Your First Full Ironman 140.6: A Detailed Guide for Beginners
Have you signed up for a full Ironman, perhaps without any previous triathlon experience? I know exactly how you're feeling. As a fitness and nutrition coach with a background in strength training and obstacle course racing, I found myself in the same position. In 2022, I signed up for the Ironman 70.3 in Elsinore (a June race) and the full Ironman 140.6 in Copenhagen (August), despite having no prior triathlon experience. I had a ton of questions:
How do the transitions work?
How should a first-timer train?
How am I going to survive the swim?
Last year, I repeated Elsinore and tackled another full Ironman at Cork. With all the anxieties of a beginner still vivid in my mind, I've decided to create a comprehensive guide specifically for first-time Ironman 140.6 athletes, addressing all the questions and challenges I encountered after signing up.
Ready to embark on your Ironman journey? This guide will prepare you for each stage of the race, helping you tackle challenges head-on and finish with a smile.
Here are links to the main sections:
Choosing the Right Ironman Race
Timing: A full Ironman is serious business, with most plans assuming a strong foundation of aerobic fitness BEFORE you start your Ironman training. Ideally, you should be doing at least 4-6 hours of aerobic exercise per week. From there, allocate around 20 to 24 weeks for a comprehensive training plan.
If you’re inclined to wing it, you can get by with less, but be prepared to suffer more on race day. There are plenty of online plans offering condensed schedules that will get you across the finish line. However, remember that roughly 5% of those who show up fail to finish.
Course Difficulty: Courses vary enormously in difficulty! For example, Ironman Copenhagen (my first Ironman) is relatively easy, featuring a bay swim, rolling bike routes with a total elevation gain of 450 meters, and a flat run. In 2022, 6.3% of Copenhagen’s Ironman athletes did not finish (DNF) the race.
In contrast, Ironman Cork (my second Ironman) presents a very challenging swim with a strong current and significant chop, a hilly bike course with 1,700 meters of elevation gain, and a flat run. In 2023, 10% of Cork's athletes did not finish. For me, the difference between Copenhagen and Cork was night and day.
Climate: Unexpected weather and climate can quickly escalate into a failed race. For instance, the 2019 Ironman Cork took place in the middle of a storm with heavy rain, cold temperatures, and strong winds, leading to a 30% DNF rate. Choose a race location with a climate you can handle—tropical heat or northern cold can be brutal if you're not prepared. Have you thought about what kind of climate you can handle best?
Location: Geography often determines your first race location. For instance, Copenhagen is conveniently just a 4-hour drive from my home. I set out on Friday with friends, and we Airbnb'd an apartment within walking distance of the Ironman finish line. On Saturday, we completed the check-in process and arranged our gear. After the race, it was a short walk back to the apartment—super easy.
Opting for a race-cation involves airfare, additional hotel stays, a bike travel bag, and possibly adjusting to a different time zone due to jet lag. However, you get to explore a new city or country, turning the trip into an adventure. At Ironman Cork, my friends and I Airbnb'd a house that was a 20-minute drive from the race. Getting to the race on Sunday morning was a mess. If you can get a hotel close to your race, it’s almost certainly worth the extra expense. Have you considered the logistics of your race location?
The Morning of the Race
Sleep: Even after one full-distance Ironman and two Half Ironman races, I still didn’t sleep well before Ironman Cork. Race-related anxiety and an unfamiliar hotel room can make sleep elusive. It’s a common experience. To compensate, try to get good sleep in the days leading up to the race.
Breakfast: On race day, you want to consume a carb-heavy breakfast (100-200 grams) with a modest amount of protein. My go-to breakfast is typically Greek yogurt with granola and a banana. It’s wise to experiment with breakfasts before race day. As the adage goes, don’t try anything new on race day. Your long bike rides and runs are perfect opportunities to test your pre-race meal. I also enjoy a couple of cups of coffee. I’m a coffee addict, plus it helps expedite my trip to the restroom—the lines at the porta-potties can be absurd.
Arrival: Plan out your commute, parking, and morning logistics in advance. There will be road closures for the bike route, complicating your travel plans. Consult the athlete guide! Upon arrival at the race, double-check your transition bags and bike. I always put a bottle full of Gatorade on my bike. From breakfast to the start of the swim can easily take a couple of hours, so you’ll have plenty of time to digest your meal.
