Challenge Roth 2023 Race Report

Challenge Roth Race Report (June 25, 2023)

Challenge Roth is generally accepted as the second most important triathlon in the world, behind the Ironman World Championships in Kona, Hawaii.  Roth is a small German village, population of 25,000, approximately 40 min drive from Nüremburg to the north and 90 minutes from Munich to the south. The triathlon spans a total distance of 226 km (140.6 miles) throughout the neighbouring Bavarian villages and countryside. The region fully embraces this triathlon and the 3500 competitors by furnishing 7500 volunteers and 300,000 fully engaged spectators. It is a bucket-list event for many and Guylaine and I were fortunate to gain entry as it sells out quickly: in fact, 23 seconds when we registered. 

We arrived “on location” Thursday morning prior to Sunday’s race. This was enough time for us to acclimate to the time change (+6 hours), assemble the bikes, and attend all the required pre-race check-ins, briefings, and festivities. We had rented a nice VRBO in a tiny farming hamlet called, Theilenhofen, a 25ish minute drive to Roth and also 25 minutes from the town of Hilpolstein where the race actually starts. Oh and yes, I survived the autobahn experience - it was terrifying being passed by a Maserati (who was surely doing more than 185). 

The Race

We arrived on site at 5:00AM as advised by the race organizers. Guylaine was to start at 7:15 and I at 7:35. We had plenty of time to waste being nervous, checking over everything 3 times, and getting in line to start way too early. The pros went off at 6:30. The sound of the canon going off scared the bejusus out of us and also grounded us: it’s “GoTime”… 3 years of Covid delays and 1000s of training miles were about to come to a head. 

The Swim (3800 meters in the Donau Canal)

I had anticipated being able to have a bit of a warm up swim prior to starting. This was not the case. The 7:35 AM starters, as identified by the marking on our swim caps, were allowed to cross the first timing mat and enter the water at 7:30. We would have only enough time to wade out the 100 meters to the start rope and tread water anxiously for the sound of our own canon.

I could see the starter’s hand. The “German-3-sign”, followed by 2 fingers, 1 finger and then BOOM! I pressed ‘start’ on my watch and off we went. 

My goal for the swim was 1:40/100m pace. This would equate to 1hr3mins total swim time. I am a decent swimmer, but this was still an ambitious goal. I was hoping some good swim tactics would pay off. They did. Tactic 1 - swim as close to the middle of the canal as possible (my career as a water resources engineer thanks me). Tactic 2 - find other fast swimmers and draft. In this type of triathlon you are in fact allowed to swim right behind someone; you are NOT allowed to ride the bike within 12 m of anyone. After the first frantic 2 minutes I spotted a group of swimmers that were about 15 metres in front of me.  I made a conscious effort to burn some energy and bridge the gap, with the hopes that their momentum would pull me along. It worked.  After catching up, I could hang on to the back of the group by not expending too much energy and give myself an opportunity to recover from the previous hard effort.

Before long we were catching the slower swimmers from previous waves. Also, one-by-one the group I was in was thinning out. By the time we hit the first turnaround buoy, it was only the lead swimmer and me. The next 1000m was very chaotic as we were catching up to and swimming around and over increasingly thicker groups of slower swimmers. It wasn’t pleasant for me, and I am sure it wasn’t ideal for them. 

Eventually at probably 2500m, I could sense my chaperone was tiring out, so I took a leap of faith and powered on by myself. 

The Kick to the face

At the final turn around buoy, with 400 meters left back to shore, it happened. BOOM.  Not another canon, but a Chuck Norris-esque roundhouse to the left eye from a very enthusiastic breast stroker. Simultaneously I saw stars and blackness, the sound of bells and my own chattering teeth deafened me. After what seemed like an eternity I figured out what happened and swore very loudly.  My aggressor was treading water apologetically, I nodded and powered on with the resulting adrenaline boost.   

