About IMRoycer81

Richmond, Virginia, United States
Thanks for visiting! I'm a civil litigator at KPMLaw. I attended Cornell where I swam IM and Breastroke. In 2007 I filled the void of swimming retirement with triathlon. In my first tri I thought, "holy sh*t this is painful" and "when can I do it again?" Things escalated quickly and my first half iron was in Augusta 2009 and my first full iron was Louisville 2011. Since 2007 I've been chasing a dream of qualifying for the World Champs in Kona, Hawaii. Prior to September 2017 this blog focused on attempts (and failures) to achieve an elusive KQ. I got the monkey off my back in my 10th Ironman at Chattanooga in 2017. I was fortunate to qualify again in 2022. There is always room to improve, and I look forward to putting in the work to become a consistent podium finisher. I couldn't do any of this without my amazing family. I am lucky to train in a fantastic triathlon town with inspirational athletes. My job, training, and daughters keep me busy, but I update as often as I can. I'm always willing to share the knowledge I've picked up along the way. Thanks for reading!

Sunday, November 12, 2023

Prepare Until it's Mundane (and hope for a lil Doodle Power )

 Ironman Florida Race Report (11/4/23)

9:12:36 (lifetime best)
15th Male 40-44
43rd Overall Amateur

The Build/Pre-Race
After getting my Kona Slot at Chattanooga last year, and deferring to 2024, 2023 was about playing with house money.  I set sights on Ironman Florida with the crazy notion a great day could produce a sub 9 hour result. I've come a long way mentally and emotionally over the past 24 months.  At the end of 2021, I was ready to quit the sport, there was no joy in competing, and I was training and racing simply because that's what I've always done.  Much like swimming in my past life, my identity was inexorably tied to being a triathlete.  If not successful at this, what am I?!?  I was crippled by imposter syndrome, and no external data point could convince me otherwise.  This is objectively silly because the true measure of my life is measured by my family.  I'm blessed with an incredible wife, kids, sisters, and in-laws, and I'm sure their love for me has zero connection with athletics...but the space between my ears is a live minefield, and the gift of being analytical is also the curse of being analytical.  

I doubled down on therapy, hired a sports psychologist, and made a coaching change, all of which were  tinged with uncertainty at the time.  The investment paid enormous dividends, and I no longer resemble the athlete or person I was just a short time ago.  I've made key changes in how I view myself, and training, and it served me well.  My new mantra is to be 1% better than yesterday...every single day.  Attempting to be great month over month and year over year is daunting, but being a modest amount better than yesterday feels achievable.  To borrow a sher(pa)-ism, "How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time!"

If I have a bad day, no biggie, I have the chance to be 1% better tomorrow.  The true gold is finding honesty and consistency in training day-in and day-out.  In living this mindset, it is so much easier to rack up daily wins, and my confidence has grown exponentially.  It has given me the freedom to adapt sessions around family responsibilities and the realities of getting older.  Some days a 42 year old body is a dumpster fire, and most importantly, I never want to sacrifice family time/responsibilities for my hobby.  

I never take breaks, but I've learned to take easy days really easy.  I've become more durable and able to attack hard days.  This is most evident in my run training.  The former king of the "grey zone" has become a devout disciple of low and slow HR training (Sorry Dan Szajta, I'm a slow learner).  I now place a premium on sleep, and my body has rewarded me immeasurably.  I go to bed when the kids go to bed, and I LOVE it.  It is not uncommon to go to bed at 8 or 8:30.  I'm able to get a solid 8-9 hours sleep and get up early to train in a way that doesn't negatively impact my family (historically not my strong suit).  Without question, the most impactful thing I've done is establish a gratitude practice.  I keep a journal and have not missed a day since I started almost two years ago.  In the beginning, I was so negative that conjuring up three "gratitudes" was a monumental undertaking.  Now my gratitudes flow like a waterfall.  I strongly believe it's not enough to simply think about being grateful. The magic happens when you physically write it down and speak it into existence.  If I could recommend one thing to anyone trying to improve their life, it would be to keep a gratitude journal.  My journal has re-wired my brain in such a way that I'm no longer such a pessimist, and it has done wonders to keep my depression at bay.

I recently saw a Kenny Smith quote on TikTok that resonated with my goals. "Champions do daily what everybody else does occasionally. You're not extraordinary, you just do the ordinary extra.  That's it.  That's what separates you."  I am the champion of exactly nothing, but I can be a champion at doing ordinary extra, and I attempt to do so every day. This was the best build I've ever done for an Ironman.  No hero workouts, no fireworks, just solid consistent work day after day... having the discipline to repeat ordinary each day.  I've not missed a day of training since September of 2022, and I am the most healthy and injury free I've been in years.  

