2016 By the Numbers

I pulled all of these numbers off of my TrainingPeaks account. My season ran from December 7th 2015 to November 20th 2016. It should be noted that some of these numbers will be skewed downwards, particularly the weekly averages. TrainingPeaks operates on a Monday-Sunday week, but a lot of my training weeks did not fall this way. Regardless, it gives you a good picture of what I did this year:

Total swim distance: 989927m

Total swim time: 286 hours 8 minutes

Average swim pace for year: 1:44min/100m

Average daily swim distance: 2829m

Highest daily swim mileage: 7000m


Total run distance: 4109km

Total run time: 265 hours 23 minutes

Average run pace for year: 3:52min/km

Average weekly run distance: 82.2km

Highest weekly run mileage: 138km

Highest daily run mileage: 42.2km


Total bike time: 397 hours 52 minutes

Average daily bike time: 1 hour 8 minutes

Highest weekly bike duration: 14 hours 3 minutes

Longest daily bike duration: 5 hours


Average weekly training duration: 19 hours 1 minute

Highest weekly training duration: 29 hours 27 minutes

Total number of complete off days: 52



Below is what the training intensity distribution looked like on the bike. Zone 1 is 0-215w. Zone 2 is 216-275w. Zone 3 is 276-340w. Zone 4 is 341-390w. Zone 5 is 391-420w. Zone 6 is 421-550w. Zone 7 is 551w+. I log all of my run training by hand as I do most of it on the treadmill, but I am confident the run intensity distribution would look similar.


This training produced these results in order:

1st Panama 70.3 (Pan American Championship)

1st Oceanside 70.3

1st Texas 70.3

1st St. George 70.3 (North American Championship)

1st Mont Tremblant 70.3

2nd Racine 70.3

2nd Wiesbaden 70.3 (European Championship)

9th 70.3 World Championship

29th Ironman World Championship

10th Island House Invitational Triathlon

1st Ironman Arizona

The highlight of the year for me: St. George 70.3. Jan Frodeno handed me my ass here in 2014. I was miserable for days after but eventually saw the light and changed my attitude and orientation towards the sport for the better. The lessons learned in that race have formed the basis of every race since then. It was deeply satisfying to go back there and redeem myself.

St. George Finish

Thanks for reading and following along this year. Enjoy the holidays!

IMAZ Lessons Part 3

I know it’s old news, but I wanted to finish my series on the Lessons of IMAZ. Better late than never…

After Kona I had a chat with Dave Scott. He had a suspicion that I am a very quad dominant rider and runner. I described to him the “cliff” that I had been falling of on the bike in recent Ironman races. Something like: “ I am riding along feeling great, then suddenly it’s like I can’t produce any power whatsoever. It’s tough to believe it is rooted in nutrition as once my feet hit the run course I feel better. And it’s also tough to believe it is rooted in over-biking, as I usually ride at equal or lesser percentages of FTP than my competitors.” He got me thinking about the idea that the name of the game in Ironman is efficiency. Those who spread the work load more evenly across the muscles will be able to sustain greater power and faster run paces, for longer.

Earlier in 2016 I moved to a much less aggressive position on the front end of my bike. The goal being to make the TT position more comfortable. I didn’t realize it at the time but this new position resulted in a significant shift in muscle recruitment to my quads. Initially, I did notice that my quads were burning significantly more in workouts than ever before, but after a few weeks this went away, so I didn’t think much of it. I stuck with the position all year and posted the fastest bike split in: Panama 70.3, Oceanside 70.3, Texas 70.3, St. George 70.3, Mont Tremblant 70.3 and Racine 70.3. In Kona, I was riding well, but then fell off the aforementioned “cliff” at around 120km.

I certainly don’t attribute this “cliff” in Kona entirely to position and muscle recruitment. As mentioned in my previous posts, I didn’t have the legs to go the distance. But, I do remember a time when I was able to hold good power for an entire Ironman, with very little to no lull, and then run decently well off of it. When? Ironman Florida in 2014. For those who don’t remember, the swim in that race was cancelled due to rip currents. Of course, that will skew the data a bit, but that alone is not enough to account for the entire effect. In that race, I held 313w for the entire bike. Through 90 miles the average power was 318w, so it was a pretty evenly paced bike. Off the bike, I ran a 2:43 marathon, including a port-a-john stop. Up until Ironman Arizona 2016, that Florida performance remained my best bike-run over the distance. The discouraging part was that that was my first professional Ironman! In the last two years I feel that I have improved markedly in all aspects of training, nutrition and racing. One thing that I did do differently in Florida, was that I rode a VERY aggressive position.

