IronMan story - finally...

In short, the objective was to cross the finish line of the Ironman (3.8 km swimming, 181.5 km* cycling & a marathon: 42.2 km) between 10h30 (the dream) and 11h (if not issues). I did an incredible 9h59, including a sub 48 mn swim, 5h32 for the bike and a 3h33 marathon (PB). 333rd is the overall ranking and 89th in my age group.
Note that eating time, potty time, hug time and so on are including in the racing time. It starts in the morning, and only stops when you cross the line. What you do in between is up to you…
* The bike course was a tiny bit longer due to construction work. 180 km ==> 181.5 km

Before I go into the details, note that the race was the opportunity to feel normal :
- Everyone loves carbon
- Waking up at 4 AM to go riding does not surprise anyone
- Racing morning till night is the standard…

Now get a beer or 2, and enjoy the day!


I skip all the logistic details, the organization and so on : we’re in Frankfurt, Germany. Paul & Eric are also here, all the way from Tokyo, Japan. They have been my most rigorous trainer partners this year. I couldn’t have been here without them. And I have a magnificent cheerleading team: Guerlain, Sullivan et Sandy, but also my parents and my brother: Olivier.


There will be 2 swim starts:
- The first one at 6h45 for the pros & 300 non-pros
- The second one at 7h (AM) for the remainder 2000. We’ll be in that wave start.

The family takes off from the hotel at 3AM to attempt to get a parking spot near the swim start. Considering the road shut down and the 20,000 expected spectators, it’s not too early!
On ours side, we take off at 4h30AM. Pick up Olivier and off to downtown to get on the shuttle for a direct drop off.

The trip is eventless even though all the athletes show tension on their faces. Everyone smiles, but you can tell the stress underneath. Personally I start wondering what crazy gig I signed up for… It’s a little late now!
I’m not concerned about the swim portion but the start. Chlorine pool swimming (1 or 2 guys per lane) is not quite the same sport as 2000 guys rushing in a lake!
For the 180 km (181.5 today) it should be ok. No rush start. It should be fine as long as I pace myself and avoid drafting. A lot of people will be catching me (my biking skills are not quite as impressive as my swimming...) and I don’t want to get busted for drafting just because a guy pulled up in front of me. It’s the follower’s responsibility to keep the 10 m gap.
Finally the marathon remains the unknown portion. I’ve only done 1 before, 18 months ago, in Tokyo. Great experience, but quite painful. I’m not overwhelmingly confident today as I wasn’t able to train as much as I wanted (calf strain).

We set our gear down as we get to the bike park. It’s just like a zoo. We’re the animals, and a bunch of people are watching the weirdoes (us) through the fence (do no feed the animals please!). I queue for the ultimate potty stop. We chat in the mean time but the tone is still nervous.
I change into my race gear, prepare the water bottles, the food, …
I actually changed 1 thing in the nutrition plan – you’re not supposed to on race day! I decided to add pretzels to the menu. As the food provided at the aid stations is solely sweet (Power bar or Power gel), I need a break from the sweetness. Even though I have a (very) sweet tooth, the “all day on sweets” just doesn’t do it. The salt from the pretzel should give me that break.

The tubes are pumped up, the helmet is put away, the bib belt ready, I put the wetsuit on -like a glove… I can now head to the swim start. All the preparation took quite a bit of time. We miss the pros’ start. We’re off in 15mn so we hurry a little. I drop my bag off at the truck and rush to the beach. I’ll skip the warm-up as there is no time and no room in the water. Picture 50 tadpoles in a cup, it’s pretty much the same as 2000 guys at the start…Except for the neoprene wetsuit and the red swim cap!
There is already a bunch of swimmers stacked up near the platform on the right side. It’s supposedly the closest to the first buoy. Since there is room along the start line 30 m on the left, I sneak there. I rather swim a few extra meters up front, than have to swim over 10 guys… I lost sight of Paul and Eric while going there.
Now it’s on your own… And they are better off slightly back than right here up front. It’s gonna be a riot!
I notice that I’m moving a lot, stroking in all directions, pretending to warm up… But kicking and moving around isn’t necessary yet. So I calm down, bringing my hear t rate back down to about 100 bpm (beat per minute). I should be able to escape quickly, even without warm up, from the mass and the proximity of too many swimmers. Years of swim training should be beneficial… even 15 years later.
I’m shifting mindset, going from stressed (a little) to competition mode. As far as I remember, racing always brought a smile to my face. And there it is! I’m now anxious to start this race, prepared for so long. I’m here to race, it’s going to hurt of course but we trained a lot. There were a lot of sacrifices (sleep, efforts, money, family time, …) and now it’s the cherry on cake! The training with Paul and Eric was awesome and flawless.

1mn to go before the start. Large smile, the heart beat is cranking up. It’s race time !
The countdown is stopped in the last 30 seconds to avoid anticipated starts so I decide to start the watch right then, approximately 30 sec early. Now I notice that people are pushing. The start line was removed, and the tadpoles are pushing forward. Since I don’t want to start from the back, I follow the flow. Soon, the drift becomes a slow swim forward. They even started crawling behind me ! And for every stroke they take they push my feet down. That’s no good! Swimming is an horizontal sport, not vertical. So I kick to create some space around my legs… Sorry guys.
Now everyone is swimming slowly and FINALLY the gun is off !

I have people on my right over 30m, and on my left over about 70m. I start off fast enough to avoid any feet pulling from my followers. I quickly reduce the pace and watch. I’m watching for the other swimmers. Who will allow me to draft and yet get a fast time? A group is quickly moving on the right. A guy, alone, is in front of the pack on the left. I keep swimming forward for now. I avoid looking at the buoy at this point to optimize my stroke. 100m or 200 m after the start I’m in the lead… : )


I take that opportunity to look back, for the joy of it. It’s not every day that you’re trailed by 1999 guys! It’s a human worm, moving all along – one HUGE body with thousands of arms & legs kicking & stroking. Almost scary!
Alright, now, back to business. The guy on the left is closing on me and I decide to let him go first. I closely monitor the group on the right. Should I skip over and go with that group? I don’t want them to escape without me. I chose not to.
But finally my bet was the good one. The group leaders start drifting towards us. The “pace maker” is in the lead, and the group is now against us. We’re heading towards the first main buoy. So after about 300m, we’re 3 serious swimmers together. The leader is giving the pace, I’m following making sure not to touch his feet (it’s annoying). The other guy is trying to squeeze in. At this point, I’m not so nice… I was there first, I’ll stay here. So he has 2 possibilities:
- draft on the side of the leader (I’m on his left, he could go the his right)
- or draft off me.
After some aquatics hugs (so to speak), he settles down to draft off me. As long as he doesn’t touch my feet I’m ok with that.
At the 500m mark, our positions are settled. The water is calm, no waves, no traffic, one behind another. Perfect conditions. I don’t look up very often as the pace maker is doing the navigation for us. He’s moving a lot to do that. He’s making me tired just looking how much agitation he’s in! Pace seems reasonable even though I feel the heart & breathing are a little high. I need to calm down, while keeping the pace. I do just that while passing the first main buoy. The leader is doing a great job for me. I’m in the second place, of the second wave. I’m in optimal conditions.
It’s official, the day is starting extremely well!

