IRONMAN Zurich, Switzerland
“It’s difficult to explain to someone who hasn’t yet found their calling, that when you dedicate your every minute to something, it becomes your everything.”
For a long time, I had a Post-it note on my wall at home which simply read 140.6, the idea being that I would see that number so much that eventually it would seem normal and it wouldn’t seem as daunting, or as significant. 140.6 miles is all it takes to become an Ironman. 140.6 miles is just the tip of the iceberg.
I’ve always been fascinated with how far the human body can be pushed and what it can achieve when really tested. For me, Ironman triathlon has always been a true examination of one’s strength, will and mentality. Until 2012 when I first watched one in South Africa, I hadn’t experienced the magnitude of what’s involved, both the scale of the event and the awesome task at hand for the athletes. Since then, becoming an Ironman has been a firm fixture at the top of my to do list.
I signed up for IRONMAN Zurich Switzerland in November, giving me nearly 9 months till race day at the end of July 2017. I’m in the fortunate position whereby I have always been into sport since I was a kid and so have a fairly decent standard of fitness. Exercise has always been a regular thing for me so my base level going into Ironman training was pretty good. I took the first few months fairly easily before taking on a coach in the name of GB athlete Tim George. I brought Tim on board to give my training more structure, get expertise on the process and to save me worrying about whether what I was doing was correct. Tim’s guidance was invaluable and a huge factor in getting to that finish line.
Three or four months out, training really started to intensify, with 14–16 hour training weeks being a common affair. Each week normally consisted of 3 or 4 runs, 2 swims and 2 bike rides and one rest day. Each session had a purpose and a structure, ensuring there were tempo, race pace, easy pace and speed aspects to everything I did. I also booked in 5 normal races in the lead-up to get all the race practice I could.
Training for Ironman is a solitary way to spend your time. Hours and hours spent alone on the bike, swimming length after length in the pool or pacing the road. A few times, I had 4x1000m sessions in a 25m pool. That is 160 lengths, plus a warm up, going back and forth, seeing people come and go! It’s a lot of time to think about what you’re doing, reflect on how far you’ve come and, to be honest, some pretty weird shit too. It’s all worth it, though!
Come race week, despite feeling in good shape, the nerves and doubts had started to take hold. I’ve done enough races now to know this is normal, just going through the motions, but something about flying out to Zurich solo with all my kit, intensified the apprehension. I flew out 4 days before race day and stayed at a youth hostel not far from the event site. I was there so early in fact, that when I did a 7km run after landing, the event site hadn’t even been completed. Nothing says keeno like getting there before the organisers do! Still, it was worth it. I spent the days leading up to race day prepping my kit, making sure the bike was working properly and eating everything I could get my hands on. I actually did a short bike recce up the infamous Heartbreak Hill which I would tackle twice on the 180km bike leg come race day.
During the week, more athletes started arriving at the hostel and I met Corey, an American graduate with a pro-looking Cervelo P5, which I was very envious of! I also met James Drapac from Australia, who actually turned out to be a Drapac of the Cannondale Drapac pro cycling team, which was pretty cool. A couple days before the race, we did an early morning swim in Lake Zurich to get a taste for the water. Despite the mountainous rain, the lake was absolutely stunning and crystal clear. After that, I just had one small 4km pre-race run to do on the Saturday; after that it was all about eating lots and stretching before the early start on Sunday.
Saturday was also the day my family and a group of friends arrived, which was a very welcome relief after spending a few days on my own getting stressed! Having their support on race day would later prove to be absolutely priceless. After they had arrived, I checked in my bike with my swim and bike bags before heading back to the hostel to pretty much just lie there until 4am thinking about what was coming. The night before a race is never filled with a deep sleep. The night before an Ironman was no different. Constantly thinking whether I had done enough, did I have enough food for the race, what if this happens, what if that happens?
At that point, what’s done is done, you can’t affect what you can’t change. Relax, believe in the process. Believe in your training, your process goals for the race. Believe in yourself.