I hit the shore and was helped out by the volunteers. I stopped my watch, it read 3900 meters and 1hr 1min. I was so stoked. Way faster than I would ever have imagined. I was looking forward to having it uploaded to Strava for all to see. In my post orgasmic state I think I tapped ‘discard workout’ instead of ‘save’. ?? Fortunately, the timing mat was right at the exit and it exists as a split on the official results. 

Transition 1 (Changing from Swim to Bike)

Immediately out of the swim, we are ushered up a short path and into a large tent. Along the path are 3 aisles. Along the aisles, on the ground, in numerical order are our labeled transition bags. I spotted mine (#2537) and picked it uo as I jogged into the tent. 

I have found what works best for me is to swim with my cycling outfit under my swimming wetsuit. All I needed to do in the tent was take off my wetsuit, take out my bike shoes, put on my race belt (with my race number attached) and put in the few items of food I wanted to carry in my back pocket.  I am usually fast in these transitions, but I had agreed to not rush myself and not make any mistakes. Leaving the change tent, I only had a short jog to my bike, which had been assigned a spot very close to the tent and conveniently close to the ‘bike exit’ location of transition.  My total changeover time was 4 minutes. I was on my bike and rolling through the throngs of cheering fans. 

The Bike (178 km, approximately 1500m of total climbing; 2 x 85ish km loops plus a 10ish km segment to T2)

Cautious not to over bike, I was committed to biking within my means, which technically equates to averaging 170 Watts Normalised Power during the ride. Using an online tool (bestbikesplit.com), this would translate to an average speed of 33km/hr assuming certain aerodynamic parameters.  I had setup my bike computer to Auto-Lap every 10km and I was watching my average power expenditure and speed the entire time, allowing myself to coast on downhills and being careful not to go too hard up the hills. Theoretically it worked. My final bike split was 5:38:03; within 30 seconds of my prediction. 

About the Bike Course 

Wow.  Yes.  Outstanding. Every minute I felt like I was riding the Tour-de-France. Through EVERY small town, the streets were lined with cheering fans, up every steep hill - the crowds encouraged you up, and then the most iconic section of the course, the Solarer Berg Hill. A section where you cannot see the road in front of you for all the cheering fans. Words really can’t describe the experience. I won’t even try. It was fantastic, I was smiling ear to ear. A memory that can never be erased. 

The bike course was very scenic; along country roads and in and out of numerous small towns. The road surface was immaculate; smoother than a fresh jar of Skippy. The roads were 99% closed to vehicular traffic. There was only ever one direction of bike flow; you didn’t see bikers approaching you from the other side. It was a “lumpy” course; I was constantly scrolling through my gears up and down little hills. It was more technical than expected; many twists and turns including high-speed switch-backs on one of the longer descents. Special safety barriers were in place to catch people from falling off the mountain. The route was well-patrolled by race marshals; I was passed at least 10 times by referees on motorcycles. Drafting also appeared to be enforced as there were offenders serving their ‘time-outs’ in the various penalty boxes around the route (for those familiar, they have done away with the penalty lap on the run course). It was a hot day; hot and sunny. No clouds and no shade. During the bike, it didn’t seem to bother me.  I drank a lot of water and iso (isotonic is the European alternative to Gatorade, although it is nothing like Gatorade, it is quite mellow tasting and for me seemed easier on the gut - more reminiscent of eLoad, which I have had previously in Canada). But very sticky, I have never been so sticky, my arms were almost glued to the arm pads.  

The aid stations were plentiful, well staffed, well stocked and ideally positioned, usually at the base of a hill. The gels and bars were the European version of PowerBar. The gels have a liquidy consistency that is not unpleasant but different. They did not appear to upset my stomach (despite a small vomit episode at 150k, but I think that was due to cautiously consuming too much liquid). 

After 2 loops on the bike, you take a right hand turn and head about 10k towards transition 2 in Roth. 