Kona 2016 was such an embarrassing experience, I figured I really didn’t have anything to lose by making significant changes to my position. I decided to drop my front end as far as it would go by removing all the spacers on my handle bars and between the frame and stem. As far as it would go was not good enough. Doing some video analysis while riding, I noticed I still didn’t look as aggressive as many of my competitors (Jan Frodeno and Sebastien Kienle for example). I decided to purchase a -20 degree stem to get the front end down even further. The stem was so aggressive that my bike shop Cycle Culture had to machine out the dust cap in order for it to fit properly. Doing video analysis after this, I looked a lot more like my competitors.

From an aerodynamic perspective I was pretty certain the position would be faster, but what I was most interested in is what the position would do to my muscle recruitment. After my first ride in the new position, my glutes were excruciatingly sore for three days. Here are my comments from TrainingPeaks the day after this first ride:

“Sore as hell, in the back side (glutes, hams and even lower back) I think due to position change”

Over the next couple of weeks I adapted significantly to the new position. Without a doubt, my glutes were firing more forcefully and earlier on in the pedal stroke. What I think dropping the front end did was force me to recruit my glutes more. At such a closed hip angle, the quads are pretty much useless. In order to turn the pedals over you have to first recruit the glutes, and then as the hip angle opens, the quads can begin to fire. In a less aggressive position it is possible to fire the quads a lot earlier in the pedal stroke, which over time can allow you to develop a significant imbalance. I definitely don’t think my glutes weren’t firing, but I am certain that my glutes were not working nearly as hard as they could have been working in the less aggressive position.

Another thing I noticed over the next couple of weeks was that my run legs felt a lot more fresh coming off the bike. I think running well off the bike is rooted in efficiency while on the bike, so if the biking load is being spread more evenly across the muscles, it would make sense that the run legs would feel better.

This was all fine and dandy, but the true test was going to be at Ironman Arizona. In Arizona, I averaged 318w for the first 3 hours and 30 minutes (321w NP). My power did drop for the final 35 minutes, but a great deal of this was a conscious decision as I knew the race would be won on the run, and at this point I was in second place only two minutes down from the leader. For the final 35 minutes I averaged 290w (294w NP) and my total average for the bike was 315w (317w NP). This was a new best power output over the distance, surpassing my old record from Ironman Florida 2014 by 2w. But, this time round there was a swim!

Out onto the run, my legs felt very good. I would say it is the best they have ever felt coming off a 4+ hour bike. I went through the first half of the marathon in 1:18:30 or so and it felt relatively easy and controlled. Of course, the final 10 miles were significantly more painful, but I attribute a great deal of this to still not having the endurance to cover the entire distance.

So, what is the take home message here? First, efficiency is the name of the game in Ironman. Second, the glutes are potentially the strongest muscle in your body, so make sure you are using them to the best of their ability. Third, position on the bike can have a significant effect on how you recruit your muscles, so keep this in mind as you hone what position works best for you.

Update: For those interested, the drop to the front end between Kona and IMAZ was just under 70mm. 25mm removed from under arm pads, 12.5mm removed from under stem, ~30mm drop gained from going from -6 degree to -20 degree stem at 120mm.

IMAZ Lessons Part 2

There were two more useful lessons I learned in the days after Kona and that I applied leading into IMAZ. This first one came from my training advisor David Tilbury Davis. He had a look at the training I had been doing over the last couple of years and noticed that I rarely do my swimming first. Most of the time I swim second, usually after a bike workout, and sometimes I would swim third, after both a bike and run workout. I won’t go as far as to say I was unaware of this. I have had many people make the suggestion over the last couple of years to swim before doing my bike and run sessions. In all honesty, the only reason I have not swam first thing has been pure laziness. I hate waking up early. I have preferred to wake up around 8am, sit around for an hour and a half and have breakfast and a coffee, and then get onto the bike once I feel fully awake. I would usually do a two hour bike workout, then have lunch. By the time I was getting to the pool it was usually after 2pm. This also happens to be the time of day where I am really feeling like having a nap.

