For the Glory of Physical Achievement

By Jim Muehe, 1982

Countdown to Ironman

09.08.82 – 2am

I went to bed at 9pm very tired. Now it’s 2am and once again I awoke, my first thoughts are of Ironman. In the past week, I have become very intense about my last hurdle before Hawaii; The Mighty Hampton’s Triathlon. I feel strong enough to place in my age group and maybe even win a trophy. This will give me the added confidence to train hard these last weeks which is so important.

My body is strong, hardened by the last 25 weeks of concentrated physical preparation. My mind has become very intense. This Saturday I plan on going hard in each event. For the first time (my fourth triathlon), I feel I will be competitive. I am trying to cut back my training this week and taper. It’s not easy. I will push this Saturday.

The Mighty Hamptons Triathlon

09.11.82 – 7am

I check my bike in and start walking toward the swim start, 1 mile away. Press are everywhere, and TV cameras. The best are assembled here today. Scott TInley – 1982 Ironman Champion, Dave Scott – 1980 Ironman Champion, John Howard – 1981 Ironman Champion and 3-time Olympic cyclist. I talk to John before and after the event. He’s a very soft-spoken person, but a real animal inside. Julie Moss – 2nd place Ironman Finisher and Allison Roe, woman’s world-record holder in the marathon are also here.

The water is mild – not like the last race I did in Rhode Island. There is some movement in the sound, but nothing to worry about. The gun goes off and we all run to the water. It is a great start. I am not kicked or pushed like I have been in other races. The 1-mile swim goes quickly and I leave the water in 86th place overall.

I exit the water and soon learn that the bags I placed next to my bike are gone. Someone moved them down and it takes me 6 minutes to find them. My best swim time, and it’s wasted on looking for my bags. Suddenly I am in 110th place out of 350+ competitors. Time to make up some time… I get out of the saddle and turn the crank like I’ve never turned it before. I am determined to make up for the bag mistake, and stick to my game plan of pushing in each event. I set my sights on passing everyone I can find, resulting in me completing the 25-mile bike in 1:11, avg. 20.8 mph. As I get off my bike and change into my running gear, I am in 79th place overall.

Game plan for the running is the same as the previous 2 events; go as fast as I can, for as long as I can; anyone in front of me should be passed. I am running sub-7-minute miles. The run is 10 miles, and I finish in 67 minutes, 56th place overall, and 7th place in my age group. At the awards banquet late, they call my name and I receive my award. I am interviewed by ESPN, the sports network for cable TV. I accomplish what I want to in this triathlon, my last hurdle before Ironman. This race gives me the confidence I am looking for. Now I can start packing. In 7 days I will be on the big island of Hawaii, training for the ultimate test of physical endurance. I want to place in the top 100 at Ironman. I will then be ranked as an endurance athlete.

Back at Work

09.17.82

My recovery from The Mighty Hamptons Triathlon is quick. Just one day of rest, and I am back into the workout routine. Monday, 09.13, I run 12 miles at a 7-minute pace and bike 20 miles in one hour. Tuesday, I hit my old favorite run course, 8 miles in 56:01, a 6:35 pace. Wednesday, 12-mile run and a little swim. Thursday, a 16-mile run with Jim Menger at a 7-minute pace.

My office throws me a party. It’s a great send-off; cards, banners, presents, and good-luck wishes from all my co-workers. I thank God to have such a great group that has backed me while preparing and competing for Ironman. I’ll be gone for almost a month.

I leave the party and go to the bike shop to pick up my new set of wheels, and my freshly tuned-up bike. Joe spent about 6 hours making sure everything was in top shape. I thank him and feel really good about the bike. I am confident I will not have any problems. I am bringing two sets of wheels. I figure on breaking in the new wheels for about 150 miles, taking them off and doing the balance of my training on my old set and sew ups. I am also taking 4 spare sew ups, 3 pumps, etc. etc. etc …

I am now on my first leg of the journey, that will take me to the big island of Hawaii. My first stop is Phoenix, where I will spend the weekend with my parents and hopefully be working out with my younger brother, Chris. He is also into endurance training.

