What to expect: A first-timer's guide to the Ironman 70.3
It’s almost my turn, I thought. My eyes followed as three people walked to the end of the pier and dove into the water. The atmosphere was electric. Crowds of bystanders stood watching and cheering as a sea of eager triathletes funneled into three parallel lines. Clad in snug wetsuits, sporting goggles, and adorned with purple swimming caps proudly displaying the 'Ironman Elsinore' emblem, we were a sight to behold.
In just a matter of moments, it would be my turn to dive into the race. If all unfolded as planned, I would conquer a 1.2-mile swim, polish off a 56-mile bike ride, and wrap it all up with a 13.1-mile run. The pre-race jitters were gone. It was too late to second-guess my training, nutrition, gear, or strategy. My focus had narrowed to a singular goal: reaching that first buoy. My world had condensed to reaching the next landmark.
A glance to my left revealed the imposing presence of Kronborg Castle, famous as Hamlet’s home. What an extraordinary backdrop for a race, and I couldn't have been happier to be back. This marked my second time at Elsinore and my third time participating in an Ironman event.
I’m a fitness and nutrition coach with a background in strength training and obstacle course racing, including a Spartan Ultra in 2019. Last year, I entered the world of triathlon, with the 70.3 at Elsinore. Just two months later, I conquered the full Ironman in Copenhagen.
As I write this, I’m days away from my fourth Ironman event (the 140.6 at Cork in August). The journey from a complete novice to an intermediate triathlete is well underway, and while my missteps, uncertainties, apprehensions, and triumphs are still vivid in my mind, I've decided to write a comprehensive guide tailored to first-time Ironman 70.3 athletes.
In this article, I’ll walk you through each of the following topics:
Choosing the Right Race:
Location: If you’re like me, geography will probably determine your race location. Elsinore is conveniently just a 3.5-hour drive from my home. On a Saturday, I set out early, completed the check-in process, and arranged my gear. I spent one night at a hotel within walking distance of my race, and I made it home Sunday night.
Opting for a race at a distance will entail airfare, additional hotel stay, a bike travel bag, and possibly adjusting to a different time zone due to jetlag. Granted, many triathletes embrace these logistics as part of the adventure. Exploring a new city or country, both on and off the course, can be an exciting facet of the experience. However, for a first-timer, if possible, I'd suggest keeping it simple. You'll already have enough on your plate.
Timing: To perform your best and get the most out of the race I suggest allocating around 18 to 21 weeks for a comprehensive training plan. Moreover, such plans assume a strong foundation of aerobic fitness. Before you start such a plan, you should be capable of at least 4 hours of aerobic exercise per week.
If however you’re inclined to wing it, in my experience you can get by with a lot less. There are plenty of online plans offering condensed schedules that will get you across the finish line. But don’t be surprised if you suffer a bit on race day.
Course Difficulty: If you’re reading this, you’ve likely tackled some uphill running and cycling. It sucks, which underscores the significant difference between races. Elsinore, for instance, is a relatively easy race, with a bay swim, rolling bike routes (with a total elevation gain of 450 meters) and a flat run. Other locations can include ocean currents, significant elevation changes, and technically demanding bike courses.
If you want to learn more about tackling difficult courses, check out my article, Ironman Cork Review: battling the wind and waves in Ireland.
Climate: In a typical Ironman 95% of participants finish, but weather can change everything. The 2019 Ironman Cork event took place in the middle of a storm. It was pissing rain, cold and windy. Roughly 30% of the participants didn’t finish. If you pick a race in a tropical paradise, be ready for the heat, and if you pick a race in the distant north be ready for the cold. The climate is no joke.
The Morning of the Race:
Sleep: Don’t be surprised if you don’t sleep well the night before the race. You’re in good company. A blend of race-related anxiety and an unfamiliar hotel room can make sleep a bit elusive. It is what it is. To compensate, I try to get some good sleep in the days leading up to the race.
Breakfast: As the adage goes, don’t try anything new on race day. It’s wise to experiment with breakfasts before race day. Your long bike rides are great for this. On race day itself, consume a carb heavy breakfast (100-200 grams) with a modest amount of protein. I also enjoy a cup or two of coffee. I’m a coffee addict; plus it can expedite your trip to the restroom. The lines at the porta-potties can be absurd.
