Ironman Zurich

As I stood on the bank of the Zurichsee at 6:58 Sunday 28.July probably lots should have been racing through my mind like “how did you get here?” or “will I survive this?”  Honestly it was a beautiful morning and though I was surrounded by stunt doubles for Brad Pitt and Angeline Jolie, men and women with amazingly sculpted bodies, and the tension of the start as everyone anticipated the beginning, I felt really calm.

Beautiful morning. Calm before the storm

When I was 5 in the year 1976 across the US and on an island in the Pacific a group of athletes were deciding who was more fit the swimmer, biker, or runner.  There were three challenging races held each year on Oahu, a 2.4 mile swim, a 112 mile bike, and a marathon.  These athletes decided to test themselves by doing all three in one day.  It was decreed that whoever could do them all would be an Ironman.

I think 11 of the 15 who started it completed and the Ironman triathlon was born.  It quickly grew into a famous race and spawned a group of professional athletes.  In my childhood I had never really heard of a triathlon (except for the Ironman.)  I had grown up on Bruce Jennings on my Wheaties box, who was the decathlon champion, 10 track and field events, and dubbed the world’s greatest athlete. 

The idea of combining sports is quite cool and had been around for a long time.  The biathlon is a combination cross country ski and shooting, the pentathlon is 5 events that a 19^th century soldier would need to be skilled at: shooting, swimming, fencing, equestrianism, and cross country running.  It seems that triathlons had been done as early as 1920 but never really made it big until the Ironman started.

Somewhere in the 80’s a triathlon craze hit the world.  While most of the other multisport contests had events that most ordinary people did not do, nearly everyone swims, bikes and runs.  Of course the Ironman distance is pretty unattainable without a lot of training and effort but race organizers started creating smaller more reasonable triathlons.  The sprint is 0.5km swim, 20km bike, and 5 km run.  The Olympic distance is 1.5km swim, 40km bike, and a 10 km run.  I find it strange that the Olympics use this quite short triathlon, I would not be surprised if TV coverage had something to do with it.  Then there is the half Ironman, half the distances, and the full Ironman.

Me in local race.  The woman in blue is Nicole Spirig.  The 2012 London Gold medalist in triathlon.  She lives in the same town as me.  She beat me in this race.

Two years ago I had been swept up in this craze.  I am not sure what started it other than it seemed cool.  I had moved to Switzerland and had met people who were doing bike and running races and started doing them too.  I seemed like a good value to get to do three sports at once so I tried it one and was hooked.  Of course if you are doing triathlons then the Ironman is the Holy Grail.  I had noticed that there was one in Zurich every year and since that is a mere 3 hour car drive was psyched to give it a try.  After Christmas I started thinking about it but was unsure.

Ronnie Schildknecht winning Zurich Ironman for the 7th time in a row.

Most athletes follow some kind of training plan.  You can get elaborate plans of the web for marathons and Ironmans.  I am not big into training but I do need to have some way of convincing myself that something is doable.  Over spring break I went to Chile to go backpack in Patagonia.  By luck the Santiago marathon was on the last day of my spring break.  I decided to do it.  My friend Eric, who lived in Santiago and was a colleage of my dad who is now living there, wanted to do a marathon.  It was his first one.  I decided that I would do it with him.  I had run two before at 3:33 and 3:43 but the long Swiss winter had been very snowy which meant lots of skiing but no running.  My training was 8 days of 20+ km a day backpacking.  I did the race with Eric at his pace and it took us 4:12.  Though running 26.2 miles is always painful I was able to do it fairly easily with no real training.  This convinced me that I could do the Ironman.

Finished Santiago Marathon with Eric and Neil

I signed up for the Zurich event and proceeded to not train.  School ended and I was on summer vacation, which means that I spent nearly every day running or biking.  This was how I was going to get in shape.  I focused mostly on the bike because that is what I like to do the most.  One day I put my flip flops, a shirt and shorts in my bike jersey pocket and rode across Switzerland in three days.  Each day I would do the length of the Ironman bike.  When I traveled with my mom and sister I would run in the afternoon while in Zermatt and the Bernese Oberland. 

Mom and Sister and Me in Zermatt

The summer flew by and before I knew it I was packing up my bike and gear into the Green Gremlin, my car, which I am convinced is the worst car in Switzerland.  The Swiss have a rigorous inspection every two years and if your car isn’t in great shape it is not allowed to be driven.  On the Swiss motorways nearly every car looks shiny and new and I think in the 4 years I have lived here I can count on one hand the number of cars broken down on the side of the road.  Somehow my car passes even though it has been run into twice (huge dents on side), has duck tape on the bumper, and is always dirty from being parked under trees. 