I check the back for once. We’re now only the 3 of us. The rest of the herd has dropped off. Another good news !
I follow through towards the second buoy where we’ll turn back towards the beach to close off the first loop.
Le leader seems to get excited. He swims all over the place, in all directions. He hasn’t stopped since the beginning. He goes on his back and swims backstroke while he speaks up. … In the water and in German, needless to say I don’t get a thing. I assume he wants me to take over and pace off for a while. But to do that he has to let me go: his pace is quick. And I don’t really fell like it! I’ll doing great right here, behind him while he’s doing all the work: why change?
We reach the second major buoy, I’m still drafting off of him. I notice we’re now only 2. The 3rd guy dropped off.
Around the buoy we go, very close to touching it.
Before and after a major buoy (where we turn) there are a bunch of kayaks to drive the swimmers in the proper direction. However, right after the turn, the pace maker shifts to the left. We’re supposed to remain on the right side but he is definitely on the left now. I look up at the kayak lady… She doesn’t do or say anything. This won’t make his route any shorter but I know he intends to drop me off.
And I don’t want to follow him in forbidden territory. So I remain on the right side, he speeds up and create a gap. 10 or 20 m. It’s noticeable when he finally returns to the proper side, 200 m after the turn.
I have 2 choices :
- I pick the pace up to catch him. Or
- I let him go.
I push it for 100 m or so. I catch up a little. But I realize it will take a while for me to get back into his feet.
Do I have to do it? Obviously not, it’s still a long way to go (remember that little bike ride, and short run after the bath?)!
I give up the idea and shift into tempo mode. I swim at my own pace, and start navigating for myself.
The gap actually doesn’t change. But I start to worry about potential comebacks from behind. But soon enough I reassure myself: if there were fast swimmers in the back they would already be here. We’ve been swimming about 1,500m.

200m to go before exiting from the first swim loop. It will be a short run and we’ll dive back in for a shorter second loop.

I now start to catch people up. People from the first wave, those with the blue caps. There aren’t many of them so passing isn’t an issue.
The red cap guy, the leader, is right there in front of me. I feel I could just catch him.
Time for the short run: I swim as far as possible in the water, and start jogging on the red carpet. There are a lot of people and photographers so I wave at them. Being in front won’t last much longer so I should enjoy every minute of it!


Run back to the water. There are a lot of stones on this side. I noticed it yesterday. I run and dive back in.
2 facts:
1 – running after swimming is still very painful – my heart is gonna blow !
2 – My left foot is painful, very painful. The big toe actually.
I worry I cut myself on a stone or something. I try to feel how bad it is while kicking. If it’s a small cut or if a big chink is hanging I should be able to feel the difference. But in fact I can’t feel anything other than the pain.

Alright, it’s pointless to worry about it. If it’s cut open, I’ll put something on at the nursery. It will be fine for the bike and we’ll see for the run.

So I focus back onto the navigation : I use the leader’s red cap to guide myself. Now that swimmer traffic is increasing – a bunch of blue caps around – I need to be careful. He’s going wide, avoiding the areas too crowded.
Rats ! I forgot to check the watch during the short run.

Next buoy to turn, very packed now. So I swim wide. There are people around but it’s not so bad. I keep a steady gap with my guide / leader guy. He keeps looking back: I must be worrying him. But again I can’t believe how much energy he’s spending just by looking around!

Last turn, no problem and it’s into the last stretch. I can clearly see the finish area. They’ve done a great job to visually identify it. While I focus on releasing extra fluids (not so easy while swimming) I drift a little away from the buoys… I then have to come back into the main stream of swimmers (first wave again).
While doing that I lost sight of Red Cap #1… Who cares now ? I keep crunching blue caps : that’s fun ! But the game is going to change as soon as we hit the ground!

Swimming is about to be wrapped up – no problems, optimum conditions (I wish I stayed longer in the leader’s feet). I’m quite satisfied : great place (2nd) and I don’t feel tired. I don’t think I bankrupted the energy storage. I’ll need it for later.

I swim as far as I can again, as long as I can as it’s the best way to get out of the water efficiently. When my hands start picking up sand, it’s about time to get up and run. I pass another 3 blue caps in doing so.
I open the wetsuit while running. There is even more people on each side than at the end of the first loop. It’s too crowded to recognize anyone. Of course that’s not a problem for me. I do make a point to wave, smile and goof around even in the steep climb that take us into T1.



I check the watch. 48mn. Awesome & incredible! I was hoping for about 50mn, considering the time spent in the water... That’s a 2mn bonus!
I really jog easily at this point. The climb is a killer. Once I reach the top I wave at the volunteers, numerous and all smiling.

I reach the bike, take the wetsuit off, and start to get ready. A volunteer is following me. He’ll pick up my stuff to put it in the transition bag.
I load my pockets with food, the pretzels, put the helmet on, the bib belt… Ready? not quite – it’s up side down… Alright, it’s good now. Ok ? … Yes, I can go now.
No ! I dry my shoulders off and carefully apply sun screen… Got baby skin you know!
Now I can go. I take the Felt off the rack and run to the park exit.

Because of the first wave, the bike park is already quite busy. And at the exit we’re 3 or 4 to climb on our ride. Top ! I set the watch for the bike time, and I take off. Now it’s all going to be about rigor : rigor to stick to the plan.
2hr easy, or almost easy, 2 hr tempo, and pushing the remaining time (about 2hr also).
There is 13km to get to the first loop from the lake. Then each loop is 84 km and we have to it twice.
I take off, start pedaling and see a first guy on the side, he has a flat – poor thing. My tubes seem ok.