As soon as I arrive at my parents home, I unpack my bike and set up, ready for a no-pressure ride in the Arizona heat. I ride west towards the White Tank Mountains. I keep looking at my watch because time is ticking away and the mountains don’t seem to get any closer. The course is rough asphalt – a little bumpy with a slight upgrade as I approach the mountains. There is a Navy fighter squadron base off to the west and the planes are constantly doing maneuvers. The White Tank Park seems very desolate, filled with cactus and tumbleweed. This out and back course takes me just under 2 hours. One hour out and 58 minutes back, and I figure it between 38 & 40 miles.

I am tired from very little sleep the night before my flight and the workout is enough to convince myself it is time to rest and have a few beers.

We sit down to dinner at about 5:30pm. Swiss steak and potato salad. It is good to taste meat again, as it has been a few weeks since I had any. So I was not bashful about a second helping. It is sure nice to see mom and dad again. My sister, Jackie, and her two little ones, Lindsey and Jennifer, have been visiting for the last two weeks from Illinois. I have a nice reunion. It has been three years.

Chris and Julie, and their son Ryan arrive later. It has also been three years since I have seen them. The next morning, after a good nights sleep (9:30pm – 7am) Chris and I go to the pool for a 20-minute swim. Then we get our bike gear and head out to the 40-mile bike course at White Tank Mountain. This is where I make a big mistake. I didn’t bring my helmet. At the turnaround point I am going too fast downhill. I hit some gravel and go face first into a pile of rocks. My neck is sore and I feel my knee. It is cut up pretty bad. Chris goes for help; thank god there is a couple passing by in a station wagon. We ask them to take me to the hospital. It’s about 15 miles away and the Good Samaritans are happy to help us out with an attitude that hopefully someday, in their time of need, someone will return to them.

Valley View Hospital is small, and in a quiet section of Peoria. We go directly to the Emergency Room and I am immediately taken care of. I am scraped up pretty bad. The whole side of my face, from the forehead to the chin, has to have sand removed and I require several stitches below my eye. I feel strong, but have trouble moving my neck from the crash, so they take several x-rays which prove to be negative. I am a mess, all I can think of is all the training I have done and then leaving early to do more training in Hawaii and having to acclimate – it just doesn’t seem fair. By Sunday my face stops swelling, but my neck is so stiff it a major project to turn and talk to someone. With aspirin and first-aid ointment, I start to come around and feel good enough to try a little bike – just 1 mile – and a 3-mile run. The second mile was a 6:58 pace, but I feel tired and sick.

This is No Vacation

09.20.82

Today I feel 100% better and am on the flight from Phoenix to San Francisco, then on to Hawaii. Hopefully in a few days I’ll be back to normal and can train again.

“This is no vacation, folks.”

Twenty-four days in Hawaii sounds great, right? Forget it! You can feel the pressure of competition as soon as you land in Kona. You see the flowered lei couples, smoking cigarettes, talking about how many different restaurants they will eat at, and how many sail boats they will count as they drink their Rum Punches and Blue Hawaiis. I’m here for something else, and I seek out anyone carrying an athletic bag with a crash helmet. I can also spot them by their physique, lean and mean, with tiger eyes, all for the glory of physical achievement and to wear the finisher t-shirt and Ironman medal.

I wake up at 3:30am (why not, it’s 9:30am NY time). It will take me days to adjust to the 6-hour time change. I am not fully healed as yet, My eye still hurts, and my head and neck, too. So what. I continue to train; nothing can stop me now! I check the water at 6:15am. Lots of fisherman, probably pulling in their meals for later. No swimmers, I wonder why? I ask around and find out that there was a fishing tournament the day before and 300-400 lb. marlins were brought in. The blood attracted the sharks (lovely). I am glad the doctor told me to wait until Thursday so that the stitches around my eye can seal. Everyone assures me that the sharks will go back out to sea. This is the big time, folks. From jelly fish to sharks; from 1.5-mile swims to 2.5 mile swims, from 60-mile bike races to 112 miles, and from 10-mile runs to 26.

