It's odd to hear someone describe their experience in completing a 12-hour race with, "It feels like it was over in a flash".  The paradox is made clear when this sentiment is put in the context of the long process leading to that race.  Christine Gould and Adam Strobl, both graduate students at UCSD and members of the UCSD Triathlon Team, competed in the 2007 Ironman Wisconsin on September 9th.  Training and preparation for the race began in May, and the regime often left them exhausted and with scarcely enough time or energy to finish lab work, eat, and sleep before getting back to it the next day.  Double workout days were nearly the norm.  Triple duty was not unheard of.  The volume would regularly exceed 20 hours in a week.  Single workout days were considered "rest".  While simply finishing the long race is an admirable feat, Strobl and Gould went further to make the event look easy into the final miles.  Strobl finished in a time of 11 hours,  7 minutes and 12 seconds, just outside his goal of under 11 hours, placing 34th in his agegroup of 156.  Gould met her goal of a sub-12-hour Ironman, crossing the finish line in 11 hours, 54 minutes and 2 seconds, earning her a placement of 13th in her agegroup of 86 athletes.  After nearly 5 months of a relentless grind, a 12-hour race would seem like "a flash"  by comparison.

This is the world of Ironman (or "full distance") triathlon, the longest of the USA Triathlon (USAT) sanctioned races. It is comprised of a 2.4-mile swim, a 112-mile bike and a 26.2-mile run.  The Ironman Wisconsin course is known for being particularly challenging, with steep climbs on the bike course, and iffy weather.  It's also known for being one of the best hosted and attended races in the category. Several thousands of race fans, including friends and family of athletes and local pub crawlers, line the downtown Madison streets all along the course and scream wildly, hoisting their hand-made signs into the air as more than 2000 racers fly, run, jog, walk, hobble or do whatever they can do to finish the course.  "It was definitely nice having all the people there cheering" said Gould of the energetic atmosphere.  "[The cheering] helped take my mind off how much it hurt," remarked Strobl.

For a race that long, every little detail becomes monumentally important -- the training is necessary, but not sufficient.  Equipment and nutrition are examined microscopically.  Expert eyes are called upon regularly.    The occasional hesitation of the bike chain in shifting gears might manifest  itself in the chain breaking on the long and hilly course.  For helping to ensure that the bikes operated flawlessly -- at least to the point when they had to be disassembled for shipping to Madison, WI -- Kris Wells and the UCSD Bike Shop proved invaluable.  Nutrition is also elevated to the level of key race tactics, and the considerations go well beyond the worry of having enough water for the day.  Too little salt will mean cramps.  Too little carbohydrate will mean bonking -- running out of gas completely.  Too much of anything could mean an upset stomach.  Failing the nutrition game can lead to a downward spiral that is dangerous and miserable, and become a disappointing, early end to an athlete's race.  While the race hosts set up aid stations along the course, it is still largely up to the athletes themselves to make sure they will have what they need.  Gould and Strobl handled all these things masterfully, consulting with coaches and fellow athletes (including UCSD Triathlon Coach Sergio Borges, and UCSD Masters Coach Terry Martin), but mostly relying on their own experience from long training in order to cruise through race day and the culmination of months of preparation with few surprises.   Most  of what they consume during the race is the standard fare of sport drinks, salt tablets and carbohydrate gels, though there are some unconventional foods included, too.  "My favorite are Cheez-Its" said Gould of her secret nutritional weapon.

On race day it was easy to tell who the athletes were.  Besides the numbers marking their legs and arms, their hi-tech, skin-tight race suits and occasional "IRONMAN" tattoos, they were the ones who looked like they might crack at any moment.  With so much time and energy leading up to this one day, and the thought that any little thing might derail their dream entirely, it's no wonder that race-day nerves were so intense.  Multiply that by 2000, and it made for a very interesting environment.  Family, friends and supporters made conversation mostly with each other, apparently all of them having learned long ago not to say anything to their beloved athlete when he is so tense.   But eventually, mercifully, the gun DID go off, the race started, and thousands of anxious swimmers churned the water like a huge school of fish evading a great white shark.   The sight of  the swim displayed most clearly the whole spectrum of the athletes, since it is the one time in the whole race where every athlete is visible at the same time.  Even before the fastest swimmers had completed their first lap of the 1.2 mile loop, the field was strung out over  nearly half a mile. The faster swimmers formed a very sharp, spear-like point to the mass that never seemed to break up or even move, but just stretch itself out around the orange buoys marking the rectangular course.  Near the thick mass that formed the back of the pack, a few stragglers could be seen veering off about a hundred meters in the wrong direction.  "Oh, they're going to have a loooong day" remarked more than one spectator at this sight.   Gould and Strobl both made quick work of the swim.  Gould was the 4th fastest woman to swim the course that day -- professional athletes included.  Strobl bested his goal time by more than 2 minutes.

So the long day got on for everyone.  Athletes did what they had trained for, and spectators boarded buses that carted them off to nearby Verona, where they lined a chute to cheer and wave and snap blurry photographs of their athletes as they zoomed by on their bikes.  Then the spectators boarded the buses back to Madison and found their own little stretch of sidewalk along the run course.  They measured times.  They calculated splits.  They body-painted.  They hoisted signs.  They cheered.  They worried.  They looked in helpless awe, still not comprehending the impossible task they were witnessing, some clearly not at ease with the fact that they weren't allowed to help.   Eventually they made sense of it all when they heard the announcer (whose vocal cords must be made of titanium) shout over the P.A., on top of fast and driving music, "Congratulations, ADAM STROBL! You're an IRONMAN! ... Congratulations CHRISTINE GOULD! You're and IRONMAN!"   And then it all was done -- the long months, the long day -- seemingly in a flash.

So what do Strobl and Gould do now?   Rest.  School work.  Heal.  And then some races --- shorter ones, like 1/2 Ironman.   "I want to do another [Ironman], eventually" said Strobl.