"All In" At The Ironman 70.3 World Championships in Lahti, Finland
How a dare with a 12-year-old turned into my new 70.3 triathlon PR, and welcomed the unexpected joys of sobriety
The Dare
Soon after finishing the Ironman 70.3 in Marbella, Spain, I excitedly told my 12-year-old daughter, Quinn, that I had qualified for the World Championship race in Finland in August. It was a personal big win, and I had my own childlike difficulty of containing my excitement.
“What does that mean, ‘going to the World Championship’?”, she asked, her brows arched up with curiosity. Although Quinn is not a sports fan, and is new to triathlon, she is genuinely interested in what motivates people. After watching thousands of athletes wake up before the sun, and swim/bike/run until their bodies reached their limits, there had to be some magic in this somewhere.
“It means I have been invited to compete with athletes from all over the world who also did well in their races,” I replied, rehydrating in the shade, and watching the voodoo patterns of cramps work through my legs.
“So your prize for doing well in this race is…another race?”, she perplexed with a perfect pre-teen eye roll, “why would you ever want to do this all over again?”
Yes, this must look insane from the sidelines. So I sat up and had her watch the finishers continuing to come across the finish line, expressing every emotion imaginable.
“I know it sounds crazy, but we all LOVE to do this,” I explained, “it starts as a personal dare…I wonder if I could? And then you do it, and the world just glows for hours. So you try again, this time a little farther, a little higher, a little faster, and that finish line feels even better. Then you look around and see you have this clan of people all doing the same thing, finding the best in themselves and seeing the best in you, and turning that into positive energy to inject into every part of their life. Look at the faces of the finishers…everyone here is winning. We share that bond. The World Championship is the next level, like a secret pact that says if we ever get a chance to do it, we all will train our hardest and bring our ‘A’ game, out of respect for everyone here who had the courage to find their best."
She nodded, but soon enough, she knitted her brows again, “But you already train all the time. I mean, ALL THE TIME. How could you train any harder?”
Ha, I always think I can train more. But to Quinn, it must look like every waking moment.
“To honor an entry to Worlds, the best thing is to sacrifice anything that gets in the way of me achieving my best on race day,” I said casually, “so no desserts, no alcohol, no late nights with buddies, and double training days every day. Weekends would be hard training days, and sleeping in the afternoons to recover. It would be ‘ALL IN’.”
“Well that’s never going to happen,” she said, chuckling, “you’ve never gone a day without dessert or alcohol.”
Ouch. But then again, she sees what she sees, and she is not far from the truth. Aside from a two month stretch of sobriety in 2008, I hadn’t gone a week without alcohol for 40 years.
“I’m happy to show you,” I replied, “the sacrifice looks hard, but it’s simply a choice. A choice to give up something each day in exchange for something much bigger that you won’t see until the end. For example, you could choose to train with me, and pick a shorter race near the same weekend. Then perhaps you could feel like those finishers on race day.”
“Okay, I’ll do it,” she said triumphantly, “but no bikes…swim and run only. Honestly, I think I’m a faster swimmer than most people here anyway. I can probably win.”
Ah, that sounds more like the ambition of a second child. And so, it began!
Race Day In Lahti, Finland (Aug 28th)
For the record, Quinn did train very hard…for about three weeks. Swim coach on the weekends, and even joined me for a few runs. But soon she was pulled to what her friends were doing on the weekends, and she (literally) threw in the towel. She did try, however, and for parents, every little victory counts.
But what a favor she did for me! Our shared pact recruited the family to help us out, and soon I found myself in a great environment for stepping up the training. A twelve week uninterrupted block (including hall passes on family vacations), smart food choices, and best of all, sobriety. And quite honestly, some of the best sleep of my whole life.
You could see it in the numbers. Thousands of kilometers on the bike, dozens of pool sessions, and the Whoop sleep scores of a 25-year-old. My weight was down 4kg to 69kg (152 lbs), my FTP was north of 265w (up 20w), and my resting heart rate was in the high 30’s again for the first time in a decade. I am 54-years-old, so I always have to wonder “is this is the year where it all starts slowing down”. I am prepared for that day, and look forward to continued enjoyment of my favorite sports with my warrior clan. But good news…today is not that day! Today I would be crazy to not shoot for a PR, and the sub-5 hour finish time for 70.3 had eluded me for decades (5:03 was my closest in 2005).
I could also see the results in the mental game. Sobriety really kicks in after 3-4 weeks, something I had not realized. The sleep was much better, but there was also this energy, this raw ambition, that was pouring its way into work, family, and life. It was actually quite hard to focus that energy, the way it was spilling out beyond the guardrails of training, saying “What the f*k are you doing right now? Get in there!” at any moment I tried to step back or not engage. It was nice to have an event where I could go “ALL IN”, and give this geyser more direction.
