It's Not a Banquet, It's a Race
Facts and Prejudices on Supplementation of Fluids and Calories
I do hope I will be forgiven for not delivering sharply demarcated advice on this complex subject. The reason: we weren't all made on the same conveyor belt, nor were we made at the same time.
Aging by itself makes it harder to retain fluids when we are short on them, and to excrete them, when overloaded. On top of that, a long list of medications can cause inappropriate retention of water.
I am going to describe what has worked for me in thirteen Hawaii Ironman races (a prototype for a long effort in heat), resulting in eight age division wins and two second places. The two DNFs (=did not finish) were not a result of hydration errors.
It is no news that whipping a half-dry and half-starved body makes for a bad race. What is not known widely enough is the extent of the damage, which the coveted iron will can cause in such a situation. These rare occurrences must be kept in mind, since they should be preventable once known.
Twice it has happened that an elite Ironman competitor lost a part of the colon, which did not get enough circulation, presumably because dehydration caused the blood volume to shrink. At the same time, the heat and extreme effort diverted too much of the remaining blood volume into skin for cooling, and into muscles for work.
For that reason I start by trying to acclimate to heat, before flying to Hawaii, slowly increasing the time of running in place in a sauna and also in a steam bath, which is much harder and potentially dangerous for some. I drink a great deal there (see below).
Heat acclimatization produces more efficient cooling, as the size and the output of sweat glands increases.
It is a better-trained athlete who can sweat more, not the one, who barely sweats and provokes great admiration. (S)he is just not trying hard enough or is running out of fluids.
A generation ago ladies with blue beehive hairdos thought showing disgust for sweat confirmed their ladylike upbringing. The level-headed Marge Simpson is more modern, of course.
A well-trained athlete's sweat is dilute and profuse, and contains decreasing amount of salt as the body learns to save sodium through the effect on the sweat glands of the hormone aldosterone, if you really want to know that name.
After a while, bacteria that split urea present in sweat (and urine) multiply and attack it and we get CO(NH2)2 + H2O = CO2 + 2NH3 (ammonia). That happens faster if we have put on a jersey that we forgot to wash after last use, so it should be at least swished around while still wet. Nobody wants to smell like a public pissoir in a small town over there.
It is still a puzzle to me how we have come to accept the term "fresh smell of ammonia." A matter of concentrations, I assume.
Most of the acclimation to heat occurs in 7-10 days of training at least an hour daily. Well-trained athletes have lesser problem with it, because training and heat acclimation both
cause retention of fluid to prepare for the next bout of sweating. Just existing in heat causes same to an extent.
Some think that exercise induced increase in plasma volume is just acclimatization to heat produced by exercise. This increase dilutes the red blood cells (plus others) causing an apparent anemia. Of course, this may be real, since athletes are not immune against the ills of humanity, and also because of losses of iron in sweat and urine (pounding red cells in the soles of the feet may cause the red hemoglobin to be freed from them and excreted in the urine. Some people bleed from the bladder where it hits the pelvic rim. This should not be a self-diagnosis).
Increase in retention of fluid must be the reason that women complain of their feet swelling in hot weather (I assume because of tighter shoes). My friend Zweistein, almost as sharp as Einstein, says they just complain a lot. I totally disagree, at least as much as concerns
triathletes.
While acclimating or racing I do not pour water on since Alberto Salazar's core temperature rose when he ran through a lab shower years ago. I am not sure what to make of that. He is known for prodigious sweat outputs, and many unforgettable wins. Actually, the other way around.
In the race I do shake ice into my swimming trunks and keep it where large blood vessels come close to the surface in the groin. On the other hand, in a cold race I cover the same area by pulling biking shorts over my trunks which kept me, for the same reason, surprisingly warmer on a cold day in Ironman Europe compared with an equally cold day the year before, spent in swimming trunks.