Green Gremlin buried in snow this winter.

Back to 28.July.  I am standing on the bank of the lake.  It is an open water swim and basically swims across the lake and then parallel to the far shore and back across and repeats for a second lap.  Confession time.  I had not at all trained for the swim.  In fact I had literally swam 4 times this year.  Twice in the pool in the winter and once in another Olympic triathlon I did in the summer.  Last year I had done a half ironman and completed the swim okay so I wasn’t too worried.  Since it was very hot, it was actually the hottest weekend in Zurich in 10 years, it was a non wetsuit swim.  Most triathletes prefer the wetsuits.  They have extra buoyancy and swim times are always faster with them than without. 

Wetsuits, great for swim but near impossible to get on and off

I started in the back because I am such a slow swimmer that I do want to be run over by the faster swimmers.  There were about 3000 athletes that day and even with starting in the back I was still in a pack.  It was a mass start so we literally all started at once.  It was a wrestling match for the first 10 minutes, banging into other simmers, kicking people in the face, being kicked in the face, swimming over top of others, absolute chaos.  At some point I managed to get myself far to the outside of the pack and then started slowly cruising.   

Swimming rush hour.  Pic from actual race.

Probably about halfway across the lake I had a panic attack.  The adrenaline of the beginning along with the underwater fighting had unnerved me.  The realization of swimming 2.4 miles without any training struck me as about the most foolish thing that anyone could do.  If you can’t finish the bike you hop on a train, the run you call a cab, the swim I believe you drown.  That thought had me debating whether I should turn around and swim for the shore.

Pushed that button.

I settled down though and rested and off I went free styling.  I was in a group of about 10 and being near others helped ease my worry.  The first lap went by and I felt okay and was had my confidence return.  About halfway through the second lap I was miserable.  My awkward swimming style ahd been reduced to only breathing on the left side and I am sure that I was doing some type of weird sideways stroke with my right arm barely getting out of the water.  My goggles were squeezing my head and I had a dull ache which turned into a intense ache around my eyes from the pressure.  Water had gotten into my swim cap and I could feel it go down my ear each time I turned my head.  It was pretty much torture.  Everyone now and then I would tread water and look up to get my bearing.  I would see the next buoy and the sad trail of about 20 other swimmers who were moving about my speed. 

Halfway point of swim you run across this island.

2.4 miles is a long way to swim.  As I approached the exit 2 hours and 23 minutes after I had started the feeling a pain and dizziness overpowered any joy I felt at completed it.  I heard the announcer saying as I exited the water something about the last swimmers and a lot of people were clapping and cheering, obviously out of sympathy and charity.  Ironman’s are pretty snazzy events and the swim exit was the main staging area so there were plenty of people to witness my struggle.  So add humiliation to pain and dizziness.  I grabbed my bike gear changed into it.  In the transition area there had been 3000 bikes and now there where about 10.  It did make it easy to find my bike.  I pushed it out to the road and jumped on and off I went. 

Thankfully swim is over.  Can't believe there is a person behind me.

According to the tracking I was the 1930^th athlete to get out of the water.  I am not sure if there were really 3000 athletes as they said since there were not a 1000 swimmers still out in the water?  I was psyched to be on the bike, It was my favorite activity of the three, and over the first few km I was slightly proud of my swim.  I had done the free style the entire time and aside from stopping to get my bearings and during my panic attack had never had to rest.  Being last has the great advantage of getting to pass lots of people.  The bike was going well.  The course was flat for awhile then had a pretty steep and hilly section.  I love riding up steep while others suffered I sort of enjoyed it. 

Me enjoying climb.  Friend, Ian Nelson, suffering.

The bike was two 90km loops.  About halfway through the first loop I discovered two big challenges of the race.  The first was peeing.  It was momentum breaking to come to a stop get off the bike and pee so I was holding it in.  I should have just succumbed to the first feeling of need.  I am not sure what I was thinking that I would go all day without peeing.  Finally at the 30 km when I thought my bladder would explode I stopped.  After that I quickly realized how thirsty and hungry I had become.  I had been exercising for nearly 3.5 hours and had gone through my one bottle of water on the bike.  Luckily the first feed station came soon and volunteer handed me a bottle of Power bar athletic drink and I grabbed a Power gummy (this whole race was sponsored by Powerbar.)  Eating proved unfun.  My stomach was not very happy with me.  I am sure the many liters of Zurichsee water along with the constant churning on the bike was the culprit.  I knew I had to eat and devoured the gummy and drank all of the drink in 1 minute.  While I was sated the next feed station wasn’t for another 30 km and there were 2 big climbs between me and it.

