Is CrossFit Good Prep For Ironman? This Man Found Out the Hard Way
MH coach, CrossFitter, powerlifter and all-rround good guy Scott Britton is known for his incredible strength, jaw-dropping fitness, and unwavering kindness through the worldwide charity fitness competition he founded, Battle Cancer. Now he's taking on a new challenge – and it's going to take him slightly longer than a 10-minute metcon... We've covered Scott's training already , but now he talks us through his first ever Ironman experience, sparing no details to help you in your own training.
So it was the final countdown. Time to answer the question: could an ex-powerlifter and CrossFitter actually get around a full Ironman course with just five months of training – and finish in some kind of respectable time?
First, Let's Talk Packing
It all begins 24 hours before the race with the check-in day. This in itself feels like an endurance test before you even start the race.
Check-in has all the fun stuff of getting your chip timer, fancy Ironman gear and signing away your life for the next 24 hours.
Then came the aforementioned bags. You have a number of "gear" bags and then your "special needs" bags. When coming out of the water, you transition to your bike gear bag, halfway through the bike comes your first special needs bag, then your run transition bag and finally, halfway through your run, another special needs bag.
You drop all of these off at different points on the course, leaving you with just your morning bag, which will be the bag you have before taking to the water to kick off.
Heres what went in each of these essential survival bags, for me.
Morning Bag
Clothes to change into post-race
Phone (wave goodbye to social media for the rest of the day)
Bike Transition Bag
Bike shoes
Helmet
Socks
Maurten gels, solids, fig bars
Cinnamon bread and jam snack
2 x bananas
Towel
Pre-made electrolyte
Natural caffeine hit from Tenzing
Bike Special Needs Bag
Pre-made 1L bottles to replace the four on my bike
Maurten gels, solids, fig bars
Cinnamon bread and jam snack
2 x bananas
Spare socks
Anti-inflammatory
Run Transition Bag
Run shoes: Nike Alphafly
New socks for running
1 x banana
Maurten gels, solids
Race belt with number attached
Run Special Needs Bag
1 x banana
Maurten gels, solids
Spare socks
Special mix of caffeine and powerade (big sugar and caffeine hit)
Anti-inflammatory
Testing the Waters
Bags checked in, bike locked in place and my race numbers on everything from my helmet to my bike, now it was time for some last-minute prep: a little ocean swim test.
The waves at Panama City Beach were like nothing I had ever experienced before. I took hit after hit from the waves, but just couldn't get out past the breaks. I spent the next hour in my head, worrying that I wouldn't even make it past the swim. Months of training, all that money spent, and all the support I'd received up until that point, and now I was facing the thought that I'd fail on the first section. I spent the rest of the day (and night) wrestling with those demons of doubt. If I was too slow on the swim, it was all over for me.
Race Morning
I woke tired, but determined that come hell or high water (maybe literally) I'd swim that course. I kicked off with a 4:30am wake up to eat some oatmeal, get in some water and electrolytes. I knew I needed some serious fuelling for the swim attempt alone, but not too much. If I made it out onto the bike, that'd be the time for a major feed.
I made my way down to the ocean start line and was relieved to see that it had calmed dramatically since the previous day. I'd only have to tackle waves for the first 100m. It provided a timely confidence boost, and left me super determined to hit that water and show that this non-floating lifter can do this!
The Swim
The time had come. I hit the water, broke through the waves and pushed on, one stroke at at time for the next 2.4 miles.
An hour and forty minutes later I emerged from the ocean, victorious and ecstatic. The swim was done and it was the fastest ocean pace I had ever sustained. The tide pulled like crazy and a lot of diagonal swimming added to my distance, but after hitting the first lap of the course and seeing my time, the second lap became the most fun I've ever had in the water. Despite the (accidental) kicks and punches coming my way from the other swimmers, I couldn't stop smiling!
The Bike
My first transition took almost 18 minutes (big work here for future races). I was so happy with myself having gone from not being able to swim five months ago to finishing an Ironman-distance effort, and I probably spent way too long soaking in the moment. But I eventually grabbed my bike, dried up, whacked on my shoes and socks and began the biggest leg of the race.
