IM Frankfurt: La Grande's race

Saturday night, 7 July, and I’m lying in bed to try and get some good sleep before the big day. It has been a very long build up – 33 weeks since November – and tomorrow is the day where everything comes together. Or not. I’m trying to focus on all the good training I’ve done, the laughs we’ve had in our “duel”, and the great support I have received from everyone around me (you know who you are :-)). But still there is that dread that always overcomes me before a big race.

 Training had gone extremely well, thanks to my coach Alan I was in the best shape of my life. No injuries and with “juice” in the tank. For the first time a lot of friends and family were at the race and I was racing with four of my colleagues from the club - my "duel" buddy Alain, Steffen, Seb, and Christoph. It would be interesting how things would turn out.

At 4:15 the alarm kicks Alain and me out of deep sleep. Unexpectedly I had found some rest rather than tossing and turning all night – a sign of confidence? Quietly we eat our breakfast, get dressed, apply sunscreen, and pack our things to get to transition. The weather forecast announces cool and dry weather, which I’m excited about, given my difficulties on the run when it gets hot. I leave my rain gear behind only to regret it later…

We make our way into transition where the usual flurry of activity awaits: 2,500 guys and girls are pumping tires, attaching gels to their bikes, laying out their shoes, and completing all the little rituals one has before a race. I finish getting my bike ready when a first little panic hits: shit – I’ve forgotten my heart rate belt in the hotel. Being the data nerd that I am I like to have it during the race to avoid going to fast, especially on the beginning of the bike and the run. Luckily Lauren, my dad, and Julian are still at the hotel and Lauren brings me the HR monitor in good time before the race. Phew. Mini crisis averted :-).

Alain, Steffen, and the pros set off at 6:45. I’m in the water looking at the mass of red swim caps that will all set off with me. The start is the moment I’m most afraid of – the flurry of inadvertent kicks and punches that a hoard of over eager, competitive athletes can produce is impressive. I hang onto the buoy that should mark the end of the start line and things fill up around me. People are elbow to elbow and everyone wants to be in the best position. Referees in kayaks are keeping us behind the line by going back and forth just in front of us. 30 seconds to go.

All of a sudden the referees start inching away. I drift forward and suddenly someone next to me starts swimming hard. I put my head down and it’s go! I’m waiting for the kicks and punches to come. 100m, 200m, 400m, and I’m still swimming without getting hammered. YES!

The rest of the swim is a pretty pleasant affair. A few bumps here and there as other swimmers and I cross paths, but nothing major. As I get out of the water I look at the watch – less than 57min! Way slower than Alain, of course, but faster than I had dared to hope. A first big smile crosses my face and I tell myself this will be a good day!

Off onto the bike: the bunch is still closely together and I’m watching carefully to stay at a legal distance. A 6 minute penalty really isn’t what I want. After a few kilometers I see Seb up ahead and smile again – we can ride together, he is a very strong guy and should keep me honest and working hard. The first 30km go by very fast as the road is flat, people are eager, and there is much to do as we are settling in: watch your pacing, be careful not to draft, get some food in.

As we leave Frankfurt we hit the first few hills. The course is flat and fast overall, but there are three slightly steeper hills plus a little section of very bumpy cobble stones to master. Unfortunately the weather report was wrong and the first drops come down. Nothing bad so far and apart from the wet road I’m happy about the cool weather.

The first lap goes by pretty fast: there are still plenty of people around which makes the race fast even if there is no gratuitous drafting. The rain gets stronger, though, and the wind picks up. I’m starting to get uncomfortably cold and am cursing myself for not having given my rain gear to David who will be waiting at km 110 with a bottle of race “food”. My fingers are getting stiff and I am starting to shiver a bit. On the way back into Frankfurt the rain is pounding down and I have to laugh at the Dantesque conditions: I had made such careful plans to be prepared for bad weather and now I had nothing to keep me warm.