Upon arrival at the race, I like to double check my transition bags and bike. I put a bottle full of gatorade on my bike. From breakfast to the start of the swim can easily take a couple hours, so you’ll have lots of time to digest your meal.
Swimming 1.2 Miles:
For most first-timers, the swim is the biggest source of anxiety. 1.2 miles is a long swim. Full disclosure: I have a strong background with aquatics. I lived for 2.5 years on a Caribbean island, worked as a SCUBA Instructor and completed a rigorous water confidence certification. Even still, freestyle competitive swimming was never my thing, and I could barely manage a 200 meter freestyle swim when I started my Ironman training.
Thus, I tossed out any notion of rigorous swim “workouts”. For the entire program, I focused on becoming a smooth, relaxed swimmer. I constantly focused on slowing down and conserving energy. I did tons of drills. I devoured youtube swimming tutorials. By far, Effortless Swimming’s youtube channel was the most helpful.
For my first 70.3, I swam 2-3x per week. Once per week I tried to do a long swim (as long as I could without burning out). In the beginning, I had to break the long swim into several intervals. The other days I focused on drills and broke my swim up into even smaller intervals. Shorter intervals kept me focused on improving my form and noticing when I got sloppy. Aside from occasionally horsing around, I almost never swam “hard” or fast.
A few weeks before the race, I started going to a nearby lake. I donned the full wetsuit and practiced sighting with objects on the far shore. I quickly noticed that my 100m pace was substantially faster in a wetsuit. This isn’t a universal experience, but if you’re new to swimming freestyle, there’s a good chance you’ll be significantly faster in a wetsuit.
By the time I stood on the pier at the race, I could swim slowly and at a very easy pace for well over 2 km in a pool. I treated the swim portion of the race as a sort of warm up. I continued to stay focused on maintaining an easy but steady effort. I tried to stay off to the side, away from the other swimmers.
For the first quarter of the swim, I focus on finding an easy rhythm and letting my racing nerves calm down. You can draft while swimming, so for portions of both races, I found someone to trail. You need to sight frequently, and it’s worth taking some extra time to familiarize yourself with the course. At my first race, I went slightly off course and had a lifeguard redirect me. About 3/4s of the way through the swim, I turned up the pace a bit.
In 2022 I completed the swim in 40:12. In 2023 I did it in 38:34. Interestingly, I only swam 15 times in preparation for 2023. More evidence that swimming is first and foremost a skill.
Transition 1:
When you step out of the water, don't be surprised if you feel a bit wobbly on your feet. It takes me a few steps to get my balance back. In 2023, I used that moment to start the timer on my watch for Transition 1 (T1) and began unzipping my wetsuit. As soon as I could, I started jogging lightly. There were lots of people on the sides cheering for the triathletes. While jogging, I managed to pull my wetsuit down to my waist as I made my way to my transition bag..
At Elsinore, they arranged the bags in rows on hooks, each with a number that matches your race number. The day before the race, when you're setting up your bags, it's a good idea to take a walk through the transition area to get familiar with where everything is. Hopefully, on race day, you'll know exactly where your bag is.
Once I got to my bag, I quickly got out of my wetsuit. Underneath, I had on triathlon shorts that work well for swimming, biking, and running. My bag was organized so I could first grab a towel, and then my biking shoes and socks.
After putting on my shoes and socks, I pulled out my bike jersey. I had put some snacks in the back pocket for the first part of the bike ride (I'll talk more about that later). Lastly, I put on my headband, helmet, sunglasses, and bike gloves. I also had an extra set of contact lenses at the bottom of the bag, just in case. I saw a lot of other people putting on sunscreen, which was a smart move.
I put my wetsuit, swim cap, and goggles back into the T1 bag, hung it back up on the hook, and headed over to my bike. Your bike is set up on a rack, and it's labeled with your race number. It's a good idea to know where your bike is the day before, too. Once you get your bike, you have to head to the starting point of the bike course. At Elsinore, they won't let you start biking until you cross a very obvious line marking the official start of the bike leg.