I’m not sure why this particular time the suggestion got through my thick skull. I have a feeling the embarrassment from 70.3 Worlds and Kona played a role. As well, having my ass handed to me in the water by literally every single athlete at the Island House Triathlon, also added to my receptivity to suggestions. When I got back home from Island House I vowed to start waking up early and getting my swim done first thing in the morning, before any other exercise sessions. In the beginning, it was hard, but I quickly got used to the routine. I would truly describe this suggestion as life changing. I was finishing my swim by 8:30 am. I don’t know why, but being done a session by 8:30 really motivates you to stay on task for the rest of the day. I would start my bike workout at 11:00am, and then would start my run workout by 2:30pm. I was often getting finished training before 5 o’clock, and then going to bed at 10pm. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I can’t remember the last time, I had so much free time. In the past, it was nothing out of the ordinary to get finished training after 8pm.

That aspect of this change was great, but that’s not the interesting part. Over the course of the three weeks leading into IMAZ my perception in the water was improving noticeably. One of the major issues I have in the water is that as I increase the intensity I drop my elbow progressively more, pushing less water directly backwards than I would if I kept the forearm more perpendicular to the bottom of the pool. I was amazed at how much more conscious of this I was becoming, and how much more able I was to make changes to this movement, especially under load. A few days before IMAZ I said to Erin “my feel for the water is getting really good.” The night before the race my dad told me he had a gut feeling I was going to have the best swim of my life. I said to him, “maybe, my feel for the water is really good right now.” I don’t know if I have said “my feel for the water is really good” at any other time in my entire career. The next day I had a lifetime best swim, and came out with individuals who were 4 minutes ahead of me just six weeks prior in Kona.

This improvement shouldn’t be of much surprise though. The one thing that I think I have neglected over the last five years has been just how neuromuscularly intensive swimming is. “Feel for the water” and proprioceptive awareness in the water is a predominantly neurological phenomenon. Biking and running put significant stress on the body from a neurological and muscular standpoint. Thus, biking and running before swimming is going to significantly impair this perception. As well, our body in water weighs about 10% of what it does on land. It is likely that our perceptive ability in water is something like 10% of what it is on land, predominantly because the only time we experience using and maneuvering our body at 10% of its land weight, is when we are swimming. Swimming first thing allowed me to utilize a lot more of that “10% of land perception” and by the end of three weeks my “feel for the water” had improved markedly.

Another interesting thing to point out is that I did not taper the swim into IMAZ whatsoever. Gerry Rodrigues has been saying this for years. As a weak swimmer, my perception in the water is poor relative to better swimmers. Tapering the swim into a race does not improve my feel for the water. Tapering the swim into a race makes sense for a good swimmer because their feel for the water is significantly better, and significantly deeper ingrained, and so shedding some swim fatigue sharpens that perception. For a weaker swimmer it makes more sense to swim as much as usual or even more leading into a race, as this will help to improve that perception a lot more than shedding fatigue will help improve that perception. Both the week leading into IMAZ and the week before that were my highest volume swim weeks since mid-June.

Long story short, if you are not swimming first thing, or at the very least, doing your key swim workouts first thing, you are selling yourself short. In just three weeks of swimming first thing every day, I noticed a significant improvement in my perception, and this translated directly into better swimming. I am excited to get back to the chopping block next week, and swim first thing every day for a year! In my next post I will share one more lesson, but this one pertains to the bike.

IMAZ Lessons Part 1

As I mentioned in my post-Kona analysis, I had a suspicion that because I was in good top-end shape from peaking for 70.3 Worlds, my endurance would come quick. I wasn’t 100% sure though, so I basically spent the 5 weeks after Kona testing this hypothesis. There are three crucial areas that you can improve endurance in when preparing for an Ironman:

  1. A long run.
  2. A long ride.
  3. A long day.

My goal for the five weeks leading into Arizona was to do my best to improve in all three areas. For the long run, I started off with a steady state run of 30km and slowly increased this run to 40km over the course of four weeks. I don’t think biking is nearly as taxing on the body as running, so I immediately forced myself to do a 5 hour ride, and then did two more of these over the next four weeks. I also built up my interval workouts to a point where my final workout took 3 hours. With regards to a long day, I think it is safest to piggy back this day onto your long ride. So, on the long ride / long day, I would do a 1 hour swim in the morning of about 4km, then have a quick bite to eat and hop onto my bike for five hours, then run 1 hour off the bike.