I start easy, without pushing hard but soon the bike makes an awful noise. It’s so loud. What’s going on ?
The pavement at this point not good, but it shouldn’t make so much noise!
I try to listen where it comes from… Dummy! The people, cheering, have noise makers, making cracking noise from both sides of the road.
Alright, I can ride now.

I reach the freeway that leads to the city and can calm down & think:.
- I notice I forgot to look at my toe.
- The transition (T1) went smoothly.
- I put the shoes on (attached to the pedals since yesterday already) without crashing!
- The left shoe tongue is misplaced. It doesn’t bother so I leave it as it is.
- The heart rate progressively calms down.
- There must of been at least 3 guys stopped due to flats or technical problems. No luck.
- Weather is awesome, not too warm, not to cold.

From now on, it’s non stop heart rate (HR) monitoring. I alternate that with the nutrition: drink, ride, eat, ride, drink, HR check, ride… Got the idea?

I feel like I ride so slowly and I wish I could pus hit : I feel SOOOO good. And it’s even more frustrating that I get passed by a bunch of very fast guys. I really have to make a big effort not to try to pick it up. Moreover I must look like a fool, going so slow, on my very nice bike…But I MUST follow the plan. The distances today induce respect! In time...

I attempt to chat when the guys don’t fly by. Only a few reply. Some even cheer me up, just like the one legged man who goes by quickly. Whaou! That’s impressive and it’s hard to cope with: a guy with only 1 leg is kicking my butt! Respect!

I reach downtown and start the first loop. The pavement is not as good here, with bumps and so on. But it’s the same for everyone. There is a lot of people on the side of the road, and I start to fall into my tempo. The initial frustration of letting people goes away.

My drink is too concentrated, I didn’t put enough water when mixing it. So I have to alternate sport drink and water.

Now I get passed by packs. Some riders are gathered in pelotons and fly by. Most of the time there is a good distance in between. But soon the packs are very tight and it’s drafting big time for them.
Again, I have 2 choices: yell and complain, or shut up and let it go. Plan B, there is nothing I can do about it so no reason to sweat about it. Moreover, the race is all about the clock. Me against the clock. I don’t care about others. If they choose to cheat, or play unfairly, it’s their problem.

Soon referees start to show up. I have to be double careful to keep enough space in front of the bike. While I’m most of the time is aero position (leaning forward) I have to often get back up to slow down and put the regulatory 10m between my predecessor and my front wheel.
I also note that doing this move is a clear sign to the referee : I have no intention of drafting, even if the distance is temporarily less than 10m So far only warnings have been given, no penalties.

With all of that, the first hour flew by without being noticed. I reach a first bridge, short but steep. I get passed by a girl!! In your face – that’s tough on pride…

Soon, we reach the first noticeable difficulty of the loop (there are 4 of them for each lap). It climbs obviously but if I focus on spinning (small gear) I go up very easily. Legs are good.
I’m surprised with 2 things:
- Almost all the other riders climb out of the saddle, which seems to be so hard on the legs…
- I don’t get dropped like I was anticipating. I’m no climber, but it seems that the others aren’t much better. That’s surprising.

I make it through without too much trouble and resume the previous plan (ride / eat / …). I’m glad took 2 pretzels with me on the bike. The drink being too sweet right off, I’m already tired of sweet stuff. I try to alternate between Powerbar, SoyJoy (Japanese energy bars) and the pretzels.

I get passed often, quickly or slowly. But the flow of riders going by is quite steady.

I quickly reach what is the monument of the bike route. Just after this turn, I’ll reach the cobblestone road. It’s the famous climb called « The Hell ». The road is crowded with people on both sides, especially near the top, where we reach the city gate, riding under the big medieval clock. (pretty city). It’s not a long climb, ½ mile may be. But on the cobblestones, it’s really shaaaa----kyyyy. You can feel each individual stone, through the hands and butt…
I turn in quickly, carefully following Coach Alain’s instructions, and start this section quite fast. Many riders are just cruising. They’ve stopped pedaling. They let the cobble stones take over. Not me ! I didn’t come all the way here to cruise. So I pedal, even though it’s not comfortable at all. The nice carbon bikes and wheels are light and stiff, but here they transfer every irregularity on the road.
Since my roady friends are most subtle I start passing a few. In the meantime, supporters, beer in one hand, cheer us up just like in a Tour de France mountain stage. As the road gets steeper, the crowd gets louder and I pass more and more. I still don’t understand why they stay in their big gear, low cadence…
Anyway, this really gives me an extra push. I catch back riders whom passed me up to 15 mn earlier it seems.
A couple of HIGH 5 with some kids along the way and I reach the top feeling absolutely awesome. Man, it’s fun!
I do check the HR though. My heart remained within a reasonable level. It’s high, but not outrageous (below 150 bpm).
The descent starts and I check right away the damage. Just like in the first few km of the bike course, the road was covered of bike gears or food. Same here with the cobblestones. Status : one water bottle lost and a CO2 cartridge unscrewed. No big deal for the water bottle. The bottle in the front (in between the aero bars, with the straw) still has plenty of water. And then I re-screw in the cartridge carefully.

The bike is quite loaded in fact. I have the front bottle, 2 others in the back (one with water, one with PowerBar drink). I also have 2 tubulars (tires), a bike tool, 2 CO2 cartridges with the adapator. You’re never too prepared, right? And again, for the bottle, it’s no big deal, plenty of aid stations.


I follow through out of the village, in the countryside, and I notice that passers (guys passing me) are fewer now. First I see again the ones I just passed in the climb and then new ones, but the pace gap is not so important anymore.

In the middle of the fields, the road is magnificent, much better than downtown with its shares of bumps and holes… It’s awesome.

It’s a lot of fun but somehow I start to feel bad. My heart rate is rising, above 130 bpm while I aim at 127 bpm at this point. And I clearly feel that I’m not going anywhere. My pace feels very slow even though I don’t check speed. I feel all alone and just feel down. I’m only 1h30 into the bike and I already feel bad. Where am I going like that?