Mastering the 2.4-Mile Swim
Nervous about swimming 2.4 miles? You’re in good company. For most aspiring Ironmen, the swim is the greatest source of anxiety, if not outright terror! You can’t really “fitness” your way through it; it’s just too skill-based.
But here’s the good news: swimming is like any other skill—it can be cultivated. When I first considered tackling an Ironman, I could barely manage 200 meters of freestyle pool swimming. 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. In the end, I managed to swim 2.4 miles at my first Ironman in one hour and twenty minutes. Here’s how I did it.
First, I tossed out any notion of rigorous swim “workouts.” Instead, I focused my efforts on becoming a smooth, relaxed, skilled swimmer. I had to constantly remind myself to “slow down, conserve energy, and just relax.” Initially, I did tons of drills, especially Total Immersion drills (I bought the book). After developing some baseline efficiency, I devoured Effortless Swimming’s YouTube channel, which absolutely transformed my swimming.
I swam 2-3x per week with one “long” weekend swim. In the beginning, I had to break the long swim into interI swam 2-3 times per week with one “long” weekend swim. In the beginning, I had to break the long swim into intervals (initially just 100-200 meters). On the other days, I focused on drills and broke my swim into even smaller intervals (sometimes just 25 meters). Shorter intervals kept me focused on improving my form and noticing when I got sloppy. This meticulous attention to detail helped me build a strong swimming foundation.
My first Ironman got canceled by COVID, extending my six-month plan to two years. Although I didn’t swim that whole time, I got a ton of practice. I completed my first Half Ironman (which was my first triathlon) two months before my first Full Ironman.
A few weeks before the Half, I went to a nearby lake a couple of times. 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.
My longest swim before the full Ironman was 4,000 meters of continuous swimming at a 2:22/100m pace in the pool.
By the time I stood on the beach at the race, I was nervous but confident of a finish. I treated the swim as a warm-up, focusing on an easy, steady effort. You need to sight frequently, and it’s worth taking some extra time to familiarize yourself with the course.
You can draft while swimming, and it’s nice to have someone to follow. At both my Half and Full, I found that people were WAY too optimistic about their swim pace. It was quite a confidence boost, passing other athletes on the swim.
My second Ironman swim at Cork was a wildly different experience. It was more of a short (1.2 mile) survival swim. I wrote about it extensively [HERE]. I HIGHLY recommend avoiding a difficult open ocean swim unless you’re a very solid swimmer.
Remember, every expert was once a beginner. With dedication and practice, you can conquer the swim just like any other skill. Improvement comes with time, and every stroke gets you closer to your goal.
Transition 1: Smoothly Moving from Swim to Bike
Every time I come out of the water, I’m wobbly on my feet. As I regain my balance, I click my Garmin over to T1 and start stripping my wetsuit down to my waist. Once I’m all squared away, I transition from walking to jogging.
There’s always a crowd of spectators clapping and hooting as you move through transition, and even though the race has barely begun, there’s an unmistakable sense of victory: the swim is finished!
At all four of my races, the transition bags are arranged 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, I recommend you take a walk through the transition area to get familiar with where everything is. I like to walk the exact route I’ll take on race day, making mental notes of important turns and landmarks.
At Ironman Copenhagen, I wore tri-shorts under my wetsuit. It was EXTREMELY uncomfortable after 6.5 hours of cycling. (It hurt to pee after coming off the bike.) At Cork, I took advantage of the changing area and switched to proper cycling shorts. Although it cost an extra 3-5 minutes, it was ABSOLUTELY worth it to me.
I organize my T1 bag so I can first grab a towel, then my biking shoes and socks. After putting on my shoes and socks, I pull out my bike jersey. Lastly, I put on my headband, helmet, sunglasses, and bike gloves. I keep an extra set of contact lenses at the bottom of the bag, just in case. A lot of people put on sunscreen, which is a smart move. The wetsuit, swim cap, and goggles go back into the T1 bag, and the bag gets hung back up on your numbered hook.
Your bike is set up on a rack, labeled with your race number. Again, it's a good idea to know exactly where your bike is the day before. Once you get your bike, you have to walk to the starting point of the bike course. They won't let you start biking until you cross a very obvious line marking the official start of the bike leg.
