Ironman Nice, France 2008 Race Report
I hope all of you are enjoying all your success in accomplishing your goals for 2011. As I look back to the past 3 to 5 years I can’t help but think about a very different journey I had in my completion 2 full Ironman’s.
Thought you all might want an explanation of why I have done two Ironman’s and making a big deal about it. Yes, I do have ‘screw loose’ in my head. However, there explains a deeper meaning. Not to get a tattoo saying I did the Ironman but instead for inner strength and the love of fitness and challenge! I wrote this blog to tell you my story and inspire!
The Ironman is a competition that is held every year at multiple locations around the world and consists of a 2.4 mile swim followed by a 112 mile bike ride and ends with a full 26.2 mile marathon!
Since I can remember I have been training alongside my father (Bronze medalist 68′ Olympics in Rowing and a 76′ Olympic Coach for the U.S. Rowing Team) as he put in long hours of running, rowing, cycling, and playing ice hockey. He was always involved as my coach in every sport I played throughout my life. He ran for 20 plus years and finished 7 marathons clocking in his best time at a 3 hr 25min marathon despite his massive 6 foot 6inch 230 lb frame. When I started to Row at age 16 for the Long Beach Juniors I was doing multiple sports. I quit baseball and soccer at the time to leave room for Ice Hockey and Rowing. In college I started to cross-train and at UC Berkeley with its amazing parks and hillsides, what better way to cycle and run to practice. I stuck to Rowing all throughout college and National Teams until I was 24 when I sort of ‘burned out’ of rowing. I was still training but I always felt a shadow cast over me from my father’s success in Rowing and people talking about my dad all the time and how I would be an Olympian as well someday. The thing is…is that when I grew up I loved all sports and wanted to be great at everything. If I did just one thing it drove me crazy so when I came home from the national team rowing camps I did just that… Everything! I still rowed (every other day or so) but Ran, started teaching spinning and rowing classes (which eventually led to teaching and running Roworx), and played Ice Hockey on 3 different teams (one of them with my sister, Carol.
After doing all this for about 6 months I wanted a challenge. First, I wanted to see if I could beat my father’s marathon time of 3 hrs 25min in a marathon. So I started running to prepare myself for the Huntington Beach Surf City Marathon (prev known as the Pacific Shoreline marathon). My Goal was a little over 3 hrs….. and I ran it in 3 hrs 10 min which qualified me for Boston (barely). I was 24 and 210 lbs. Was 2nd in my age group overall and 2nd among men over 200 lbs. And I beat my Dad’s time! He wasn’t amused nor did he really approve of my training away from rowing. I decided to make a comeback with rowing 2 years later in 2006-07 and had to get knee surgery right in the middle of my training that took me out for 2 months. The Olympic dream was over for any Olympic qualifier for 2008.
My friend Warner Bonner (National Team Rower/kayaker) had always wanted to do an Ironman and told me 2 years ago in summer 07′ at a party in San Diego (Opening Day Del Mar Horse races) that he was going to go to Nice, France and do the Ironman there in June 2008. (France is also considered the toughest courses out of all the Ironman’s across the world including Kona because of the huge mountains you have to climb during the bike ride). I said that along with making an Olympic Team…. ‘completing an Ironman was a lifelong dream!’ I was in…we both trained hard….and come June 2008 we finished and heard those amazing words with a thick french accent “Jack Nunn…You Are An Ironman!” It was the most amazing feeling I have ever felt in the last mile of that race. So many emotions poured out of me..It was the most incredible experience of my life. After the race I said “I don’t think I’ll ever do that again.” After I got home there was a couple of things my father told me which I felt good about. He first asked me if I was on steroids, which I thought was hilarious because he really didn’t think I could swim or handle the bike ride and that I needed them to get through the race.(I was laughing..) Later, he wrote me a note saying how proud he was of me and admitted that he too wanted to do an Ironman but he couldn’t fathom the distance and didn’t have enough time for him to train and accomplish that race. Coming from an Olympic Medalist that was kinda cool:)
Ok, so it isn’t really Mark’s fault. After all, I typed in my credit card number. When the online entry system asked “are you sure?” I checked the box and said “yes”. I might as well suggest that it is the organizers fault for not having a “are you a complete plonker who hasn’t really thought about this?” question[1].
The end result was on 17th June I boarded a plane for the south of France where it had rained almost non-stop for a month. I would like to say I did this with my normal degree of vigour and zest. I would like to say that I had been enthused by the prospect of the forthcoming event. I would like to say I was inspired by a tightly managed and successful training program. However, if I did I would be lying through my teeth[2]. I hate to say it, but I was right. I should have had an Ironman free year. I had no enthusiasm. The only exercise I did over winter was some swimming and refereeing rugby and the occasional short run. My enthusiasm was somewhere between zero and didilly-squat. Just as I was getting into the swing of training I came down with winter vomiting virus[3], and then got it back 3 weeks later once it had done the rounds of everyone else at work. Therefore, when I got on the plane to leave for Nice I had managed 6 weeks of consistent training. Many of our triathlon coaches suggest training with a coach for 6 months prior to an Ironman[4].
