By cascading the swim starts and offering triathletes optional start times, Ironman has decided to deal with its growing swim safety issue, and growing PR headache, by treating the symptom rather than attacking the disease. WTC is packaging this newest change as "greater choice" for its ironmen and ironwomen, but in reality the privately held company that holds exclusive rights to Ironman worldwide is hoping that by allowing triathletes to self-seed according to expected swim times, many of their overcrowded triathlons will become safer, at least during the swim.
I've been fortunate enough to have toed the starting line with some of the best athletes in the world. Starting at the same time as the best, while potentially humbling, is also a great gauge of personal performance, a chance to say you've rubbed shoulders (or perhaps wetsuits, bike handlebars, or Nordic skis) albeit briefly before the gun, with some of the best.
2:29 may have been a very satisfying PR marathon at New York City, but it paled in comparison with Juma Ikanga's blazing 2:07 performance that same day. A 9:43 performance at Kona back in '84 may have been good enough for 7th place overall, but it was a far cry from Dave Scott's record-breaking, first-ever, sub-9-hour performance at Kona that same October day.
WTC has already removed the pros from the mass-start Kona field, thereby insulating the putative professionals in the sport from potential challenges of the faster age-group swimmers. In so doing, it has allowed the pros, and in particular the media, to better isolate and focus on the "real show" of the generally faster pro competitors - no matter that 95% of the day's competitors aren't professionals. Throughout the day, the pros know where they are relative to their competition, and WTC makes them feel extra special by providing them their own feed zones, where they can place their own drinks and foods.
The age-groupers, meanwhile, who, let's remind ourselves, pretty much bankroll the whole operation at Ironman Inc., compete in obscurity, wholly lacking any helpful information about their age-group standings throughout, and even after, the race. After finishing my Kona qualifier at Ironman South Africa in 2011, for more than an hour post-finish repeated queries to race officials and volunteers at the finish line, in the massage tent, and at the refreshment tables turned up nothing in the way of helpful information about how I'd done. Only after collecting my pre-race bag of personal affects and turning on my phone did a call from my father-in-law - in Colorado of all places, who had been following the race via internet and calls to friends and family - confirm my standing at the top of the age group. It was the only time in the previous 11 hours that I had any idea where I was in relation to my age-group competition! Given the multiplicity of technological applications for all sorts of things these days, it doesn't take a great deal of imagination to conjure a world in which all triathletes can have a better sense of how they're doing relative to the competition, in real time, pretty much throughout the race. Why has Ironman not allowed this?
Competitive sorts want to be in the exact same race under the exact same conditions as the next guy. With WTC's current thinking, a slow swimmer could presumably self-seed for a later swim start, thereby experiencing potentially different race conditions than the faster swimmer who may have started three or four waves earlier. A 6:30 swim start (pros) may not seem all that different than a 7:30 swim start (slower fish), but I'll trade an hour of early-morning-Kona Cool relative for a late-afternoon hour of Energy Lab Meltdown any day, and my guess is so would others.
The wave starts make me nervous for a few other reasons as well. By hosting a processional of athletes, rather than one specific, self-contained race, lifeguards will need to be stationed throughout the swim course for a very long time, especially given that the later swimmers to start will presumably be many of your slowest. And that's just the swim. How about the marathon? By stretching out the start times, WTC is indirectly asking its volunteers, who already put in amazingly grueling hours race day, to hang in there just a bit longer. If I'm a volunteer at Kona, I'm potentially seeing runners from just before noon until midnight (or more, if WTC sticks with the 17 hour rule and goes to wave starts on the swim). By any measure, that's a long day - a good deal longer than many of the competitors' days, particularly in Kona.
Apart from lengthening the days of those who already give so much so that we can compete in this crazy sport of ours, the wave swim starts make me nervous for another reason as well. Ironman wants us to think the wave starts are for our own good, and that they'll make the race safer and more manageable for all. Yet WTC is clearly in this business to make a ton of money. By dividing a field of 2,000 by four and creating groups of roughly 500 in the water, my hunch is that Ironman executives will be tempted to allow those groups to grow. After all, they've been in the business of sending off waves of more than 1,000 swimmers at a time for a few decades now; putting groups of 600 or 700 in the drink will seem paltry in comparison - and readily defensible.
Yet, given the current information blackout for age-groupers, wave starts will only add further dissonance to those there to race against the best, no matter their age. Did that guy up ahead on the bike start before me, with me, or after me? Given the prevalence of varied transitions, potty breaks, penalty time-outs and such, it'll be anyone's guess with the new wave starts.
So here are my suggestions:
I've been fortunate enough to have toed the starting line with some of the best athletes in the world. Starting at the same time as the best, while potentially humbling, is also a great gauge of personal performance, a chance to say you've rubbed shoulders (or perhaps wetsuits, bike handlebars, or Nordic skis) albeit briefly before the gun, with some of the best.
2:29 may have been a very satisfying PR marathon at New York City, but it paled in comparison with Juma Ikanga's blazing 2:07 performance that same day. A 9:43 performance at Kona back in '84 may have been good enough for 7th place overall, but it was a far cry from Dave Scott's record-breaking, first-ever, sub-9-hour performance at Kona that same October day.
WTC has already removed the pros from the mass-start Kona field, thereby insulating the putative professionals in the sport from potential challenges of the faster age-group swimmers. In so doing, it has allowed the pros, and in particular the media, to better isolate and focus on the "real show" of the generally faster pro competitors - no matter that 95% of the day's competitors aren't professionals. Throughout the day, the pros know where they are relative to their competition, and WTC makes them feel extra special by providing them their own feed zones, where they can place their own drinks and foods.