The first 30km run in this block was very taxing. I averaged 4:18/km and it was very challenging at the end. This made me certain that a great deal of my problems in Kona stemmed from a lack of endurance. The same was true of my first long ride / long day. I averaged 231w for the ride, and nearly fell off the bike afterwards it hurt so bad. The run off the bike was also quite challenging, as I averaged 4:19/km.

Endurance progressed very quickly from there. In my next long run I travelled 35km at an average pace of 4:04/km. I felt pretty good through 28km. In my next long ride / long day I averaged 255w on the bike. Admittedly, I still had a major lull around 3 hours, but by 4 hours I got through it and the 5th hour was significantly easier. My hour run off the bike had improved as well. This time round I averaged 3:59/km and yet it felt easier than the last time.

In my final long run I travelled 40km at an average pace of 3:57/km. I didn’t have a lull until about 35km this time. On my final long ride / long day, I held 261w for 5 hours, and there was close to no lull the entire time. Once again, the run off the bike felt even better than the previous time, and yet I ran 3:56/km, which was 3 seconds per kilometer faster than last time. It was at this point that I started to feel confident that I would be able to put together a much better race in Arizona than I did in Kona.

In Arizona I was able to hold good power for about 3.5 hours. Unfortunately, my endurance started to wane and for the final 35 minutes I averaged 280w, which is about 30-40w less than my target. On the run I was able to hold pace for about 16 miles. Up until this point I was averaging 3:45/km. Unfortunately, my endurance started to wane and for the final 10 miles I averaged 4:06/km. Both of these performances were significant improvements on Kona, but both still were not perfect. This is to be expected though as I only had 5 weeks to work on improving my endurance. I think with one more 5 week stint, I could have got into the best possible shape my current system would allow.

If you have been following along for a while now, you will recall that my major lesson from Kona 2015 was that spending lots of time at race pace does not make race pace easier. My conclusion was that spending time significantly above race pace and the remainder of the time significantly below race pace, is what makes race pace easier. I took this conclusion one step further in 2016 and decided that in order to get my intervals as high as possible above race pace, I was not going to do any sessions with unnecessary levels of volume. Since I was focusing on the 70.3, the necessary volume was 2 hours on the bike and 20 kilometers on the run, as this is the time/distance covered in the race. I still think this is the best way to prepare for a 70.3, and even an Ironman.

Doing long bikes, runs and days throughout the year puts unnecessary fatigue into the body. That fatigue will show itself in your high-end interval workouts, and you will not be able to push the upper limits as high as you could if you were not doing those long sessions. Once the body is in good shape I don’t think it takes long to build endurance. I think it takes about 10 weeks to build up the volume to the point where you will be able to RACE an Ironman from start to finish, to the best of your ability.

In summary, I think the best way to prepare for an Ironman is to focus on pushing the upper limits as high as you can get them for most of the year. If I was preparing for Kona for instance, and I started training on January 1st, I would spend the vast majority of January through to the end of June focusing on pushing my Vo2Max and Lactate Threshold paces. And then, around mid-July (about 10 weeks before Kona), I would continue to push those upper limits, but I would then start systematically increasing the volume of my long run, long ride and long day. The hope for this phase of training is that I can eventually exercise for the duration the Ironman will take me, without much taxation. You must keep in mind though that once this phase starts, it is very unlikely you will be able to produce the same Vo2Max and Lactate Threshold paces because you are introducing a lot more fatigue into the body due to the increased volume. But, it is still important to work these upper values. Once again, I think it is very important to stress that these long sessions are very little about pace. They are about stimulating the muscles for the duration you plan to compete for, so that in the race, they will continue to fire properly from start to finish, allowing you to RACE an Ironman from start to finish.

There are two more valuable lessons I learned in the five weeks after Kona that I think may be of value. I will present these in my next post.

