Ironman Frankfurt 2016 – Darren Kearney
The Road to Ironman Frankfurt …
I always wondered why so many people refer to their Ironman experience as a “Journey” in their race reports. Sitting here writing this now I get it and now this feels like the right time to share mine. Buckle up it was a bit of a bumpy ride!
Up until 6 years ago I didn’t even know what triathlon was. I was a retired basketball player who’d done nothing for several years. My athletic career had ended as a result of a ruptured Achilles tendon in 2003. In 2008 I was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis which after a long illness resulted in my entire large bowel being removed in 2010. On the 9th and 12th May 2010 I had two operations which left me with a colostomy bag.
While I was in hospital the rented TV had 5 channels one of which was Eurosport. For some reason Triathlon was on a lot. That was my introduction.
I had lost over 5 stone and most of my muscle mass during my illness in 2010. I clearly remember my wife having to help me up the stairs and to walk to the wall at the end of our front garden – some 30ft and saying to myself “I never want to be like this again …”. Little did I know how profoundly this would change my outlook on life.
Once I was strong enough the rebuilding/rehabilitation process started. I couldn’t do much but I had enjoyed cycling when younger so I dusted off the bike and joined the local gym to give swimming a try. By Christmas I decided I’d pick a challenge as a new year’s resolution – triathlon came to mind and the Portlaoise sprint triathlon of April 2011 was quickly booked. GULP!
I finished, after walking the run, and I was so overcome by the sense of personal achievement, the friendliness of the event and the other athletes I was hooked. I did another 4 triathlons in 2011 culminating in DCT Olympic which at the time was my “Ironman”. That was such a poignant moment for me as 5 days later I was to start the process of reconstructing a new bowel and another journey into the unknown. That ultimately took 3 more operations, several stays in hospital and 2 years to come through. In many ways it was tougher than the illness itself but thankfully I ended up in a good place.
Once I felt ready I wanted to return to Triathlon. Over this time Paddy Holohan had moved in two houses down from me. We became friends and at the end of 2014 I decided to jump on the bus going to IM Majorca 70.3. This was serious so I joined Pulse with Paddy. What a good decision that turned out to be.
On the 9th May 2015 I completed the Majorca IM 70.3, coincidently on the fifth anniversary of losing my bowel. The scale of this was not lost on me or anyone who knew my story and all this did was to spur me on. “How far can I take this” my mind kept asking me. I kicked on from this to do Dublin IM 70.3 and my first marathon in Dublin later in 2015.
What a year … probably impossible to top … no wait … now to the nutty idea of attempting a full Ironman.
After a thorough review of all IM races (NOT) I became a victim of group-think and jumped on the Frankfurt bus with 17 others from Pulse. Only afterwards did I review 2015’s race … non-wetsuit, temperature in the high 30’s … OMG I am “thick” some times. Ah well in now so might as well get on with it.
Training plans, nutrition plans, etc … god help me I’m not that structured. Some of us decided to follow the Don Fink “Be IronFit” competitive plan and it all kicked off in December with a 30 week plan. Training was manic with two sessions most weekdays and six days a week. It’s true what they say it does take over. The commitment you have to give is total and other aspects of your live definitely suffer. Without a rock at home willing to support and take up the slack it would never have been possible. In that regard I was blessed. My wife Michelle, who’s had to put up with a lot with me, was there 100% yet again.
I was very lucky – my buddy and next door neighbor, Sam, was also doing Frankfurt so we did most of our training together. On Saturdays we tied in with some of the other Frankfurt Pulsers (Anthony, Paul, Mick, Susan, Joanna, Siobhan, Clare, Keith) for our long spins, Tuesday morning became a regular at Kevin’s torturous 90 minute spin class and Thursday morning became my weekly flogging at the hands of Alan and Dazz in the pool. All of this company and comradery helped make the training easier and maximum respect to anyone who was disciplined to get through it otherwise.