Eating on the run or in this case bike.

I got to the feed station dehydrated and famished.  I needed a new system so I grabbed a water from a volunteer.  Held it in my teeth and grabbed a Powerade.  The I got a pack of gummies and two Powerbar and stuffed them into my jersey pocket.  I rode slowly and drank all of the water and poured the other bottle into the one on my bike.  I ate a gummy, unwrapped the Powerbars and wrapped them raw around my handle bars, a trick I had heard about, for eating later.  Then you get to take all of the trash and throw it to the side of the road, as long as you do it within the feed zone.  Psyched that I had now a system and having passed about 100 riders confidence returned. 

The bike transition area.

I passed the staging area and had one 10km section left of the first bike.  It was mostly flat with one challenging short climb called Heartbreak Hill.  Here was the coolest part of the race.  The amount of fans at the race was amazing.  On this one section people lined up Dutchman corner style ( the iconic hairpin curve on the Alp d’Huez where the fans go crazy) and literally the fans were so close there was just enough room for you on your bike.  They lean out in front of you and just before they reach you pull back all the time cheering you on.  Again my climbing legs were with me so I put on as much of a show as I could by powering up the top of Heartbreak Hill.  It was pretty awesome.  What I didn’t know was that the race leader, Swiss triathlete Ronnie Schildknecht was about 5 minutes behind me finishing his second lap.  He zoomed by me a few minutes later and was off to the run as I started my second lap. 

Coolest part of race.

This is pretty much the sequence of emotions that I felt on each of the three events.  First eighth, wow this isn’t so bad I am going to do well.  One quarter, this is pretty challenging but I feel okay.  Three eighth, Oh my god I can’t believe I am not even at halfway yet, this is going to take forever.  Halfway, okay halfway done I just need to keep it up.  Five eighth, wow my, choose two:head, back, face, butt, toe, knee, quad, calf, shoulder, eyebrow, really hurts.  Three quarters, I wish this was finished, I can’t wait for the next event it is going to be so much better.  Seven eighth, the pain in my go back to five eighth selection is unbearable it is all I can think about.  Finished, whew! that wasn’t so bad really.

Sine Curve seems to graph emotions quite well.

The second lap of the bike was much more challenging.   I didn’t have that excited energy that the first lap had provided.  Plus it was getting really hot and I was struggling to stay hydrated.  The best part was that fans that lived on the side of the course often where armed with garden hoses which they gladly doused you down with or without request.  I think I managed to cope with the heat fairly well.  I saw plenty of riders though abandoned the race to the shade or walking up some of the bigger hills.  Everything was smooth except for my butt which was aching from sitting on the tiny saddle in tri shorts which have almost no padding on them and my left toe mega ached.

On the tri-bike.

The only real exciting moment came on the one steep downhill descent.  After the climbing section there was a very steep, 15% grade, hill that you zoomed down.  I was going around 70 km an hour when I hit a bee right in the center of my forehead between my helmet and my glasses.  The sheer impact was enough to hurt is was literally smashed into my forehead like it was a windshield.  It did manage to sting me and I felt like I had just been shot.  I pulled the bee out then got the stinger out all at 70km/hr.  It was painful but luckily after a few kilometers my triathlon pain overcame the bee sting and it was quickly forgotten.   

If only bees were this fun.

Heartbreak Hill was a ghost of its former glory as I pedaled up the second time.  I dropped down and 3 km later had finished the bike.  I was now 1577 having gained almost 400 places.  I parked the bike and grabbed my running gear and off I went to run a marathon.  The run was four 10 km (plus a little) loops.  Almost immediately I got to the first marker and it said 1km / 11.1km / 21.2 km /32.km.  Somehow this sign was really disheartening.  I had so long to go.  Luckily the run was much better supplied then the bike.  Every 3 km there was a feed station.  I hadn’t eaten too much on the bike and was psyched to get plenty of food.  I had been exercising for 9 hour now without a break.  Also at each feed zone you could get a sponge a use it to cool down.  Of course the first 10k went well but soon it became very challenging.