After deciding not to do Jones Beach 70.3 (due to a Hurricane), I pivoted into my Ironman block.  I was able to string together multiple 18 hour weeks and nail the focus of every session.  I genuinely don't remember a single workout that didn't hit.  That's not to say there weren't hard/mentally draining days, but even those ended successfully.  With each session (particularly the long bricks), I felt a good day was becoming more and more inevitable.  The beauty of the incremental approach is the gift of making really hard things seem simultaneously possible and mundane. In fact, leading into the race, my biggest hope was to be so prepared that executing my dream day would feel pedestrian and anti-climactic.

Before traveling to Florida, I celebrated Halloween with my family, and I must say we nailed the family Barbie costumes.  I have the unfair advantage of being married to the real Barbie...sorry not sorry Margot, she just is.  The flight was uneventful, and I enjoyed a few days in Florida with Mom and Dad leading into the race.  The first few days were Mom and I, which was quite lovely because we never get the opportunity to spend time just the two of us.  I enjoyed the best part of an Ironman week, connecting with great friends.  I got to hang with Ed Boyle, Bryan Schleppy, and catch up with Matt Davis.  Bryan was kind enough to let team Royce join team Schleppy for dinner one night and it was lovely meeting his parents, his brother, Jeff (also a bad ass athlete) and his partner Sam (fresh off Kona in her own right).  A significant part of the beauty of this crazy sport is people.  I've met and become friends with the most inspiring individuals.  I have endless respect for anyone willing to test themselves for months only to voluntarily accept 9 to 17 hours of immense physical and emotional suffering for a medal and a few slices of pizza.  

Truthfully, the physical ability to suffer is the gift.  I take an inordinate amount of pride in knowing every part of myself. During the course of an Ironman I meet all facets of personality, good and bad.  To quote Jim Valvano, "If you laugh, you think, and you cry, that's a full day. That's a heck of day!" Every Ironman  has played out this way.  I've laughed, cried, thought, and felt every emotion.  What a gift! Every race, good or bad, is a heck of day!  I know exactly what I'm made of, and I'm willing to push far enough to know if those goalposts can continue to move further outward.  So few people avail themselves of this opportunity.  I realise that Ironman is not for everyone, but I encourage everyone to find ways to push their limits in a way that fits their interests and passions.  The good stuff is always just on the other side of the canyon.

Despite having done this a million times, the 48 hours leading into the race is predictable.  The same two negative thought bubbles break the surface: 1) you are too fat to go fast, and 2) the task before you is so enormous that you (i.e. me) are not prepared to face it.  Neither of these things are true, but pesky facts don't keep the mental gremlins at bay. I shamelessly asked mom and dad to confirm I hadn't put on 20 pounds during taper, and utilised mindfulness techniques to get me over the hump (another amazing tool I have added to my arsenal), and I felt calm(ish) as the last sleep closed in. 
The night before the race was the 8 year anniversary of my Uncle Bob's suicide (my dad called him Doodle).  Honestly, I feel ashamed to admit this hadn't crossed my radar until I saw an emotional social post from my sister.  But when it hit me, my goal of sub 9 came into focus more sharply, and decided I would strive to put up a time with an 8 in front of it to honour his passing and impact on our lives.  Uncle Doodle would be with me all day, and I'm thankful for that (more on that to come). 

If you have made it this far, you deserve a gold star for surviving my pontificating.  I appreciate you hanging with me, and without further adieu, on to the race!!!!

Swim: 55:48

Slept well (by pre-race standards), and alarm was set for 4:15.  I woke minutes before the alarm and immediately ate 100g of carbs (oatmeal).  I added a bit of trail mix for a modicum of protein, fat and fiber.  I went to transition, checked my bike and bags, and came back to the hotel for about an hour. I mostly stared into space watching the clock tick away and tried to get myself into the right head space.  Dad and I headed to the beach at about 6:15 to prepare for the 6:50 a.m. start.  I sipped half a Maurten 320 right up to swim start (40g carbs).  Dad and I got separated before start cannon, but shortly before my corral was led to the water, we found each other, made eye contact, and he took one of my favourite race pictures ever.  I was calm and ready to execute. I gave him the A-OK sign and did a quick breathing exercise.

 
The swim course is a two loop rectangle going around a pier.  The pier was quite helpful for sighting purposes and allowed me to swim really efficient lines.  The plan was to stay loose and easy, burn no matches, and engage cruise control.  The sun rising over my shoulder was spectacular.  Most of the swim I watched the sun rise and enjoyed the privilege of my swim background affording the ability to swim well while enjoying my surroundings.  The soft sand run on the beach between loops was tiring and definitely caused a HR/lactate spike, and the second loop was way more crowded as I overlapped with later corrals.  There was a crazy amount of jellyfish at the far end of the course.  It was like swimming through ghosts.  It was wild!  Most of them were small, but I saw a few big mamas out there.  I was happy to be wearing a wetsuit to protect from unwanted stings.

The second loop went by much faster than the second.  On the way back towards the beach I had the first of several conversations with Doodle.  I'm not religious (in fact quite the opposite), but felt compelled to talkwith him.  I thanked him for being with me, and hoped he was enjoying the sunrise with me.  What a morning Doodle! Help me have a day! 

