Ironman Japan - Run

Of course it is a bit disconcerting when on the first few steps of running a marathon your legs buckle beneath you and you almost fall on your face. As I changed my shoes in the transition tent I had tried to psyche myself up saying 'OK Jay -- it is showtime - you are in your element now'. Then when I burst out of the transition area, the impact of 7 hours on the bicycle caused my muscles to lock up. Fortunately within a few kilometers I was running just under 5-minute pace.

From the very start of the run all the way to about 35 kilometers I consistently ran for 5 minutes then walked for 20-seconds. Only once (in a 30k workout) had I previously attempted this run/walk tactic, but it proved extremely effective. Mentally it was helpful to break the long run into smaller chunks and tell myself 'OK one more minute and you can walk.' Physically I realized a boost of energy almost every time I came off my walk intervals. In fact if I had to do the event over I would include another walk interval in the last 7 kilometers. The biggest challenge of this tactic was seeing the shock and dismay of spectators and my fellow participants. They were particularly shocked since I was running faster than the other triathletes around me so people were encouraging and cheering me on and they seemed so surprised when suddenly I would slow down and walk. One other runner implored me "Keep your pace, keep your pace, you can do it" and one group of women who had been jumping up and down cheering for me seemed almost angry when I suddenly started walking right as I passed by them. "Doshita? Fighto, Fighto (what the heck is the matter with you?)"

Aid stations at Ironman Japan were plentiful - maybe every 2 kilometers. And I took food and drink at almost all of them. It was amazing how much I ate -- muffins, bananas, fig newtons, orange slices, Ritz crackers, chocolate... More amazing was the quantity of Coca-cola I drank. Coke after coke after coke after coke. How on earth could my stomach possibly tolerate all this coke? Especially after all the ocean water I had swallowed during the swim followed by 4 Power Bars, 6 gels and countless bananas on the bike. I kept thinking I should probably cut back on my cola consumption, but as I approached the aid station the craving for coke became so strong - on several occasions I even grabbed one cup at the start of the aid station, drank it, then grabbed a cup of water and second coke at the end of the aid station.

I felt fine through the first 17-kilometers then struggled until the halfway mark. When I started the course's second loop I felt a psychological boost knowing I was on the final leg (or maybe the boost was just all the caffeine kicking in...) My plan was to pick up the pace at 35k. My plans prior to the Ironman were extremely vague - I had absolutely no idea how I might feel and what pace I should run. Nonetheless I somehow did pick up the pace to about 4:15 per kilometer at the 35k mark as well as abandon the 20-second walk intervals and cease stopping in for treats at the aid stations.

I have done a fair number of endurance events over the years and have developed a pretty good sense for expending just the right amount of energy to make it across finish the line. Somehow last Sunday I miscalculated. Maybe it was being sent on a 500-meter wrong way repeat loop at the 40k mark, maybe I stopped walking too soon, maybe I stopped eating too soon, or maybe the whole 12 hours of swimming and biking and running were going to take a final shot at me no matter what..

As I speeded up over the final few kilometers I could feel my energy draining, but I had hopes of breaking 3:30. I kept felt a bit weaker at 40k, then much weaker at 41k. I could see the castle walls where the Ironman finishes - less than 800 meters to go. And then the lights started to dim.. I saw stars and squiggly lines shooting across my field of vision. I staggered and begun to weave a bit and I have a fuzzy memory of people asking if I was OK. I reached the gate of the castle and there with less than 300 meters left I started envisioning a repeat of the famous Julie Moss 1982 Ironman finish where she crawled down the final stretch. I calculated that I had some 3 hours to crawl a few hundred meters and still beat the 15-hour cutoff. Inside the castle grounds it seemed incredibly dark, though I could hear music and crowd and see the bright lights of the finish area only a few hundred meters ahead of me and around a corner. I somehow walked to the turn and willed myself to jog down the finish stretch in front of the bleachers filled with cheering spectators. As I shuffled down the final stretch I managed to feebly gave high-fives to all the people expectantly holding their hands outstretched. Volunteers hold up a finish banner for each finisher but I was too weak to even run through it. The medical staff rushed over and carried me to a chair in a tent where Keren and Mitsu came over. Later they described me as being in a "catatonic" state.

Later that evening I would watch hundreds of other people finish Ironman - every last one looking much stronger than me -- much, much stronger. In fact most of these finishers were not just running down the final stretch, but hopping and skipping and doing acrobatic victory dances I stood there propped up against the finishing chute, clapping for the other finishers, celebratory music blaring, my Ironman towel wrapped around my head. It was then that the sense of accomplishment (and relief) began to wash over me, and all the winter rides on the Arakawa, the New Zealand ordeal, the evening Palace runs, the hard swim squad workouts, all became more than worthwhile.