IMAZ ’16 Analysis Part 2

I will go right back to the beginning. After a very disappointing experience at 70.3 Worlds I was actually quite depressed for about two weeks. It was not due to a disappointment in myself, but more of a bitterness about how the race unfolded. I learned an interesting lesson here. Your body’s recovery mechanism is greatly influenced by your mind. Usually I am feeling a lot better after a race, about three days later, but after this one it took me nearly two weeks to feel any semblance of recovery. I tried to put in some quality training in the month after the race, but just about every workout was sub-par, and I just didn’t have it in me to do any decent level of volume.

Hindsight is always 20/20, and I should have pulled the plug on Kona. I just hadn’t put in the necessary work to race an Ironman. I thought though that because I was in such good top-end shape, having peaked for 70.3 Worlds, that I might be able to gut out a decent Ironman. I said many times to Erin and family members leading into the race, that Kona was either going to go really good or really bad. There would be no in between. Unfortunately, it went really bad. At 70.3 Worlds just one month prior, I had the fastest run split. At Kona, I walk-jogged the final 23 kilometers of the marathon, and had one of the slowest run splits among the pro men.

If you need motivation, walk-jog the final 23 kilometers of the Ironman World Championship. The embarrassment from this performance stung. I did an analysis after (which you can read HERE) and realized that I simply just had not done an adequate amount of volume to be able to RACE an Ironman from start to finish. In the six weeks leading into Ironman Arizona, the only thing I did was try and gradually build up my volume in both a long ride and run, as well as in my interval workouts. With about 8 days to go before Ironman Arizona, I was finally starting to feel some confidence that I could go the distance.

I will be completely honest. I had been swimming very well in practice the final two weeks leading into Arizona. I had very little lull in my 5 hour ride just 8 days prior to the race, and about 9 days prior to the race I was able to do 2x1hour at 325w with ease. On the run, I was able to run 40km with a lull only starting around 30km, and I was able to do 4x5km at 10.5mph and this felt pretty controlled as well. I reflected on these three attributes and knew that if I could put them all together it would produce a fast time. I am a student of the sport, and have been aware of Marino Vanhoenacker’s official Ironman World Record time of 7:45:58 for many years. I thought that maybe, just maybe, on the perfect day, I could take a stab at that time.

The gun went at 6:40am. My mantra for the swim was “8 out of 10”. One of the major things I have struggled with in swimming is relaxing. Having grown up running my mind and body is programmed that the more pain the better. For the most part, this is true for running, the more pain you feel, the faster you go, but this couldn’t be further from the truth for swimming. If I swam at 8 out of 10, in reality this would probably be closer to 9.5 out of 10, but that little bit of control would allow me to sustain the stroke better, and adopt better form.

I got out well and was on some feet. I noticed a gap opening up in front of the person I was drafting, so went by them and bridged the gap. A little while later I noticed another gap opening, and passed that person and bridged the gap again. I rounded the turn buoy with two swimmers in front and a few swimmers behind and beside me. A little while later I found myself in front of everyone. A few minutes went by like this and I started to think that perhaps I was going the wrong way. I did a half back stroke pull to see if there were people behind me, and it turned out there was. I was leading the pack that I am used to missing and then watching slowly pull away from me. I hadn’t realized how much I relied on them to show me the course! I then started to think that perhaps I was having a really bad swim, and was actually leading a pack that I am usually ahead of. I emerged from the water and noticed the person next to me was Pedro Gomes. He had to take a double take at me because we have never come out of the water together. He actually said to me as we were running to get our gear bags, “wow you had a good swim!” Pedro swam over 4 minutes faster than me in Kona, so this put me in a good mind set for the rest of the day.

Out onto the bike, I knew I needed to be patient. My new training advisor and mentor David Tilbury-Davis advised me to “be patient, be wise, be ruthless.” I repeated this probably several hundred times in my head throughout the ride, as well as “an Ironman’s a long way.” I was holding about 320w through the first hour. It felt so easy that I thought perhaps my power meter was malfunctioning. My target power for the ride was 310-320w though and I vowed to stick to the plan. Despite it feeling easy, I backed off a little bit and let the average come down to about 316w by the end of the first 60km loop. By the halfway point of the bike the average was back up to 318w.