As I got on my bike, I started the timer on my Garmin to track the bike part. Transition 1 took me 9 minutes and 33 seconds in 2023.
Biking 56 Miles:
Among the three triathlon disciplines, biking is the most pivotal. Regardless of the race, nearly half of your time will be spent pedaling. I made the plunge into cycling after signing up for my first Ironman. My initial rides were an eye-opener.. It wasn’t easy!! Not only was I slow, but my legs would burn out quickly. This was back in 2020, and just as I was getting into the swing of things, my race was postponed due to Covid-19.
When I hopped back on the bike in 2022, my biggest concern was finishing strong within the cut off time. I tried to bike 2x per week–one long ride and one shorter, hard ride. The winter in Denmark isn’t great, so I started my plan inside on a stationary bike.
For the shorter rides, I used sprint intervals, with an intense 60-second sprint followed by a 60-second recovery. The sprints should be hard enough that you’re forced to slow your pedaling cadence way down. I started with 8-10 intervals plus a 10 minute warm up and a 10 minute cool down. By 2023, I had worked up to 20 such intervals.
Once the weather improved (roughly 10 to 12 weeks before the race) I transitioned to outdoor rides. My shorter ride became a comfortably hard effort lasting around 90 minutes. The distance was somewhat arbitrary and just matched a route I liked.
For my long rides, I incrementally increased the distance.There are tons of great plans available online, so I won’t dwell on this. In both 2022 and 2023, my longest ride was around 60 miles with significantly more elevation gain than my actual race.
Bike Leg Nutrition:
I messed up the bike nutrition during my first 70.3. I drank water and mainly relied on gels. It didn't work out well. I suspect I just didn't get enough carbs or electrolytes.
For my second 70.3, I changed my approach. I started with a single bottle of Gatorade on the bike and kept some gels in my jersey. My goal was to get at least 60 grams of carbs per hour, plus the Gatorade. Initially, I wasn't feeling hungry, but the Gatorade turned out to be just what I needed after the swim. When I reached the first aid station, I tossed the empty bottle and grabbed one water, one Gatorade, and a few bars.
During the first 90 minutes, I consumed 100 grams of carbs from gels. Then, at each subsequent aid station, I had some bars. I didn't carry much in my back pocket. I think this strategy worked really well for me. I definitely managed to exceed my self-set goal of 60 grams of carbs per hour.
I felt strong on the bike right from the start and managed to maintain a pace of 32 kph (about 21 mph) through the initial flat sections. I did slow down quite a bit around the two-thirds mark during a section with rolling hills. Considering I pushed myself quite hard throughout the bike leg, it was likely just genuine fatigue catching up.
In 2022, I completed the bike leg in 3 hours, 12 minutes. In 2023, I improved significantly and finished it in 2 hours, 58 minutes, and 23 seconds, shaving off nearly 14 minutes.
Transition 2:
At the end of the bike leg, there’s a clearly marked dismount line. I dismounted the bike before crossing the line, clicked my Garmin to T2 mode, and walked the bike to its designated rack. Once again, it's beneficial to have familiarized yourself with the setup, enabling you to locate your spot swiftly.
Once the bike is secured, it's time to head to the next transition bag. I prefer to swap my cycling jersey for a running tank and grab a hat, then switch to my running shoes. The bike-related gear goes into the bag and is hung back up.
As you enter the running course, there's another timing mat. I press the Lap button on my Garmin once more. Transition 2 took me 6 minutes and 35 seconds in 2023.
Running 13.1 miles
There’s an enormous sense of relief as you cross into the run, at least that’s how it hits me every time. Your legs might be fatigued, maybe even a bit wobbly. At my full Ironman, my legs were destroyed coming off the bike. At first, there was no way I could run. Fortunately, you can always walk. Once you cross into the run, unless something goes catastrophically wrong, you’re going to finish.
But let's not sugarcoat it – that doesn't mean it's a walk in the park. It becomes a mental game, battling with yourself to keep running, to keep pushing forward. One trick that really helps is to break the run into chunks. Tell yourself to run to the next corner, or aid station. If you're taking a breather and walking for a bit, give yourself a limit. Maybe walk until the next corner, or for just one minute.