There is nothing much to do : I release pressure, slow down even further (remember I feel like I’m going slow !) and wait for HR to return the right level. I just have to be patient. It lasts 10 mn, 15 mn may be. Then I reach another village. I start to feel better already. The heart rate comes back down, and the pace seems better as well. I start wondering if I got an energy down period (so soon, after so few efforts, it’s seems unlikely). I start thinking there was a small incline… I guess I didn’t notice it. Anyway that what I tell myself: there was a small & steady climb. I move on.

I now reach the third difficult section on the loop, another climb. And again, most riders stay in their big gears, get off the saddle and pedal at a very low cadence. I spin, and pass! I’m so happy because it’s so unexpected. So I let it go. I push up the climb without checking the heart rate.
I pass more, more… It’s such a joy to take over « big riders » with their full disk in the rear… Meanwhile David goes by! Hi hi hi.

Well, once we’re back on flats, I return to my rank – average rider and the « big riders » go by again.
After this game of being passed, passing, being passed, I start to see the same bikes and names (on the race bib) over and over. We now start to chat, especially with other French, but not only.
Just like at the start of the bike, some are glad to exchange a few words, others just wave back, at best…

- After following the monotonous nutrition plan,
- after putting aside the surprising blues,
- motivated by the great climbs, I reach the city where Sullivan raced his IronKids yesterday. I reach downtown with Matthias and other now familiar names. There is a short climb allowing me to catch them up again. I then realize that this group, like others which passed earlier, ride much closer than the rule stipulates. It’s annoying. But what can I do ? Nothing.
Reaching this city means that I’m ½ way through the 1st loop. We’re now riding toward Frankfurt.

Conditions are perfect : good temperature, cloudy sky, very light wind. It’s all good. The pavement is excellent. There are some small climbs here and there. In the villages, there are always people standing outside to cheer us up. Tall « picnic like » tables – bar height – are set along the road, the stereo or the live band are loud (German music obviously). The atmosphere is awesome.
In the fields, some kids are standing all alone, trying to get a high 5 from the riders (they get it from me, that’s a given !). Others look into the tall grass for discharged bright PowerBar water bottles.

At each aid station it’s the same scheme. We throw away the empty bottles (if they didn’t fall by themselves !) and the numerous volunteers hand out bottle. Water first, then energy drink, then Coke (yes, Coke), then Red Bull and food.
I now start picking up ½ bananas as well to change the menu…

Since I have been riding for about 2hr now I start to feel the urge to go empty the bladder. The initial plan was not to stop, just like in the swim, and to relief oneself on the bike. But the rule changed and it was clearly said this is now forbidden. So I stop at a legal toilet for nature call. 1 mn. 1mn lost.

I hope Paul or Eric didn’t passed me while I was in there. I really want to see them and learn how the swim went for them. Normally they should catch up with me at the end of the first lap. But I have a 2 mn lead over the plan (since the swim)…. So far I haven’t paid attention at my pace. There are a few road signs mentioning the distance covered but I never look up the stopwatch at the same time. Purposefully. I rather pace myself through the effort and the heart monitoring rather than the speed. This is my first race of that kind and I don’t want to burn of the batteries on the Felt. I do need energy off the bike to have a descent marathon. (I know, it sounds crazy even as I write it).

Last noticeable climb of the loop. It’s amazing how many people are gathered here. There isn’t even room for 2 riders side by side. Banners, signs, blow-up hands, flags, everything is waved when we go by. Everybody’s cheering. So cool ! I let it go. The standing up riders aren’t faster than before while I release the mental brake I had on so far. I feel strong, I feel crazy (I grin my teeth as I’m writing!)
I remain in the saddle, like we’ve done so many times in the Japanese hills, focusing on cadence, and I start passing. The crowd has to jump back to leave us enough room. And I pass again. I can feel that I have an immense smile across my face, I wave at the photographers, high 5 all I can – I’m here to have fun ! And guess what? I’m having a blast. And I’m passing more people – that’s crazy !
I reach the top, I calm down a little. 150 bpm. That’s high. I need to return to the normal HR ASAP.

Every time it’s flat, I put myself into aero position. It’s really relaxing for me (anything close to laying down is good, right?). My heart rate quickly drops back down. I keep the cadence up, I check the bottom bracket and notice that I’m quite often on the big ring. That’s good news. If I manage to have the big ring and yet have good cadence, it must be because I’m doing well. The pace must be good. During the whole season I spent most of my riding time on the small ring. Is taper working out well? Looks like it…
I reach the 90 km sign when I’m having those thoughts. I do check the watch this time. More or less, it’s 50 to 55mn for the swim and transition, then if I go at 30 km/h that should put me at 3h50. I’m at around 3h40. I guess I’m right on the spot, or may be a tiny bit better. I don’t try to make an accurate calculation. I know I can’t do algebra during a race. It would take ½ hr for a simple addition, so you can image for a division !

Back to Frankfurt now. The road is getting bumpy and rough. Now only a few people now pass me. The closer we get to downtown and the wider to roads are. Moreover all riders now meet the drafting rule : no one within the 10m box. I guess we are more spread out too.
On the other hand, on the side, it’s the opposite. The closer we get the historical center, the higher the number of supporters on the side. And the more people you have, the more noisy it gets.
I reach a steep turn, “meeting point” we had set for my family: riders are supposed to slow down in a turn! I can’t wait to see them, even if it’s for a slip of a second.


I look up and I notice a large French flag, above the crowd. I move towards it, on the left. It’s my dad. Hi! I don’t see anyone else even though I hear some “Allez David”… I have to keep an eye on the road you know… And back into the race.

Another funny thing, a few miles prior to the transition area (where we’ll stop after the second lap) many riders are getting out of aero position and slow down. It’s like if there is a safety car. Especially when we reach the tunnel, I can’t pedal any more – it’s to narrow to pass (constructions).
I reach the bleachers loaded with people : I feel great, pace seems ok, the climbs are not that challenging (even I say that !), I’m going to be able to push it a notch further on the second lap. I need to bring my heart rate to 130 bpm on average now.

As I exit the city, a peloton takes me over. This had been a while. But since we couldn’t ride fast earlier it’s not so surprising. But this pack is very dense.
So I get out of aero position, standing up as a roady even if that means I lose time.
It was a good reflex as a referee comes by (on a motorcycle) and throw a couple black cards to some riders in front of me. That’s the drafting penalty. You then need to go to a penalty box for 6 mn.

