Ironman Switzerland - Zurich, June 2006

Like many in the club, Ian Collins has a background in triathlon. Having tackled the cycling challenges of the Ardechoise and the Marmotte, he realised that he wanted to put this endurance into a new challenge...

I had always told myself that doing an Ironman was insane. I’d done several Olympic and sprint distance tris and enjoyed them but going for the long distance event always seemed to be beyond me. Having failed to beat 4 hours in the London marathon in 2001, I couldn’t conceive of swimming 3.8km, then biking 180km and yet still having to do a full marathon at the end.

So what changed my mind? No idea really. I completed several tough cyclo-sportif events in 2005, culminating in getting a gold medal in the Marmotte (comfortably within the time limit by 40 minutes, although the last hour had been a suffer fest owing to not having eaten enough). So I knew I had reasonable fitness and by the end of August 2005, something just started to niggle away at me when by coincidence a clubmate from the Pédale des Eaux-Vives mentioned perhaps doing his second Ironman. I rashly decided to give it a shot and we decided that Zurich was the most convenient location for us, being only a three hour drive from Geneva.

From the end of August 2005 to the beginning of July 2006, I reckon I thought about the Ironman at the very least once a day. I had told myself that I would not sacrifice any bike races or events or change my training pattern to a great extent. I was not prepared to forgo cycling for triathlon but I reckoned I could get by with some modest tweaks. But even in the middle of a race or cyclo-sportif, I would often find myself thinking about how effective this was being for Ironman preparation.

I doubt anybody is interested in the minutiae of my training programme and there is no secret to the preparation for a long distance triathlon. Unsurprisingly, it consisted of lots of swimming, cycling and running. But some of you out there may wonder what general volumes I did. I swam with the Geneva Tri club twice a week, minimum 2.5km a session though it was often more like 3.5km. This tended to destroy my confidence from time to time as I was in the pool with people much better than me. And the difficulty with swimming is that you don’t get faster simply by putting more effort in and “beasting” it…that’s usually a recipe only for exhaustion. I never swam anything like 3.8km without stopping (we followed very precise schedules with the club and most sets were never more than 400m long), though I did know I could make the distance having done a sponsored non-stop 5km swim a couple of years ago. But I tended to forget about swimming to be honest. It is so much easier in a wetsuit and I’ve found people over-emphasise the difficulty of open-water racing. As long as you keep looking up every now and again to see where you are going, it’s not that difficult.

As for biking, I just continued to train as normal, racking up the winter miles wrapped up against the Swiss winter and building strength on the track. I went on a late winter training camp with my club for a week and then trained hard and raced from April. Again, I often ride with people much better than me and so my club’s twice weekly 2.5 hour training sessions provided all the high-intensity work with me biting the handlebars to keep from being dropped on the climbs. I did 4 cyclo-sportifs, including the 216km route of the Ardéchoise and trained on my own or with my training partner a few times a week.

I have always run quite a lot for general fitness and even before the Ironman preparation started, I was doing around 20-30km a week. From August to April, I did around 30-35km a week, then stepped it up a bit after that, trying to do at least one long run of over 16km every week or two weeks. By the end of June I had done about 6 runs of over 21km, including one of 34km, either alone or with my training partner.

As we got nearer the event, we would often ride for a few hours then do a shortish run immediately afterwards to train ourselves for the transition in the event. But although I knew I should be doing lots of brick sessions and probably some warm-up tris, to be honest I couldn’t be arsed. They are boring and interfere with proper cycling so I just told myself I’d suffer the transition and run leg when it came. The most I ever ran after a 90km plus ride was 16km… As the big day got nearer, I often regretted this decision but told myself I had made a conscious decision to do it this way and had to live with the consequences.

I didn’t keep a training diary for 2005 but as from January 2006 until the beginning of July, I had done: 108.2km of swimming, 5,813km of cycling, 852km of running plus 133km of indoor rowing and 10 hours on the turbo trainer.

The last two weeks before the Ironman were spent worrying and trying to rest. I gave myself added stress by only putting the tri bars on my bike 10 days before the event and then trying to adapt my riding position to be as aerodynamic as possible without being too uncomfortable. Again, I knew this was pretty stupid and that it may cost me but I have always hated training specifically for time-trialling and was just not prepared to do it just for the Ironman. As we rode the bike course the day before the event, it was only the fourth ride with tri bars I had done all year.

I was fairly convinced I would finish the event as long as there were no unforeseen problems and barring real injury. I wanted to do under 12 hours and would have been slightly disappointed if I had gone over this. I felt I should be capable of pushing myself to under 11 hours yet I had no real idea if this was a realistic goal, seeing as I’d never done even a half-Ironman event before. So the days and hours before the event were taken up with worrying about logisitical issues such as food and kit but also whether in pushing myself to go under 11 hours, I might be sacrificing the chance of finishing at all.

