2009 Ironman Cozumel Race Report
Jay Lochhead

I signed up for Ironman Cozumel in the summer of 2008, pretty much right after a great 11:33 inaugural Ironman at Coeur d’Alene. I was psyched! Little did I know that CDA was a bit of beginner’s luck and I would have two 1230+ days between then and this race. Both of these included long walks in which I questioned my physical and mental abilities as well as whether Ironman was a reasonable sport for sane people (Thejury is still out on that).
Fortunately, my coach, Mike Ricci from D3 Multisport, was able to get my head back in the game as I got training for a fourth Ironman in two years. Mike thought I was capable of doing more than finishing my day with a long walk. He’s probably not the coach for you if your idea of “success” includes chatting it up with your friends from mile 15 to the finish about how great your swim felt or how fast your bike split was. If you want to do the entire Ironman look him up (or a fellow D3 coach).
Cozumel, an inaugural Ironman in a foreign country…yes, there were a few logistical issues. The run and bike courses and transitions changed at least twice leading up to the race. Gear bags weren’t ready at registration, “Come back tomorrow” they said. The town was still removing speed bumps and making road repairs until literally the day before the event. Crews were paving the road across from T1 as we racked bikes on Saturday.
Cozumel is known for being windy. And windy, it was! The practice swim on Friday was cancelled due to high winds. Locals assured us that the winds would calm down for race day…I was thinking “Yeah, right”. But a smile came over my face as I awoke Saturday morning to calm seas. A practice swim revealed that current would be a slowing factor for the start of the swim, but would help push us along the longer straight segment. Another shorter segment back to the finish would be closer to shore and be protected from the current.
Race day:
Beautiful weather! The ocean was calm, the sun was warm but not hot, and the winds were pleasant. WoooHooo! There were some Mexican festivities and a dolphin show before the start. Nice touch. Once we all got into the water the swim start was not at all chaotic, everyone was nice, plenty of room, no contact at all (just kidding). It was typical IM. Prior to the start I found a place to keep away from the melee under the dock, clinging to the chain link fence that housed the dolphins. “How smart I was”, I thought…then I looked left and there was fellow BTCer Sally Dyer. “Also very smart” I thought to myself. The swim was pretty easy and I was able to see check out the SCUBA divers, fish, and stingrays. I stayed close to shore and out of the current as much as possible, taking the first buoy wide. This made for a longer route, but nobody was climbing over me or vice versa. It was easy work and I climbed up the stairs in 1:04 (10 minutes ahead of any predicted time). Gotta love currents when they are in your favor!
T1 was smooth and quick. Rinse off, gear bag, bike, sunscreen, and on the road. Easy, easy, easy…hold back, hold back, hold back. I took it out slow and rode easy. What some called “brutal cross winds” seemed like a pretty routine day on Route 36 in Boulder. Did I mention that I love living in Colorado? Around 30 miles into the first loop I started to feel my rear tire going down. I rode another 10 miles with it low, debating what action to take. In hindsight it is obvious. I should have changed it earlier. It wasn’t helping my riding and I could have ruined the tire or rim. I finally stopped and felt the tire…hmmm, still a little pressure. I hit it with a shot of CO2 and tried to hand tighten the stem and hope for the best. Good idea…maybe? No dice! Five miles later the tire was flat again. This time I begrudgingly stopped to change it, knowing there was no option. Oddly, I was able to focus very clearly on the solution and change the tire instead of concentrating on the hundreds of riders flying by (Mike Ricci was in my head “Focus on what is happening right now, not what happened 10 minutes ago”)
Once I was back on my way I rode my race, not falling into the trap of trying to make up time. Sure enough, sticking to the plan worked (amazing, huh?) and I found that the steady effort allowed me catch and ride through all of the riders I recognized from prior to the flat tire. As others faded in the later miles I pedaled steadily by, gaining spots.
On top of feeling good as a result of passing people from mile 90 to the finish I got off the bike feeling totally fresh. Scary fresh.
An uneventful and quick T2 and I was out on the run. I probably made a mistake when I blazed (relatively) out of T2 at a 7:40 pace. This wasn’t in my race plan, 8:30’s were. I backed off quickly and settled into an easy, almost too easy, 8:22 pace for the first two laps. I remember at the end of lap one saying “Only two more loops!” to a guy. He didn’t seem to take that comment too well.
Things can change in endurance races. They did. As I headed out on the third loop things got more interesting. The easy early miles gave way to quad pain and momentary doubts. For the first time I recognized that I was on pace to break 11 hours. I would not get this close to that goal and be denied. But, at mile 24, the mental insanity that sometimes takes over ones brain in Ironman (Ever peed yourself on purpose when you weren’t racing triathlon?) made me consider walking. I walked for a few feet, with the crazy thought that I could walk the last two miles and still break eleven hours. Then, as if by some divine intervention, a guy next to me says with a strong Mexican accent “What we are doing now; Eeet is stupeeed”. I looked at him and said “Damn, you’re right” and started running again. (I question now whether that guy was really there or if it a hallucination)
My quad pain made me wince every time a foot hit the ground, but I would not walk. As I rounded the turn into the finish chute there was that “damned” euphoria. Again I felt it. There was no pain; there were no second thoughts, no regrets for flat tires or for earlier considerations of walking. I felt that feeling, the feeling that endurance athletes chase, and the feeling of what IT is. That feeling to know that you have done what few dare to attempt. The feeling that you have done what you know you can do - not what you might do, or what others say can not be done. That feeling of what it is like to be an IRONMAN! (BTW, not that it is important; I finished in 10:45, a 48 minute PR)

When asked “Would you race IM Cozumel again?” I would say “Yes”. It is a great destination, super people, and the course is flat and at sea level. Weather could be a factor, but it can be in any Ironman. By the way, it is still open for registration.