I have a theoretical prejudice against ice collars, since those will cool the blood going to the brain and thus must give it the message that the body is cooler than it really is, which might slow down body's cooling efforts.
I also try to keep the racing effort under the level that requires stealing blood from abdominal organs (guesswork only), and to stay fully supplied with water, salt and sugar. Even 2-3% decrease in body weight due to dehydration can slow down performance.
To get enough calories in sports drinks or my own replacement for those (see below), I am forced to drink large amounts, and in Hawaii that has worked well. I needed no solid food calories to ingest the maximum amount of the carbohydrates which the body could absorb, more than one gram per minute.
On the other hand, an excess of clear water has occasionally caused swelling of the brain with confusion and seizures. These are not common cases as of late, but I should still describe what I have done in order not to become one of them. I owe a great deal to the Ironman Medical Director Dr. Robert Laird for his remark that one day someone would do the whole race by just drinking, and to Keith Wheeler Ph.D. who helped develop Exceed, the original sports drink in the race.
Since I was a study subject in a few Labman studies, performed by reputable researchers like Pam Douglas M.D., Mary O'Toole Ph.D., and associates, my electrolytes, creatinine and hematocrit were checked before and after races. I am happy to report that their levels showed no significant change. I drank only sports drinks and no water in addition. When one drinks too much water and takes in too little salt, water seeps into the cells (salt's sodium, which stays outside the cells, would normally keep water out, but not if the amount of sodium is decreased). Cells swell, and since the brain is enclosed in a rigid box called skull, confusion,
lack of coordination etc. can develop, and worse.
Alternating water and sports drinks (which are designed to cover most needs, and not intended for mixing with water) may cause such problem. One elite athlete did that and she told me she had to drop out of the bike leg early because of confusion. Another ended up in the medical tent with seizures.
These problems are preventable. According to some, by restriction of fluids. I doubt that is correct; I interpret that for my own use as no CLEAR water. Drinking clear water takes up space and time in which I could have resupplied myself with salt and sugar. I try to get enough salt, since I train and race and sweat hard.
I have read the recommendation for 1 gram of salt per hour, but have tried to take about two. I assume that enough (but not too much!) salt will keep water outside of the cells and in the blood: enough blood volume means better circulation in the kidneys, so they get a chance to try to maintain normal salt and water level in the body, and to correct our errors. They can't accomplish that, if they get too little blood to filter.
According to my calculations a liter (about two 16 oz bike bottles) of Gatorade contains about 1.15 gram of salt (20 mEq of Na for those in the know). I did well drinking four bottles (2 liters) an hour (5'9", 155 lbs or 175 cms, 70 kg). Exceed had half as much salt and I got along on two liters an hour of that, with no solid food.
Since in Hawaii the aid stations are five miles apart, this is just right if you ride close to 20 mph. (not into the wind, I bet). In that short time I never "bonked." To be sure that I don't reach the next station with bottle not yet empty, I flip up the top and drink it in one breath, coasting, and with this brief rest usually catch those who got away from me in the meantime.
I no longer use the straw setup, so now I can again mount a helmet mirror on the stem. Now I can keep my head down longer in the headwinds (the tail of the helmet sticking up in such position has been shown to actually decrease drag in the wind tunnel, much to everybody's surprise).
Average sized human body can burn more than one gram of ingested sugar a minute. I don't get hung up on the word sugar, which I avoid in day to day life. Table sugar or sucrose (=glucose and fructose molecule bound together) seems to be passed through the stomach almost as fast as glucose polymers, also called maltodextrins (=chains of several glucose molecules, produced by chemically splitting the longer chains of glucose - called starch - into shorter chains of about 5-6 glucose average length).
Fructose has the theoretical advantage of raising blood sugar (glucose) with some delay, since it has to be changed into glucose in the liver first. It has a very practical disadvantage that it can upset your innards in large amounts. Some drinks have a little of it added, because it is very sweet.