The run.

The way they kept track of your progress was that at the start of every lap you got a colored scrunchie that you wore on your arm.  The first lap was blue, then green, followed by yellow, and at last red.  I was so envious of people who went running by with more colors then me.  I also delighted when I saw that I was catching up with someone who had my color(s).  A lot people were ahead of me and the run really rubs it in your face.  As I scurried around with my lowly single blue arm bad it seemed that everyone already had multiple colors on their arms.  Also doing a loop four times really ingrained the course into my mind.  There was the section that I hated, the one on the far side of the lake where you ran on gravel.  There was the dark tunnel as you crossed under the main street.  The pedestrian bridge which seemed plenty high enough if I needed to end my suffering.  The only small hill in the park I looked forward to just so I could use slightly different muscles as I ran.

Two scrunchie down.

Through all the pain and suffering at this point I knew that I was going to finish.  My goal was never to stop running, it was amazing how many people had to walk, and to try and keep a reasonable pace, the definition of reasonable dramatically changed each lap.  Once again the fans were great.  So many lined up to see this event, obviously most were friends and family of athletes.  My name was on the bib so people as greeted you with your name which is pretty cool.  I would always at least try and weakly smile back in acknowledgement but that was not always so easy.  I did feel that I had some groupies.  Doing 4 laps you pass the same groups and while I am sure they cheered every runner it did feel sort of special when they cheered me each time.  It was like they were invested in me.  I am sure my pace quickened a hair at each of these encounters.

Fans

While there was food a plenty a new wrinkle had developed in my eating.  When I was in college on a bet I had eaten two large pizzas.  I remember halfway through the second pizza the taste of it revolted me and it was sickening to eat.  I had gotten this way with the Powerbar family.  The taste disgusted me.  On my second lapped I gagged on a powerbar and spit it out revolted by the taste of it.  I am sure that it is normal for your body to freak out.  I had seen at least 4 other runners bent over vomiting on the course.  I was really hungry though.  As a last measure I grabbed some banana pieces and ate those with a glass of water.  This did it.  For the rest of the race good old banana was my fuel.  It was delicious, palatable, and did the trick. 

Famous churches of Zurich in view.

I remember the thrill of getting the red scrunchie for the last lap.  I wanted to show it off to everyone I was so excited.  I tried to speed up for the last 10k and my spirit was high knowing the end was near.  The last lap was done more than 12 hours after the start.  It was getting dark and the number of racers was drastically reduced.  Every lap went by the finish line and on the penultimate one for me about 10 runners I was in a pack with peeled off to the finish as they were done.  I remember running by myself for about a kilometer feeling like the last man on earth.  It was clear there were still plenty of athletes left as I did the last lap.  The cutoff time for the event was 11pm, 16 hours after the event began.  I passed some walkers with only two scrunchies on their arms and felt pity for them.  Part of me was proud that they were going to attempt to finish no matter what but I thought to myself if I was reduced to walking then I probably would have given up.  I felt that I wanted to complete this in style.

So happy 4 scrunchies.  The end is near.

 It is amazing how well I felt those last few kilometers.  I could run fast again.  The pains I had didn’t seem that bad.  There were about 4 of us who finished at the same time.  There were still a lot of fans at the finish line and cheerleaders.  Usually I sprint hard at the finish but I slowed to an easy jog 100 meters away.  I don’t usually show too much emotion but I was jumping up and down waving my arms in the air screaming with joy.  It was a very emotional moment.  I crossed the finish line.  There I was given my medal.  Usually I hate medals for races because I don’t really want them and I have to carry this metal chunk around with me not wanting to throw it away but upset that now I would have to keep it somewhere and deal with it.  Again I was really sentimental this time and I gladly had it put around my neck.  I have a feeling that I am going to be hanging on to this one for awhile.  Then they wrap you in Mylar (essentially aluminum foil) to keep you warm.

Hooray

   I was aching and sore but didn’t feel awful.  I went to go get some food.  Not feeling awful soon changed.  I had two cups of Powerbar recovery drink and my stomach just cut loose.  I hurried to the toilet.  Sitting down I had a huge diarrhea attack and felt the energy leave my body.  After that I quickly realized that my legs were so stiff that I couldn’t get off the toilet.  So there I was on the commode, my tri pants around my ankles, wrapped in aluminum foil, stuck on the toilet.  I am sure it looked hilarious and with much effort I righted myself.  I went to the recovery tent and luckily they had some mats.  I laid down on one and had seizures of shivers and fell asleep for about 10 minutes.  I slowly woke up and managed to stand and go get my street clothes.  It was a Herculean task to go collect my bike and gear and go with the trains back to my hotel but I managed and that was it.