The journey from Leeds to Nice was so uneventful it was not worth talking about[5]. However, on arrival I discovered that the bus drivers were on strike. This necessitated a taxi from the airport to the hotel. For the journey of 5km this came to the modest sum of 40 Euros i.e. roughly £33[6] and this is when the painful realization hit home. France might be cheap but Nice – bracketed by Cannes and Monaco – home of the “beautiful people”[7] was certainly not. That night I had a starter and a
The week prior to the race progressed as such things do. Registration came and went with the customary “athletes gifts”[3] which turned out to be a rather cheap and nasty rucksack[4]. I met with Matt Woodruff and his wife Sarah along with their parents. Matt’s parents paid for dinner that night (thereby demonstrating that they had recently sold something small like Buckingham Palace) and I said I would buy the post race ice scream[5],[6]. I met up with NYP Triathelets for pre-race dinner on the Saturday and we all retired early for a good night’s sleep.
You may recall I stated earlier that the 125 euro per night room was a good investment: this is when it paid off. On the 21st June every year in France is the Fete de la Musique. This as the name suggest is an annual music festival. Outside the hotel with most of the NYP Triathletes there was Clash Tribute band playing; outside Matt Woodruff’s hotel there was a band playing; outside other hotels other bands were playing. Outide my hotel – only blissful silence. I was in a sound-proofed room on the far side of the hotel with functioning air conditioning. I was asleep by 11pm and awoke at 3:30 for the feeling alert and refreshed[7].
I was in transition checking my bike by 5:15 and ready to start by 6:30 down by the water. So far everything had gone swimmingly[8]. There was a special mention for NYP Tri by the announcer and Reesey made a rather abortive attempt at an “oggi, oggi oggi” which was treated with general contempt by the people around him. At 6:30 am the gun went and the game was afoot.
For Valley Striders who don’t know the Ironman structure here is a brief resume. You start by swimming 2.4 miles (3.8km). You then proceed to T(ransition)1 get your cycling kit on[9] grab your bike[10] and then cycle 112 miles (180km). Having completed this little spin-ette you dismount, throw on your running kit in T2[11] and run the customary 26.2 miles (42.2km) to finish. All of which has to be completed in less than 17 hours. The French of course[1] came up with something interesting. On the basis that everything in Nice is inflated – they decided to buck the trend and deflate the time allowed to complete the race: there was only a 16 hour cutoff for this event[2].
I would like to say I surged into the water, but I didn’t. The beach at Nice is very pebbly[3] and it was just damned sore on the feet, so having got into the water up to about 12” (30cm in SI units[4]) I realised at this point I could swim and started to surge through the hundreds of shoes that people had worn into the water[5]. The swim involved a fair degree of navigation – something which I am pretty dire at. There was a big loop of 2.4km back to shore – out the water for a painful trot of about 20m, and then another loop of 1.4km and then out. I self-ceded by putting yourself in one of the slowest swim sections only to realise within about 20m that I was surrounded by people who may not make the swim cutoff of 2 hours and 15 minutes. Dire swimmer that I may be, I have never come close to this. I also found my goggles leaked and my wetsuit chaffed at the neck (as usual). However I pushed on and did the swim in a painfully slow 1 hour and 28ish minutes (I have not seen the official split at the time of writing) and surged into T1 pondering another Ironman personal record[6].
In T1 a piece of positive inspiration paid off. I had thrown a bottle of fresh water into the change bag to wash salt off things like heart rate monitor and strap and one or two places where you don’t want salt for 12 hours + and this also allowed me to wash salt out of my mouth. The experience of 90 minutes swimming in the Mediterranean Sea can only be described extremely salty. However, swim bit done – it was time for the joy[7] that was the bike leg.