The 4am alarm went off without needing to, as I was already awake. I’m quite superstitious when it comes to race mornings. Therefore, I went about my morning just as I would for a normal race. Normal shower, eat breakfast as I would normally, stretch, foam roller, lots of water. Don’t break routine.
I strolled down to the event site about at just after 5:30am, went to check on the bike, check the tyres, load it up with food and fluid before meeting up again with friends and family and watching the most incredible red sunrise over the mountains behind the lake. At about 7:15ish, my wetsuit was on and I followed the nearly 2,000 athletes to the swim start. I went for a quick warm up swim before saying goodbye to everyone and getting into the 70–80min pen for the 3.8km swim. Ironman Switzerland do a rolling swim start rather than a mass free-for-all which made things a little easier. At 07:40 the iconic Ironman cannon boomed and the pro men were off shortly before the pro women. Once they had gone, it was race time and I started to make my way towards the water’s edge. Deep breath, believe in the process. Deep breath, remember what it’s taken to get here. Deep breath, remember why you are doing this.
Calm. I’ve been in many races where the start is utter chaos. A scene of splashing, white water, being punched and kicked in the face is not uncommon in a triathlon. This was very different and I was already a big fan of the rolling start. It gave me time to settle into my stroke and calm my breathing and heart rate. The water was a perfect temperature and crystal clear. Swimming above the fish, the water got deeper as we headed further out before turning left towards the city.
I’ve always felt quite at home in the water, probably due to my parents getting me swimming when I was 3 months old. Training for Ironman has really got me back into it and it turned out to be some of my more enjoyable training sessions so, luckily, I was able to relax into a rhythm and almost go into a meditative state, stroke by stroke. After making two right hand turns, we started swimming east, along a section which lasted about 1.5km. At one point, I actually saw a guy taking on a gel; never seen that before. You know you’re in for a long day out when you see a dude taking on a gel during the swim!
Coming around the final left-hand turn, I could see the giant yellow banner signifying the swim exit. I felt good and was able to up the pace a little for the final few hundred metres before being hauled out of the water by the volunteers. I had a short run from the swim exit over a little bridge and was really pleased to find a bunch of volunteers, ready to help strip athletes from their wetsuits. It was also the first time I saw friends from home in the crowd, their cheering, really got me buzzed for the bike leg coming up.
Swim Split — 1:09:47
I grabbed my bike bag and headed into the changing tent for a slightly longer than usual transition, which included chowing down on a couple of muffins. Not sure if this would have been under coaches’ orders, but felt like I wanted to eat something normal before getting stuck into gels and energy bars. Out of transition, I hopped on the bike and got down some drink before settling in for the 180 km bike ride.
The two laps of 90km started around the lake, before heading up into the stunning Swiss countryside. The course was absolutely incredible, the beauty of the surroundings actually helped detract from the effort required to complete each lap. The lush green fields were bordered by amazing snowy mountains in the background. A seriously stunning ride.
The first lap went by like an absolute dream. I was pretty much smiling the whole way round, still not quite believing I was doing an Ironman, talking to other athletes and waving to the amazing crowds of support. For some reason, however, my Garmin had decided to reset itself so I had to re-pair my heart rate monitor and speed/cadence monitors on the go. Once that little issue was sorted, I stuck to my HR zones to make sure I was pacing myself correctly. At about 50km, in came The Beast, the first serious challenge of the ride. It’s a little over 2km long with an average gradient of 7%, so a case of head down and just grinding it out. Still feeling relatively fresh, I got over it without a problem, before cracking on with the rest of the lap.
Right at the end of the lap, came what Ironman Switzerland was most famous for, and probably my most memorable part of the whole event, the iconic Heartbreak Hill. While it’s only short, it is a steep climb which meanders its way up from beside the lake to the the spectacular views from the top. The climb was absolutely covered in spectators cheering athletes up the climb. With supportive messages written all over the road and the crowd parting as they cheered you on with flags and banners, it was a true Tour de France moment. Seeing my family and friends dotted around at different spots on the climb had me smiling the whole way up, the support made it feel like it wasn’t even a hill. So much so, that a photo of me smiling my way up has ended up on the Ironman Switzerland 2018 homepage. It was an amazing experience.