Hercules

 Will I do another one?  Yes.  My final time was 13 hours 26 minutes and 27 seconds.  My place was 1375.  I had done a half Ironman in 4 hours 59 minutes so I was hopeful to do this full in under 12, I even secretly hoped for under 11, but obviously that didn’t happen.  Maybe I will actually train and try to do it correctly.  I did have a good time and through all of the pain and suffering I never really regretted it.  I was happy to never stop moving and swam the freestyle through the whole swim, was always going on the bike, and never stopped jogging.  It was a cool experience and the crowds were great as was the venue.  I am recovering quickly.  I have to because tomorrow is 1.August Swiss national day and I running the Aigle to Bernuse mountain half marathon here in my town that happens every 1.August J  Too much fun!

 Dedication:  I have enjoyed dedicating these posts.  This one goes out to my mom and dad.  They both tracked me from the States and Chile as I did the event.  Knowing that they were watching gave me strength as I competed.  I love them both very much.

The Triangle of Death

I love to stare at maps. Every since I was little I was always enthralled by them. Moving
to a new country last year has led to a lot of map staring. As I have slowly done all of
the logical rides around Leysin I have turned my attention towards the rest of
Switzerland. Last year I was in France riding the famous Cols (French for passes) that
the Tour de France goes over. Switzerland also has a lot of these famous passes and I
started riding each one. Passes, of course, go over a mountain chain at a low point.
Often doing more than one pass in a day is difficult because you would have to travel a
long distance or go over another mountain range. The highest pass in Switzerland is the
Col de Grand St. Bernard, of the famed dog breed. I can reach it from where I live. It is a
long day and upon finishing I simply turn around and head back. Fun but it lacks that
elegance that makes for a classic ride.

At the top of the Col Grand St. Bernard

By the end of last summer I had done a lot of riding and had been competing in triathlons.
I was in peak form and full of that confidence that made any challenge seem attainable.
On the map there is a super obvious set of passes that form a triangle. Each one is over
2000 meters tall and has greater than 15 km of climbing. I dubbed it the Triangle of Death.
One fall afternoon right before the start of school I drove over right past Brig to begin the
ride. I could have driven right to the start of the climbing, but I wanted this ride to be
extraordinary. I wanted to do the approach as well to give the ride the full value. Think
climbing Mt. Blanc by starting at the base and not taking the cable car which gains you
2000 meters to the start of the route or actually solving a difficult math problem without looking at the back of the book to see what the answer should be.

The Triangle of Death

I started up the Rhone valley with
about 40 km of gentle climbing to get to the start of the first pass. The Triangle of Death
is where the Rhone valley, the Berense Oberland, and the Swiss Alps all collide. The
Rhone river which forms the valley which leads to Geneva is isolated from the valley
that connects to Zurich, which in turn is shielded from Interlaken and the capital Bern.
Amazingly there is a rode which leads over each of these natural barriers and the
passes are on these. After pedaling for several hours I reached the start of the first
climb the Furka pass. This connects the canton of Valais to Uri. It is a steep 6 km to the
town of Gletsch then the business starts. 10% or made grade for the next 10 km up a
road so steep that the switchbacks have to be extended on concrete viaducts which
extend the road over space. I had reached the top after the grueling climb. There is not
much up there, other than a tiny trailer selling snacks.

The Stunning Hairpins of the Furka Pass

The descent into Andermatt is 23
km of high speed, hairpin mania. In lieu of guard rails there are concrete pillars every 10
meters. While this might protect a car from going over the edge, on a bike it was
useless. This means that the entire descent requires intense concentration. There is no
time to daydream as I sped down the road at 40 - 60 km/hr. At the town of Andermatt I
stopped for some food. Then more descending on the main road to Wassen. It was the
end of the summer vacation and the road was jammed with cars. Going to Wassen is all
downhill but there are long tunnels. I have this phobia of riding in tunnels. They are dark
but more intinidating is that the sound is magnified many times. So while it may be a
moped that is behind you it sounds like it is a giant 18 wheeler bearing down. Luckily
the downhill curvy road allows the biker to move nearly as fast as traffic and I became
one with the vacation traffic. I stopped at Wassen and filled up my bottles and started
the Susten climb. I had never done any of these passes before and it is an interesting
experience going on unfamiliar territory.