I put my bike gear on around 7:30 and head out for a nice ride in the country. Forget it. After two miles, I start seeing how fast I can go. I pass the airport, 9 miles from the hotel, in 20 minutes. That’s right, 27 miles per hour! I figure this was my day and at that point decide to go the whole 112-mile bike course. No one passes me. At about the 35-mile mark, I catch up to Mitch from Reno, Nevada and we begin to ride together, and do a lot of talking. At about this time the trade winds start blowing directly with us, at I would guess 40 mph. We seem to be going more uphill than flat. I want to reach Hawi, the turnaround point, 56 miles, in three hours. It is an optimistic thought with these winds, but we make it and see about four bikes at a restaurant so we stop. We fill up with water, eat a tuna fish sandwich, down several Pepsis, and stay long enough to meet Mike from Plainfield, NJ, Katherine from Santa Monica (who looked more like a Russian weight lifter than anything else) and Linda from Connecticut. Five minutes of war stories and we are back on the bike to return. It is eaier going back and we stop after another 22 miles to fill up with more liquid. More bikes stop and all we do is talk about (what else?) the triathlon.

My friend Mike Kasser, comes up and shakes my hand. He’s been here for three days and we decide to have dinner that night about 8pm. Mike’s having a good year; his second Ironman this year (two months in Hawaii), 100-mile run invitational in Shea Stadium, Boston Marathon, SRI Chimnoy traithlon, Mighty Hamptons Triathlon, and New York City Marathon upon his return from Ironman. He’s an Off-Broadway producer. Wonder who’s running the show now?

I figure the lava beds, asphalt and sun make the mid-day heat around 110. It can’t be one degree cooler. I am frying, even though I’m usually out shirtless in NJ running mid-day, the difference is incredible. It is almost indescribable. The road in the distance is a wet mirage and never changing. Up and down and each mile seems to pass slower and slower. My knees are shot and all the exposed parts of my body are sun burned and hurting. I try to pull my bike shorts down as far as they can go to hide from the sun. I have a flat, one mile from the finish in Kailua. I am beginning to enjoy these, and I time myself at three minutes, 54 seconds. Not bad. I won’t lose too much time in the race if I get a flat.

My first day of training is now finished; 112-mile bike ride in less than 7 hours with stops. That is 42 miles in the saddle longer than I have ever been before. Just when I think I’m finished, Mike calls. He just got back from his ride and wants a companion for a 10-mile run. Even though I have showered and downed three beers, I put my running gear on. We run a 7:30 pace for 10 miles. At times we burst to a 6-minute pace, and finish the last mile in 5:54. Will I ever get dinner tonight?

Later that evening, after I clean up, we head to a nice restaurant right on the water and have a good meal. On the way over, we invite Carol Davis, a 47-year-old former kayak marathon champion (1979) and endurance athlete that has done just about every conceivable athletic endeavor. She is a widow and manages her inherited portfolio when she isn’t working out. She is optimistic about doing well here.

I don’t sleep well. I am sun burned, sore, my knees especially. I’ll have to adjust my bike shoe cleats. My pulse rate is over 70, a sure sign of not completely recovering from the previous day. I rode my bike over to the bike shop, about 4 miles away after a breakfast of pancakes and hash browns. While the bike is being fixed, I buy a set of barracuda goggles, as the cut under my eye is still pretty bad, but I am definitely getting in the water tomorrow to swim the course. After my bike is repaired I ride about 33 miles easy. It seems to be enough. I’ll check my pulse in the morning and if it’s in the low 50s I’ll do a swim, bike 70, and run 10.

Charlie Hall, from Voyager, sent me some hand-made embroidered emblems to sew on my racing suit. I think I will and send him a photo.

The Elements

The bike course is incredible; mile-long hills, heat, trade winds that are unpredictable. Today my pulse rate dropped from 70 to 54, so I decide to put in some quality hours. To start the day off, I swim 2.4 miles in the ocean. The water is very beautiful. I can see the rocks on the bottom and the fish. I can also see my strokes and try to concentrate on proper hand pitch, always feeling for fresh water, high elbows and an occasional look up to see if I am going in the right direction. I start out behind 6 swimmers (1 girl and 5 men, all from California). They only go half the distance then turn around. I need to work, so I keep going. Towards the end, my left arm is still hurting from the Tetanus shot I had last Saturday. Out of the water, I go to my room, shower off the salt, don my bike gear, and head out on the bike course. My plan is to ride 70 miles from Kailua to Kalaheo Bay and back.