Throughout my training I worked Darren Kelly’s (DK Orthotics) preventive maintenance skills to the max to ensure that everything that could be done to keep me injury free was. It will be no surprise to anyone that knows him – he did an excellent job!
30 weeks of training, a few scares with chest infections and phantom injuries came to the end. Hopefully I was ready for the main event, I was happy that I’d done as much as I could.
At last the time arrived to head to Germany. This was something “extra” special – 17 Pulsers, 13 of us IM virgins and a massive support crew all on the move. That does not happen every other day. The mere scale of this amplified everything exponentially. Everyone fed off everyone else’s nerves, anxiousness, ideas, laughs and so on. Truly special.
But amongst all of this there was a race to do. Despite some of the horror stories we’d heard about problems with the buses getting to/from the lake I did not experience any of it and the preparation went smoothly without any (extra) stress. I was “ready” – well I hoped I was.
Race morning started early, weirdly I wasn’t nervous, which is how I would normally be before something that matters. I think I was mentally comfortable that I could have done no more to get where I was and had accepted that I had what I had and we would see if it was enough.
Breakfast done, bag grabbed and I headed for the bus with the pulse gang. The energy from everyone’s apprehension was electric and I reckon everyone could sense it.
Out to the lake, painless, considering the amount of people heading there. The organizers had this nailed. Time to get organized and ready for the swim. Thanks to Chris for pinning my wetsuit on perfectly and into the pen I went. This year the race had a rolling start based on estimated swim time. This made for a far more civilized swim start.
So into the water and I’m off. The swim was 2 loops, 1.5k and 2.3k with an Australian exit. The buoys on the 1st loop were yellow and that made sighting a little hard as there were several permanent buoys in the water which were also yellow and I found this a bit confusing. Swim wise felt comfortable, water was lovely and I felt I was making reasonable progress. I reached the Australian exit in 31 mins but with over 1700m swam. If only I could swim straight but I was going good.
Here was the first test … I have the worse swimming legs in the world and cramp with unbelievable ease and I was worried that getting out at the Australian exit would trigger them off. Anyone who’s witnessed me dragging myself out of the pool or Sea during one of the swimming sessions knows what I’m referring to.
Back into the water and I could immediately feel the left foot tighten … oh crap … but thankfully about a minute later it went away. I found two swimmers, who were slightly quicker than me, that were swimming side by side a couple of feet apart. I swam between them, totally unapologetically, and found a perfect draft and a way to keep me swimming in a straight line J
I was going good and reached the last turn without any sign of cramping. Perhaps I could actually finish the swim I said to myself. Funny but as soon as this thought entered my head … bang … right foot and calf cramped right up … shit … I’ve about 800m to go. A few minutes of frantic toe curling and leg shaking later the cramps released and thankfully didn’t show their face again. The finish arch loomed large, under I went … I had finished the swim. 1hr 21mins, I would never have thought that was in me. I exited the water feeling 10 feet tall. This was my biggest worry over. I’d made it. I saw the Pulsers and I went over to Chris and just shouted “I made it!”. I was pumped.
Off to T1 … I saw Sam. We exchanged a massive hug and some words of encouragement and got on with getting ready for the bike. An age later, not my best T1 ever, I headed out on the bike.
The rumored “flat” bike course started with 25k run back into Frankfurt which was flat. This was great as I was spinning away nicely and had the opportunity to get the heart rate to settle down and get some nutrition in. The first hill came around 25k, it was a long enough climb of about 4-5% incline so it was a good test of the legs. They didn’t feel great but not awful. They would truly be tested later.
I got over and the same for the next few which came quickly after each other. Overall the first 60k went well, I was averaging around 30k and staying comfortably within my heart rate range. All good.
I met a few of the other Pulsers along the way. Everyone was going well – it was great to see.