Scary Tunnel

 There is no doubt that the unknown makes everything that much harder. I hadn't eaten enough and as I begun the 18 km climb I started feeling weak. After a few more km I was cold so I put on my windbreaker. Then I
started noticing that I felt both too hot and cold at the same time. Trouble. When is it
time to turn around there is a mental debate that rages in my mind. Go on or give up...
The final straw was after going around one bend seeing the road stretch out up the valley
with no sign of ending. I dubbed it the road to infinity and it broke me. The greatest feature
about Swiss bike riding is that there is nearly always a train escape on any ride. The
Swiss train system is amazing and expensive but great for getting out of trouble on
rides. I rode back down from the Susten pass and got to the town of Goeschenen. I was
absolutely exhausted and the small up hill back to this town was nearly unrideable. For
all of my vaunted fitness the ride proved to be too much. I waited and got on the train
which went through a tunnel under the Furka pass and I was back at my car.

At the top of the highest paved Col in Europe in France with Steve Darby.  Yes it is snowing.

 I always want to do an extraordinary ride on the summer solstice. Last year with Ian and
Steve I had done the 200 mile day. This year I had my mind set on the Triangle of
Death. It had earned my respect and I wanted the longest day of the year to give me the
advantage of her unlimited daylight. Steve was going to do the ride with me as well
which made me even more psyched. I am pretty good about solo riding but truly enjoy
sharing these adventures with others. He was in Zurich hanging out with our mutual
friend Shane so I hopped on the train with my bike and met him there. He and I had
ridden some more Tour de France routes in France but bad weather and the new office
job had left me in less than top form. But the long day, the plan to start from a town near
the beginning of the climbing, and the company of another had me optimistic for
success. The night before the big ride went out to eat at this cool organic restaurant in
Zurich. We planned to get up at 5:30 to start the adventure. 2:00 am and from the
bathroom I hear the sounds of death. It was Steve vomiting in the toilet. I went over to
check on him. It turned out either some bad duck or a sour cream cheesecake desert had stricken
Steve with food poisoning. He sounded like he was going to die. White faced, sweating, he informed me as he stood up from the toilet the obvious. He was not going to be able to
ride. Determined not to waste the summer solstice I kept to the plan. Part of me was
glad only because now I could add a significant chunk of riding to the start.

Steve, Ian and Me riding Summer 2011

 I planned to
start from Zurich which added 90 km of riding. I wanted the Triangle of Death to be epic
and the thought of starting the ride at the climbs made the challenge less appealing. It is
interesting that I wanted more than just the three passes in one day. In a world, that is
based on accomplishments, promotions, and achievements I wanted it to be difficult
and not accessible. Uncertainty, doubt, impossibility where as important as success.
Starting from Zurich added a lot of route finding. Luckily my trusty iPhone directed me
on a wandering route across the rolling ridges of mid land Switzerland towards the
mountains. I rode around some spectacular lakes and through lands that I had never
visited. Back in my climbing days I had always proclaimed that one of the best parts of
being a rock climber was that it took you to spectacular places and allowed you to
become part of them. More than just a tourist passing through you have a purpose with
the land and are engaged with it. I feel the same about biking. Whizzing down the road
in a car is such a sterile existence shielded from the smell and feel of the land around
you, moving to quickly to absorb your environment. The joy of biking to me is as much
the connection to place as it is the physical fitness.

Biking with friends.