Out past the old airport, about 9 miles, I hit head winds and seem to have a hard time moving forward even in my lowest gear in the aerodynamic position. After about an hour of this, I stand up and scream as loud as I can to release my tension. No one can hear me of course, because I don’t see anyone on a bike (wind too strong maybe?). There are no houses, towns, gas stations – nothing on this stretch. All you can see are black lava beds, no vegetation, no ocean, and you feel the heat and sense the death that the volcanoes created. At times I wonder If I would ever reach my anticipated turnaround point. It takes me almost 2.5 hours to reach Kalaheo Bay. I stop at the local watering hole (the only one) and down two Pepsis, eat a tuna fish sandwich and fill up my water bottles. I start back shortly after having a quick conversation with the locals who think the wind is only slightly above average. They advise me that at times it can reach 50 mph. Can you imagine riding into a 50 mph wind on a mile-long hill? At this point, I can’t!

It takes me 7 minutes less to return to Kailua Pier and just about another 7 minutes to down three Primo beers.

Friday morning at 6:30, I go out for a 15-mile run – even then it is hot. I am making a point these last 4 days to feel the course and try to remember the hills – both up and down parts. My legs are sore and it’s painful going down hill. I take the rest of the day off.

This evening, I take a boogie cruise, rock band and plenty of beer. There are about 10 or so triathletes. I need this break as my confidence is slipping away. This happens when you over train. In 4 days I have put in the amount of hours I usually do in 7 days. I am excited but still question my workouts. Am I swimming enough? Do I know enough of the bike to make any repairs on the road? Am I running hard enough, long enough, fast enough? Never getting the right answers.

After the cruise, Mike, Chris (the 24-year-old daughter of one of the 40 women competitors) and I go for pizza. Then Mike and I are fitted for new bike racing skin suits, These skin suits are made of lycra stretch material and have virtually no resistance. Mike chooses a red top half and Hawaiian bottoms. It’s wild. I choose the W. German colors of black bottoms and yellow top with red stripes on the arms and red pockets in the back to hold food. These are supposed to be ready in a week. Then we go to a local spot for a drink. Someone rubs Mike the wrong way and we almost get in a fight with the locals. It’s easy for me to swing; to throw the first punch. I think Mike and Chris could sense this, so we leave. When I wake up the next morning, I am disappointed with my actions. I will try to be cool the rest of this trip.

I miss my girls. I think about them all the time. even though I send them letters and postcards and call, I wonder if they really know how much I love them.

The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Swimmer

Swimming today (by myself) in the ocean is hard… no one is around, in the middle of nowhere. Big swells today, you can’t see in front of of you, only the coastline which is on the wrong side of my breathing going out to sea. The swim back takes longer as the current is going out. The water is very beautiful, clear and warm and full of creatures. I try not to look down but look forward and watch my hand stroke. I seem to be off course again as I come in. I’ll have to work on that.

Mike and I go up for a 15-mile run. The sun is so hot and I have heat blisters all up and down my back. I just fried out there today.

I Love Margaritas!

09.26.82

I have my best day (quality) attributed to going to bed at 6pm and waking up at 6am. I swim the course with John from New Hampshire and Eli from NJ. I lead to the turnaround and back. Then I go to breakfast; corn flakes, eggs & ham, a double dose of toast, coffee, and a 16 oz. orange juice. On with my bike gear – I go 70 miles, a good hard ride, reward myself with a vanilla ice cream cone and beer. I put on running gear and run 11 miles with Mike Kasser and Mitch from Reno. A quick shower and out for burritos and cold beer. It’s hard having Mexican food without a margarita. Boy, I love margaritas!

Taper & Rebuild

09.28.82

I take longer to recover than most people, like my friend Mike. He can workout 8 to 10 hours per day and each day feel stronger. After a long workout I need rest to rebuild the damaged muscles. On Monday, 09.27, I swim the course first thing, then rest the balance of the day. Now I must concentrate on getting strong for the race, and mentally regain the confidence I had before hard training took control and made me weaker and slower because I didn’t give my body enough recovery before pushing it again.