I exited the swim right on target and made my way through transition which included a long run up the beach and across the street. I hit the change tent and immediately took a Maurten 100 gel (25g carbs).  Time to settle in for 112 fast miles!

Bike: 4:37:14, 24.3 mph, Avg HR 135, Avg Power 230

I've worked tirelessly to become quite strong on the bike over the last 10 years.  I'm capable of throwing down big watts, but have learned that the real value of bike strength is the ability to be fast while holding back plenty for the run.  My strategy was entirely HR and carb based.  I was to ride between 130-135 BPM with a HR cap of 135.  Power was a secondary metric, and based on data should have equated to a range of 240-260 Watts.  I anticipated that large draft packs would form due to the pancake flat topography, and resigned to stick to my plan and not pull anyone along.  In terms of calories, I aimed for 100-110g of carbohydrate/hour. I pulled out all the aero accoutrements including a bottle down the jersey, aero calf sleeves, ice friction chain, EZ Gains chain ring cover, and sparkly new Premier 90 front wheel with Continental TT rubber front and back.

My caloric breakdown was as follows: 
Hour 1: Maurten 320 (80g carb), Maurten 100 gel (25g carb), sip Gatorade Endurance (44g carb), and as much water as I could swallow through the aid stations (started the bike with 3 pre-mixed bottles of 320)
Hour 2-3: Same
Hour 4- Bike Finish: focus on Gatorade Endurance with three Maurten Gels

I handled intake well with no stomach discomfort or bloating.  I've trained myself to handle 100g/hr comfortably, and moving forward I can continue to push the body up to 120g/hour (maybe more).  The ability to cram additional carbs has paid huge dividends in my ability to not sh*t the bed on the run.  With benefit of hindsight, I know the vast majority of my race efforts were VASTLY under fueled.  One oddity was that despite moderate temps, I peed ALOT.  I peed about 7 times during the course of the ride.  I was concerned it would throw my electrolytes out of balance, but this fear would not come to bear.

The bike race played out both expectedly and unexpectedly.  The whole ride I was thinking "I am riding so easy, I want to ride harder", but I stayed disciplined and stuck to the script.  As anticipated, packs formed (though earlier than I was anticipating).  There were many strong swimmers (also strong riders) so a pack formed within 20 miles.  I became stuck in a group of about 25-35 guys with pro females amongst us. Unexpected was 90% of the athletes in this group were racing fair.  Anyone familiar with an Ironman bike course knows they often degrade into draft tests with rampant cheating.  However, this group was surprisingly honest.  It didn't hurt we had two draft marshals with us the entire time.  One at the front and one at the rear of the line.  Fairness and honesty was a welcome change of pace.

The result of all this sportsmanship was a line of riders strung out for what seemed like a quarter mile.  This meant there was no way to get free without burning major matches.  To get to the front would have required a 15-20 minute effort way above Ironman pace.  I resigned myself to stay off the back and ride legal.  At times it got very frustrating hanging off the back feeling like I was out for a coffee cruise, but the flip side is that there was a huge aerodynamic benefit despite legal distancing  This is borne out in my average power of 230 which was about 10 watts lower than what it should have been for the given HR.

Though the course was flat, there were inevitable sections where a headwind/bridge crossing/slight incline would cause the line to accordion, so despite being a flat course, the ride was a bit more "surge-y" than I would have liked.  Staying off the back meant each time the line started to stretch I would have to surge to keep 2 bike lengths off the back.  This may have had some impact on the back half of the run, but I managed as best I could.

Coach and I agreed to not even consider "racing" until at least mile 75 of the ride.  When I arrived at the final turn around, I decided it was time to make a Maurten move 👀😅😅👀.  I had stayed disciplined and was ready for a dig.  The final stretch into town is slightly downhill with a tailwind.  I let it rip for about 10-15 minutes and got away from the group.  I was flying!!! There are few feelings that equate to riding a bike really fast.... the freedom, the exhilaration, it's quite a rush.  It felt good knowing I had power in reserve and could ride away from strong riders if necessary.  However, after settling back into pace, the group dynamics were too strong and a smaller group of about 15 re-formed.  Again, everyone staying legal (what a mitzvah!!).  I got back on the HR train and fell to the back of the line and remained there until the end of the ride.  It was time to start thinking about a strong marathon.  We were coming up on Doodle time... let's go for a run!!!!

Run: 3:29:27, 7:59/mile, Avg HR 145
1st Half- 1:44:12 (1 bathroom stop)
2nd Half- 1:45;15 (1 bathroom stop)

Running into transition I was STIFF.  I was actually worried since I had ridden so conservatively, but the body warmed up quickly, and by the time I was on the run course proper, the body started to loosen up.  Strategically, an Ironman doesn't really start until the second half of an Ironman marathon.  In honesty, I've never had a well executed Ironman marathon.  I've had a few with good 20 mile efforts, but none where I was well and truly racing in the last 10K.  Last year at Chattanooga was my closest, but there was still room to grow.