Being a slow swimmer and starting in the last group meant I had the fun of pushing on the bike to catch people. I made a game of trying to overtake as many people as possible. managing 382 by the end. This wasn't just a bit of fun for the competitive streak in me, it also kept my mind strong for the ride.
A huge element here is eating and drinking, and it was a hot day, which played into the strategy. At 26 degrees in the shade, it was full summer heat. My strategy was to take on some fluid and a small snack every 20 minutes. I mixed it up with gel followed by solid, followed by fluid carbs. But the goal was 100 grams of carbs per hour for the bike.
The headwinds on the open sections were some of the hardest I'd ever encountered on a flat ride, but the fun part was coming back around the loop – and the tail winds making you fly.
The last 2 miles felt slow, I think my body and mind were getting to a point where the final hurdle of the marathon run was looming so large that time seemed slowed down.
Rolling into the transition to lock out the bike at a little over 6 hours, I wanted to get running asap. No messing around and soaking in the moment on this one.
The Run
By this point, according to my Garmin I had burned 7,000 calories already, while losing around 10 litres of sweat, but one of the biggest failures in the execution of this race was just on the horizon.
All I had to do was complete this the marathon and I was done. I could call myself an Ironman and never do this again. I'd prove to myself it was doable and show the world you can lift and have some endurance.
Shoes on, race belt on, and I was off .
The race course was two "out and back" runs, so effectively run a half marathon loop, then go again.
It was just beginning to cool down as I set off, and seeing the triathlon pros on the course was epic to witness. The sheer speed they were maintaining for that level of time is mind blowing. On the other hand, I also saw the pros cramping up, throwing up and even being carried off course. Even for them, there's a redline of endurance, and it's a fine line.
I'm a slow runner, I know this, so I trained slow and set off slow. I knew all I had to do was keep going. The first full run out and back was pretty fun with lots of crowd and the sun slowly going down. I knew my nutrition on paper, but now I was learning what it felt like in practice. I was taking on nutrition and fluid at each of the aid stations, which were spaced 1 mile apart.
It was all going great, until it wasn't. As I headed out for my second loop, the sun had dropped and the temperature came down a lot. I didn't think I needed as much fluid, I wasn't feeling thirsty, so I started to skip aid stations with the aim of pushing my time as close to 13 hours as possible.
At around mile 19, with another 7 left to complete, it hit – a crazy pain in my bladder alongside the sensation that I needed to pee, badly. I stopped and tried to pee, and boy was I dehydrated. The pain in my bladder wasn't shifting, and the more I drank in an attempt to counter it, the more I needed to pee.
I pushed on, painfully ticking away at the miles. Five miles left, then 4, then at 3 miles I told myself, It's just a 5k. Head down. Go for it. Happy that I had fixed my hydration issue, I didn't stop at any more aid stations. I pushed through the pain and built up my pace. As the darkness set in and glow sticks of the other runners began to spread out in front and behind me, I made my way through the fastest 3 miles of the entire marathon.
The unmistakable sound of the finish line was growing louder, spurring me on. At the 1-mile mark, knowing that friends and family were awaiting me, just 1,600m ahead, my old CrossFit mindset of "finishing fast" kicked in and, feeling like I was in one long 100-metre sprint, I made the last mile my fastest.
I jubilantly crossed the finish line, absolutely buzzing with my time: I hadn't just completed my first full Ironman triathlon, at 4 hrs 58 mins and 50 secs I'd also hit a marathon PB.
The Cool-down
I've competed in powerlifting world finals, won medals in countries around the world and managed to stand on the podium at giant CrossFit competitions, but something about this felt different. Seeing my fellow Ironman finishers at the end, all of us being greeted by our family and friends – myself with a loving support team of 12 people – is something that will stay with me forever. I'd take the bladder pain for 10 more hours for that!
The question now is, do I stick to my original plan of one and done? Well, I already know that answer is no. In 2025 I'm kicking off "Project sub-12 hours", aiming not just to finish, but to finish faster.
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