Some throw the arms in the air, other yell back. But 5 mn later, the pack is still compact. I have to stop pedaling half of the time now to keep enough clearance, waiting for them to move away so I can return to my normal pacing, and position. At that point the referee returns and rides up to the pack, gestures, talking… then the motorbike speeds up and pull over in front of the pack. And then stops!
The riders in the pack have no choice but to stop. She calls out a couple more guys (not happy). The rest of us manage to slowly get around. We get back on the course and the race goes on for us.
However I talk to a French guy a little later. He was in the pack and got a black card. It was his second one meaning a disqualification. He’s totally bummed out.
But the rule is the rule. He keeps going but he won’t be ranked.

After all this stress, I head back towards the climbs. I start realizing that pushing it (the effort) a little bit more might be risky. I’m not exhausted but I start to feel that my wild climbs have taken away from the energy storage.
So I decide to play it a little more conservative than planed. I’ll (try to) remain below 130 bpm while I’m on flats, in aero position.

Here comes another girl who passes me. But Stephanie, that her name, had big thighs. Got to give her credit !
I try to keep her with a legal distance without burning myself. As mentioned earlier, people now pass me slowly… I start to feel the 3hr ride in the legs. The funny thing is that I don’t even recall the swim. I’m in the bike, thinking about the bike only. I guess the swim was the warm up!

As I get to the first climb of the second loop, I catch Stephanie up and a bunch of riders (peloton) again. I do notice that my cadence feels a notch down against the first lap situation. The pedal stroke doesn’t feel as energetic anymore. Gee, I wonder why?
I don’t hurt, but I can feel the wear which starts to nag the muscles. I’m about 100 km into the ride, and that alone is a good ride according to my (ex-swimmer) standards.

Back to the country side, with some rolling hills. It’s so nice! Weather is still perfect. Not too warm, not too cold, clouds to avoid sun burn.
Someone calls my name, from behind. It’s Paul, catching me. We spend a couple minutes together (well rather seconds in fact. He’s fast!) to check on each other.
He did a 58mn swim, in the middle of the herd. That’s pretty good considering the conditions in the pack ! And he feels he pushed it a notch too much in the first lap… No news of Eric. And there he goes….

It was great to talk to him. Especially now that the fatigue strain starts to kick in. My legs feel heavy. I sure could use a break. Talking to him gave me just that, for the mind at least. No rest for the body.

Back on the cobblestones. Big surprise. I catch up with Paul ! Incredible. We’re here doing our Ironman Germany with a loud crowd, on the cobblestones shaken so hard on our bikes that your teeth rattle. Strong moment!

Once back on the road, the power speaks for itself and Paul flies by once again. That was neat.

I’m concerned about Eric, he should have caught up by now…

To change my mind (from the legs here, my back that, the food like that, …), I keep waving at spectators and giving « 5 » to kids. I enjoy it and it gives me a break (again only mentally : I’m not stopping !). Prior to an aid station, I manage to dispose of my empty bottle in front of a kid. But I’m careful because my “friend” Stephanie (whom I passed on the previous climb) has thrown hers a little too strongly... It landed directly in a spectator’s crotch who was sitting on the ground… He was a little surprised!
Now beside Stephanie or Matthias (the same group of faster riders on flats, but slower on climbs) there are only a few guys passing now. But you can tell that those guys are flying. I guess they were in the back of the swim but were all about riding ! Their bike split will surely be impressive. But I start thinking about the run (not so much about the marathon distance). When a guy passes by I start wondering how he’s going to hold on the run. Will I be able to catch him up?
It’s quite funny, I haven’t reach the 120 km mark and I’m already starting to shift focus. I even start telling myself I’ve done a good job on the bike…

But that’s not quite right. There is still 60 km to go. I do check the watch at 120 km. It’s still over 30 km/h, for sure. Even more than 31 km/h I think. Very good: I keep the current plan and don’t push the muscles and heart any higher at this point.

I’m convince it’s a good choice but it’s challenging one now. On the way back to Frankfurt with about 45 km to go the wind has stepped into the game. And it’s a serious head wind. When we ride through cities, it’s fine. We aren’t exposed. But once in the field, it’s totally different story.
I’m a little tired (who’s surprised ?) and worn out by the same aero position, so I tend to get back up a little more than required (normally in hills or to avoid drafting). I therefore “appreciate” getting passed a little too close now. It gives me an excuse to stretch the back a little. But because of the wind, I’m back into aero position and I stay in it. I increase the cadence a notch just put a little less pressure on the pedals, to compensate. And I don’t have the same vigor than during the first lap.

And here comes the last climb of the loop, and of day (for the bike). It’s the longest of the 4 climbs.

There seems to be less people. I guess the pros went by and are already off to the run. Or I’m just getting used to it!


It doesn’t matter, I shift gear, go up in cadence. As mentioned earlier it’s not as energetic, as dynamic as before. But yet, I still pass people. It feels a little like a slow motion video.
In reality, it’s almost as fast as the first lap, but the feeling is different.
And now, people I pass in climbs usually don’t come back on me later on. They started off the first lap too fast I guess. I catch up with the one-legged guy whom passed me right off the swim. Man that’s impressive what he’s doing. I cheer him up now.

I can’t remember if it’s before or after that hill but once again Paul passes me. He had to go to the little corner… Soon Paul over takes me once again. The packs (drafters) are more difficult to manage for him as the speed difference is not as important as me. It’s the same with Eric. It takes longer for the pack to take over fast riders…
I’ll learn after the race that Eric got a drafting penalty. After the 5th or 6th riders to squeeze in, Eric got tired of slowing down to keep the clearance ahead of him… Normally the passing guy is supposed to insure enough clearance before moving in front of the slower rider. In practicality, most people move back in front quickly. So the slower rider has to slow even more to quickly recover the 10 m clearance. It gets old when you have to do that for 5 or 10 continuous minutes… Still racing here!

Anyway I now can’t keep track of mileage. I haven’t seen any sign recently. We’re heading back to town and I look forward to get off the bike.

If I summarize, I’ve been following the plan to the letter, and have been on the safe side on the second lap since I didn’t push more. But the headwinds at the end, it’s been tough. But most of all, I surprised myself on the climbs: still someone must explain why some triathletes get off the saddle during the climb, powering up every pedal stroke, slowly while there is a marathon to go…

Alright, there is 5 to 10 km to go now. And again, riders are slowing down. I intend to reduce the effort but only in the last 2 km, maximum. That’s plenty enough to insure a good transition. So I keep the pressure for now, remaining in aero position. I pass people again, without being on a climb! Nice!
It’s quite enjoyable as the first lap was all about control and monitoring. Now, without taxing myself, I gain a few spots. Listening to Paul’s directions are paying off!

