Ironman 70.3 Lessons – Part 1: The Clock Is Always Ticking

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The number on the scale read 272. At one time or another, most of us carry a few extra pounds but that number was much more than “a few extra.” Needless to say, I needed to make some changes.

Motivation

I don’t enjoy exercise for the sake of exercise. I understand the value and benefit, but to be honest, I hate it. On the other hand, adventure and exploration have great appeal. A goal to reach or challenge to meet is much more in line with my nature.

I need something on the calendar to motivate me. A looming date that if I don’t train and stay in shape, I’ll die. Not literally, of course. Well, possibly. Not really… but, maybe.

In 2010, I decided to climb a mountain with a buddy of mine. We set a date and put money down on a guide company. It got serious quick and was time to get to work.

I dropped the weight. Got in shape. Six months later I was standing on top of Mount Rainier, the tallest glaciated volcano in the Lower 48. It was a blast!

Two men stand on the summit of Mount Rainier
On the summit of Mount Rainier, 2010

A new challenge

Because we live in the South with no big mountains nearby, I needed to find something else to keep me going. So, I trained for and completed my first marathon. The only other race I had done before this was a 5K “Fun Run” (a misnomer to be sure). I wanted another challenge and Ironman 70.3 was soon in my sights.

For this series of posts, I want to be clear about something. The parallels I’m drawing are based on my experience as a finisher, not a competitive racer. There’s nothing fast about me. Like my friend says, “I’m a dump truck full of gas. I can go far but I’m not very fast.”

When I talk about racing Ironman, I don’t actually mean racing. What I mean is pushing myself and crossing the finish line having given my best.

This series is about what I learned from training for and succesfully completing an Ironman 70.3.

What is Ironman 70.3?

A 70.3 consists of a 1.2-mile swim, a 56-mile bicycle ride, then you hop off and get to run a half marathon (13.1 miles) with jello-legs. Sounds fun, doesn’t it?

You train. You dial in your systems for nutrition, rest, bicycle and gear, and eventually the big race day arrives.

You have to hit certain cut off times or else you receive a DNF (Did Not Finish). The times are pretty generous but if you’re slow like me, you do have to keep an eye on things.

Here are the rules:

  • Swim: Each wave will have 1:10 to complete the swim.
  • Bike: 5 hours and 30 minutes after the final wave start.
  • Run: 8 hours and 30 minutes after the final wave start.

You have 8.5 hours to finish the whole thing. Based on my training, I figured I could finish in 7.5 hours or better giving me some room to spare. Honestly, I didn’t care if my time was 07:59:59, I just didn’t want to be the guy rolling in last.

When I run any race, I really only have three goals:

  1. Learn something.
  2. Have fun.
  3. Finish.

I knew this one would be a “sufferfest.” But, I felt good about the prospect of finishing.

On race day, you start early in the morning and there are always jitters. Maria was incredible and helped get my bike and all my gear into the transition area and ready to go.

You shuffle to the start with thousands of other people and wait. The gun finally sounds and the clock starts.

Lesson 1: The clock is always ticking.

That’s the first parallel I want to draw: In life, the clock is always ticking.

In a race, you focus on so many different things. You have transitions (more on that later), technical aspects of the bike, nutrition, pacing, and everything else, not to mention the mental game.

So, you aren’t always thinking about time. It’s there in the back of your mind but the effort to keep moving forward is the thing that drives you. The finish line beckons. It calls you. It teases you.

It’s easy to forget that time is running out. But, the cutoffs are there taunting you. Every now and then I look at my watch to check my pace but most of the time I’m not even aware the clock is ticking.

In life, it’s the same. The clock is always ticking. Time is running out. But, we aren’t aware of it.

We get busy. Focused on all the things life throws at us. Just trying to survive through the mundane.

The hard truth is that this race is coming to an end whether you like it or not. You either finish your race or you don’t. I think it’s important to take inventory often because the clock is always ticking.

The. Clock. Is. Always. Ticking.

Teach us to number our days…

Teach us to number our days,
that we may gain a heart of wisdom.

Psalm 90:12 (NIV)

Just because something is cliche’ doesn’t mean it’s not true. And, life truly is shorter than we think.

It’s not about how fast you can go, but about how far. Ask yourself:

  • Am I taking steps?
  • Am I moving forward?
  • Am I growing?
  • Am I giving my best?
  • Where am I in the journey?

I don’t want to be disqualified because I sat down and quit. Because I gave up. I don’t want a DNF because I wasted time away, sitting on the sidelines avoiding the thing just because it’s hard.

I want to keep moving. I want to finish the race in time.

It’s not about how fast you can go, but about how far.

How did it turn out?

So, how did I fare? I had a pretty fast swim, finishing in thirty-three minutes. My bike time was decent (for me) especially with all the hills.

The run. The run sucked. It’s where I always suffer most. I hate it. And, this particular day was super-hot making things even more miserable.

But, around mile four of the run, I started doing some math. If I could keep a certain pace, I could finish with a sub-seven hour time. Before I started, this thought wasn’t even a possibility. Surviving was the main goal.

I finished in 06:57:39.

Now, compare my time to the pros and it is extremely slow. But, I wasn’t racing them. I was racing me (again, more on this later) and I’m proud of my time and finish.

During the race, time unexpectantly became important. But, only when I became aware of it. I looked at the watch and started doing the math. Then impossibility became possible and I pushed myself harder.

…impossibility became possible and I pushed myself harder

The first lesson I learned is that the clock is always ticking in racing and in life.

So, take some time and look at the clock. Take inventory. It’s never too late to push yourself. The results might just surprise you.