The ride was incredible and as I
traveled in the early morning I was treated to the spectacular landscape that makes
Switzerland so great. So after 90 km with the last 20 km gently uphill I was back in the
town of Wassen. I had been obsessively checking the weather and the report said that
rain was likely that afternoon. The quickly moving gray clouds and cold breezes though
seemed to indicate a different forecast. Undaunted I headed up. At the 10 km mark
a light rain started to fall. I was determined though finally do the Triangle of Death so
onward up I went. The light rain turned to a downpour. Luckily there was a tiny restaurant
a km later and I stopped for shelter and lunch. In the tiny shack was me in my spandex
and all of the road construction workers. My German was severely taxed by the very
strong Swiss German spoken by the proprietors but I got my meal. The owner of the
restaurant insisted I sit on a bunch of woolen blankets because I was so cold and wet
looking. I ate a bowl of soup, had a cheese sandwich, talked with the workers who
expressed how crazy they thought I was, and waited for the weather to break. A hour
later it was still gray and nasty but no rain so off I went. I was cold but going up hill kept
me warm and it was okay. I reached the road to infinity and again the long road
winding up the valley was intimidating. My legs were feeling good so concentrating on
short term goals, just get to that bridge, those cows in the distance, where the stone
wall begins, I continued on. Near the top the infinity ends in the classic Swiss
switchbacks which marks where the road climbs over the steep slope to the pass.
Unfortunately the rain had started again. Though it was June, Switzerland in the high
mountains is cold. Thankfully I was going up. After a half dozen steep long switch backs
I reached a tunnel which marks the top of the Susten pass. My tunnel fear made me
sprint to the other side where the marker of the top of the pass stood. I had a woman
take my picture and got on my bike.

Cold and wet.

It is a long descent, 24 km, off the climb to the
town of Innertkirchen. It was the usual scary decent made more crazy by the driving rain
and a lot of tunnels. About 10 km down my body rebelled against the suffering. I started
uncontrolabely shivering, caught in the clutches of hypothermia. I couldn't stand it, and I
had to get off my bike. I saw a farmhouse as I descended and I stopped there. It was
empty and I put myself and my bike in the barn. I was so cold that I sat down and
stayed couched in a ball trying to stay warm. I couldn't even move because the heat
loss from changing positions caused my teeth to chatter and the horrible wracking
shivering to start. It is interesting the decision to abandon a ride. Sometimes it is so
painful obvious that the usual mental tug of war of yes or no is circumvatd by the
survival instinct of get me the hell out of here which is usually accompanied by thoughts
of never doing this again. As I sat there cold, wet, tired, I knew I had failed again.
Luckily my misery was too great for much lamenting on the failure but there was no
doubt that the gauntlet had been cast. The Triangle if Death was proving to be a
Herculean challenge.

Biking can be suffering as demonstrated in a very wet race near Bern.

The love of a challenge is one of the greatest motivators in my
life. It depends on so many factors. Some are controllable like fitness and others:
weather, flat tires,... are that element of uncertainty. Maybe that is why I prefer
backgammon over chess. It is amazing how scheduled my life is. It seems like I have
everything planned a year in advance. I was doing a triathlon on Saturday and it was in
the right direction of the Triangle. Plus the weather looked good and I had the next few
weekends booked with things so it seemed like the cards were sort of in place. So I
booked a room in a hotel in Brig and planned to give it another shot. My triathlon was in
Speiz and it went okay. It had been a pretty disappointing Tri season. I just didn't feel in
shape and wasn't racing that well, though my times seemed good it was a feeling that I
wasn't top notch. But in the grand scheme of things I am never going to amount to
much in Tris. I am a terrible swimmer, and though I am strong on a road bike and
generally a good climber, the time trial format of the ride in triathlons is not my forte. I
am probably just slightly above average. My run is strong. If I really wanted success in a
sport I would concentrate just on running. I am usually in the top 10% and have had
some high finishes but I really love the three sports of the Tri and the extra challenge of
switching from one to another so it is my sport of choice.

Riding on my tri bike in a triathlon

 The Speizathlon was great fun and I had another unremarkable performance. That afternoon I
drove over towards the bridge. Not only is train biking cool in Switzerland but the car
train is very novel as well. To get back to the Rhome valley I would either have to
drive 4 hours but in Kandersteig you can put your car on a train and it whisks you in a
tunnel to the Rhone valley in about 20 minutes. Of course it is super Swiss. The car train
is superbly organized and you wait in three lines with other cars and then the train
comes and you just drive up on stopping as far forward as possible. Mega cool. So I
drove to Brig found my hotel. I was worried because my legs were very tired. But my
philosophy was give it a try and what happens happens. I got up at the usual 5:30 for the
mega ride and set off. The only remarkable event in the morning was a man passed out
in front of my room. But I gingerly stepped overt him and headed to my bike and off I
went.

Swiss Auto Train

 Again starting from Brig gave this ride extra challenge. I was going to have to ride
the entire upper Rhone valley just to get to the start. I was tired but pedaling up the
beautiful valley admiring the views and quiet villages I traveled through made the
morning pass. Before I knew it I was at the beginning of the Furka pass. The steep
climb was challenging and my legs were heavy but I made it to the top. I stopped there and
had the mental dialogue about turning around, that it was too much, but knowing there
was the same train escape that I had used on my first attempt I figured I could go on.
So I zoomed down to Andermatt. Got a sandwich in Goshenenen and arrived in
Wassen and the start of the Susten. Knowing a ride always makes it easier for me. I had
jut done the Susten and was ready for its challenges.