Conquering the 112-Mile Bike Ride
Are you ready to bike 112 miles? I sure as hell wasn’t when I signed up. With no background in cycling, I quickly discovered that cycling 112 miles is a serious undertaking requiring a ton of training. Moreover, it’s the single most important discipline in an Ironman. On average, half of an Ironman race is spent in the saddle, so you can’t afford to half-ass it.
I started cycling in 2020 in preparation for my first Half Ironman. COVID postponed the dream for two years, and my bike collected dust in the basement. In 2022, I began preparing for Ironman Copenhagen (which takes place in late August) on my stationary bike. I rode twice a week, with one long ride and one short, intense ride.
For the short rides, I performed sprint intervals—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 (in April), 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. A good goal is to work up to two five-hour rides and one six-hour ride with elevation similar to your race. Of course, things don’t always work out as planned.
For Copenhagen, my longest ride was a five-hour ride with more elevation gain than the actual race. I completed Copenhagen’s bike route in 6:35.
For Cork, I worked my way up to a six-hour ride with less elevation gain than the actual race. I completed Cork’s bike route in 7:38.
Do you need a triathlon bike? Nope. I’ve done all my races on a road bike with clip-on aero bars.
Do you need to spend a ton of money on the bike? Nope. My bike is on the cheaper side. However, I expect I’ll end up with a nice triathlon bike eventually. Not only are they faster (upgrading could easily shave 30 minutes off my time), but they also save your legs for the run. So if you have the money and know you’re going to keep doing this, it’s probably a good investment.
Bike Leg Nutrition
The aid stations at an Ironman are awesome! It’s nice to see that the outrageous entry fee at least goes to something. You’ll have a large group of volunteers on your right holding up water bottles, Gatorade, gels, bananas, bars, etc. At the entrance and exit of each aid station, there’s a spot to toss your used bottles.
All that support is warranted. I’ve learned the hard way that Ironman nutrition is easier said than done. I’ve often thought of myself as having an iron stomach, but it isn’t iron enough for ultra-distance triathlon. Here’s what I’ve learned through my research plus trial and error.
At my first Half Ironman, I set a goal of 60 grams of carbs per hour. I relied mostly on water and gels during the bike leg. I faded badly toward the end of the bike leg. A bottle of Gatorade at the last aid station brought me back. Lesson learned: I need more electrolytes.
At Ironman Copenhagen, I set a goal of eating close to 90 grams of carbs per hour (you want more at a Full), relying on Gatorade and gels. The bike leg went great, but I ended up with significant stomach cramps and digestive problems during the run. I think all the gels and Gatorade with no “real” food gave me digestive problems. Lesson learned: I need more solid/real food.
So at my next Half, I set a goal of 60 grams of carbs per hour, plus Gatorade. I stowed a bunch of gels in my jersey for the ride to the first aid station. But then I grabbed a fresh Gatorade, a bottle of water, and some bars. The water and bars seemed to digest better than straight Gatorade and gels.
At Ironman Cork, I again set a goal of 90 grams of carbs per hour, plus Gatorade. I opted for even more “real” food. I ate bars, gels, and bananas and drank water and Gatorade. Despite Cork being significantly harder, I felt great with my nutrition. I’ll approach my next Ironman the same way.
Long story short, you’ll have to experiment. The common recommendation is 60-90 grams of carbs per hour during the race. It’s easier to eat on the bike than the run, so I tend to aim for the higher end of that range during the bike leg. It’s important to get plenty of electrolytes and drink lots of fluids.
Transition 2: Shifting from Bike to Run
As you approach the end of the bike route, you'll see a clearly marked dismount line. At Ironman Copenhagen, a volunteer took my bike, but at Cork, we had to return our bikes to their rack. Familiarizing yourself with the transition area beforehand is beneficial.
Once the bike is secured, it's time to head to the transition bag. In Copenhagen, I swapped my cycling jersey for a running tank, grabbed a hat, and then switched to my running shoes. I never noticed the tri-shorts. At Cork, I had to use a changing room to change out of my cycling shorts, costing me another 3-5 minutes. Still worth it! The bike-related gear goes into the bag, which is then hung back up.
Tackling the 26.2-Mile Marathon
Crossing into the run is a HUGE relief! Assuming nothing has gone catastrophically wrong, you should have plenty of time to finish. Your legs will be fatigued, maybe even a bit wobbly. At both of my races, my legs were destroyed coming off the bike. At first, there was no way I could run. Fortunately, you can always walk for 5-10 minutes to loosen up.