Around three hours it was starting to become a lot harder to hold the power. I realized then that my power meter was functioning properly, and I was very glad that I had not deviated from the plan. At around 3.5 hours I was really starting to hurt, and instead of killing myself to hold the power, I decided to drop it and ride closer to 270w. This was hard, but not so hard that I felt like I was burning matches. In the end, I averaged 315w, for a bike time just under 4 hours and 5 minutes. Getting onto the bike I noticed my swim plus T1 time was a little over 55 minutes. I knew going out onto the run course that my composite time until that point was a little over 5 hours and 1 minute, and that in order to have a chance at getting under Marino’s mark I would need to run a sub 2:44 marathon.

My run legs felt pretty good. I didn’t look at my watch for the first 3km or so, but when I did I saw I was averaging around 3:45/km. I knew this was too hot, but I also knew that it was very unlikely that I would have the endurance to the go the full distance. I put in 5 quality weeks of training post-Kona, and I definitely improved my endurance significantly, but it was not going to be enough to run a steady pace from start to finish. I decided that I would try and build up some fat, so that when my endurance did start to wane, I might still have a shot at getting under the time.

Through the half-marathon the average pace according to my watch was 3:44/km. At this point I was definitely starting to hurt. I knew I needed to average about 3:54/km for the entire run, so I lapped my watch and then my goal became to keep the average pace for the second half of the run under 4:04/km. I was really starting to hurt by 15 miles. By 17 miles the wheels were starting to fall off. Another three miles passed and I was really starting to slow. By this point, the average pace for the second half of the run was about 3:58/km, and things were going downhill fast. It was at this point that I threw in the towel. I couldn’t imagine carrying on at the pace I was running for another 8 miles. I thought to myself “7:48 is a really good time. There’s no shame in that!”

I persevered onwards for the next 5 miles knowing that Marino’s mark would live to see another day. I kept the pace as honest as I could because I still wanted to produce a fast time, but I stopped looking at my watch. And then, right around the 23 mile marker, I had a great surprise. My fiancée Erin MacDonald had ran out to this point of the course and started yelling at me, “You’re still on pace! The record is yours if you want it but you’re going to have to pick up the pace!” This happened just before an aid station. As I was going through the aid station I grabbed a cup of ice cold water. I don’t know why but the moment the cold water hit the back of my throat I woke up. Erin’s words had penetrated my thick skull. I realized that if I did not pick up the pace, and give it everything I had for the final 3 miles, that I would regret it for the rest of my life. Almost instantaneously I was able to pick up the pace and get back down to 6 minute miles. It hurt so much that I actually had to start yelling at myself outloud in order to keep the pace. “Come on! Come on!” is what I was yelling through gritted teeth. Athlete’s going the opposite direction on the course very likely thought I was insane. And I probably was pretty close to insane at this point.

With about 100m to go I came around the final corner and could see the clock. It was still in the 7:44’s. I knew then that I would get under Marino’s mark. It was then that I started to get the tears down the cheeks and the shiver down the spine. The first image I encountered when I found out about this sport in 2009, was of Craig Alexander winning the Ironman World Championship that year. Here is the image (not sure who to credit for this image at this point as it has been widely circulated):


That image has been on my wall ever since then. You never know what is going to happen, and you never know which race will be your last. To pay homage to Craig for the inspiration he has been to me in my career, I did my best impersonation of his finish line crossing:



This is a moment I will never forget. This certainly isn’t the end of the journey, but it is definitely a step in the right direction. If there is anything I have set out to prove through my triathlon career it is that it doesn’t matter where you start. If you decide to make a positive change for yourself; if you surround yourself with good and positive people; and you work hard and persevere through the many struggles that you are bound to encounter; there is not a single doubt in my mind that you can do anything or go anywhere. I hope this performance adds a little more proof to that belief.

I think it is important to note that the distance has been covered faster two other times in the past: once by Andreas Raelert (2011) and once by Jan Frodeno (2016), both at an event called Challenge Roth. Ironman does not acknowledge these as official records though because they did not occur in official Ironman events. I think both Jan and Andreas are two of the greatest athletes to ever do the sport and deserve recognition for having produced faster times over the distance. To even be mentioned in the same paragraph as them is a true honour, and they have both been massive sources of inspiration for my career.