After Heartbreak Hill, I headed back down, past the event site and began the second 90km lap. The first 35km or so was completely flat, which sounds great but, after a period of putting out constant effort, I was looking forward to a change to come in the shape of some rolling hills. Once they came, however, I wished I was back on the flats. By the time I headed away from the lake and up into the countryside again, the temperature was really picking up, easily reaching 30 degrees which made for a very tough second lap. The ease at which I flew up The Beast the first time was a far cry from my second lap; I am sure it had got about 3 times as long. Each of the climbs on the bike were without shade, making each kilometre that bit tougher. I sensed the dreaded feeling of a “bonk” coming on, so took on some extra fluid and fuel on my way up The Beast, finally making it to the top a lot more exhausted than I was the first time.
The remaining part of the bike was just about saving myself for the run. Reserving energy and making sure I was fuelled for the run. This meant keeping a steady heart rate and smashing through some Clif Bars! The second time up Heartbreak Hill, my quads began to cramp a little and without the crowds being quite as large as the first time round, it certainly took a bit more effort to get to the top. Once I was there, however, that was the bike done. A quick descent back into town and I was into transition.
Bike Split — 6:27:51
After racking up the bike, I ran into one of the changing tents and began to get my things together. Before long, I looked up and realised that I had actually run into the female changing tent — I didn’t know that there were male/female tents! I stuffed my muffin in my mouth and made a swift exit for the gents tent!
Once I was sorted, I headed out and saw my supporters from home right on the transition exit. After a very quick hello, I was off on the move again and about to start the 4 lap marathon run course.
Moving in a different way actually came as a pleasant surprise. It was nice to get my muscles moving differently and to also not have to worry about any mechanicals stopping my progress. From now on, it was just my body I needed to worry about. The run course looped around the lake and into the old sections of the city centre. You could really get a sense of the scale of the event, Ironman took over the entire city, with hundreds of people lining most of the run route.
The first lap went by pretty well, I was sticking to my strategy of running the 2–3km between the aid stations and walking through each one to pick up fuel. The aid stations themselves were amazingly well stocked. Everything you could need from water, energy drinks and gels, Red Bull, Coke, even soup and a huge amount of food. They also had soaking wet cold sponges which provided an amazing relief from the unforgiving Zurich heat. By the closing stages of the second lap, however, fatigue started to show its face. The sections between aid stations were starting to feel longer and I could feel my body really starting to suffer. It wasn’t so much an aching of the muscles, more a feeling of exhaustion. Feeling your body starting to struggle, I could even feel the weight I had lost during the race.
By the time the third lap came around, I was fully in the pain cave. I was prepared for this mentally at least. Months before the race, I knew this section would be the hardest part of the race. That 3rd lap, kilometre 20–30, was going to be the difference as to whether I could call myself an Ironman or not. Walking parts of the marathon in an Ironman is not an uncommon occurrence, thankfully, and I walked a fair chunk of that 3rd lap, my splits were up in the high 9 minute kilometres. All I could think of was having to complete yet another lap. With each lap that passes, the volunteers give you a coloured band to wear on your arm. Once you had all 4 colours you were free to hit that finishing chute. At this point I still had the two and I was cursing everyone I saw with that magic 3rd band, knowing they were on their last lap.
The run is a pure test of mental resilience. The body is in full shutdown mode, so it’s your mind that has to drag you to the end. Seeing friends and family on that third lap was an absolute godsend. Stopping to speak to my brother, Andy, a couple times, I was fighting hard to hold back the tears. The emotion of nearing the finish line was beginning to show. He kept saying all the hard bit’s done now, just keep moving to the end. It is crazy how much the support of spectators can help. There were some areas of the run which were quite remote, with not many watching. In those spots, it was just about digging deep and pushing on till the next aid station where you could lap up the support and fuel. After a long and testing third lap, I finally picked up that 3rd coloured band and passed the finishing chute, to start the 4th and final lap.