Again, the plan was entirely HR and carb based.  Plan to run at 145 BPM (150 BPM HR cap) and consume 60g of carbs per hour.  The first half marathon was supposed to feel like an easy endurance run so I could turn the screw on the back half.  Pacing 8:15-8:30/mile.

Nutritionally, I executed as follows:
Hours 1-3: Maurten 160 (40g carbs) at :30, 1:30, 2:30, Maurten 100 (25g carbs) at :60, 2:00, 3:00.  Alternate gatorade/coke/water for hydration/caffeine.
Last 30 min: whatever it takes!!!!

The course is a 6.5 mile out and back along the beach road.  Nothing fancy, dial and flow.  Despite feeling a little stiff, my HR went to 145-150, but I was too fast.  First mile was 7:20, and as enticing it was to let it ride, I hit the brakes.  In fact, I deliberately went into the bathroom at Mile 2 to bring the HR down and get my pace into check.  This would turn out to be a smart decision.  My HR normalised at 145 and I was running just slightly above target pace.  I focused entirely on nutrition and run form.  In the last 6 months I have spent a lot of time on run drills and it's paying dividends.  My form held and my body would degrade far less on the back half.  

Much like the bike, the front half felt almost too easy, and I noticed that during the second half of the first lap my HR was coming down and so was my pace...win/win!  I was also starting to feel great.  At the turn, I was feeling good and felt inspired to talk to Doodle.  I asked if he could help me get to mile 20 feeling strong, I would race that last 10K for him.  When I passed dad, I let him know I was thinking of him (you can hear me say "Uncle Bob" as I ran by).

I was in a flow state from miles 13-18.  My HR was locked in at 145 and my pace was dropping.  Eat, drink, form check...repeat.  Check the boxes, be racing at mile 20.  During this section, visions of a massive negative split were dancing like endurance fairies through my head.

Predictably, pain began to set in at mile 18, but it was manageable, and by mile 22-23 it was gut check time.  There is no way for me to accurately describe the hell your body feels when it decides it's had enough 8.5 hours into a race.  Every fiber of your body, mind and soul is screaming at you stop, but Doodle got me to 20 ready to race, and I wasn't about to renege on my mission statement.  I got a touch desperate as the discomfort increased exponentially, and started grabbing everything in the aid stations.  I accidentally grabbed a Red Bull (which I never drink because it's disgusting), and it made me feel significantly better.  The rest of the rest of the way it was Red Bull... I guess I'm a convert, because it gave me wings when I needed them most.  

Miles 23-25 were truly awful. I started having hamstring cramps and was running on a knife edge.  I had to continuously alter my gait to keep the lockdown at bay, but against all odds was able to do so.  My pace slowed, but I never stopped.  My disastrous miles were two 8:20's back to back (previously unheard of for me). Dreams of a negative split were gone, but I was keeping pace, and an even split was possible!!!  I knew my best was on display, and was wringing everything out of myself those last miles.  I never once looked at my overall time because slavish execution was my guide.  I assumed I would be north of 9 hours, but "felt" I may get under 9:10.  Let the chips fall where they may.

I was able to dial pace down in the final mile under 8:00/mile, and crossed the finish chute completely gassed.  I emptied the tank.  I gave everything to honour Uncle Bob.  This was the deepest I've gone in race.  It felt so awful, but so rewarding to showcase months of work.  I am so proud which is not something I say about myself easily.  I wasn't sub 9, but it was a lifetime best by 6 minutes.  It included my best marathon with an even split to boot.  I previously thought this was a pipe dream.  I'm left with the feeling, that I can and will negative split an Ironman marathon.  I also know my best performances are in front of me and I am hungry for more.  That is a pretty exceptional feeling in my 40s.

I've spent this week doing lots of active recovery.  My poor dog is in the best shape of his life.  We have walked up a storm, and it's allowed me to bounce back quickly.  I've started easing back into running, and it is now officially trail running season.  This year was a success on every level, and has inspired me toward even bigger goals for next year culminating with Kona next October.  

As always, thank you for reading.  These blog posts are a ton of work, but help me process my successes, failures and emotions.  It always amazes me that anyone is willing to read them.  I appreciate every person who supports, encourages me, and is interested enough to follow my journey.  As always, I am an open book and happy to discuss anything about my life, training, racing, preparation, mental health, etc.  I love to share my mistakes, what I've learned, and help anyone in anyway I can.

I hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving and Holiday season.  Thanks for reading!