Rather unusually, the bike part of this race was a single loop. Cyclists emerged from T1 and turned west towards St Laurent sur Var on crossing the river to the west of the airport they continued along the river valley until about 20km and then a sharp turn left resulted in a climb for about 500m at an angle of about 10%. This was a little foretaste of what was to come. The joy of the early morning start had resulted in a headwind heading seaward due to differential cooling of land and sea overnight. The bike course then followed a long steady climb up to the town of Vance at about 35 km with some flat riding and then a good downhill to Ponte de Loup. Up until this point things were going relatively[1] well, however at this point the hard work began. From Ponte de Loup up to the town of L’Ecre there was a long climb. To put this in context, the main road from Otley to Leeds climbs for c. 1.5km at an angle of about 2% but never steeper than 4%. The climb from Ponte de Loup averaged 4.7%, rose to 8% and lasted for 20km. This was a long climb. Fortunately some recent spending on my bike had left me with the gears to accommodate this. I would like to say I surged up this climb, but the only way I would have achieved a ‘surge’ would have been to stop pedalling and surge downhill. In effect I spun my way up the hill in low gear with my legs spinning as fast as they could. The real low point[2] came at about 15km when you could look up the hill and see just how far there was left to go. A long snake of cyclists could be seen disappearing into the distance with only sounds of gasping breath and the occasional cries of ‘allez, allez, allez’ breaking the peace of the French countryside. On reaching L’Ecre there was some undulating terrain and a long fast descent until about the 100km mark. It was at this point things started to go somewhat flat for me.
I became aware of a rubbing on my front wheel. I stopped and looked carefully and found that my front wheel had buckled. It was not in any way clear how as I did not recall hitting anything. However, it was clearly rubbing against the break blocks near the valve for the inner tubing. Even putting the brakes to an open position to allow the wheel to be removed, still allowed the wheel to rub. This however seemed to be very localized. The wheel still appeared broadly straight so I thought ‘best get on with it’ I only had one more climb of any note left to do (a 5km long uphill section to St Pons at about 118km) so get on with it I did. I managed another 2km before the valve blew causing the tire to go flat almost instantaneously. However, I got kit out to replace the tube wishing I had a way to knock the dent out of the rim of the wheel. As ever geology came to my rescue. Having had a look at the rocks on the last kilometre or so of climbing I had noted that these were mainly limestones (and therefore pretty strong-I could get REALLY technical on this of course….) so I found two conveniently sized chucks, rolled up the lens cleaner for my sunglasses against the rim and proceeded with brute force and ignorance to hammer the wheel with two rocks. It appeared to be successful. I replaced the tube, fitted a CO2 canister, prepared to pull the trigger and then paused for one more glance at the scrapes on the rim. I then squeezed the air release trigger and the tire almost instantly inflated. No bang, no hiss, only a functioning wheel: success! This had cost me about 30-40 minutes[3] but I felt I could now get on with the race although I was now beginning to fear for the bike cutoff. During this time, Mark Reese had seen me repairing the wheel and actually cycled back down the course to see whether I needed spare parts. Given the traumas he was having on the bike that day, this was noble[4] in the extreme.
I finished the climb up to Coursegoules and then swept down the 40km of almost constant[5] descent back down to the first steep climb and then fats back to Nice – by this time being driven by the prospect of missing the bike cutoff and thereby picking up my first DNF. The last 20km was characterized by a certain amount of swapping of places between myself and other competitors before I finally shook them off near Nice Airport to hammer down along the Promenade de Anglais. It was also characterized by a stiff headwind blowing up the river valley – the wind direction had ion fact managed to switch around 180o since the morning. However, I dropped down onto my tri bars and pushed back into Nice to head for T2 avoiding the long snake of triathletes running the marathon. In fact, I was not really in danger of missing the bike cutoff time. It didn’t happen for another 75 minutes after I arrived, but I posted a thoroughly unimpressive time of 7 hours 40 mins on the bike. While it is possible to say “but take 40 mins for repairs off that and it is not bad” I can also say that I benefited from 40 mins of rest while I fixed the wheel. So, putting all of such debates aside – I picked up my running kit and headed for the run. The run was flat. There was no other way to describe it[1]: it was flat. The course was simple. Athletes[2] emerge from T2 and run[3] west along Promenade de Anglais. It was a little over 5km to the turnaround at the airport and you then ran back. This was done 4 times to complete the distance. At the west end close to Transition you collected a coloured elastic wrist band and ran over a chip timing matt to make sure you did all the laps[4].