One pass down!

 The km slowly clicked by and
faced with the road to infinity I began to focus on those short term goals. Being
able to locate the top of the pass was also a big asset. I cranked my way up and by the
time I made it to the switch backs I was determine to get to the top. Luckily it was a
tourist Sunday and the top had a restaurant to cater to the people in cars, motorcyclist,
and the few other bikers. I am ashamed to admit that I had a meat sandwich. The line
for hot food was huge and I didn't want to wait and the only prepaid sandwich was ham.
I grabbed it figuring my vegetarian ways would not suffer too much with this small
indiscretion. A bag a chips, a Snickers bar, and two powerades I was sufficiently
refueled. I think at this point I knew that I was going to do it. It was just a feeling but with
two passes down and plenty of day left all seemed good.

Two down!

I did the long descent to
Innerkirchen. I really dislike descents. The speeds that you travel at are ridiculous and
combine that with traffic, hairpin curves, the chance of blowouts, it is unnerving.  It is hard
to go slow since riding the brakes is strenuous and your hands become fatigued from
the death grip on them. I look forward to the end of the descents. When I am climbing
my mind is relaxed and though it is tiring on the legs the rhythmic zen of pedaling is
very peaceful. So finally as I entered Innerkirchen the final pass lay before me. The
mighty Grimsel pass. I had had a battle with it the previous year on another ride and
after two attempts had done it. At 26 km with a very steep final leg it was a challenge in
its own right but the combination of the the other two was going to make it nasty. After only
pedaling about 5 km I could tell that I was wiped. Usually I can sustain a minimal effort
forever but climbing require a type of power that is strength based. It is like doing a
military press when you shoulders, like a light switching off, just stop working and you
can absolutely not lift the weight. I was getting to that point. I stopped at a house
advertising food. Standing awkwardly at the door I asked if there was food here and a nice
German couple invited me in. I felt like I was in their kitchen but there were three small
tables set up for dining. I suspect that they had decided to take advantage of the tourist
trade and with a few homemade signs and these tables had their own business. Luckily
they made cheese sandwiches and I gobbled two down. I felt okay but my legs were
just so tired. I always get impatient and though I should have rested more I wanted to
get it over with. So after the sandwiches I and this short rest it was back on the bike. It was
strange the last leg. I was tired but the thought of success buoyed me and the Grimsel
pass is absolutely stunning. Two thirds of the way up is an amazing dam and high lake
and the natural wonder of it all sustained me. The last bit is über steep but I was
psyched by my soon to be accomplishment and gutted it out to the top.

The final pass finished.

 As I rested at
the top in a parking lot space for hikers, a dirty diaper near my feet, I was just to tired to
care, I thought about the day. In the movies and TV accomplished feats and victory are
these mammoth celebratory releases of emotion. People hug, announcers gush,
medals and trophies are wheeled out. But as I sat alone munching on a margarita
flavored clif blocks it all seemed like just a minute passing in another day. To be certain
there was some serious high-fiving in my mind and of course later I would brag to my
friends and write this blog promoting my achievement but really it is so hard to
describe. It is what makes life worth living. It is doing what you know you can but really
maybe you can't. It is the motivation that is fueled by imagination. It was just mine.

Bike race.

Post Script. I still had to ride 60 km back to Brig and though it is a 16 km descent
followed by 45 km of mostly a downhill lie it was not trivial. I got back to Brig exhausted,
my butt was so sore. I striped of my cycling clothes, got on my civvies and drove my
car back nearly 2 hours to my home in Leysin. It was the highlight of my summer. I feel
somewhat cliche with the thought that I am sad it has been done. Of course I can do it
again or ride it the other direction but there is something about having a nemesis. I am
sure I will find something else and I absolutely can't wait.

Final stats - Distance:225.98km, Riding Time:11:38:59, Total Time:13:28:47,
Elevation Gained: 5776 meters

Dedication - I want to dedicate this post to my good friend Tim Whittemore.  Tim was in a bad
bike accident this summer.  He is now slowly rehabbing from his terrible injuries.  I know he has
the spirit to overcome this challenge.  Go Tim!