Friday, September 30, 2022

Episode 16 ("A New Hope")

Let's Start With Mantras and Gratitude

"Enjoy It, You Can Do It, I'm Ready for You"

I am a firm believer that no person is an island, and success is only possible as a result of love and support of friends, family, and coaches.  I would be remiss if I didn't dedicate this race report to the friends and family that nursed me back to sporting health and enabled me to find joy again.  Without further ado, thank you to Brittany, Sloanie, and Chandler bear.  The fulfillment I get as a husband and father is my chief source of happiness and self worth.  Thank you to Dida and SherPa who have been tirelessly supporting my pursuits, and schlepping me around the world since the late 80's.  Thank you to my siblings Jacko, Lum Lum, RD (aka Rocky Balboner), and Bobby Bondurant.  Your love and support is always felt from near and far.  Jacko has been at both of my KQ races...there might be some special magic there :) 

Thank you to my mother in law, Amy, and her beau, Giani.  Your help in watching our girls enables my crazy work and training schedule.  Thank you to my childhood swim coach (and lucky charm), Jeanna Bouzek.  How many people still have their coach from when they were 8 cheering them on at races at age 41?!?!?! Thank you to my dear friends and training partners, Graham, Joe, Chris, Steve, Jason, Ian, Alden, and Trey.  We have put in many miles together and they are the ultimate hype men.  Thank you to Bryan Schleppy, a friend I made in 2019 at Ironman Chattanooga, and despite barely knowing each other, has always had my back and was so kind and generous during our stay in Chatt.  Thank you to Katy McBryar and her boys, Eli and Baker.  They hosted my wife and kids and drove them to like 15 different spots on the course.  Your generosity made my race unequivocally less stressful and more fun.  Thank you to Eric Limkemann, my coach of the previous 8 years.  His work got me to a world class level I could not have reached alone.

Thank you to Matt Hurley of Wyld Endurance, my coach and dear friend.  You have coached my body and mind to new levels, and unlocked something in me I thought was lost.  I feel like having you as a coach is like having a triathlon cheat code (you are the up/up/down/down/left/right/left/right/B/A/B/A/ select/start of coaches...#IFYKYK), and I can't wait to see what we can do moving forward.  Thank you to Dr. Paul Knackstedt, my sports psychologist.  You helped me understand and re-frame my relationship to sport and to myself.  You enabled me to do something that is not easy for me....race with a smile on my face while having confidence.  You also gave me the tools to accept what I can control and how I can react to situations.  Words can't describe how much you have helped me.

A Series of Unfortunate Events

I've been involved in endurance sport for a loooong time... 35 years if you count my pre-triathlon swimming career.  The only period I wasn't actively involved in endurance sport was 2005-2007 when I hadn't yet discovered triathlon.  Unfortunately, for my wife, I did (Sorry Britt, I love you!).  My first Ironman was 2011, and I think Chattanooga was my 16th attempt.  I'm sure I could ascertain the actual number, but for the sake of ease let's call it lucky number 16.

I've made no secret of my recent history with the sport.  After breaking through in late 2017, I had a string of forgettable races.  In fact, my last Ironman attempt in 2019 ended with me lying on the side of the road waiting for medical.  In hindsight, I was overcooked physically and mentally.  I was chasing outcomes and expecting to feel fulfilled.  There was no joy, just checking boxes.  I had an unhealthy focus on times/placing/podiums.  Every race soured feelings toward myself and the sport.  I had no confidence, was having no fun, and was training and racing as a matter of habit more than a matter of choice.  Addiction to fitness is real, and I have it.  

I've been open about my mental health struggles which are often inextricably tied to my sporting pursuits.  I have had bouts of depression since college, and for the last five years, occasional episodes of anxiety.  Often my downward cycles are triggered by a bad result, poor training, or injury.  My negativity culminated last fall at Waco 70.3.  After having a strong swim and bike, and being among the lead amateurs on the run, I quit.  I can say that now with no reservations.  Despite objectively being in a good position on course, I could not physically will myself to keep going.  I was trapped in a negative thought vortex and had no fight left to give.  The shame and guilt associated with "quitting" forced me to take a real hard look at myself.  It was time to either move away from the sport or change my preparation.  If I were to continue, I would need some serious help.  Enter the super team of Matt Hurley and Dr. Knackstedt.

Beginning last winter, I started with a different training approach and started working with Dr. K and Matt.  Slowly but surely, they helped rebuild my fragile mind and body into something resembling a useful triathlete again.  Their involvement in my development allowed me to focus first on being a good husband and father, and second on being a good athlete.  I stopped defining myself with sport, and helped me further re-align my real value as what I can be for my family.  Slowly, I began to find confidence, and was loving my training and racing experience.  By the time I reached this Ironman build, I was fitter, faster, happier, and more well rounded than I ever have been before.  My priorities are in the right order and my fabulous family is a testament to that.  

Pre-Race

We arrived in Chattanooga on Thursday evening and began to get settled in.  Friday morning, I got down to athlete check in and knocked out my swim/bike/run sessions for the day.  The body and equipment was all feeling/looking good.  I got to hang with my buddy Bryan at athlete village, and had a great day spending time with family.  In the evening I started the tedious job of getting my transition and special needs bags ready.  I did last minute checks on the bike, and installed the ice friction chain.  Saturday morning I slept in a bit and my kids did the IronKids race.  I had a great time running with Sloanie, and Chandler begrudging did the toddler race with Britt.  After brunch, I returned to transition for bike and bag check-in.  I prefer to get it out of the way so I am not staring at and tinkering with the bike and bags all day.  Drop off went smooth, and I familiarized myself with the flow of transition.