After emerging from T2 I trotted – I couldn’t really call it a run as far as the first aid station. I had realised that something was seriously uncomfortable in my right foot[5] so I took a moment to sort this and get shouted at by some NYP supporters and some Pirate[6] supporters who politely told me that I should get off my backside and start moving[7]. With this mild prompting, I did so. I employed my simple tactic of trotting between aid stations and walking the length of aid station while taking on the fluid. Aid stations were well stocked – they had salted biscuits, powerbars, energy drink, coke[8], powerbar gels and of course water. Water came in 3 varieties: in cups, in sponges and by hose as it was still seriously warm. It was on lap one that I saw Matt Woodruff from David Lloyds who looked as if he had been sweating so much he would not make it to the finish line[9] moving at a speed that can only be described as a run. I also so a number of my NYP compatriots and was getting cheered by Pirates, NYP supporters and Matt’s family. It made for a thoroughly fantastic atmosphere. The first 10.5km took me a grand total of 75 mins which I thought was ok given my shoe fix requirement. I spent some of that time trotting with a Royal Navy triathlete, talking about diverse matters. Sadly he was on his last lap[10] so when he ran down the finishers chute and I turned left to the turnaround point I had to find someone new
to bore for 10.5km. The second lap was in many cases the toughest for me mentally. Made all the harder by seeing Matt Woodruff charging i.e. moving at speed towards the finish line. During this lap I visited my special needs bag. This is a bag where you put anything that is you feel you may need on the course (either bike or run) which is individual to you as an athlete. In my case I had put some Vaseline, sun block and a cliff bar. It was the first two I needed[1]. I stopped to put some Vaseline on my right foot as I could feel a growing blister due to getting wet feet when some other athletes were being hosed down. I also put on some more sun screen as it was still pretty warm [2]. With this interruption lap 2 took me 1 hour 22 mins and 52.6 seconds for 10.5km[3] which was only about 10 minutes faster than a brisk walk. During this lap I had also visited one of the race toilets[4]. The third lap was my best lap as I was beginning to see the end[5] of the whole process. I was slightly delayed by the arrival of Richard (brother of Matt) Woodruff who cheered me on and we chatted for about 50m. He was quite happily able to keep up with me at this point in spite of carrying what appeared to be about 30kg of rucksack. This is either a testament to Rich’s fitness or my lack of pace[6] at this point. I did the 3rd lap in 70 minutes and was actually feeling ok apart from my injured right calf was beginning to stiffen up and my toe flexors, which had been complaining since about the 60km mark on the bike course, were really beginning to give me grief. However, after a cheer from the Pirates a cheer from NYP I picked up the last arm band with a skip and a jump and a short dance with the marshal who handed it to me[7]. The last lap involved more stretching than any others to keep calf and toe flexors ticking over. I strolled for a bit with one of my NYP colleagues and then trotted on. As much as running caused my calf to ache, walking made the growing blister on my right foot worse. The blister was in fact the greater of the two evils. I ran on, turned down the finishers chute was told again “William Murphy from Leeds in Grand Bretagne, you are an Ironman” and I thought – number 8, in the bag[8]. The whole marathon had taken me a little over 5 hours – pretty appalling really. However I had, despite feeling pretty bad for bits of it stuck to my vow after Ironman Couer D’Alene of never walking another marathon again. Well, not all of it anyway.
This was a fantastic, well organized and challenging event. Despite the description I thoroughly enjoyed it. There was great support on the run and in some of the villages on the bike course and the views on the bike course stunning. The only criticism I would have is the lack of toilets on the bike course i.e. none. I cannot imagine
however that it will retain it’s current bike route. There were tight turns on sections of the bike course that could reasonable be described as being on the edge of a cliff. Tragically, two competitors missed such turns – one was rescued from a tree, the other was killed. After someone died in similar circumstances on the bike course in 2005 (this may be the wrong year as I am working from memory here) I suspect the route will be looked at very hard indeed. Sadly, another competitor died of a heart attack somewhere during the race this year. In terms of the number of people competing in the 17 or so Ironman events worldwide these numbers are small, but for most of us, this is supposed to be ‘fun’ not ‘fatal’.
Nice is a great location with plenty of good, well located accommodation. It is however a very expensive place to visit and the strength of the Euro didn’t help. This is probably the most expensive race I have done – including Ironman New Zealand. I am thinking somewhere cheaper next year – I might go to Ironman Western Australia.
I am back from Ironman France feeling enthused and ready to go again. I find myself pondering whether I can still get a place on Ironman UK in September….
Nutrition and Hydration play a HUGE role in Ironman distance training and racing. I asked many former Ironman athletes about getting the best advice possible in order to finish this race in the best time possible. Months before the Ironman I started Juice Plus+ and it made a massive impact on the way I thought about nutrition. I changed my diet and started eating more fruits, veggies, and berries.
The Nutritional Shakes I had once a day, every day, made me feel like I had more energy than ever to get through the grueling daily workouts.
The following video gives a great description of Ironman Nice, France in 2008. It was made by a news reporter and describes his journey throughout the 2nd Hardest Ironman Course in the World (The hardest being Kona, Hawaii). Luckily I did not make too many mistakes during this race like he did. However, it was a battle of survival to the finish as temperatures rose past 90 degrees during the last part of the Ironman in the marathon.
Tags: Crosstraining for ironman, Indoor Rowing Class, Ironman, Ironman Coach, Ironman France, Jack Nunn, Nice Ironman, Olympic Team, Rowing, Roworx
