Ironman Cozumel, first DNF
I’ll start this by saying that this was a hard race report to write. I debated writing it, but feel it will be valuable for others to learn and to document my own mistakes so I don’t repeat them… Everything about 2019 racing had been excellent, so I had no reason but to expect anything less in this race. I had PR’ed every single distance I had raced and thought that doing it for the Ironman distance would be no different. How I was sorely mistaken….
Pre-Race
My husband and I flew into Cozumel the Thursday before the Sunday race, travel was fairly smooth and without issue. When we left Kentucky it had been damp and cold, and upon arriving to Cozumel I immediately noticed the markedly different hot, humid air. We rented a car and drove to the hotel situated right on the beautiful pristine ocean. The island was small and quaint, and the hotel was lovely providing everything we needed and more.
We made a few last stops to the Mexican grocery store behind our hotel for water/gatorade, special needs items etc the day before the race, as well as dropping the bikes/bags off at transition. This race was a two transition event, meaning we did have to make sure everything was in the right place. The bike drop had the largest transition area I’ve ever seen at an Ironman event, and gave each participant more than enough room for their bike. The rest of the day was otherwise uneventful as we tried to stay off our feet and get some sleep— always a challenge for me the night before a race.
Before we knew it race day had arrived. It was a warm and dark morning as we ubered to the start with one other anxious participant also staying at our hotel. I walked to my bike where I had left it the night before and double checked my tires, filled my water and made sure my nutrition was all set to go on my bike. I was using primarily Clif Bloks- something I had done in most races this season, though not planning through my nutritional plan as well as I should have would prove to haunt me later in this race…
My husband Kit and I headed to the swim start on the shuttle buses after checking through our T1 gear. We were among the first to arrive because we’ve been burned by shuttle buses running late in past races. We had nearly an hour til race start when we arrived in the swim corrals. Swimming is certainly not my strength, as I did not grow up swimming, but I have made significant improvements over the course of this past year— all that to say I wasn’t sure where to seed myself in this non-wet suit legal Ironman swim. My husband urged me to start with him in the sub 1hr corral, which I felt was aggressively fast, but I ended up opting to try it and I’m glad I did.
The day prior to the race, Kit and I had purchased cheap swim floats for the purpose of lounging on the pavement to stay off our feet prior to the start. I thought he was kind of ridiculous at the time for wanting to get these, but as I usually do, I went along with it. Turns out this was one of the best ideas he’s had in a while and I will 100% do this again. We were not only comfortable, we were also the source of much laughter and conversations. My husband even made an appearance on Triathlete.com in a photo lounging on the float!
The Swim
As I stated above, starting with the sub 1hr group made me nervous. I had thought that I could swim likely 1:10ish, but was unsure if I could really go much faster and did not want to be constantly swam over. In retrospect, I should have just relaxed a little and had more confidence in my abilities. As soon as we jumped in the water all my pre-race anxieties and fears seemed to disappear. This swim was gorgeous. The water was beautiful, perfect temperature, and there were fish everywhere! I felt perfectly comfortable throughout the whole swim, and while a few people passed me, I felt very comfortable in the packs I swam with. I found several set of feet to draft and just zoned out taking in all the scenery. The only negative I will say about this swim is that there were several small jelly fish--- and I sustained several stings throughout the race. I would say this was a common complaint among other racers, and none of the stings were too severe, but they were annoying and slightly painful...
T1
I was definitely on a high coming out of the water going into T1 seeing my time and feeling like my effort was extremely comfortable. Immediately on getting my T1 bag I grabbed a honey stinger waffle and ate most of it while running into the changing tent. I moved through T1 relatively quickly and had no major issues.
The Bike
Things started well. Very well in fact. I had been warned about this course, and also had driven this course with Kit in the days prior to the race as the island is not that big. The bike course essentially traverses the whole island three times, and goes along the ocean the majority of the time. It is flat, but it is also exposed and very windy. Now some of this is tailwind, some cross and some headwind. It’s important to be aware of this as while things may feel easy it may be directly influenced by how the wind is blowing. Race day for us was lucky in the sense that the wind was fairly low in comparison to what it can be, however it was still around.
I felt awesome on the first loop. It was still early so wind/heat was not much of a factor at all. I went through the first lap (30ish miles) at >22mph. Everything felt good, I was staying on top of nutrition at this point of 1 blok per 5 miles. In retrospect I was not drinking enough, but I felt good.
Second loop continued to feel pretty good and while I slowed a bit into the now more significant head/cross wind, I was still holding a very good clip of >20 miles through about 70 miles. Thoughts were already going through my head that this could be a PR day— but oh how quickly things can change in an Ironman and it was much too early in this race for me to count on anything like a PR.
It was around mile 80 when things started to go south. I started to feel some GI distress and getting nutrition was becoming a significant issue. Basically, I just stopped being able to tolerate nutrition due to nausea/cramping and just overall feeling terrible. I knew this would be a big problem but I attempted to fight through it as I was already very deep into the bike course. It then began to seem that once one thing went wrong, several things went wrong. I had been doing a very good job of holding aero position on this very flat course, aside from a few heavy cross-wind sections. However once I started feeling bad around mile 80, I had significant issues holding aero due to neck/back cramps and just fatigue/discomfort. It was frustrating to just stand up on the horns into the wind at this point because I could see my pace significantly slow, though there was little I could do.