As I lined up on the beach leading into lake Zurich at 7.00 am, I was genuinely terrified for a few seconds but the gun then went and the classic tri experience of swimming with 1500 other people in a washing machine took over. Having done a few tris in open water, thankfully I was used to having people kicking me, swimming over the top of me and generally the mayhem of the start. But I settled into a rhythm quite quickly and just concentrated on keeping loose and not expending too much energy. It passed in a whirl and before I knew it I was being helped out of the water and up the ramp into the transition area. I took my time and made sure I was fully equipped before getting on the bike and probably lost several minutes. However, I figured that in the long run I might save time by relaxing a little bit and I felt pretty good as I steered onto the first of three 60km bike loops.

I had good sensations in my legs and found myself doing 40km/h without going anywhere near the red. I knew I could not keep up this average because of the lumpy parcours but on the flat I managed to ride the whole 180km between 38 and 42km/h. However, there were three nasty-ish climbs, the first 5km long, and I made a conscious effort to save myself. This brought my overall average down considerably but I felt it was the safest option. Despite this, I still found myself passing lots of triathletes grinding away on huge gears and disc wheels in aero tucks on the ascents. It was quite comical. I was also amused at times to look behind me and see a long line of riders on my wheel despite drafting being strictly disallowed.

The organisation was incredible, with bidons of water, energy mix and cola being handed up at the food stations, enabling you to throw away your empty bottles Tour de France stylee before the feed zones. Gels, bars and other stuff was also handed to you which meant I didn’t put my feet on the floor once until I got off the bike for the run. The atmosphere was also truly incredible with thousands of supporters out cheering the racers on. The final climb was a short but brutal 1km ramp called Heartbreak Hill by the organisers, along which there were people waiting 3 deep. There was room only for one bike to pass through the middle as the crowds went mental, as close to riding a Pyrennean Tour stage as I am ever going to get.

Despite my lack of training in a time trial position, I did not feel too uncomfortable and although my shoulders and neck ached, it was not worse than during a normal six hour ride. My legs felt great and at the end of the ride I felt I could have gone on longer. Unfortunately, I now had to run instead, the thing I had been dreading the most.

I left the transition area knowing I was on for a time under 11 hours as long as I could keep a steady pace. I love riding in the heat but the 30 degree temperatures on the run course made things hard going. But the organisers yet again came up trumps with hundreds of volunteers handing out cold sponges, water and gels plus energy mix, Red Bull (!), cola and dried fruit etc. I had been eating a bar or a sandwich every hour on the bike and now switched to an energy gel every 30 mins plus copious amounts of water throughout.

Supporters continued to line the course, shouting out your name as you went past (your race number also gave your first name). This was incredibly motivating and helped a lot. There was also a great camaraderie amongst the runners, everyone encouraging those slacking or praising those doing well.

The first 21km were hard but bearable. The next 10km were very, very hard and the final push for the line was at times close to excruciating. But the tyranny of my watch kept me going as I counted down the four 10.5km laps, collecting wrist bands to gauge my progress after each one. With just two kilometres to go, I got what must have been my seventh or eighth wind and upped the pace slightly. My wife and son had been cheering me all along the run course and the thought of seeing them at the finish line inspired me to get to a sprint of sorts for the final 50m. As I crossed the line the announcer shouted “Ian Collins, you are an Ironman!” and never have I felt so emotional at the end of a sporting event when my family came to congratulate me. As I write this, I doubt I will ever want to put myself through the pain of those final 10km again but the experience was worth the physical effort and even the mental strain.

For the record, my final time was 10 hours 38mins, 33.2 seconds. My swim was 1 hr 10, bike 5 hours 22 and run 3 hours 52, with transition times of 5.43 and 7 mins (so slow!). I was happy with my swim and bike time and delighted with my run time as it broke the all-important 4 hour mark. But before I could get too pleased with myself, I learnt the winner had got round in just under 8 hours 17 mins, with the best woman in 9 hours 24. But one of the great things about triathlon is that you are effectively racing your own race even though you are competing alongside the elite athletes. All in all a great experience. It’s not for the faint hearted but much more possible than I had previously thought. Other competitors in all shapes and sizes continued to come through the finish line until 11pm, each battling their own private pain but it was amazing to see them finish, emphasising that you can make your body do amazing things, well beyond what you thought possible simply through desire and bloody-mindedness. That may be a truism but Ironman certainly proves it to you in case you had any doubts. Someone mentioned there are triple Ironman events too……