I buy regular table sugar in boxes of cubes, which weigh just under 4 grams each. Eight of those in a standard 16 oz. bottle gives 32 grams in half a liter, or 64 grams in one liter (=1000 grams of water), thus about 6.5% solution, close to 6-7% sports drinks.
If I don't like the race drink, I provide three hours' supply of salt and sugar by putting 90 sugar cubes in a 32-oz. (1 liter) bottle. A #4 capsule (found in pharmacies) filled with fine salt contains 0.9 grams, which equals 15 mEq of sodium for those, who prefer to operate in those units. I owe thanks for this practical information to my old friend and avid cyclist Marjan Kordas, professor of pathophysiology in my country of origin, Slovenia). Therefore I shake six capsulefuls in the same bottle, fill it with water, and mount it behind the seat. Low on the aerobars, it is easy to suck from that level through a long tube (I use one with 3/16th inch or 4mm inner diameter) which is attached to a stiffer tube in the bottle, so it wouldn't curl up from the bottom.
This year I may eliminate the bottle carrier by using a Camelback and refill it after 3 hours, so I will carry only a liter at a time.
At the special needs stations 3 hours later I just snap the new bottle into the same system of a (vented) cap, feeding tube, and stiffener. The bike leg is 112 miles long, so there are at least ten aid stations each way. Before each of those I suck up three ounces (three swallows - I practice sucking up the right volume of a swallow by spitting it out in a measuring cup), and flush them down with a bottle of water handed to me.
I get about the same amount of salt and sugar as I would from an average sports drink. How does it taste? Very sweet and very salty. It tastes only somewhat better than your legs feel, but that taste still symbolizes strength and endurance to suggestible suckers like me.
It's not a banquet; it's a race.
The solution contains no citric acid, so it doesn't irritate my stomach. Orange juice is known for that (it has been used experimentally to induce heartburn), and I suspect that citric acid may loosen the esophageal sphincter, just a thought. Since even running causes backing up (reflux) of acid into the esophagus we can only try to imagine what an aero position will do.
The solution doesn't have blue, red, green or yellow food coloring or magic ingredients, all of unproved value in my opinion and according to my reading. I like the idea of calcium (Exceed had it), since we lose a great deal of it in the sweat, enough, that during exercise there is a rise in the blood level of parathyroid hormone (which is in charge of raising blood calcium level).
A friend, subject to cramps, takes a Tum (400 mg of calcium) every few hours with improvement. This is not backed up by studies so far. In training I drink a cup of milk (300 mg of calcium) when I anticipate much sweating. It is a bit disturbing that in at least one study, triathletes had no more calcium in the bones than couch potatoes.
Maybe the loss in sweat is the cause, and maybe inadequate dietary intake in some cases, or too high protein intake. Protein burns down to urea, which has to be flushed out through the kidneys, thus increasing calcium losses.
I get no cramps, but that may be due to adequate salt and water intake. In old steamers' boiler room stokers would get "stoker's cramp," until someone thought of giving them mineral water.
Average fluid intake in the Ironman has been reported to be 2 liters an hour.
I was taught during my medical training that stomach could only pass 1.2 liters an hour. This datum (yes, "this data" is wrong) has cascaded from textbook to textbook and finally sunken out of sight with other prejudices, including the one that race like the Ironman would be dangerous to older folks, even though trained.
There have been no deaths in the 20 years and among 20 000 competitors in Ironman Hawaii. We can only imagine the reaction of those olympic committee officials who thought women should not run marathons, when they saw them do it following 112 miles of cycling in headwinds.
I would like to have seen their faces when they read how Paula Newby Fraser beat all the Ironman field except for the top ten men in 1988. Or how Julie Moss' came in third overall behind Dave Scott and Scott Molina in Ironman Japan in 1985. I can't help digressing, these are fabulous facts. I hope they help your adrenalin production as much as they help mine. This adrenalin is not manufactured commercially, like in stadiums.