I’m still at the point where I walk through all the aid stations, and then add a sprinkling of other walks as needed. At the aid stations my preference is water, gatorade and fruit, but you need to experiment. You shouldn’t expect to eat as much running as biking. At both of my 70.3’s it was really warm, so staying hydrated was my main focus.
In preparation for the run, I try to run 2x per week–one long run and one short run. There are tons of free plans online, so I won’t linger on this. My approach mirrors what I do with cycling. For the shorter runs, I start with some sprint intervals, then transition to tempo runs and cruise intervals about 10 to 12 weeks before the race. As for the long run, I gradually build up to approximately the full race distance.
My longest run before the Elsinore race in 2022 was about 14 miles at a pretty slow speed. In 2023, I mixed things up a bit and aimed for slightly shorter runs but faster speeds. The longest I went was 10 miles, but I was going about 90 seconds per mile quicker.
Running Cramps:
During my second 70.3, I battled through a mass of cramps. Throughout the entire latter half of the run, my legs were either cramping up or teetering on the edge of it. It was everywhere too. My calves, quads and hamstrings were all taking turns causing trouble. I’d faced cramps before at my Spartan Ultra, but it was nothing compared to this. I was in rough shape.
Every time I tried to stretch, it just triggered the opposing muscle. I tried eating salty food at the aid stations, but it didn’t help. I was forced to just walk it off. I’d run until I cramped and then walk until it went away.
For my upcoming race in Ireland, I'm going to pack salt tabs and some pickle juice. They’re supposed to help, and honestly, at this point, I'm willing to give anything a shot. (Update: I completed Ironman Cork with no cramps. Salt tabs seemed to do the trick! You can read about it, HERE.)
In 2022, I completed the run in 2 hours, 11 minutes, and 9 seconds. I had my sights set on improving that time, but those cramps had other plans. In 2023, I finished the run in 2 hours, 15 minutes, and 11 seconds – about four minutes slower.
Who can complete a 70.3?
Most athletes at an Ironman 70.3 look the part–tall and lean. Carrying extra weight, whether it’s muscle or fat, is a disadvantage. And yet, you’ll see people of all shapes and sizes at an Ironman 70.3. There might even be a handful of noticeably heavier individuals out there. No doubt, their mental resilience is out of this world, but they also serve as living proof that just about anyone can conquer an Ironman 70.3.
If you’d like to lose some weight before signing up for the big race, check out my article, What are the healthiest ways to get and stay lean?
The biggest hurdle? Time. Training eats up big chunks of time. Most training plans start off around 4 to 6 hours per week and work their way up to 8 to 14 hours per week. I've managed with a bit less, but make no mistake, it's still a massive commitment. Do you really have that time to spare? And if you've got a family, brace yourself – it's going to have an impact on them too. Trust me, my wife is an absolute saint.
So, if you've stuck with me this far and you're still on the fence, my advice is simple: Just go for it! It's absolutely worth it. Let me leave you with three rock-solid reasons to dive in and take on your very first Ironman 70.3.
First off, you'll get insanely healthy. Cardiovascular fitness is like a golden ticket to a longer, healthier life. Seriously, research has shown that folks with top-notch cardio fitness are 4 to 5 times less likely to die compared to unfit, sedentary individuals.
Secondly, you'll become a real-life superhero in the eyes of your kids. My 7-year-old daughter is my biggest fan, she loves joining me for runs, and I'm pretty sure her teachers have had their fill of hearing about my Ironman adventures.
Lastly, there's nothing quite like crossing that finish line after such a long, grueling race. It’s incredible. And it’s a feeling that lasts. Of course, there’s a huge surge of feel-good chemicals when you cross the finish, but the event will remain an extremely positive and meaningful memory for years to come.
Trust me. It’s worth it. Do it!
If you’re a hybrid athlete like me, you may wonder if you’re going to lose all your strength and muscle competing in an Ironman. If that’s you, check out my article, Can you finish an Ironman without losing muscle?