Back into the tunnel, then a couple places made up in tight turns, thanks to Alain’s bike coaching. Well, it’s not that difficult. The others have stopped their efforts already and they turn very slowly…

I open the shoes, set my feet on top and reach the transition area, called T2. I’m getting ready for the main course: the marathon. As I get off the Felt, a volunteer takes it away. I jog to the bag racks. Hundreds of red bags are hanging off the racks. It’s sorted by number. Another volunteer asks and checks my number, locates my bag. He hands it to a third volunteer – unbelievable the organization. I run behind that person to the closest bench.

He stops in front of the open space on the bench, I sit while he empties the bag. He sorts my stuff carefully while I take the helmet off. I was just as careful when I prepared the bag. I put the calf compression socks, and the proper sock in the proper shoe (Left / right). I manage to put in all of that quickly and empty my pockets – I have some small pretzel pieces left. I’ll shift to liquid nutrition only during the run. It’s too difficult to digest solid food while running…
I fit the hat on, take some anti-inflammatory. Sun glasses, and I thank the volunteer. I exit the tent. He’ll pick up the remaining gear to put it back in the bag.

I’m off to 4 laps of 10.5 km. 2 bridges to go over per lap. My previous (and first) marathon was 18 months ago. And it was a painful one (going from slow to slower)… Today I’m not certain how I’ll complete the 2nd ½ since I couldn’t do long runs in the recent months. But as I start running over the carpet covered cobblestones (quite bumpy) I’m not thinking about that. I feel great. In my mind, I have the bike legs (worn out), and the run ones (fully rested). In reality, we all know it’s the same pair of legs which is doing the job! But again, as I got off the bike to change, I didn’t feel sore or tired!

The major risk here is to start off too fast. Excitement is high, it’s the 3rd start of the day. And there is such an electric atmosphere here! A bunch of people on both sides of the route.
I’m off, press on the stop watch and start focusing on short run strides.

I modified my run technique about 2 years again. The objective was to maximum energy saving, to be able to do run endurance. With the new shoes (only 4 or 6 weeks old). I feel great. The Newtons are made especially for this type of forefoot running.
I start easy and enjoy the numerous cheers. Race car like runners fly by! They have already completed, 1 or 2 laps !!! Fortunately I find people running at my pace. Some are also starting their marathons: we’re in the same boat. For the guys passing me right away (right off the bike), I like to think that I’ll catch them up later just like I caught up people (only a few, that’s right) at the end of the bike.

After about 1 km, I start feel a ball forming in my biceps femoris (the muscle between the butt cheek and the back of the knee). It’s getting tighter at each stride. I try to focus on something else – may be it will go away…
Nope, still there. It’s going to cramp up even though I feel great!
I have no other choice but to stop and stretch the tight muscle. I resume my jogging right away. Let’s see how long it will last…

The run aid station are very similar to the bike ones. Except that we don’t get bottles but cups that we quickly dispose off. The many volunteers are doing an amazing job giving away the different drinks, ice, or gels to the never ending flow of now-runners. And cleaning up! Can you image, about 2300 people x 4 laps x 1 or 2 cups per aid station x 7 aid stations = a lot of cups to pick up!!!
They also provide wet sponges. Since the temperature is just fine, I don’t need that.

I start the first climb, the first bridge. I’m concerned about the tightness… But nothing. It’s fine! Cool, I can keep my little tempo.
I’ll monitor my pacing more closely than on the bike: at km 4 , then km 8 and finally the 10 km. And repeat for each loop. Why 4 and 8? Well, if I run 5 mn/km, it makes an easy 20mn and 40 mn split for the 4km and 8 km. That’s faster than what I can expect but it gives an order of magnitude. My plan, 3h45, should make about 21 mn for the 4 km.

After the bridge, I’m off the out-and-back area. I first run near the road, up high, and after the turn around, I’ll be down, near the river. It’s a great opportunity to try to spot Paul, and eventually Eric, later. But I can’t find either of them.
Now that I’ve been running for a little while on a flat portion I can look at the heart rate. 142 bpm. Hmmm. I’m normally running (training) at a very low heart rate, between 120 to 130. And I had to push in work-outs to reach my IM heart rate: 137 bpm. I’m trying to bring it down a notch but nothing does it. Even though I’m only jogging, the combination of excitement and tiredness makes the heart pump quickly. I just have to keep moving, while relaxing.

Meanwhile, I chat around and make a new friend. Sasha is German and is aiming at 3h40. That’s basically the same as my objective. Let’s do it together!

We’re having a funny « relationship »… He actually stops at each aid station. That’s good for me because he runs faster than me in-between. We catch each other all along.
Stopping at the aid station has its pros & cons : you rest and calm down, you drink / eat better but you loose time.
I’m not stopping – that’s my choice. As a result my filling rate (ratio of what goes in the mouth vs. what was in the cup) is not very good. I take 2 cups at each station, water and then energy drink. I think I manage to swallow 50% of the water, and 30% or 40% of the sport drink. The rest doesn’t make it into the mouth, or comes back out! So the left over finishes across the face and the chest… That’s when the sponges becomes handy. I got sticky hands from all the spilling: I can wash up while keeping cool. Neat!

4km in less than 20mn. That’s too fast. I have to slow down further (walking?). Relaxing and slowing down a notch you must! Yes Master.
As a result the yoyo effect (passing / being passed) with Sasha is emphasized …

I have reached the endless straight line, on the opposite river bank from the start/finish area. When I was looking at the map, months ago, I was thinking: “Man, that’s going to be a long stretch”. Well, I confirm. About 5 km without a turn is a long way even if the scenery changes.
I start fueling on gels. But I get small stomach aches. So I’ll reduce the intake amount, and will take some more often. I can’t go without!
I decide to sip on it just before an aid station so I can dilute it down right away with the water (what ever makes it in).
Eating (sipping rather) on a gel every other aid station allows me to fuel properly : Plenty of charcoal in the furnace!
Km 8, a little slower than the first 4 km. But still about 5 km/h. This is excellent, and I feel like I’m just cruising around. The jog is nice!
Soon I’ll be at the end of the long stretch and the turn around point. And I see Paul who’s already heading back.