I lost ten pounds in the race (weighing before and after the event on the same scale), in spite of drinking about 18 liters (four and a half gallons), and while having a very good race.
This loss, however, could be partly accounted for by losing the weight gain from pre-race carbohydrate loading (that deposits in the muscles about one pound of glycogen which binds three pounds of water), by burning a pound of fat or more, and by getting dehydrated about 2% of body weight or 3 pounds.
It is clear that losses are noticeable, especially in the lava fields, where I saw a spectator fry an egg on the asphalt for special effect. I hear someone measured the temperature one foot above the asphalt at 140 F. which doesn't matter much, especially if you avoided "hot foot" by picking shoes with light colored soles. It is remarkable that one feels very little heat, partly due to the wind, and partly due to efficient, voluminous sweating of a well acclimated body.
I, too, prefer to use common sense before taking anything on faith, so I did not start adding salt to the food while training in Hawaii. This would suppress aldosterone, the hormone that holds the salt in the body, because it is needed less when salt is plentiful.
When you get no salt in the swim (except in inhaled sea water), and start sweating on the bike, aldosterone hurries to get back to work, but in the meantime you are one or two bottles behind, and it is try-to-catch-up from here on. It is hard enough just to keep up with the losses, since, during a hard effort, there is very little blood going to the gut to absorb food or drink. (I had a banana on the bike during a half Ironman in Texas, and after the ensuing half marathon, I threw up the banana which was still waiting around in the stomach for something).
When we land after the swim, my salt conservation mechanism is at least not turned off and is already in a miser mode; thus it is easier for me to make do with the amount of salt I get in on the spot and later on the course.
I know of no studies to support my kind of approach, but I am using it until I learn more. Although I am not clear on what has been working for me, adequate hydration is the prime suspect in face of my scandalously low volume of training. It is not smart not to think about fluids, since Hawaii Ironman is, to a great extent, a drinking race. And this, but not the other, kind of drinking I practice seriously during sweaty workouts.
For the outsiders who wonder how we drink just the right amount, I should mention that in the race it is not practical to stop and cater to your bladder. "Pee by Hawi (the turnaround)" is advice passed on for years.
I would say that by then it is very late, but it all depends on the capacity of your bladder. It is easier to judge, where you stand (so to speak) in producing urine if you have a smaller capacity. If you are making none, trouble may be coming. The kidneys likely aren't getting anything to work with, and cannot straighten out the consequences of your overambitious
underthink.
The Porta-Potties are seen on the course, but are not popular. Stepping in one is like moving from a sauna into a furnace. If the structure starts to sway on the uneven lava, you have one more unneeded sensory message to try to sort out. However, it is good to see that the athletes still have strength left, as they sprint towards the same one from both directions, to leap over the threshold if there first, or hit the wall fiercely with the fist if second.
Mincing in place helps very little.
Only once I used gels. I didn't get enough fluid with them in Ironman Canada stations, farther apart than in Hawaii, and must have configured the system wrong.
On the run I had to stop a dozen times with fast osmotic diarrhea, while chasing a person in my age group reported by three different people to be ahead of me. I still hadn't caught the phantom man running between me and qualification for Hawaii, so I pushed through pain, and inadvertently took 45 minutes off age group record.
This showed on my lack-luster race in Hawaii six weeks later. I was lucky that everybody else had a bad race, too. The moral: frequent sit-downs can wreck your rhythm and raise the dickens with your chemistry. As always, I was aware of the rule that you should never use anything for the first time in a race. I ignored it, satisfied that I had that knowledge.
The other moral: knowing you are committing an error gives you only intellectual comfort.
Thus I get no or almost no solids in the race. By contrast, I know of a man who ate two fried chickens in the bike to run transition and still finished the race. Thus there is more than one way to pluck a cat or skin a chicken.
I just made this bad attempt at humor, so you wouldn't feel too sorry to see the end come. Train safely and don't believe everything you
read.
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