myself in training side by side with a friend and will now use that in my arsenal on race day.

We live in a world of comfort and there are two types of people, those who say I can't and those who say I can. Personally, I have pushed myself to get comfortable being uncomfortable and embrace the challenge. An example of this is forgoing television at night and setting the AM alarm clock, not as a trend but as a routine. It took starting power to become that morning workout person and staying power to stick with the program to see improvements. Similarly, it will take starting power to sign up for an Ironman and staying power to finish. It's that mindset I share today with all the athletes in Louisville which includes one of the largest fields in Ironman history, about 3,000 athletes.

I stayed at the Galt, the events host hotel at the bank of the Ohio River. Immediately after checking into the hotel was athlete check in followed by dinner in a massive banquet ballroom for the athletes. Everything from the flight to shuttle to check in to dinner, etc. is following an agenda to the tee so being a little type A and printing everything out by date & time works in my favor, allowing me to settle down and simply do these necessary agenda items while focusing my energy and thoughts on what's really important, the event, not the overhead.

The morning before the race was a practice swim. The week prior, I changed my mindset to eastern time and alarm to 2 am PST so there was no adjustment to a 5 am routine once in Kentucky because I literally practiced it the week before. Waking up without an alarm, using the restroom, eating, etc. was familiar to me at 5 am EST eliminating one less variable to stress my body with for this race. As some stood in the swim starting line holding a cup of coffee having a difficult time adjusting to this hour, I was stretching, warming up and rehearsing my game face approach. The practice swim was to jump into the Ohio River and swim to the bridge and back. I was one of the first five in, creating a completely clear route all the way out. On the way back, hundreds of athletes were headed in the opposite direction as me which I had to weave through and practice looking up to avoid. Exiting the swim, I was stoked to finally feel the environment and turn on my engine which had been uncomfortably held in during my taper. I was also very exited to discover another variable had been removed, the water a warm 84 degrees and not so clear felt like for like with my home turf, Lake Kawea where I had put in my practice open water swims.

The afternoon before the race was bike check in at the Great Lawn. The transition area to host 3,000 bikes was massive. The orientation was also completely new. Instead of transitioning at your bike rack, the transition is in a tent where you call out your number and the volunteer hands you your designated bike or run bag. Because transitions have nothing to do with fitness and everything to do with executing your plan, I did a walkthrough rehearsal which evidentially paid off as my actual T1/T2 transition times (3:53/3:45) were at par with the pro's, something those in my Visalia Tri Club call free speed.

The night before the race was an early dinner with my mom and wife. It was a time to slow down and enjoy the moment and both their faces were glowing just as I had pictured this vacation to be. Savoring a date at a destination race is truly special.

The morning of the race, at 5 am athlete check in the temperature in Louisiville was 79 degrees. The race begins with a unique time trial swim start that takes the competitors along side Towhead Island before turning back down-stream. Because of the time trial start, a line forms at 5 am and I estimate every 10 minutes will put approximately 300 athletes starting before you. The hotel is almost a mile walk from the swim start with the transition in the middle so it's a continuous flow of athletes walking to the start with a sense of urgency for their place in line. Arriving at the transition to check in my bike and run bags, I opened my pack, rooted through the contents and remembered taking my bottles out to place them in the fridge. Realizing I'm on the clock for my planned position in line, I minimized this impact by borrowing a fellow athlete's phone and calling up to the room having my wife Jamie meet me in her pajama's to deliver my missing water bottles. We later laughed at making her walk in her pajamas in front of all these athletes, ha!

At 7 am, the gun fires and the pro's start. I observe the line they took closer too the island instead of to the right of the buoys and plot my route. For the age group start, every 3 seconds an athlete jumps into the water from the line and there are two lines sending athletes in. The entire bay starts to look like a massive human herd with splashes everywhere.

I positioned myself in line behind the fastest looking swimmer I could find and held his line after we jumped in allowing myself to take advantage of following his bubbles as he looked up to navigate around those we passed. This strategy allowed me to conserve considerable energy for the first 3 buoys which would have otherwise been spent ramping up to an open line.

After the third bouy, my speed for the most part was governed by choosing a lane in a herd of traffic and making decisions when to overtake the person in front of me. Once I passed the island, I was able to get away from people and pick the next bouy and make a line to it instead of just negotiating space in the herd. This portion of the swim was also the only upstream current between the end of the island and turn around. When I reached the turn around bouy I was one third of the way complete. The bouy line back stretched further than the eye could see but in the distance I could see a bridge as a major way point to keep in mind.