In my next post, I will do a final analysis of my training leading into the race and provide conclusions as to how to properly prepare for an Ironman.

IMAZ ’16 Analysis Part 1

For those reading who I do not have on Facebook, I would first like to repost my initial thoughts from there:

Just wanted to send a big thank you to everyone for their cheers and support. I did Ironman Louisville back in 2010 in 10:14:31. I couldn’t fathom going a second faster. Yesterday I had a lifetime best swim, bike and run, and was able to cross the finish in 7:44:29, a little over 2.5 hours faster than my race six years ago. If there is anything you take away from this performance I hope it is that ANYTHING is possible if you cultivate a love and passion for what you are doing, and you are willing to persevere through the adversity that you are bound to encounter.

I will start off my Ironman Arizona analysis in the same way I did my Kona ‘16 analysis. You can read that first Kona post HERE. Below you will find my updated top 10 run and bike mileage lists. I think it is also important to note that in the 5 weeks after Kona I did three 7 hour training days, which consisted of a 1 hour swim, 5 hour bike ride and 1 hour run off the bike. I also participated in the three day stage race called the Island House Triathlon from October 28-30th.

My 10 longest runs in the last six months:

November 11th: 30.2km at 3:50/km

November 9th: 35.4km at 3:50/km

November 7th: 30.2km at 3:52/km

November 4th: 30.2km at 3:54/km

November 2nd: 40km at 3:57/km

October 23rd: 24.1km at 3:55/km

October 21st: 35km at 4:04/km

October 19th: 26.2km at 3:52/km

October 14th: 30km at 4:18/km

October 8th: 42.2km at 4:44/km

My 10 longest rides in the last six months:

November 12th: 5 hours at 261w

November 10th: 2 hours 45 minutes at 311w

November 8th: 3 hours at 303w

November 5th: 5 hours at 255w

October 24th: 4 hours at 255w

October 17th: 5 hours at 231w

October 8th: 4 hours 25 minutes at 299w

September 25th: 4 hours at 255w

September 14th: 2 hours 35 minutes at 261w

July 27th: 4 hours 2 minutes at 271w

In my next post I will give my thoughts on the race and how it unfolded, and then I will follow that with a post on my conclusions, training recommendations, and plan moving forward.


Kona ’16 Analysis Part 2

As was the case last year, Kona has once again been a great learning experience. First, I must say, as someone who views themselves as a strong runner, starting to walk at around 19 kilometers into the marathon is rather embarrassing. I had the fastest run split at 70.3 Worlds, and pretty close to the slowest run split among the pros, one month later at Ironman Worlds. I thought the days of walking in races were over long ago. I think it’s a real testament to how grueling an Ironman triathlon can be. But, it’s not healthy to dwell on the negative for too long; all you can do is try and learn the lessons that need to be learned, then persevere onwards. Originally I thought I would be able to expound the lessons learned this year in a single blog post, but there is just too much to discuss to fit into a single post, so I will have to do several posts on the topic. Here is the first lesson I learned this year in Kona:


Respect the distance!


The astute observer may recall that in my analysis of Kona last year, I argued that you should not do long sessions at race pace. I think some people perhaps misunderstood what I meant by that, and thought I meant that you should not do long sessions. This is definitely not what I meant to say. What I intended to communicate is that spending a lot of time at race pace does not make race pace easier. I still believe this to be the case. I think you should spend a great deal of time above race pace, and the rest of the time well below race pace, and this is what will make race pace easier.

This past year I did a lot of high end intervals. I was focusing exclusively on the 70.3 distance, so I rarely ran longer than 20 kilometers or biked longer than 2 hours; in other words, I never spent much more time in practice doing any of the disciplines, than I would spend doing the discipline in the race. That’s all fine and dandy if all you are going to do is the 70.3 distance. The problem is that I had an Ironman on the schedule. I thought perhaps I would be able to get away with a lack of mileage because I had pushed my upper limits so high, but then reality hit me. I did not respect the distance.