At 65k the course looped back towards Frankfurt and OMG we turned into a really strong headwind. Average speed dropped like a stone despite upping the work rate. This was hard as there was no cover anywhere. Towards the end of the first lap I reached “Heartbreak Hill”. You turn a corner and the hill stretches out straight in front of you. The yellow inflatable arches drawing your eye upwards making it look like a wall. I reached the bottom and got the loudest cheer from some pulse supporters and then the same again half way up. The guys were everywhere – no surprise they’re brilliant!!
Over the top and downhill to Frankfurt and to the turn point where more supporters cheered me on. Pulse were taking over Frankfurt J
The first half of the second loop was uneventful and I felt I made good progress and then to the turn back. Wind was still there and then, if that wasn’t bad enough it started to rain very heavily. Conditions were horrible for the rest of the bike. By the end I was frozen, shivering violently and I had a moment when my heart rate dropped dramatically for a couple of minutes which was … mmm … interesting.
I was glad to see the back of the bike but not for the reasons I thought I would. 6hrs 30min, a bit slower than I was hoping for but the bike was much tougher than expected given the actual course profile and weather. Definitely had to work harder than I wanted to. Into T2 and thankfully I had a full change of clothes waiting for me as. Quick(ish) change and off I went on the run.
I’ve always refused to call the run “a marathon” because I knew that would make it seem “more” in my mind. The plan was to run to 6:45 – 7:00 pace in at the top of heart rate zone 1 and hopefully not have to walk. But as I was soon to learn one should not over plan the end of your first Ironman race.
Run started to plan and 2.5k in and I encountered the first pulse supporter hotspot outside the hotel we were staying in. The girls shuck me out of my slumber with the veracity of their screams from a couple of 100 metres away (I was amazed they could talk the following day). Up over the bridge and onto the back side of the loop. This part of the course felt like a local race. With 17 pulsers on the course you always spotted someone to share a few words with here and they were all flying. Down along the other side of the river and past the green bridge and you hit the main pulse hotspot.
The guys totally outdid themselves here, our names on the road, a clothes line of flags, and the most amazing welcome and support anyone could have wished for.
Off to the end of the run course to pick up first band and back around again. The first few laps went totally to plan – half way there around 2hrs 20mins and feeling ok. Its scary how quickly the wheels can come off though. Within the next couple of kms I was really struggling and my legs where seizing up quickly. I was around the 23-24k mark and I had clearly hit the wall and there was a long way to go.
My lasting memory from the remainder of the run was not how bad it was but how amazing the support from the pulse supporters and my friend Anne Coleman (Lucan Cycling Club who was over supporting her Husband, Dave and Angela from Active Multisport triathlon club) was and how much it helped me. I owe all of them a massive thank you as without their help I really wonder if I’d have made it. There are some images I will never forget though. Jen and Pamela running down to hug and support me, Niall, Chris (my unofficial coach for the day!) and Richie cheering me on and running/walking with me for a short time, Barbara, Michelle, Lesley-Ann and Anne outside our hotel (their energy was infectious) and Ethne’s dad with his wise words and a gentle but firm push in the back.
All of this combined with the stubbornness of a mule got me to the finish shoot.
As I plodded in, crying my eyes out, I spotted the other pulse ironmen. I ran over to them. Sam crushed me with a hug and I was mobbed by the others. Wow some welcome. What a “tight” group we’d become.
I was floating on air going up the finishing shoot. What a feeling, what a day, what a “journey”.
An Ironman is not easy but whatever you put in you get back with interest – well I certainly did.
I have no further race plans for this year, I intend to invest some time with my family which have taken 2nd place to Ironman for the last while. For the future I will be back training soon (it’s just 1 week post-race and I’m twitchy already) and sure you’ll never know … I’m loving this too much to give up now.
What I do know is that if I can achieve something like this this anyone can and no one should ever under estimate what they can achieve with a little determination and the willingness to work.
Finally – I know this has been a long read – I’d like to say a massive thank you to all my friends at Pulse. It’s some club, it’s just full of wonderful people. I’m blessed to be part of it.
Thanks for your time – I hope you found this interesting.