I now reach something like a toll booth. Nothing to pay though (just your sweat). We simply get a bracelet. Each lap has its color wrist band Black, then yellow, red (that the German flag colors) and then beige. Once you’ve collected the 4 colors, you are allowed to proceed to the finish. 1 down, 3 to go.
Turn around = it’s the end of that mega loooooong stretch = we’re heading back towards the transition / finish area. On the way, it’s the second bridge to go over to return to the proper river bank. At the turn-around point, it’s SO crowded, it’s incredible. But I find them a little quiet (at the other turn-around, there weren’t even1/2 as many but they were at least twice as loud. So I wave and raise my arms as I go by.
The reaction is immediate. Clapping & cheering rise from the pack. Awesome!

The second bridge isn’t difficult either. I deal with it carefully, slowing down to keep the same effort. The following down hill section is however quite steep and then it’s back to the start point.

Less than 50 mn for 10 km, and I reset the watch at 10.5 km, to have a fresh (and comparable) start for the second loop.
I see Sandy as I start this loop. Guerlain is with her, but looking in the wrong direction… too bad.


Then, I see Paul, he’s just a little ahead of me. Slowly I catch up with him. I also spotted Eric earlier, a little behind. He mentioned some bike problems (cf. drafting). Whereas for Paul, it’s his feet that are causing him trouble. From the run start, it’s been painful. We knew that was the risk: Paul’s been struggling with the pain for quite some weeks now. He bares the pain and still gets moving.
I introduce him to Sasha, still around and we run side by side for a couple of km.
Once on the other bank, I somehow go in the front of them for a second: in some places or aid stations, there isn’t much room because it very crowded. Can’t run side by side.

But Paul and Sasha will never come back on me. I’m off by myself now.

Olivier is just like bit further – he’s waiting for me with food and others. I had given him some stuff in case of cravings. But all is good I don’t need any of it – thank you.

I continue my jogging around Frankfurt. It’s quite enjoyable. Except that once again my ego gets hurt! I get dropped, I mean crushed by a girl (yeap, I’m a sensitive man). But I got an excuse, she’s a pro and is heading to the second position finish. Incredible though how fast they can go, women like pro men. Insane!
Talking about pro men, just a few 100 m further, I see Faris – one of the most re-known German pros – calling it a day. Not sure what’s wrong but he’s walking away from the path, head down. Tough.

Nothing else noticeable to complete the second lap, it’s been the same old – jog, wave, drink, jog, … I have been a little bit slower than the first lap. But it’s under control – I don’t fear to explode (don’t even think about it). Since I was a tiny bit too fast against my pace this is great, right on pace now.
It’s 51 or 52 mn for the 10 km. I’ll reach the 10.5 km mark soon, which will put right at the marathon half way mark. This will be the first time I’ll look purposefully at the stop watch. So far I looked a the splits. Piece by piece. So finally after about 8hr of racing, I’ll see where I’m at. And I’ll be able to see what I’m aiming at today.
8h10. Let me think. I just did something like a low 1’40 in the first ½ marathon. If I do the same jog, that’s a sub 10 hours.
1- It’s incredible ! I must of done well on the bike.
2- Sub 10h ? That’s crazy !
3- 8h10 means 1h50 left, meaning 55 mn per lap, per 10.5 km.
4- Re-do the same as the first 2 laps seems so easy.

Man I’m thrilled. Totally pumped up I decide to bring it up a notch. Just like we intended in the plan. Even though I feel absolutely awesome, I know that somewhere I must be (a little bit) tired. I don’t feel heavy or anything. It’s amazing. I stayed at 142 bpm from the beginning of the run. I intend to bring it up to about 145 bpm.

145 bpm it is. It’s good. I feel the furnace running at full capacity now. It feels warm, but with the great weather, it doesn’t feel hot. It’s not painful either. Just perfect.
I’m careful with the aid stations, sipping on the gel, getting enough water & sport drink. With the slightly higher tempo, I spill even more than before. So it’s even more important that I don’t miss out any “refill”. I’m now using 2 sponges to watch up.

Equipped with my 2 color wrist bands I’m aiming at guys who are wearing same ones. They are direct competitors. And just like Spiderman swings from building to building, I swing from one guy to the next target. And the next. And the next. I’m actually passing quite bit now. Needless to say I feel even better now. Mind: 100%, Heart 100% under control, legs 100% good, all is good.

Sometimes I add salt or salt water to the run diet. It gives a good break for the taste (from the sweet) and I fear a cramp.

I finally see my parents, ½ way through the 3rd lap. They almost missed me as they were too busy cheering on perfect strangers. That’s what’s cool: everybody is cheering. « Here, I’m here ! » « Allez David » and here I go again.

Not so long after, I see a guy limping. His jersey says « Magnus ». So I yell “ Go Belgium ». He turns back… It IS him ! It’s incredible.
A few months ago I was surfing on the Net and found a blog of a Belgian triathlete. His objective : Frankfurt. So we exchanged a few emails. And here, out of 2,300 participants, I manage to find him. He’s hurting from a severe calf pain.

3rd wrist band : I now have the German flag colors and I belong to those whom are the most advanced: A lot of people have 2, 1 or no bracelet yet. They still have a long way to go. And somewhere I’m glad of where I am.
Turn around at the end of the looooong stretch while rising my arms (!), the 2nd bridge, and it’s already back to transition area. I’m completing this third lap with my full capacities, felling so energized.
I press on the stopwatch at the 10.5 km mark, to make it easy to calculate the final – tentative – time.
53 mn for 10.5 km, I’m 9h03 into the race. If I repeat that 53mn... Let me do the math : That’s -7 mn against the hour and I’m 3 mn over the over. -7 + 3 = -4 mn. I have about 4 mn spare to complete what would an incredible sub 10 hr. I’m doing it !

I have tears coming to my eyes now that I realize I can do it. I can do a sub 10hr. It’s right there, right up the alley (yes, it’s a long one). I close my wrists, breath deep not to cry, and resume my run tempo.


10.5km to go. A single lap. The first ones went so easily.
Alright, I finally take off the hand brake (holding off any testosterone racing urge) and let go. I speed up, allowing to reach 150 bpm. I can hold it 50 some minutes I’m sure.
I see the girls, Celine et Virginie. There too I have to call them: « Let’s go girls” « ah, it’s David… Go David !» I tighten my jaws. 9 km to go. I’m gonna do it!