After swimming for 30 minutes, the mind becomes acutely aware of feelings, thoughts and senses. I am feeling great. I focused on stroke. I'm paying close attention to not breath in any water on accident. I'm able to sense my proximity to the shoreline and observe my position is closer to the shore as some of the field has gone deep trying to catch the current. Thinking back at the upstream swim to turn around, I did not sense enough current to warrant a change of course into deeper waters. As I settle into my existing route, I fall into a trance, completely clearing my mind of other distractions. As I focus on the present, the bridge is now overhead and I can observe my speed as each breath allows me to see the bridge moving further in the distance behind me.

As I reach the end of the swim, I get a surge of adrenaline as other competitors now bunch up and begin to bump into each other seeking their position going into the gates. Upon exiting the water, I am in a hypersensitive state going from a swimming trance like rhythm to now standing upright bringing a rush of blood to the head. Pulling my earplugs out, I can hear the crowds, taking my goggles off my eyes start to adjust and I stagger off and onward toward transition.

Entering the T1, I call out my number 1708. I sit down in the tent and put on my shoes & helmet, place my goggles & cap back in the bag and I'm off observing this is a faster transition than anyone else in the tentdoing crazy things like drying off or doing anything other than a simple execution of the bare minimum.

The day continues with an impressive bike course that winds past some of the world's most famous Kentucky Derby horse country. For me, the bike course is my strong leg where I'm really in the zone executing. The first portion is picking off the fast swimmers and re-grouping for the most part with fellow competitors I deem as fast on the bike. Although the elevation high is 1,000 feet, the whole course is rolling climbs going up and down for 112 miles of rollers. Half way through the bike course I am making great time averaging 20 mph. At this point, the heat & humidity set in and I start to notice really fit people dropping out, dehydrated on the side of the road. Luckily, I had absolutely executed my nutrition plan taking in Odwalla bars, gew & fluid. Those who were on the side of the road were the fastest swimmers & bikers just in front of me who let lack of nutrition plus humidity lead to a crash. I did sense some dehydration on the bike as my mind second guessed me on the second loop thinking it was a third, finding sites on the side of the road all too familiar.

After completing the second loop on the bike, the line back to town was against the wind where time trial aerodynamics have the advantage. I'm on a road bike so my average pace going back did fall to 17/18 mph, plus this is the portion when I started thinking about preparing the legs in a gear suited for the marathon to follow.

Entering the T2, I call out my number 1708. I sit down in the tent and put on my run shoes, placing my helmet and bike shoes back in the bag and I'm off, a fast transition keeping my routine to the bare minimum.

Heading out on the marathon I knew this not only is the hardest portion but the heat & humidity will change my ideal race into plan b, survival mode. Come to find out, 36% of the pro field who finished the swim did not finish and dropped out during the bike or run leg. Only 5 pro's ran a Boston Qualifying time of sub 3:15. Those 5 with the ability to race in the heat are pure machines, for the remainder, doing the marathon in the heat & humidity was pure survival.

The bible says, run with patients the race that is set before us. In the blistering sun, relentless humidity and radiant heat off the pavement I knew at the start this marathon it was going to be the hardest thing I have ever done and I would have to bull thorough it. My plan was to rest more frequently to cool down so I would walk the aid stations and run in between. As the day went on, every single mile had a really good athlete faster than me dangerously overheated with an ambulance and IV at the side of the course. The thought of dehydration hung over all of us.

And so the day went, I treated myself to walking the rest stops then running in between. Each time I set off after an aid station, the heat came flooding back raising my core temperature, heartbeat and all signs of dehydration setting in. A person suffering dehydration experiences several progressive stages: muscle contractions, a distorted sense of time & distance, heaviness in movement, weariness, illogical decisions and everyone around me was suffering these symptoms. My response to everyone suffering due to the extreme heat and humiditywas don't worry about what you can't control, move forward and take on what's next and for us it was finding a moment of shade or glimpse of that next aid station that drove us to press on. Winning is doing the best you can with what your given and today I am leaving nothing on the course as I move forward through the Louisville city streets acutely aware of each step, wiping burning sweat from my eyes and surviving the elements with a smile.

By the time I reached the last mile, the 25 prior seemed like a remote memory. In the distance, the amplified announcements, the music, the crowds all combine to fire up my adrenaline. I had reached the finishline celebration at Fourth Street Live and achieved a defining part of my life as the announcer said "Joshua Hickey, Visalia CA, YOU ARE ANIRONMAN!". I had instantly transformed from a person surviving to a person now thriving in the transformation of crossing the Ironman finishline for the very first time. Looking beside me, it was magical to see everyone who truly endured something similar. As take away from such an event, this is my favorite quote: "What you get by achieving your goalsis not as important as what you become by achieving your goals."

Good luck to all those reading this post race report and embrace the journey in pursuit of life's goals.