The Story of my First Ironman

Since the last time I wrote one of these, I was prepping for 70.3 Muncie. While that race is a worthy of its own post, the race did not go as well as I had hoped (despite my second fastest bike split ever w/ a drafting penalty) and left me hungry for more. The best part of that race was getting to race with Taylor Ellis and Greg Grosicki (aka GG). After that race, I decided to sign up for my first full distance Ironman in Cambridge, Maryland. This is the story of my first Ironman. (Full Disclosure: this is a LONG post, so for the real meat and potatoes of this post, skip ahead to the third paragraph of the Ironman Maryland section. It's so long and took me so long, I might not graduate on time anymore...)

Always fun to race with your best friends ❤️

The Build Up: A little help from my friends
After Muncie, I took about a week of low key training that included a trip to Chicago to celebrate Taylor's birthday and a trip to Wisconsin for a wedding. After returning home, I jumped into Ironman training pretty quick, instantly increasing my training by about 20%, mostly through increasing my run volume. I had three of my longest training weeks in a row. I was quickly amassing fatigue and I stubbornly ignored it and continued on my quest for increasing volume. I was forgetting some of the goals I had initially set for the season (Doing more by Doing Less) and was just doing all my workouts in this grey area between easy and hard (i.e. Ironman pace); it's that comfort zone that feels good because you're going hard, but easy enough you can continue forever. I continued on this trajectory until the weekend came where I was moving apartments which is always a stressful affair. I remember waking up the morning I was supposed to move and had planned to do my long run and then move. I started along the Charles and felt like shit 💩. Six miles in and nothing changes, so I decided to cut it short and just go home. I can't remember why, but while moving I started texting with GG and realized I hadn't taken a day off since Muncie 70.3 (nearly 6 weeks). He convinced me to take the next day off and focus on moving. Over the course of the next few hours he also convinced me to have him start coaching me for the last 5 weeks leading up to the race.

Greg has constantly reminded me of the value of the recovery and really inspired my "motto" for 2018. Despite this, my stubbornness to increase my volume had gotten in the way of focused and deliberate recovery/training, so with GG's help, in the last 5 weeks leadings up to the race, I think I put in some of the most consistent and effective training all season. This included a weekend trip to Savannah, GA to visit GG and get in some long, hot, hours of training. Savannah is hot... to say the least and we put in the longest sessions of my Ironman build, including a 3hr ride (67mi), followed by 2hr run (16mi). Oh and in case it wasn't weird enough, we have the same birthday, so we celebrated that too 💙

Taking on Georgia roads 📸: Dr. Greg Grosicki

Ironman Maryland
Race day arrived. My dad flew in just for the day to watch me race, Taylor flew in from Indy to drive down and sherpa me throughout race week, and we stayed in a little home stay with fellow Wattie teammate Val. Race morning I felt calm and collected; I knew I had done the work and race day was all about having a good time. I remember entering the swim shoot and hearing Mike Reilly announce 30sec until start. I put my googles on and I started to tear up a little... This had never happened to me before and I think it was a moment of extreme emotion for finally making to the start line of an event I had been striving towards for years. The cannon went off and the Ironman Maryland 2018 began.

The swim the beautiful. It was a 1.75-looped, counter-clockwise rectangular course. Swimming out was the direction of the horizon, but entering the water, the sunrise wasn't that intense yet making sighting a lot easier than expected. The first 500yrds of the course, I was caught behind a group that could not decide which direction they wanted to go and would not let me get by. I decided just to settle in behind them and ease into a comfortable stroke. After the first turn, I had had enough and noticed the buoys were curving toward the center of the course and there was a straight shot to the third turn. I set that as my sight and go away from the group. Starting the second loop, I thought I could be running over a lot of slower swimmers, but found some clearer water by staying further right. After my watch buzzed at 4000yrds, I was ready to get out of the water. I felt comfortable and in control the entire time. I finally made the turn into the swim finish and could not see anyone. I exited the water no problem and made my way into T1.
Swim: 56min

Always looking glamorous coming out of the water

In T1, I quickly zipped up my kit, ate a Stoop Waffle, drank some fluids, shoved a red bull into by back pocket. The bike course took us through town, along a short section of the run course followed by a 12mi out-and-back along a highway. This out-and-back was the only time when you could really see your place. I estimated I was somewhere in the top-10, but that honestly didn't matter to me. I focused on staying at or below my 215W goal. I could hear Greg saying in my head, "Everyone over-bikes. Stick to the plan and you'll be flying by people around 80mi." I knew I needed to drink about 40oz an hour and an additional 200cal on top of that. I had a timer set every 10min to eat a Cliff shot block and tried to gulp down fluids in between. After the out and back, I started the looped portion of the course. Some people were flying by, but I stuck to my plan. After the first loop (~65mi), to my surprise, I saw Taylor and my dad, along with some other spectators! Caught me totally off guard, but really helped bump my spirits, not to say I was feeling down, but 112mi of racing can get a little boring. The last 10mi of each loop was along a stretch of highway with a slight tailwind. This was around mile 95 and I strategically chugged my Red Bull to give me wings during the few miles of the race. After finishing the second and final loop, I made my way back into town and transition. I dismounted the bike where I saw Taylor and Papa Fineman again and made my way into T2.
Bike: 4hrs46min (~215W average)

Flying and smiling through the bike like...