Random thoughts about the bike course: there were many über-bikers, the pros are wicked-fast.  Magnus Ditlev with Sam Laidlow inches behind passed me like I was standing still, they were finishing lap 2 as I was finishing lap 1.  They also had a mega lead on Ben Kanute and Patrick Lange in 3rd and 4th place as it took a long while before they eventually passed me. That was it for my view of the pro race; I was hoping to see the women go by me. The hills were not terribly hard: Greding was like La Conception (Mont Tremblant) and Solarer Berg was like Pink Lake (Gatineau Park). I was worried the crowds on Solar would spike my power, but there was such a logjam, I just sat up and spinned.  The second time up was even slower due to the backup. The crowds had thinned out about 50% the second time up. 

Transition 2 (Changing from Bike to Run)

At the dismount line, my bike was whisked away by a volunteer. I was ushered along the green carpet, around a corner, and there was another volunteer holding up my transition bag for me to grab. This bag was previously dropped off the day before and contained my running shoes, socks, hat, sun glasses, some extra gels, and my running outfit. For Ironmans, I prefer a full clothes change, it might add 20 seconds to my transition time, but that fresh feeling is fantastic. So, uhm, at Roth, the change tents are co-ed. Oh, and I was assigned an enthusiastic young lady to help me out. I did confirm, “am I allowed to fully change in here?”  Throwing modesty out the window I was quickly buck naked and then freshly reclothed. Taking the time to properly dry my feet off, arrange my socks, and double-knot my shoes, I was out the tent and running in 4:36. On my way out I was handed a stack of cold wet sponges.  I squeezed them over my head and stuffed one down my shirt. 

The Run (42 km)

For some reason I hadn’t studied the run course. I knew there were some out and back parts, and some time spent along the canal. Truth be told, I absolutely hated the run course. Shortly after the transition tent, we are sent through a small industrial park, and along the canal.  The run along the canal is on crushed stone. It is basically a long 20km out and back. It never seemed to end. Some people like soft stone to run on, I find it tiring.  Eventually you finish that part and then you run another small out and back, and finally you run yet another long out and back. Although I do own a pair of Nike “super shoes”, I had opted for my regular shoes since the Nike’s are a little on the tight side and give me blisters after 10k.

Despite not liking the run course I was doing well: too well.  My aim was for a 4 hour marathon, this would mean holding a 5:40 pace… my first few km splits were in the low 5:00 range. I could not force myself to run any slower. Eventually by about 15k, I had managed to wean myself down to 5:30s, and I thought I was destined for a new Ironman PR. 

Cue the unexpected left hamstring cramp at 23k. “Ohhhhh noooo!” Mont Tremblant all over again???  Actually, not.  I was able to work it out and get back without losing too much time, but then… shortly after, cue the darkness. 

I have mentioned that it was hot.  So hot, I was taking unprecedented efforts at every aid station to get as much cold water dumped on me as possible (and they were all set up to accommodate this: big vats with volunteers dumping pails and pitchers over all requesting it). I had even picked up several filthy discarded sponges along the way to stuff into my top to hold the cold water. The preceding 8 hours of exercise, the relentless sun and the quick initial pace of the marathon physically prevented me from running. I felt terrible, certainly I was flirting with heat stroke. I was forced to walk. I still felt strong mentally and was determined to continue, but I just could not run. Eventually I started to feel better, I put my head down and was able to jog the last 8km.  5K left… I can do that.  4K left… I can do that. 3K left… less than 20 minutes. And then finally, into the stadium. Slight sensory overload.  I had planned to soak it up, but I just wanted it all to be done. I crossed the line and I do remember raising my hands. 

Final marathon time 4:24. Final overall time 11 hours 12 minutes. 

Challenge Roth has lived up to the hype. The fan support was unbelievable. And yet, if I am to be honest, it still leaves a lot to be desired. For two people participating, it is a logistical nightmare. The overall size for me was too much. I won’t dwell on the negatives; I was fortunate to have participated in an historic day; both world records were beaten. And, despite my own misfortune on the run, I am still proud of my accomplishment.

Guylaine can relay her own experience, but suffice to say, I was brought to tears as she arrived at the finish line and also our embrace will not be forgotten.