The age-groupers, meanwhile, who, let's remind ourselves, pretty much bankroll the whole operation at Ironman Inc., compete in obscurity, wholly lacking any helpful information about their age-group standings throughout, and even after, the race. After finishing my Kona qualifier at Ironman South Africa in 2011, for more than an hour post-finish repeated queries to race officials and volunteers at the finish line, in the massage tent, and at the refreshment tables turned up nothing in the way of helpful information about how I'd done. Only after collecting my pre-race bag of personal affects and turning on my phone did a call from my father-in-law - in Colorado of all places, who had been following the race via internet and calls to friends and family - confirm my standing at the top of the age group. It was the only time in the previous 11 hours that I had any idea where I was in relation to my age-group competition! Given the multiplicity of technological applications for all sorts of things these days, it doesn't take a great deal of imagination to conjure a world in which all triathletes can have a better sense of how they're doing relative to the competition, in real time, pretty much throughout the race. Why has Ironman not allowed this?
Competitive sorts want to be in the exact same race under the exact same conditions as the next guy. With WTC's current thinking, a slow swimmer could presumably self-seed for a later swim start, thereby experiencing potentially different race conditions than the faster swimmer who may have started three or four waves earlier. A 6:30 swim start (pros) may not seem all that different than a 7:30 swim start (slower fish), but I'll trade an hour of early-morning-Kona Cool relative for a late-afternoon hour of Energy Lab Meltdown any day, and my guess is so would others.
The wave starts make me nervous for a few other reasons as well. By hosting a processional of athletes, rather than one specific, self-contained race, lifeguards will need to be stationed throughout the swim course for a very long time, especially given that the later swimmers to start will presumably be many of your slowest. And that's just the swim. How about the marathon? By stretching out the start times, WTC is indirectly asking its volunteers, who already put in amazingly grueling hours race day, to hang in there just a bit longer. If I'm a volunteer at Kona, I'm potentially seeing runners from just before noon until midnight (or more, if WTC sticks with the 17 hour rule and goes to wave starts on the swim). By any measure, that's a long day - a good deal longer than many of the competitors' days, particularly in Kona.
Apart from lengthening the days of those who already give so much so that we can compete in this crazy sport of ours, the wave swim starts make me nervous for another reason as well. Ironman wants us to think the wave starts are for our own good, and that they'll make the race safer and more manageable for all. Yet WTC is clearly in this business to make a ton of money. By dividing a field of 2,000 by four and creating groups of roughly 500 in the water, my hunch is that Ironman executives will be tempted to allow those groups to grow. After all, they've been in the business of sending off waves of more than 1,000 swimmers at a time for a few decades now; putting groups of 600 or 700 in the drink will seem paltry in comparison - and readily defensible.
Yet, given the current information blackout for age-groupers, wave starts will only add further dissonance to those there to race against the best, no matter their age. Did that guy up ahead on the bike start before me, with me, or after me? Given the prevalence of varied transitions, potty breaks, penalty time-outs and such, it'll be anyone's guess with the new wave starts.
So here are my suggestions:
- Nix the wave starts and get back to one race, and that includes the separate pro start. So what if the pros think they're special? Dave Scott and Mark Allen are legends of the sport, right? They seemed to survive starting with the entire field again and again okay, and I don't ever recall either of them complaining about the mass swim start...
- Mandate an open water swim test for any first-timers to any 70.3 or full Ironman. Given that WTC has marketed Ironman as the be all, end all of triathlon, it's hardly a surprise that there are increasing numbers of inexperienced triathletes competing at 1.2 and 2.4 mile swims. The swim is your insurance underwriter's nightmare, so as part of the application process, put in place a swim-qualifying procedure. You shouldn't just get to pay your money and sign up for a 70.3 or full. I didn't. In fact, it was a number of years, and more than a dozen triathlons later, before I did my first Ironman. The Ironman distances daunted me, as they should anyone, and in my gut I knew that I wasn't ready in '82, or '83, years when I entered most any triathlon and bike race I could find in the midwest, winning most of them. By the time I'd competed in my first Ironman distance triathlon in July of '84, I'd been a triathlete for three years, swum a season in college, competed in more than a dozen triathlons, and worked on my modest swimming for four years. Beyond a fat payment for entry, is Ironman demanding enough of its entrants?
- Forget about differentiating age groups during the swim, but beginning with the bike have each age group competitor easily identifiable by race officials and fellow athletes. All kinds of systems could be tested, but as a competitive age group triathlete I should be able to scan the field around or in front of me and be reasonably able to tell which ones are in my age group.
- Chip technology should allow for age-group standings to be constantly updated, making it possible to have large monitors around Kona, at Havi, at the Energy Lab, and at the finish (for examples) posting the positions in each age group. Technology has meant that all folks (and not just athletes) want accurate information in real time. WTC risks comparison to the Catholic Church unless it comes out of the Dark Ages and lets people have access to the information they want, when they want it.
- Now comes perhaps the most controversial suggestion. Kona bills itself as a World Championship. Yet hundreds of triathletes compete each October who actually didn't qualify. They may be there because they've done dozens of Ironman competitions and therefore get in on sheer volume and determination (and a lot of money). Or they may be there because they've paid more and increased their odds of getting in by lottery. Or they may be there just through the long, long odds of lottery. Or they may be there by special invitation from WTC. Yet what other athletic world championship does this? So, my suggestion: only allow folks who have actually, verifiably qualified to compete at Kona; not doing so just depreciates the experience for the majority who got there the hard way. Limiting Kona fields to 1500, and qualifier fields to verifiable swimmers, and getting rid of all the hangers on will allow for safer mass swim starts. Rather than more money to WTC, isn't that what we really should be after right now?
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