The run. Notoriously, the most challenging part of triathlon for me. This run was no exception for ways I never imagined. I run out of transition and Taylor shouted to me that I was 9th OA and first in my AG by 9min! This was unexpected and thoughts of qualifying for Kona obviously came to me, but I tried to just focus on my own race... About half a mile into my run, my back started to hurt a little bit. Nothing serious, but noticeable. Over the course of the next quarter mile it got worse and I thought to myself that if I kept going it would relax and I would be fine. I was also actively trying to slow down because I knew I was taking it out a little spicy. The first aid station came and I jogged through fairly comfortably. I finally slowed to a pace that I knew I could hold for awhile (7:40-7:50min/mile). The pain, on the other hand, started to worsen with shooting pain down my hamstrings and intermittent spasms. I walked through the second aid station to see if slowing down would ease things a little bit... I was wrong. I kept jogging until mile 2.75 when a spasm slowed me to a crawl. I tried stretch my hamstring, but nearly fell over when my back temporarily gave out and I was afraid of falling and not being able to get back up. I was walking at a sluggish pace. I peeked down at my watch and saw 40min/mi. I tried to ignore it, but emotions can be hard to control in these instances. My dream of KQ'ing was fading and even just the simplest of goals to finish seemed impossible at that particular moment. Each step was probably 2-3in long and every time I attempted to run again a sharp pain that nearly brought me to tears would shoot up my hamstring and spine.

Coming out of T2 and you can already see the pain

Obviously, the thought of dropping out and going to the med tent was there... anything to get me some relief from the pain. I saw someone in an Everyman Jack Kit approaching; it was Nic Grela. I knew who he was because GG mentioned he was coaching him through Maryland as well. I heard him yell, "you Grosicki's friend?" I nodded my head and explained the situation. I can't remember specifically what he said as he flew by me, but I do remember he told me not to quit. This was the first vote that told me not to quit (1 Finish, 0 DNF). I made a left-hand turn toward aid station #3. A race coordinator in a gulf cart stopped next to me and asked if I was ok. She asked if I wanted to pull out, but encouraged me to keep going. She told me the next aid station was about 400m in front of me, so I decided to inch my way towards that and make my DNF decision (2 Finish, 0 DNF). It was at this moment that I remembered two video clips of some of my favorite Ironman pros. The first, was of Jan Frodeno in NBC Kona 2017 recap. He too had back problems during the run and walked nearly the entire marathon, but still finished. The second was a recent clip posted by Lionel Sanders following his performance at Ironman Mt. Tremblant. There was one particular quote that echoed in my mind, "It would have been disrespectful to my fellow competitors to quit." Despite the negative thoughts in my mind, the pain shooting down my spine, and the heat of the sun, I knew quitting was never an option. Perhaps, I did not vocalize or actively hear the little voice in my head say that, but looking back, I do not have a memory where I seriously considered quitting. If these two pros could walk the marathon, why couldn't I? While that official in a golf cart was the first real test where I could easily pull out of the race, it was the first of many.

I finally made it to the third aid station. I cannot thank the volunteers, in particular from this aid station enough. They all told me to keep going, one volunteer pointed out that the next section was just an out and back straight back to that aid station, so all I had to do was make it back there. Another point out that I had over 10hrs before the cutoff time and I could easily walk the whole marathon by then (4 Finish, 0 DNF). I kept going and one volunteer even walked with me for the entire out and back (~1mi, 30ish min) while carrying a gallon of water. He kept telling me to drink, but it just didn't sound good to me. We chatted about triathlon. what we did for our real jobs, etc. We made it back to the aid station, all the volunteers cheered for me despite my extremely slow pace. It was at this point that I saw Taylor sprinting towards me along the course. I saw her and felt my eyes fill up with tears because I felt like I was disappointing her and I knew I couldn't hug or touch her without risking disqualification. She was on the phone with GG and I gave them the run down (pen intended) of what was going on. They almost simultaneously said, "FUCK." Taylor started reading me messages from other friends and teammates who were cheering via the app. Some told me to just quit and do IM Florida or Louisville or Cozumel. Others told me not to quit. It was pretty split (24 Finish, 22 DNF), and Taylor and GG both told me they would still love me no matter what I decided. So I kept going, thinking to myself, "Just make it one more mile maybe the pain will go away," but that never happened. The pain and spasms were unrelenting. I kept asking people at aid station for ibuprofen, but they were forbidden from handing it out. Taylor walked with me this entire time and texted my dad if he had any Advil (same thing as ibuprofen). He did and started making his way towards us. Around mile 6.5, about 2.5 hours after starting the marathon, I saw my dad a few hundred yards up the course. I could see concern in his eyes because me getting injured was always his greatest fear. He even said right after I signed up for Maryland and decided to come, "Just don't go hurting yourself ok?" As I passed him and gave him a high five, he said, "Stone ledge." Up ahead, there way a stone wall about 2ft above the ground and I could see on top three blue Advil tablets. I stopped next to it, pretended to stretch and bent down to grab them. This also served as a test to see if I could bend down... It was perhaps the hardest point of the race so far. Taylor and my dad laughed as they saw me attempt to bend down 2ft and grab the Advil. I popped them in my mouth and kept going. Around mile 7, I decided to pee. This entire time, both Taylor and my dad now were walking with me. There was a cute dog on the side of the road and Taylor stopped to pet it, but I kept inching forward, determine to keep going as I could feel myself speeding up and the anti-inflammatory drugs start to relieve some of my pain. I didn't see anyone I knew until mile 9 again. Bear in mind, this entire time (mile 2.5-9), countless people were passing me - people I had seen and passed on the bike, on their second and third run loops and people I had never seen before. At the same time, spectators were cheering for me to keep going. The words from spectators who didn't really know what was wrong with me just burned in my ears, almost feeling like a constant reminder that I had failed at executing my plan. At this point, I knew the goal was just to finish before midnight and I kept thinking of what pros Jan and Lionel had done and said. I can honestly say that their actions played a pivotal role in inspiring me to keep going (26 Finish, 22 DNF).