I continued to push through and was hoping things would feel better. Unfortunately they did not. I played mental games and told myself all my issues would get better once I got off the bike. In some ways I truly believed that, spending close to 6h on a bike is not comfortable and things fatigue. But deep down I already knew at this point that things were going very, very wrong…
While my splits slowed considerably the last 30 miles, it was overall still a solid bike. I ended up 6:13 averaging 18mph for the 112 miles. Another Ironman PR.
T2
In retrospect this is the place I should have quit. I was so relieved to get off my bike but felt miserable. I remember walking into the changing tent and just sitting down in a chair, not wanting to get up. I was already slightly disoriented at this point and likely already into the depths of heat stroke/dehydration. A very nice volunteer handed me water, sponges, helped me with sunscreen as I slowly changed into my running gear. I ended up walking out of transition without my hat, bib/belt or sunglasses— a true sign that my mind was not in the right place. I had enough sense to walk back into transition to get these things before continuing out on my run (walk).
The Death March/Run
I can still remember all the people standing outside of T2 cheering me on to run, me attempting to run, and having to walk within seconds due to dizziness and extreme nausea. That was definitely the first indication that this run was not going to go well. But even still, I had no doubt in my mind that I would finish this race, quitting was not an option I entertained or even considered.
Being now removed from this situation, I really have no idea how I got as far into this run as I did. I did find a walking partner who I think was responsible for getting me through a significant portion— shout out to Michelle from Texas who helped me through many hot and miserable miles. We stayed together and opted to try to run for 30 seconds at a time— to the aid stations or to random signs in the road— and then chatted the miles away about anything and everything random. I tried to get down as much nutrition as I could at this point, as I knew I was behind, but unfortunately not much was agreeing with me. The miles were clicking off extremely slowly— due to mostly walking we were mostly hitting 15-16 min miles. The fact that this wasn’t bothering me at the time should have been a big red flag (after all I was probably targeting somewhere near a 4-4.5h marathon), but I knew I really had nothing left to give.
At one point during our walking, Michelle and I encountered another new race friend I had met and chatted with at the swim start. He looked strong and we chatted for a bit. Big mistake— when I elected to pick up the pace with him and try to run. This was probably about 11 miles into the run. I did stay with him for close to a mile, but after this point I was beyond repair. The sun was beating down, I was becoming more and more nauseous and I could barely tolerate nutrition. It was at this point that I was coming around to the fact that I may not finish this race.
The run course was two loops, and at this point in the race I was close to the finish/second loop. A little disheartening to know I had 13 more miles to accomplish, especially given the first half marathon had taken me close to 3h, though I was spurred on by the thought that I would probably see my husband Kit at some point given the two loops. Indeed, it was very soon that I saw him running toward me, I could tell he was having a very good race and I didn’t want to slow him down. We talked very briefly and he told me I could quit if I didn’t feel like I could finish. It may sound silly, but it was almost like his permission was all I needed. He went on the a solid PR of almost breaking 11h (11:07), while I went over to the side of the road to regroup and decide if I would battle on or quit.
Sitting down was probably not the greatest idea… I immediately became very dizzy, nauseous and knew that the smart decision was to pull the plug on my race. When I started projectile vomiting a few minutes later, I did have enough sense to make that call. And so I started on my close to one mile death march back to the hotel/finish line (within 1 block of each other thankfully), filled with tears/vomit and pain. My race was over. DNF.
Post-Race Thoughts
The immediate post-race period was a very sad and emotional time— it was equally hard to be happy for my husband who had just PR’ed and to wrap myself around the feeling of what felt like total failure. Physically I wasn’t in a great place, I certainly can say that I was extremely dehydrated, probably had heat stroke and possibly had a GI bug vs didn’t agree with something I ate in the days leading up to the race. With a lot of rest and fluids I luckily did bounce back fairly quickly and avoided making any trips to Mexican hospitals.
After more time away from this race I do not think this was a total failure despite the initial feeling that it was. I'm a believer that things happen for a reason and I'm using this race to teach me some valuable lessons.
---a finisher medal is not worth risking your health so I'm not at all regretting my decision, in fact, I do wonder if I should have quit sooner
—-I’ve learned some lessons regarding nutrition, and learned that I 100% need to be diligent about practicing with the nutrition I plan to use race day in my training. I am very guilty about being lazy about this and I think it came to haunt me in some regard this race. Now while I do think there were other components to my failure, this is a big take-away I plan to fix.
---I still enjoyed an amazing week in paradise with my husband, who is now a 4x Ironman finisher who did finish and had an awesome race (PR'ed his Ironman time by nearly 2h)
---I've still had an incredible season with arguably a little too much racing, and one bad race certainly doesn't define that
---I'm fitter than I've ever been in my life and sometimes you just can't control all the elements- so bring on the next race and the 2020 season, I'm sure it will have it's highs and lows but that's why I love this sport.
So while a DNF sucks, I’m glad I learned some hard lessons, I think it will only make me come back stronger and smarter for the 2020 racing season.
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