by Chuck Ojeda

SO WHAT WAS IT LIKE IN COEUR D’ALENE – YOU KNOW – OVERALL?

If Forrest Gump’s mother had raced Ironman Coeur D’Alene June 26^th 2011, she would have changed her observation to “IM CDA is like a box o’ chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get”.

A Calm Coeur D’Alene Lake – The Day After Race

Past CDA race days give no significant indication what you might encounter weatherwise on race day.  Should you plan for this race, you really just take the elements as they come.  This sage advice was passed to me, so I too, pass it along.  Be prepared.

We arrived Wednesday afternoon to sunny skies, 70 degrees, and a very nice two-story house just north of Coeur D’Alene, about 4 miles from the swim start village. The house was apparently owned by a nice family with 4 daughters, so pinks and lavenders ruled the day.  We settled in, and over the next six days, racers and family members of house mates came and went, so the dynamics of the house was lively -  never a dull moment, which matched weather trends. Our mates were the typical racers and supporters; great people, pitching in where needed, and genuinely helpful in making the Ironman experience special.

Thursday morning we woke to thunder, and a nice rain shower. This placed a higher priority on maybe doing a swim versus bike or run first. Gathering up our swim gear, we headed out to the lake for our first practice swim.  The only thing we didn’t pack was an anchor to prevent our belongings from being swept out of sight. How nice of CdA to welcome us with weather similar to a nice February San Francisco morning. The wind was whipping up the white caps, and the lake’s temperature lost its numerical value, and hovered between “OMG this is flipping cold!” to “How the heck am I going to survive race day?” Anyway, we played “driftwood” in the water for about a half an hour before calling it a day.

Like silly gooses, we gave a morning swim a couple more shots the succeeding days. Nothing changed. Same wind, white caps, frozen heads and tootsies, and triathletes all looking at each other with a foregone conclusion that the swim was going to be an adventure.  If the cold water wasn’t going to get you, the chop had your number. Even where the wind calmed down in other parts of town, the swim venue’s wind held steady.

Over the next couple days, we ventured out to drive the bike course, ran a bit, and cycled the out of town portion of the bike course. The two loop bike course is really divided into two parts: a flat section within town adjacent to the beautiful lake, followed by the rolling hills section to the north and views of an equally  pretty Hayden Lake. The second part is very similar to the Louisville course. Lush green rolling pastures with forested canopies of trees lining many sections. A fortunate trade-off of hilly tree lined sections blocking most of the prevailing winds.  Also, kind of like Redwood Road in the Oakland hills – but not exactly!

The bike’s hilly sections were deceptively difficult. Though no sustained long climbs, the upward pitches easily could knock average speeds from the 30’s down to under 10 MPH. The skilled and strong rider might be able to carry more speed high up the ascents, but could pay for it later in the day by mashing too much.

Afternoon temperatures leading up to race day gradually climbed, but mornings were still chilly and in the 40’s.  The rainy initial morning changed to cloudy and ultimately sunny daybreaks with hardly a breeze to disturb the lightest of branches. This I know for certain since my bedroom served as the daughters’ arts and crafts room which apparently wasn’t in need of curtains.  With sunrise coming pre 5AM, oversleeping wasn’t an issue.

WELL – WHAT ABOUT ME?

A quick primer on me leading up to the race – it starts with a decision I made in January to run the May 2011 Miwok 100K trail run in Marin. This idea was driven by the desire to get in killer running shape, and shave some serious time off my IM run split. Only this goal ended with a fall I took while on a 15 mile February 11th trail run on Diablo.  A painful strike on a rock with my knee ended up being diagnosed as a patella fracture, though I wouldn’t get x-rays to confirm it for over a week. Post fall, I did the 30K Lake Chabot trail race (no PR that day), but while favoring the knee, I strained various calf and hamstring muscles along the way.

Though one knows that bones heal by 6 weeks, patella injuries tend to linger. I can confirm that. Leading up to the Ironman, I decided to trade run fitness for bike fitness. Luckily, with 4 weeks to go, I could finally resume running versus pool running. With several centuries under my belt, but little road running, I ramped up to a least being able to do one 18 mile run prior. I also did the Metro and Silicon Valley Olympic Tri’s for some window dressing.  All said, I felt pretty good to run by race day – running was more “annoying” rather than painful.

ANYWAY – SO HOW DID THE RACE GO?

Well, if you remember the box of chocolates analogy –lake turbulence went from Rocky Road to Smooth and Creamy – problem was that the temps approached ice cream versus hot fudge.  By Saturday afternoon, the lake more resembled Shadow Cliffs. “What’s the chance the Lake will behave like that tomorrow?”, I asked.  “Not likely”, was the reply.  {damn}.  Actually, it did calm down – considerably.  Way more swimmable.  Race morning was met with the typical preparations.  The only question was foot booties, or no booties.  I don’t know about you, but I try to check what the “Jones’s” are wearing, but I didn’t have anything for my feet.  I kept seeing more foot coverage than not, but there were enough bare feet that it gave me more confidence that I could endure without as well.  With 20 minutes before the 7AM race start, and with the pros in the water already 15 minutes, I headed toward the lake – trusty neoprene “squid lid” in hand.

The race officials wouldn’t allow any warm up swims – now that was an oxymoron.  However, we could get our feet in and splash about to get some water on our faces to dilute the face shock and wait for the cannon signifying the mass run-in swim start.  I took advantage of that preparation.  With about a minute to race start my excitement turned to laughter as we all saw about three PRO racer stragglers just entering the water for their second lap.  They had no more than 60 seconds head start from about 2,300 swimmers who were going to be hot on their tails and ready to pummel them. I think there was one pro DNF.