A little after mile 9, I saw Taylor again. She got a phone call from her friend Julie and put it one speaker phone. While she is the nicest person ever, her thick midwest accent and words still haunt me to this day. She told Taylor to calculate how long it would take me to finish at this pace because she didn't think I would make the cut off. I remember getting really pissed. Taylor stopped to chat more and I kept going. There was another aid station ahead followed by another 100m out and back. At the aid station, I drank some coke, and charged to the turn-around point. I realized I had forgetting about the pain in my back, so after turning around, I gave running another shot. It felt ok. My back hurt, but I could run somewhat comfortably. I got to the aid station again, filled my handheld with water and salt, and then locked eyes with Taylor again. I didn't say it, but in my eyes I tried to tell her, "I'm going for it." I started to run again and she started cheering! I yelled back, "I need more Advil!" My dad was down the road and I could his hand reaching out with two Advil. I "high-fived" him, grabbed the Advil, and popped them in my mouth. I started to lightly jog (~8:30min/mile). Slow, but at least I would finish before midnight! I walked through each aid station to make sure I got my nutrition and more fluids. The miles started to slowly go by with my back constantly on the edge of giving out. Each aid station cheered me on, recognizing me from earlier became I was walking and now running! Around mile 16, I saw my teammate Val, who was actually on mile 23.5. She was struggling, so I walked with her for a bit. Then we started running and she told me to go ahead. I looked down at my watch and I was running 7:30min/mile pace! Mile 18 and I saw Papa Fineman and Taylor again. They yelled and screamed, but I grunted back, "MORE ADVIL." I ran through the open and back and gave my dad another Advil-Five. I only had ~5miles left and I find it hard to remember what happened beyond the idea that I was actually going to finish this thing. I saw my dad, but not Taylor again at mile 25.5 and I tossed him my water bottle (who wants that in their finisher pics?). There was a slight downhill leading into the finishers shoot. I felt an extra shot of adrenaline and sprinted down the hill, up the finishers shoot, and finally heard the words everyone doing these races loves to hear, "Richard, YOU. ARE. AN. IRONMAN!" I had finished my first ever full distance Ironman.

Run: 5hrs55min (more than %50 of my race)

Finish line feels

Final Thoughts
This race by no means went as planned. It took me a solid week to comfortably bend over and do activities of daily living. I have had about 3weeks now to recovery and reflect. Despite not going as planned, I would not replace it with any other result. Sure, qualifying for Kona would have been great, but the way I finished this race really showed how much I have grown as an athlete, but more importantly as a person. I think this was made evident to me by a conversation I had with Taylor and GG a few days after the race. He said he told Taylor during the race, "Richard can't quit. He was in a dark place when I first met him and not finishing this would put him right back there." It's true. about 18months ago, I was in my darkest place... grad school was really torturing me and I felt miserable in all aspects of life. I knew I needed a change and this was around when Greg moved to Boston and I started making more and more friends in the triathlon world. In the Fall of 2017, I got accepted onto Team Wattie Ink, met Taylor, and things have been on an upward trajectory ever since. 18 moths ago, I would have quit and sent myself into a pit of despair and self-pity, but in September 2018, I finished the race and came out of it with a very positive outlook. I think the biggest change has been to just focus on happiness. I think happiness is a fairly simple concept, but so much time is spent focusing on the negative that people often forget about it. I have so many people to thank for getting me to where I am today: my girlfriend Taylor, my friend and coach Greg Grosicki, Boston training buddies Cory Robinson and Mike, my dad, my mom, my sister, my brother, Liz Waterstraat, my PI Leia Stirling, and last but not least, my Wattie Ink Teammates. I have received a lot of love and support since the race and I thank everyone for that. For now I have been focusing my wrapping up my thesis, relaxing a little, and cheering on friends who competed in Kona. This was my first of probably many Ironman events; I'm coming back in 2019 with redemption in mind...