The stories you hear when you hang out are all so similar. If one of the contestants isn’t either separated or divorced they were told that this is the last Ironman or divorce. Training for this event takes up so much time, not just physical training, but also mental training. If you have a job, there is little left in the day for anything remotely resembling social activity. Training takes precedence over everything – I think mainly for the first timers, like myself, because you’re just plain scared of the unknown and feel continuous hard training will pull you through. For the second timers, they all seem to know now what it takes mentally and physically and training, training, training, and more training.

I meet an American Indian from Nebraska by the name of Clare St. Arnaud. Last year he had 7 flats. He is very funny. Clare looks at me one night when the three of us are having a beer, and I ask him if he would like one. He replies “No thanks, this is the most pale faces I have seen in one time together. The drink may put me on the war path.” Clare is hoping to improve his time this year, but feels anyone who finishes is part of an elite group that is the best in the world.

The 30.5 hours (bike 300, swim 8 miles, run 50) of training I do my first week here taper to 15.5 the next week and these last 4 days before the race will be light training, carbo loading and mental focus. “You can do it.” My bike has its final check over and tomorrow I check in my gear. It’s been a long time waiting.

At Last. The Race.

I start stretching about 5:30am, check my bike, have my #562 drawn on my arms, go to the bathroom one final time at 6:45, and I’m in the water at 6:50. Watching the final 10-minute countdown, a lot of nervous energy is going on right now. There is an ABC helicopter filming above us. I position myself about 4th deep from the front. Maybe a little ambitious, but I want a good start. The cannon is off and I am determined to have a good swim. I swallow water when someone interrupts my swim with kicking, bumping, etc., but after a few minutes I can really concentrate. I reach the half way point (1.2 miles) in 36 minutes flat. It is my best time so far. At this point I keep telling myself make your arms hurt, push yourself. I almost stop using my legs because I know my body can pump large quantities of blood to both my legs and arms so 75% goes to my arms. I exit the water in 1:19; 7 minutes faster than I thought could be my best time. It is a great uplift – all my training pays off.

I move quickly to shower off the salt and change into my bike gear. I am on the road and through the first mile in 1:30:00 with 111 miles left in the bike race. The bike course travels through the lava beds; they are simmering with heat and no shelter from the blistering sun. Every 5 miles there is an aid station where you can exchange water bottles and pick up food. You must eat and drink or lay prey to heat stroke. At every station I eat a banana or jelly sandwich and drink at least 12 oz. of liquid. At the 35-mile mark we hit head winds of at least 25 mph going up hill to Hawi, the turnaround. Wind is at my back at the turnaround and 20 miles later, more head winds. I finish the bike race in 6:45:46. This includes the changing time from swim to bike, about 6 minutes. I am tired; my legs are throbbing from fighting the winds. I am fatigued. “The woods are lovely, dark and deep but I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep.” Robert Frost.

I change into my running gear and head out to the run course at just under a 10-minute pace around 200th place. I am in a respectable place at this time and I promise myself to keep moving, no walking, no matter how much it hurts. At the half way mark, 13 miles, I take 2 aspirin to lower my temperature and relieve the pain in my legs. It helps a little but I am near exhaustion at this point. It is getting harder now and is getting dark. At the 23-mile mark I think my left leg is broken and I am clearly limping, but I keep moving for about 50 more yards. Then I start wobbling and feeling close to blacking out. I have been carrying some hard candy the entire race and now I think to take it out and hope it works. It did, and within 100 yards of walking, I start jogging and reach the lighted streets of Kailua. I shuffle into loud cheers and praise. It is a feeling I will never forget crossing that finish line. It had takes me 5:16:35 to do the marathon course with a total elapsed time of 13:22:20. 427th place out of 776 finishers (960 started). I’ll be back again next October to improve my time.

Consumed:

7 gallons of liquid
19 bananas
6 oranges
3 jelly sandwiches
2 granola bars
4 aspirin
hard candy