But let me be real – the marathon is a sufferfest! It’s a freaking marathon, after all. In all probability, you’ve been racing hard for 7-8 hours already. And if you’re going to cramp or have digestive problems, it’s likely here.
Ultimately, the marathon is a mental game, battling with yourself to keep running, to keep pushing forward. One trick that really helps is to break the run into VERY small chunks. Don’t dwell on the full distance left. Instead, 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. Walk quickly and with purpose!
At some point, you may hit a significant wall. At Copenhagen, I dealt with intense stomach issues about halfway through the run. At Cork, I gassed out pretty bad a little over halfway. At that point, I switched to run/walk intervals. I start with 9 minutes of running to 1 minute of walking, and then I adjust as needed. By the end of both races, it was more like 1 minute of running to 1 minute of walking. Be sure to maintain a brisk power walk. If you start walking at a slow leisurely pace, you may not finish.
At the aid stations, my preference is solid foods: crackers, chips, gummies, and fruit. I also drink mostly water.
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, gradually build up to 18-20 miles.
The marathon at Ironman Copenhagen took me 5:30. The whole race took me 13 hrs and 36 mins.
The marathon at Ironman Cork again took me 5:35. I see this as a serious improvement because Cork’s bike route was absurdly more difficult. The whole race again took me 14 hrs and 4 mins. The swim was cut in half due to very severe swimming conditions.
Cramps & Digestive Issues
Muscle Cramps
Cramps are unpredictable. So far, I’ve avoided cramping at my full Ironman races. However, I cramped severely at my second Half Ironman and during Spartan Ultra and Beast obstacle course races. At my second Half Ironman, my calves, quads, and hamstrings took turns cramping. Stretching only made things worse, forcing me to walk it off each time.
Despite loads of research, we still don’t fully understand the cause or best solution for muscle cramps. All of the common remedies (salt tabs, magnesium drinks, pickle juice) fail to perform better than placebo in trials.
That said, I used salt tabs at Cork. I started to get light leg cramps at the end of the bike route, so I downed a couple of salt tabs in T2. It seemed to work. Even if it’s just a placebo effect, it’s better than nothing. I plan on taking salt tabs with me to all my future races.
Digestive Issues
At Copenhagen, I experienced severe stomach and gut cramps and indigestion. The remedy for me was changing my nutrition strategy (see above). It’s something you need to experiment with. If you find yourself with stomach cramps, try eating crackers and chips. It worked for me.
Who Can Complete a 140.6?
I’m anything but a "natural athlete." I ran my first marathon at 38 and tackled my first full and half Ironmans at 42. I balance family, business, and a wide-ranging passion for fitness, including weightlifting and obstacle course racing. I didn’t get serious about fitness until my 30s.
While most participants may look the part (tall and lean), you'll see a wide variety of shapes and sizes cross the finish line, including some decidedly overweight individuals.
So, if you’ve read this far, I’d bet you 100% can complete an Ironman. But there is one major hurdle we all have to reckon with: TIME.
Training for a full-distance Ironman is almost a full-time job. Most training plans start off around 4 to 6 hours per week and ramp up to a minimum of 14 hours per week towards the end. I've managed to finish my races with less training time, but even then, it was a massive commitment. And if you have a family, it will impact them too.
For this reason, I didn't tackle any ultra-distance races in 2024 (though I did manage a Spartan Trifecta Weekend). I’ve decided ultra-distance races aren't something I’m going to do every year, at least not while I have small kids.
If you have the time but are still on the fence, here are five reasons to sign up:
Health Benefits: You'll get insanely healthy. Research has shown that folks with elite cardiorespiratory fitness are 4 to 5 times less likely to die compared to unfit, sedentary individuals.
Role Model: You'll become a real-life superhero—not to mention an admirable role model—in the eyes of your kids. I'm pretty sure my daughter’s teachers have had their fill of hearing about my Ironman adventures.
Achievement: 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. The event will remain an extremely positive and meaningful memory for years to come.
Life Perspective: Many of life’s challenges seem a bit more manageable after tackling an Ironman. Research shows that fitness improves all aspects of cognitive function while reducing anxiety and depression.
No Regrets: It’s typically the things we DON’T do that we regret.
If you have the itch, go for it! It’s worth it!
Thanks for reading!
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?