First bridge, no more energy saving mode. It’s not the conservative run. It’s so much fun, the machine is working perfectly.
Km 2, I don’t look at the split time. I keep catching up. It’s unbelievable.
Km 4, less than 20mn ! I’m so quick, man ! I’m so happy that I skip / mess up during 2 aid station, missing out on taking gel. I’ve been drinking, but not eating.
I’m now at the beginning of the one long stretch. I should of eaten… My thighs are burning now. It’s the first time today that I actually feel the burn!
An Ironman isn’t going to come easy. What were you thinking? Especially a sub 10…
Very very painful legs, and I feel my body starting to run empty. The fire is dimming!
It’s official, I get hit right there by tiredness – it caught up with me!

No need to panic, I’ve done the job. I ran in survival mode quite a few times during practice. I simply need to put the pain & weakness aside and focus on the technique. Short strides, high cadence. Let’s go, short cadence… no, no, short strides, high cadence. Focusing is now tough.
I move painfully. I can’t wait to see my parents. It’s my new aim. I don’t focus on other guys. It feels like I’ll never get there.
Finally. Here they are, still with the flag. “go to the finish” I try to say.

1 km, 1.5 km to go before the last bracelet and then it will be the final turn around. I’m the shaded area. I don’t pass people like me (with the 3 colors) anymore. Or very slowly. Some actual pass me now. They finish strong.
I’m down the drain, having only bad thoughts : I hurt, I’m slow, I’m tired, want to rest… I’m at the bottom of the well.
My ultimate hope or aim is this turn around point. I feel it will be down hill from there (even though I’ll still have to go over the bridge one last time).

Slowly, but in good cadence, I get there. I don’t even want to rise my arms up in the air to get some noisy support. But I got to do it! I put my hands up, and I hear some clapping and cheering. Even that sounds tired!

In a few key positions along the course, there are timing mats. Every time I go over one, I think of the friends checking the progress on Internet. And at point, it’s great support ! They must know I’m almost there, that the great finish is right there...

But 50 m further and I’m all alone again, in my head. Km8: there’s 2.5 km to go. Come on now! 2.5km, that’s nothing!
It seems that the light is coming back. I guess the gels I took during the “black-out” period start to kick in. Or it’s simply psychological…Anyway, I catch up with 2 guys (4 bracelets now). That feels good again.
At this point, knowing that others struggle more than you do is comforting (sick thought don’t you think ?).

So there are 3 of in the same boat as we’re reaching the final climb over the bridge. All of the sudden, a 4th guy, a German, over takes us screaming something. Somehow I understood what he said (don’t ask how): we better hurry if we want to break 10 hr he said as he ran by us.
There is 1.5 km left.
I thought I had margin for the 10hr, a few minutes… But I don’t want to risk it. I hammer the climb, powerfully pushing each stride. (now, let’s get real here: This is how it felt, strong, power, bla bla, but I’m sure that it’s NOT what it LOOKED like in real, after 10hr…). So forcefully, I take off on the bridge, leaving my recent companions. The German guy remains in front at a distance. I caught up to his speed but can’t make up ground on him. It’s pain time, but I’m ok, it’s the end!

I’m flying down the bridge, passing just about anybody who’s there (people with remaining laps). 700m to go. I’m there, I’m there.

Last stretch to the switch point towards the finish area, term of the 4th lap. I’m all out. My thighs can’t take it anymore.
Argh ! I feel the contraction, the biceps femoris again(remember, the muscle between the butt cheek and the back of the knee). It’s coming back! It can’t be. 40km without a problem and it shows up now?! I keep pushing. Go go! It’s getting tighter and tighter.
What do I do ? Stop to stretch ? Keep going ?
Keep going ! At each step, I can feel the ball growing bigger in the muscle.
Not now! Please….
I keep going. I reach the transition zone, I’m off to the finish area : yippy !

I’m now running in front of crowded bleachers. But I don’t hear a thing. I’m in my thing.
Km 42m !
Ooops, I forgot, it’s 42.2 km for the marathon! Rats !

I check my watch. It already shows 10hr something… 200m to go. I only have few seconds left, the ones between the time I started the watch, and the actual swim start: about 30 sec.
I don’t know if that’s sufficient or not. ALL OUT!!!

I sprint (again I intend to sprint but it still might look like a jog) the last 200 m. It’s over cobblestones again, covered with a carpet (red, or course), stuck in between 2 barriers on each side. Just enough room for one person.
The bleachers climb very high on both sides with a bunch of people waving, clapping, cheering. I don’t hear a thing – I’m in my sprint to beat the clock.

I give it all, last turn, 50 m to go. I see the sign still showing 9h something. Yes, go go.
I reach it at 9h59 and some small things.
…
(You can breath now, I’m exhausted too)


I go through the finish tightening my wrist while screaming (grunting ?). It came from far inside and was a quite primitive sound…

I feel dizzy and purposely go near the post to lean / fall against it. Leaning against it, with my hands on my knees, I feel I’m going to collapse. I’m dead.

But no. All of the sudden, the energy is back on. I stand up, get my finisher towel and medal – with a HUGE smile across the face.
Olivier is just a little further. Big hug!
Unfortunately the rest of the « fans » missed it. 45 mn earlier than expected: that’s simply poor planning!


I head to the “village” to eat a little, and I go meet the rest of the family. Soon after I go back in to change and I meet Eric & Paul. They had the luxury to finish together in great time as well.
We get together at a table : a real beer (with alcohol please), deli meat, some fruits and pie. Now we’re talking. Cheers ! What a moment !


Thanks for all the support provided, from those right next to me to the very far away ones, including the supportive emails (you’re nuts, it’s insane, you’re mad…).
Thanks for reading the blog, for meeting VERY early in the morning to do a little training on week-ends, for sending home made jelly or getting me a coffee while listening to my tough training stories, for letting me crash in bed early, for the guidance in training, in cycling or running or for the good recovery therapy.
Thank for tolerating my Monday mornings where I was quite happy to be back at work, so I could seat down! …
It was my challenge, with you.
Thank you

Now I’m going to need your support again. I need to find a new title for the blog: Because as of July 6th, I’m an Ironman.