With me about three lines of swimmers from the front and the cannon going off, we all hit the water like piranhas.  I couldn’t even swim a stroke until about 100 yards at the first buoy as the crush of bodies hemmed in any escape.  All I could think of was that when I get out of this water, no matter what happens the rest of the day, at least I could pull off and rest.  Until then, it was stroke, stroke, bam!, stroke, stroke.  Bodies perpetually everywhere.  I made the first loop in 36 minutes, got out to the shore to the timing mat, and headed back in for lap number two.  The crush continued, and I learned how to make room for myself and prevent getting kicked in the face, but when you get your arms grabbed, you just have to relax and just get it back.  I exited the water in 1:16 something, and headed up to T1.  I don’t want to overstate the obvious, but with a narrow beach start and with so many swimmers, best to set up further away from the buoys, and wait for the initial mad crush to subside if you’re not an experienced swimmer.

Up at T1 I had a little scare.  As I lay on my back to get my wet suit pulled off, I quickly arose and suffered a nice hamstring cramp.  After hopping in circles a bit, rubbing it furiously, I got reoriented and gathered up my bike bag.  I didn’t feel too numb as I dressed.  After a quick nature call at a really conveniently placed potty house, I got my bike and headed out to “BIKE OUT” mounting area.  With a nice sunny day, knee high socks, full sleeved form fitted shirt, and sporty Forward Motion tri top and bike shorts, I was dialed in.  Time to thaw!  I slung my leg over to mount the bike and, Wham!  Bike slips from my grip and onto the ground.  Water bottles grounded, water practically completely splashed out of the Profile Design aero water bottle – full mess!  I was way colder than I thought because I didn’t either feel the bike slip out, nor did I feel it as I picked it up.  The hands just kind of worked – maybe just due to rote memory.  I finally gathered up, and off I went.

Wetsuit in one Hand – Hamstring in the Other

The first part of the first loop was a freezy blur. Upon reaching the first climb, I realized that my back wheel felt “grabby” as the back skewer wasn’t fully tight. After a quick fix, I was fine. I finished the first loop in about 2:50. Along the way into the second loop, my quads never did loosen up – just achy. And since my derailleur wouldn’t shift to my lowest gear, I spun out quite often on the descents, and left a few MPH’s out on the course. I finished the bike in about 5:47 and change, and noted that the direction of the wind changed yet again. I got to T2 fine, and with the temperatures climbing into the mid-70’s, and another quick pit stop, I headed out on the run.

Out on the Bike Course

 On the Run Course

I felt really okay at the start.  I turned the first 10K in the low 50 minutes, and I think the first 13 miles in the low one hour and 50 something minutes.  And to that point, no real knee pain from the fracture to mention.  I ate and drank as much as I felt I could for the second half-marathon, but couldn’t sustain my initial pace.  I was asked later if I had any knee pain – not really just the knee, just the overall leg weariness one feels when you’ve been dragging a piano.  With the temperatures climbing throughout the day, I ended up doing the marathon in 4 hours 6 minutes and change.  Overall my time was 11:25.

COOL – SO ANY OTHER STUFF?

Some observations – this-n-that:

Coeur D’Alene is beautiful, and the people I encountered were genuine.  Those that volunteered were so supportive and helpful.  And it wasn’t that the only people who volunteered were triathlon aficionados.  There were many volunteers who looked like they hadn’t put down the remote control in a long time, yet they were all out there.  They left their mark in a positive way.  The race directors have the logistics down.  If you have to drive to the venue, departure routes are easily accessible and traffic flows clear.

They have some really cool run aide stations with interesting themes – the “Pirates of the Caribbean” was especially cool.  You have to see them to believe it.  Running though the neighborhoods was a blast.  Water sprayers and misters, ice, music, and tons of encouraging shouts.  If you didn’t HAVE to walk, you surely didn’t want to walk there.

The last 1/3 mile to the finish line screams for a special shout out.  The racer makes a final left turn from a quiet corner onto the final straight away and finish line structure comes into view.  From the din of that quiet side street the cheering begins, and halfway to the end and with a couple blocks to go you’re enveloped a mass of roaring and shouts.  Young kids looking to slap palms, and the portable stands spilling over with excited spectators.  Now you can’t help it – the energy level picks up.  You stride long, stick out your chest out and finish strong – soaking it all in.  It’s then that you remember what you went through the whole day.  Now, you have a place – it’s in the books, in Ironman Coeur D’Alene 2011, and indeed, “You Are an Ironman!”

AND?

As they say – what really matters is the people you meet along the way.  Our house mates were fantastic.  We met Eric Glaus and his wife Wendy, both from Hawaii.  Eric’s mother and father, his sister, brother-in-law-, and their son, Patrick joined in.  Their friends from Hawaii, Jeff White and Armando Espinoza – who also raced.  Jeff gets special recognition.  He came in with a painful hamstring problem, and ended up having to walk the run leg – in 8 hours, and finishing at 10PM – but he finished what he started.

Coeur d’Alene Housemates

It appears we have a place to stay if we race Honu 70.3, and they equally have a place when they race Vineman 70.3 here.

The Racers Left Their Mark

And of course, Janet Tsuji was “Sherpa to All” extraordinaire.  She accompanied us from race morning to the finish, and offered a countless supply of encouragement and selfless support. It’s one of the toughest jobs, but she never lost her smile.

It proved once again that for the fortunate few, the experience, and the memories of Ironman will last a lifetime.