Despite my exhaustion, I found a second wind during the last lap. Knowing that I was now on my way to the finish line gave me all the motivation I needed. The aches and pains were extinguished by pure adrenaline. I picked up the pace and my splits were down to somewhere near 5:45/km which, at that point in the race, I was very happy with. I kept thinking this is the last time I come to this aid station, the last time I pass this point and that point.
Within the last kilometre, you could hear the sound of the music and the announcer at the finish line. I could feel my stomach come alive with butterflies of excitement. About 500m out I collected my final coloured band, the one that would let me turn left onto the red carpet. I entered the event site, running alongside the finishing chute, before turning at the end to make my way to the finish. The atmosphere was unbelievable, hundreds of people cheering, lights, music, it was electric! I passed my friends who were lined up on the finishing chute, high fiving them as I went past. I tried to slow up so I could take it all in, but it seemed to go so quickly. This was the moment I had visualised for months on so many training runs. During long runs in the rain back home, I would imagine this very moment, what it would feel like.
As I went over the finishing line, I heard the words I had been wanting to hear for years, ‘Iain from Great Britain, you are an Ironman!’ From there it was a mixture of pure elation and relief and I’m not ashamed to say I shed a few tears! I picked up my medal and walked over to meet my family and friends. I couldn’t believe I had finally done it. All the months and miles of training had finally all been worth it, I could finally call myself an Ironman. After a few hugs, I went off to the athlete garden for a quick shower. I’d lost so much weight that my heart rate monitor just fell off me! The garden that Ironman setup was fantastic, jacuzzis, a bar, massage tents, anything you could want. Despite being super hungry, it actually took a while to get a burger and chips down me, I don’t think my body knew what was going on!
Run Split — 5:44:54
Total time — 13:40:41
I loved every part of the day, even the parts that hurt. It’s those moments which can push you even harder. Looking back, it was almost the perfect race. I had had no mechanicals on the bike, had stuck as much as I could to my nutrition plan and process goals and was mentally prepared to push myself through that third lap on the run. The only thing I would change would be an increase in salt intake. A lack of salt absorption, especially in that heat, meant I didn’t quite get the electrolyte quantities right which led to the cramp. So, next time, I’ll probably take a bit more salt on board. It wasn’t quite the time I was aiming for, but that really was only a secondary goal behind just completing. As my first full distance triathlon, getting across that line was the number one priority.
What you see on race day, really is just the tip of what goes into an endurance race. I write with no exaggeration that the dedication needed to get to that magic red carpet is absolute. Training completely dictates everything you do. It affects what and when you eat, how you sleep, affects your work hours, relationships, it’s pretty much all you think about. Sacrificing seeing loved ones in order to spend hours alone on the bike, on the road or in the pool becomes a regular occurrence.
I have a lot of people to thank for their support. Without that, this would have been even harder, or even impossible. Your patience and understanding when I haven’t been around has meant everything to me. For those who stuck around, made it out to Zurich and also in the weeks after the race, your unwavering support has been priceless.
Big thanks also go to my sponsors, Croud and Thryve. Your support has been amazing, it would have been seriously tough to do this without your kind generosity.
Anyone that knows me, knows that I love an adventure and a challenge. I don’t think however, I’ve ever completely dedicated myself to a challenge like I have done for Ironman. Despite it taking over my life in not always a positive way, I really enjoyed the journey. Seeing myself improve and physically seeing changes in my body was fascinating. I’ve begun to see my body as a tool, just a vessel to strengthen and test. All the pain, all the sacrifices, they are all worth it. With a couple of Ironman 70.3 races already inked in for next year, this certainly isn’t the end of my Ironman journey.
I can’t wait!