If all you want to do is FINISH an Ironman, then this is a viable training approach. I was able to FINISH an Ironman in 8 hours and 44 minutes; albeit it was quite painful, and I walked / shuffled for about 23 kilometers. If you want to RACE an Ironman from start to finish, you need to respect the distance and put in the time. The fact of the matter is that if your muscles are not used to firing for 6, 7, 8 or even more hours, then it will become progressively more laborious to make those muscles fire as you go beyond the limits of your endurance. I can’t remember the last time I ran at 5 minutes per kilometer. I do my leisure / active recovery jogging at around 4:30 per kilometer. At these paces my heart rate is under 100BPM. In the race in Kona, by about 19 kilometers, I was running at around 5 minutes per kilometer, and the perceived exertion was through the roof. It just so happens that that was a little over 6 hours into the race.

I have lots of experience exercising for 4 hours. Most of my training days this year were between 3 and 4 hours. I think this is why I was able to execute a decent bike without having put in adequate mileage on the bike (the bike took me 4 hours and 26 minutes). I have only done a handful of training days this year over 5 hours. My body was able to function decently well for about 6 hours. I think this shows that there is some wiggle room. I was able to RACE for about 6 hours off of training intended on getting me in the best shape possible to RACE for 4 hours. If the race had been a 4k swim to a 120k bike to a 30k run, I think I could have done a lot better, as this would have taken a little under 6 hours. Unfortunately, this was not the race distance.

I think this is why you hear of a lot of guys incorporating “over-biking” into their training routine. I think a lot of the “pain” that you experience as you reach the limits of your endurance is a byproduct of the muscles not being used to functioning continuously for that long. I am no scientist, but I would imagine the phenomenon is rooted in the strength of the firing neurons beginning to diminish. It would be very dangerous to try and run for the duration that it takes to race an Ironman. It is significantly less dangerous to ride your bike for the durations it takes to do an Ironman. I have heard of many of the top athletes doing 6 or 7 hour bike rides, where they may cover 200 kilometers or more. Many of them will precede it with a swim, let’s say of about an hour; and a few may even do a short run after, or later in the evening. The total of this type of workout would be around 7 hours on the short end, or over 8 hours on the long end. I think a large part of the motivation to do this type of workout is to give the muscles experience at firing for durations similar to what it takes to RACE an Ironman.

It should be noted, I don’t think it takes many of these workouts, and I don’t think it takes very long for the body to adapt to these workouts because as I said above, I believe the phenomenon is rooted predominantly on the neuronal level. If you have ever lifted weights then you will understand this phenomenon. It is very common for someone to nearly double in strength when they first start doing an exercise (the bench press for instance), in just a few weeks. Close to no muscle mass will have been put on in this time. What happens, is that the neurons begin to fire stronger and more efficiently under the load, allowing the individual to put up more weight quite rapidly. Of course, the gains from this process diminish quite rapidly, and as time progresses, the ability to put up more weight generally comes with an increase in muscle mass. I believe something very similar is what happens in long distance endurance training.

Another element to stress is that the pace or wattage of these sessions isn’t that important. The important thing is that you go beyond durations that you are adapted to exercising for, until you get close to exercising for the duration you plan to RACE for (keeping in mind you do have some wiggle room, as was noted above). Scratch that, the pace and wattage is of massive importance. It is important that you do not do these sessions very hard. If you do these sessions hard, then you will amass a ton of fatigue (and increase your risk of injury). If you are massively fatigued, then you will not be able to push your upper limits very high, and you will “gravitate towards the middle,” as I have discussed in previous posts.

In summary, you need to RESPECT THE DISTANCE if you plan to RACE THE DISTANCE. This does not mean you should spend a ton of time at race pace. You should almost always be either well above or well below race pace. But this does mean you need to put in some big mileage. The safest way to put in this mileage is through a combination of swimming and a lot of biking, with perhaps a little bit of running. This is not to say that you shouldn’t do a long run, as I do believe in order to execute a decent marathon, you need to do a decent length long run, following a similar logic as the weight lifting example above. But you definitely need to put in some long days if you want to reach your full potential in an event that can take 8 or more continuous hours. My logic going into Kona, that I could “wing it” because I had pushed my upper limits very high, was completely disrespectful to the sport. The reality is that I did not put in the time, and I paid the price because of it: a 23 kilometer shuffle of shame.