The rest of the bike gets increasingly lonely as many of those who started fast are fading. Unfortunately Seb disappeared around km 70 and I find out later that he had a flat he couldn’t repair :-(. My legs are still good and I keep pushing, steadily moving up and passing small groups at regular intervals. After 150km I feel the first signs of fatigue: my legs are starting to get painful, it’s really hard to keep the power on. The rain has mercifully stopped in the meantime, but the wind is in our faces as we head back to town. The last 30km are tough, but the final downhill towards transition is a nice reward. The sun is shining again and I spot Julian on the last meters of the bike snapping pictures: tongue out, big grin, that’s the way! I roll into transition after 4h55 on the bike.

Getting off the bike in transition is always a funny affair. Your legs are not prepared for running and so I waddle towards my transition bags. The friendly volunteers help me find the bag and out come the shoes, socks, and visor. I get out on the run, hit the lap button and off we are on the marathon. The conditions are pretty nice by now: it’s windy and sunny, but not hot. The atmosphere is awesome: as I run down the red carpet around transition both sides are lined by spectators urging the runners on. Every now and then I hear “auf geht’s” “go Nicolas” “andale” or “vas-y.”

 In my 2 Ironman races to date I had suffered on the run, like so many others: you start out and at some point hit a huge wall. From then on it’s a tough grind to the finish line. The worst feeling in my last races was when my stomach called it quits and decided it would not accept any more food: a strong feeling of nausea paired with no energy – yeehah!

The idea for Frankfurt was to go with a new approach and to drink flat coke with a bit of salt and water at the end of every mile. After 500m of the race Lauren hands me the first bottle and I’m off. Nervously I check my watch as people fly by me left and right: the goal is to keep a pace around 4:40min/km, which would mean a 3h20 marathon. My plan before the race for the four laps was: lap 1 – run easy, lap 2 – run steady, lap 3 – don’t slow down, lap 4 – run the shit out of it :-). If everything works well that would mean an even pace throughout.

The first lap is really quite pleasant: the weather is good and I feel like I’m jogging really slowly, actually I have to keep myself from running faster. Soon enough I cross the second of two bridges and am heading back to the finish where Lauren, Julian, and my dad await and I get my second bottle of coke. I check my watch: 49:48 – on pace. The second lap is also pretty nice. I’m itching to run faster but imagine my coach Alan looking over my shoulder and I keep myself in check. Lap 2: 49:39. We repeat the same game of swap the bottle and I’m off again.

It’s the third lap now and things are starting to get tougher. David and Mel pop out at different places on the course and scream encouragement at me, sending shivers down my spine. I hear that I’m catching Alain and that I’m ahead of Steffen – something I never expected. On the second bridge I spot Alain and he’s not too far ahead anymore. I am hoping to catch him, but “Monsieur diesel” doesn’t show any signs of wanting to slow down. Lap 3: 49:53.

The last lap is supposed to be tough and it lives up to its promises. Running up to the bridges is no longer easy, but I’m gritting my teeth. By now my quads feel like they are filled with acid and there is this weird slapping sound on every step: I guess my running form is gone.

Down off the last bridge, over the cobbles, I pick up the last armband and it’s off to the finish. I push as hard as I can and am too afraid to look back if anybody is catching me. The run down the finishing chute is amazing and as I cross the line the clock stops at 9h17m51s. I am exhausted and stunned: it really happened. The race that I had hoped I would be able to do. 3h19m56s for the marathon, steady as a clock. Behind the finish line I find Lauren, Julian, my dad, Alain, David, Mel, Karen and Alain’s mom and from then on it’s huge smiles, big emotions and very sore legs.

It has now been four days since the race and I’m still on cloud nine. The journey to this race was amazing, with a lot of hard work, early mornings, and tiredness, but also amazing camaraderie and support. I cannot say thank you enough Lauren, Florian, my family, and all my friends who have been very patient and supportive throughout the whole process. It feels a bit weird and empty to have finished this big project, but there are new adventures awaiting for the Semper Barbatus crew.

Spirit of the mustache!