I was once again part of the Ironman XC tribe, full of business leaders from all over the globe having a little “competition within the competition”. It was great to catch up with friends Bob and Lisa, Dina and Kion, and meet a lot of new faces too. As expected, everyone was looking fit and ready to roll. Many brought their families too, which made for a really fun environment. We were all getting to know the little town of Lahti, and had learned this weekend was the biggest event here since the World Games in 2009. Considering how Ironman literally took over this town, the locals were all incredible friendly and welcoming.
Thousands of participants were here, thanks to the two day format that would allow many more to race than usual. Kion and I cheered on the women on Saturday, and racked up our bikes for Sunday. It was the perfect way to get psyched!
As I got into line for the lake swim, a fellow athlete zipped up my wetsuit and said “you are half as wide as other athletes…you must be runner!”. He was right, and we all had a good chuckle. Swimming was still a weak spot for me, so I lined up to the side and didn’t get into the fray of other swimmers. My time would show it…at 41 minutes, I was slower here than in the open ocean in Marbella. But I definitely felt better. I also had a slower transition, as it had begun to rain and I thought it worthy to put on some bike sleeves and a vest.
Once on the bike, I felt great. I had a proper TT bike this time, an older model I had bought for Ironman Austria six years back, but had not raced. My wife, Christi, said I could buy a new bike, citing her added comfort level of having disc brakes on the newer models (I think recounting the high speed descents of the Maratona dles Dolomitis in the previous month gave her pause). She knows my perfect amount of bikes is “n+1”, where n = the amount of bikes I currently have, so it was a big step to have permission! I gave a nod to the cycling industry for their little invention, but in the end, it was best to train with the bike I had.
The speed of the cyclists around me was ASTOUNDING. I would be spinning along at 38kmph (~25 mph), and get passed every 3-4 minutes. I guess this is the World Champs!
At the 35km mark (of 90km), we had our first big turn, and I slotted in behind a few cyclists before squeezing my brakes and feeling NOTHING. Uh oh, the rim brakes were doing their best in the rain, but apparently not as well as the disk brakes around me! I swung wide, and hit the grass, crashing into the mud, but landing on my feet. With the help of some spectators, I got all my water bottles and was back on in a few minutes. I had to laugh - Christi was right, I do need disc brakes!
The crash had also reset my bike computer, but I was feeling that I could go harder anyway, so I left it off. I went at the best pace I could in the rain, which helped stay warm (in retrospect, I found that I had put out far more watts in the last hour). Coming into transition in 2 hrs 32 min, I was happy with the time!
The switch to the run was quick, and it was a great hilly course already full of triathletes making their way through three laps of dirt and road, and even a lap on the stadium track each time around. I had not run the course previously, so held back a bit on the first lap, only to realize I should have just gone hard. So I went hard on laps 2 and 3, finding a great pace around 4:10/km (6:45 min/mile). My watch was off, so I had no idea where I was time wise, but it sure felt like I was close.
I crossed the finish line and turned around to the clock to see…4:59:25! What? How could I get that close with no watch or bike computer?!? Dina was there to put a medal around my neck, and I just had to laugh. Sport is amazing.
The 1:29 half marathon run had done the trick, and many in my age group would point out this foot speed remains my secret weapon (although my total time is a good 40 minutes off what it would take to podium in my age group). I guess all that ultrarunning practice of running on wrecked legs has its advantages. We hydrated and ate, and I enjoyed a celebratory beer with my fellow warriors. But one beer would be enough…strangely, sobriety feels more fitting now. I can be completely in the moment, absorbing the power of this finish line with people from all over the globe. As it should be!
It felt great to go “ALL IN”, and I’m already excited to step it up for 2024. I still find it fascinating that my body is adapting so well to triathlon training, more so than previous years. And I know I have some room to improve - in the Ironman XC competition, I had gotten 2nd place, beaten by a few minutes by a better all-around triathlete (better swim, better bike, better transitions). It’s a good reminder it takes the full package to win. There were also some incredible performances by other XC’ers with some wicked fast splits, and in true Worlds spirit, they all brought their “A game”. As they dug into my finish time splits, they encouraged me to do both the 70.3 and full Ironman next year with that “killer run”, and entering into the 55-59 age group where it pays to be on the young end. I’m letting the idea marinate. And I’m getting the new bike with disc brakes, for sure! (ha, ha)
I hope this finds you all well!
Cheers, Scott
Congratulations Scott! Great to read this account of your success. I was at IM Cali a few weeks ago to meet up with a couple of Coaches I am working with and all their Athletes, new to using Vespa had significant PR's (4) minutes to over 2 hours) and my experience thus far with the people I am working with is like yours.....the sport fosters self-improvement through the collective community support to help others also rise on their journey......
Way to go Scott! Your 6:45 pace at our age, in a triathlon rather than "just a run," is insane.