After check-in, mom, dad, Jacko, and I went up to see the monuments on Lookout Mountain.  It was a gorgeous day, and one of the best things about Ironman weekend is getting to spend so much time with my family.  We followed our sightseeing adventure with a trip down to Katie's house to see my girls and hang out at the pool.  As an aside, one thing no one can explain to you before you become a parent is how often you will need a break, but also how the second you are away, you are dying to see those little b^stards again.  I'm so lucky to have had both during my race weekend.  During one of my last therapy sessions, Dr. K asked me an important question about the race.  "How would you define a successful day?"  At the time he asked, I had absolutely no answer, but as I thought about it, the answer became very clear.
  • Race Joyfully
  • Being Present in the moment
  • Stick to the plan, race my race, blinders on
  • Don't make the race more excruciating than it needs to be, but be prepared to suffer the last two hours
  • Trust my preparation
  • Get to the finish and feel proud regardless of place and time
  • Break the mind body negativity connection on the run
  • Hug and kiss my girls at every opportunity
  • Roll with what the day gives
  • Enjoy eating a million calories, and eat a million calories
  • I don't "have" to do this.  I "get" to do this
  • Be grateful for the opportunity to be great
None of my goals included a goal time, goal pace, placing, podium position, or Kona Qualification.  Of course those things are always present in the back of my mind, but I am in such a different place that regardless of those metrics, if I accomplished as many of the above goals as possible, then the day would be an unqualified success.  My mission was clear and I laid down at about 8:30 p.m. in an effort to get as much sleep as possible.

Race Morning

My alarm was set for 4 a.m., and typical of a pre-race night I only got a few hours of broken sleep.  Much to my chagrin, the weather was rainy.  The forecast called for a break in the rain during the swim followed by a brief period of rain ending at about 9 a.m. (this would not be the case).  For breakfast I had 100 grams of carbohydrate in the form of applesauce and instant oatmeal.  I sipped on some diluted Maurten 160 for some extra calories.  I made my way down to transition and met Graham.  We got our gear in order, did our final checks, and made our way to the shuttle down to swim start.  We got to swim start on the early side, which was good, because it was quiet and the "facilities" were wide open.  We hung out and chatted for about an hour and I snacked on a Maurten 225 bar.  As the light of day rose, we changed our position toward the water for the 7:30 a.m. start.  We donned our wetsuits and I had a Maurten gel about 20 minutes prior to the gun.  Graham elected to go right at the beginning of the first wave whereas I was in no rush to get in the water.  I knew I would pass a lot of people in the water, and with any luck Graham and I would come out together and actually ride some of the course together.  I ended up about 7 minutes back and as I walked down the ramp the Macklemore song "Can't Hold Us" was pumping through the speakers.  It was the perfect jam for the moment.  I felt an odd sense of calm as I approached the water and resigned myself to my plan.  I was determined to race for myself, and ignore everything on the outside.  

Swim (39:53/1st AG/5th Male/5th OA)

My marching orders for the swim were to swim as easy as possible, and if it didn't feel easy than swim easier.  The current was absolutely ripping, and this split is patently absurd.  My swim fitness is as good as it has been for 10 years, but sub 40 is nonsense.  In addition to the current, the swim was wetsuit legal.  The water temp was hovering around 76.1 in the days prior to the event which means there was a 120% chance that Ironman would find a nice deep cool spot to measure  water temp on race morning.  The majority of athletes prefer wetsuit legal swims and Ironman knows where its bread is buttered...voila wetsuits!  

The swim went by quickly and felt good (after the first 1000 yards).  In the first 1000 I had tightness in my shoulders as a result of  wetsuit restriction.  After 10 minutes, it subsided, and the rest of the way was smooth sailing.  I had clean lines, kept my route inside of the buoys and encountered almost no swim traffic.  My 500 splits were all ticking off right around 5:00 each, so I knew the split would be fast.  As I exited the water, my goal was to be slow and steady.  We were trying to avoid building any unnecessary lactic acid or spiking my heart rate.  I was slow and steady through transition which was totally uneventful. I hit a Maurten gel as I put on my helmet and shoes. As I got on the bike, it was still dry and I was hoping it would stay that way.  Alas, it was not to be, and the next 5 hours was going to be quite hairy at times.

Bike (5:10:06/1st AG/12th Male/12th OA)
Avg Power 240/Norm Power 253/Avg HR 138/Avg Speed 22.3

The plan on the bike can be summarized with two concepts, heart rate and calories.  I planned to ride between 135-140 bpm with a hard cap of 145 bpm.  I ignored power and focused instead on 80-90g of carbohydrate per hour along with 40 oz of fluid.  I was supposed to increase the amount of Gatorade consumption in the back half of the ride to pump up the electrolyte content.  

