Ironman Texas
Ironman Texas – Pro Series
After a successful race in Oceanside, I expected an even better performance in Texas, as I was in top shape and my recovery and training had gone really well here in The Woodlands. My heat adaptation was perfect, and I felt like I could take on the world — and chase the Norwegian hype-train! But my fueling plan needs definitely some more tuning in such hard and over the top races. My stomach issues before races and my histamine allergy make things difficult. This means no coffee, no restaurant food, and everything needs to be freshly cooked with each ingredient checked for histamine levels. When you focus too much on nutrition before a race, you can overlook the important things you need to do during the race itself!
The Woodlands is an amazing place, filled with trees, bushes, and plenty of water. Many kind Americans live here, and I spent hours training on my bike around the area. Not once did a car honk at me or someoe shout at me to “get off the road.” Most European cyclists know exactly what I’m talking about. People here were proud that a triathlete from Switzerland would be racing the famous Ironman in Texas! Many people I met told me they watch it every year and support every athlete. I was excited for the race!
I had an amazing start in the swim! For the first 2.5 km, I focused on conserving energy and staying in second position. Since the pace wasn’t very fast, many athletes tried to overtake me, and I had to fight to maintain my place. As we neared the last 1.5km of the swim and entered the canal, the situation became more intense. I had to fend off athletes drafting off my hips, and one guy kept swimming into my feet every 5 seconds. I sprinted past the leading athlete and suddenly found a more comfortable pace. I stayed at the front, free of the pushing from all sides, and I was surprised by how much easier leading the race was. I wasn’t aiming to get the title: "first out of the water", I was leading because it allowed me to swim at my prefered open-water pace.
I was the first out of the water (LOL), and I had a great position to prepare for the fast start of the 180 km bike ride. I knew the guys would push hard from the start, hammering out 350+ watts for the first 40 km. Willy Hirsch was doing exactly that! I raced against him in Frankfurt, where he instantly dropped me, and in Barcelona, where I only managed to stay with him because Jan Stratmann led the charge to get us back to Willy with a relentless pace. Back in the Ironman Texas I was in control, and everything was going well for the first 90 km. I didn’t have to push my body to the limit, and the pace felt manageable for the remaining 90 km. But around 120-130 km, I suddenly started to fade. My power dropped from around 300 watts to 200 watts. I couldn’t push harder, and I had to watch other athletes overtake me, slowly losing touch with the group. It was like arriving at a train station and seeing the train leave, knowing you’ll have to wait 20 minutes for the next one. I was in no man’s land, with no power and no fuel, having used up most of my calculated carbs within the first 140 km. Looks like I didn’t plan well enough for those conditions, as my focus was too much on eating histamine-friendly food. After the race, I plugged all my sodium and water losses, along with my required carbs (100g per hour), into ChatGPT and listed all my drinks consumed over the 4 hours. Here’s the response from our good friend ChatGPT: Deficit after 4h bike: 2L of Water, 40g of carbs, 2.5g of Sodium = big risk of performance collapse and cramps!
The last 40 km on the bike were a survival test. It was incredibly painful to ride with no carbs, pushing 180 watts in the most aero position possible with a heart rate of 130 bpm. I managed to get three gels from aid stations, but somehow, it felt like only a little bit of the gel was getting absorbed, while the rest just stuck in my stomach. Nonetheless, I swallowed all three gels within 45 minutes, desperately trying to get more carbs. The last 5 km were the worst — slow and painful. But I had to get back anyway; no one was coming to pick me up on the highway in Texas!
Getting off the bike, I was wobbling and hardly able to run or walk. I overheard some spectators talking to each other: “Uff, look at this guy — he’s cooked.” I thought, “Yep, that’s me!” Usually, I get to T2, put on my shoes, watch and hat, and I’m off. This time, I sat down, and a guy brought me water and Coke. I started drinking 4-5 cups before I even began to change. I had pain in my back, and my body felt extremely weak. Somehow, I knew there was no way I could run a marathon after being in a big fuel, water, and sodium deficit for about an hour. But hey, it’s an Ironman, you need to be tough, so I didn’t care. Slowly, I started walking out of the tent and began running, very slowly. With all the support from spectators, I managed to run at a 4:00 pace. Don’t ask me how I did it — it just worked somehow.
Additionally, I was getting cramps from the gels that hadn’t digested. Even drinking plenty of water at the aid stations didn’t help with the severe stomach cramps. After the first few kilometers, I could feel the pain, and I was only able to maintain the pace because I was in race mode. But it was impossible to continue like that, and I had to stop the race with tears in my eyes. It wasn’t the result I had come all the way to Texas for. Despite my good performance in Oceanside, I wasn’t happy and was very frustrated with my fueling plan for the 4 hours on the bike.
But you live, you learn, and you move on. I’m glad I’ll have another chance soon to prove that I’ve come a long way, and my fitness is at the highest level it’s ever been. A big thanks to all of you for your support. Without it, coming back from my illness would have seemed impossible. So cheers for your support!