In the first hour, I had a bottle of Maurten 320 and water.  Including the gel in transition that put me at 105g of carbs and about 40 oz of fluid.  In the second hour I had another Maurten 320 and a Maurten Solid 225,  This amounted to 120g of carbs supplemented with water.  In hour 3, I stopped at special needs (which I was on the fence about) and grabbed a third bottle that had two Maurten 160s mixed together.  This gave me another 80g of carbs and I began sipping Gatorade Endurance.  For the remainder of the ride, I utilized Maurten gels and Gatorade Endurance for my calories and electrolytes.  Hour four was a bottle of Endurance and two gels amounting to 90g of carbohydrate.  Sometime during the 3rd or 4th hour I started peeing on a fairly regular basis so I knew I was well hydrated.  In the latter parts of the ride I would pee within 5 minutes of last fluid consumption.  The 5th hour was the same, and included another bottle of Endurance and two more gels (90g carbs).  I was also sipping water for change of pace.  I saved one more gel (25g carbs) for the home stretch so I was topped off going into the run.  This was by far the most carbohydrates I've ever taken during an Ironman bike, and my energy was both excellent and consistent.  There was no fade, and the second loop was at least as strong as the first and probably stronger.  On the looped section of the course I split 2:05:44 and 2:05:33 respectively with the first loop including the stop at special needs.  

The weather during the ride was absolutely crazy.  About 5 miles in it started drizzling and by mile 10 it was pouring rain with a cross head wind.  That was when the thunder and lightning started.  Fortunately, the lightning was far off in the distance, and did not give me any real concern.  However, the gusts of wind were downright terrifying.  Once or twice a huge crosswind almost knocked me off my bike.  The combination of soaked roads and windy conditions made some sections of the course pretty dangerous.  This was one time I was glad to be 6'5 and 185 pounds.  I'm sure it was even more scary for those riders that are much smaller and susceptible to the wind.  

Unbeknownst to me, I came out of the water within a minute of Graham and he passed me like I was going backwards around mile 10.  He made a joke about grabbing my ass and then left me in the dust.  I was happy he was feeling good and thought to myself, "I guess that's the last I will see of him today!" (he's a stronger runner for sure).  Despite being dusted by my training partner, I kept the blinders on and stuck to my plan like glue.  Somewhere around mile 40-50 I caught back up to Graham on a climb, and got close enough to slap him on the butt and tell him how happy I was to see him.  We rode in proximity for about 20 miles before we lost touch.

The whole day I stared at my HR monitor, and focused on keeping it under 140.  I never wavered and stayed consistent all day.  I was blissfully ignorant of my power and didn't care.  I knew if I rode my HR, the power would take care of itself.  Typical of this course, I was passed by a few riders during the first loop, but rewarded for consistency on the second loop.  I started overtaking riders, and during the last 10 mile straight away I overtook three competitors.  The temperatures stayed in the 60's with high humidity and I was cool/cold for most of the ride.  It certainly helped keep the HR low as opposed to the blistering conditions we usually get at this race.  I was anticipating a much faster bike split based on Best Bike Split predictions, but the wind and rain made for a slow day and it was reflected in the splits of most of the top competitors.  On a warm dry day, I think this same ride would have put me closer to 5 hours.

Overall, the ride went by quickly, and despite the scary weather conditions I enjoyed every minute of it.  The increased calories were critical and made me realize how depleted I have been in previous races.  It's amazing what happens when you stick to the plan!  As I rolled into T2, my mindset was strong and I was ready to tick off the run miles with positivity.  The change into my run gear was relatively smooth, but I was feeling a bit of stomach discomfort so I dropped into the porta-potty before I hit the run course.  It cost me a minute or two, but I wanted to make sure I started the run in the best possible position.

Run (3:44:07, Avg HR 138, 8th AG, 48th Male, 58th OA)

The weather cleared on the run and suddenly it was bright and sunny, but not overly hot.  I agonized over which shoes to wear.  I am fortunate to have all the carbon super shoe options at my disposal.  Ultimately, I decided to go with the Asics Metaspeed Sky+.  They might not be quite as fast as the Alphaflys, but they feel the lightest, with the most "pop".  The plan on the run was similarly defined by HR and calories.  The goal was to run at 135-140 HR with a hard cap under 145.  This would be a challenge given the hilly nature of the run course.  The goal was to hit two gels per hour with Gatorade and coke at each aid station (50-60g carbs/hour).  The plan was to make sure I slowed sufficiently at each age station to get the proper amount of hydration (5-10 deliberate steps).  I also planned to take a lick of base salt after each 10K. 

I did not look at pace at all, and set my watch to auto split at 5 mile increments.  "Blinders on, keep the HR steady, the results will take care of themselves".  I ran blissfully ignorant of  pace, and it was the most enjoyable Ironman marathon I've ever done.  It wasn't flashy or particularly fast, but it was steady and consistent, and got the job done.  I never thought about my standing or a Kona slot, I just focused on ticking off each mile at the right HR while getting in the calories I needed.  Typically my wheels fall off somewhere around mile 13-15.  Matt had told me my race wasn't going to start until Mile 18.  I was laser focused on getting to 18.

The first 10 miles went by surprisingly quick, and I continued to feel strong.  There were a few runners passing me, but not  many.  I knew from my prior experience  that the hills on the second loop are where the race is won or lost.  If I was still grinding on the hills in the second loop I would finish well.  I got through the hills of the first loop steady and consistent and headed back out on the second loop feeling strong.  When I hit mile 15 I still felt strong.  I could feel muscle fatigue in my quads and hamstrings, but it was still manageable.  I knew that if I could get to Mile 18 with my head still in the game, this was going to be a successful day.

I ended up increasing the calories more than planned.  In the first hour I had the two gels along with Gatorade and Coke.  In the second hour I listened more to my body.  When I started to feel more fatigue or fog, I chalked it up to glycogen depletion and popped an extra gel.  I think I took three gels over the next hour along with the Gatorade/Coke.  After mile 10 I  took in more Base Salt.  I was doing two licks per serving instead of one.  Every time I felt the slightest hint of cramping I would take another hit or two of salt.  I was taking it in about every 2-3 miles.  When I got to Mile 18 still feeling relatively strong I thought, "this is working, I am in uncharted territory".  From that point forward, I  focused on each mile as it came.  From mile 20-25 I slowed a bit, but not like years past.  I never stopped running and took a bit more time at the aid stations, but kept grinding at a steady pace.  As I crossed the bridge onto the second loop of hills, I thought, "5K of hell and then I'm home free".  I knew the downhill running would be the worst part and if I could keep  cramps at bay going downhill I would be okay.  

My family was on fire supporting me all day.  They were everywhere on course.  Every time I saw my girls I tried to give at least one of them a kiss.  Jeanna, Jackie, mom and dad were everywhere I needed them.  Jacko kept yelling, "check the boxes".  Jeanna was yelling "stick to the plan".  It was the perfect amount of encouragement.  Each time I saw them, I tried to give an indication that I was physically and mentally strong.  This was a totally different Ironman experience.  Of all the goals I set out for myself, I was most successful at racing with joy and gratitude and not making the race excruciating when it didn't need to be.  I stayed engaged and mentally present, and dare I say it was fun.

The last 5 miles were tough, and I was walking a fine line with cramping.  I was able to survive the hills, but the last downhill coming off Barton  Avenue was too much for the old meat sticks, and I had to walk the first time during Mile 25.  It was a short respite, and by the time I hit the footbridge I could smell the finish line and dug deep and increased my pace. Jeanna was there giving me a last bit of encouragement, and when I came off the bridge and passed back under it I looked up and saw Jeanna screaming from above.  I raised my arms yelled to her, and got ready for the finish chute.  I ran down that finish chute with pride and hit the finish line in the best physical condition of all my prior races.  "Daniel Royce from Midlothian, Virginia, you are an Ironman".  I knew I had a good day, but did not know my placing in the AG or the field at large.  

As  I walked through the finish area, I saw my family.  Dad told me I was third in the AG.  It was at that point I first thought I had a good chance to get back to Kona.  There was a high likelihood that my age group would have up to 5 Kona Slots.  I had faith, I stuck to the plan, I focused on what I could control, and the results took care of themselves.  Most importantly, I raced with joy and felt proud of my effort.  I have never felt so at peace with my effort in a competition of any kind.  The possibility of Kona felt like icing on the cake.  What a day! I felt so grateful for everything the previous hours had given me.

Post-Race:  Back to Kona Baby!!!!!
The following morning we went to awards, and I was grateful to stand on the podium with some fantastic competitors.  I met one of the guys I rode with on course, Joe McLeod.  He just missed a Kona slot in the 35-39 AG, but  is a super strong competitor with a great attitude, and I have no doubt he will punch his ticket soon.  It is so enjoyable meeting other athletes and learning about how they manage to train and race given their family and work situations.  I found out at awards  there would be 5 Kona slots, and proudly claimed mine when the time came.  Bryan Schleppy went out of his way to come to the awards and brought me a Lei to wear while I collected my Kona Slot. I told my dad that the first KQ felt a little bit like a fluke, but this one felt more like I was in control...it felt more real.

I feel so proud and happy in a way I have not previously experienced.  I also feel content which is totally foreign to me, but quite calming.  I am different, and feel as though I still have better races in front of me.  Father time is undefeated, but I am not yet ready to concede to him.  I genuinely believe  there are PRs still in front of me, and look forward to applying another year of this training methodology to prepare for Kona.

If you have made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my musings (I tend to be long winded in these reports).  As always, I welcome any questions or feedback and I am happy to chat with anyone about how I train, race, fuel, and manage to be a semi-responsible member of society.  Thanks for reading!!!!  Aloha!!!!!