Why Bucket Lists aren't enough:
A Bucket List is a list of things that take no effort/preparation/talent. Things that you can just do, as long as you carve out some time.
Example: Go to South By Southwest
A Life List item is a list of things that you need to work for. Something that requires dedication and committment
Example: Perform at South By Southwest
Bucket lists are fine. Some things you just want to experience. But they're not enough. It's not enough to just be a spectator of life. Sometimes you need to take part.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Minuteman Tri
Time for the Minuteman Tri. This was the 2nd race of the year (after Pine Barrens), and was a sprint, so it was very low pressure. I was just getting into my training stride for the Half Ironman in October, so this was really just a glorified training session. Not a lot of pressure. Just go out and see how I can do.
We got to the course at a decent time, and headed toward registration. The line was very long, and continued to grow even after we got there. Surely they'd have to delay the start, judging by how slowly the line was moving. I finally got to the registration table, and I found that I got a really great race number (and, subsequently, a great bike rack spot). Turns out they put me into the elite wave. I'm not elite, so I started to think it was a mistake. Turns out I got the position because I had done so well in the Whaling City Tri the year before that they automatically put me into the elite wave. Sweet. The elite wave was first, but oddly, it was full of other not-quite-elites. Even some first-timers. Weird. In any case, I was excited to be in the first wave. Felt a little like a celebrity.
The race began quickly enough. The swim start was quick, and I was out and moving, feeling very good. Since it was such a small wave, there wasn't a lot of bumping around with other athletes. I felt strong the entire time, and I think it showed. I was 2nd out of the water. Not too bad. I grabbed my bike quickly and was off and riding. I ended up being the 1st guy out of transition and onto the bike course. I got moving, and came to the first intersection. The road veered left, so I followed it, and kept cranking. There was 1 guy behind me who was close to catching me, but I still cranked hard, riding really strong.
It felt really lonely at the front. Almost as if nothing was happening behind me. We kept riding, and hit a turn with some volunteers. We took the left turn and kept riding. Finally, he caught me (bib 898), and shortly after we hit a traffic light, with no volunteers or cops to direct traffic. We had done something wrong. We started talking, and both agreed that we missed something somewhere. We made it back to the turn with the volunteers and asked them. They had no idea. We doubled all the way back, about 16 miles later, and realized that we had taken the first intersection incorrectly. We had gotten out too quickly, and the volunteers hadn't had time to get to the first intersection to direct traffic. Ouch. I was feeling so good. Up to that point I was moving strong and thought I'd be able to place.
Oh well. Might as well get a run in. We took it easy into transition, and the other guy who went the wrong way was yelling and making a huge fuss about it, but whatever. I threw my shoes on and headed off. It was a nice run. I felt pretty good, probably because the pressure was off, and the last half of my ride was somewhat leisurely. Still got a good pace going.
I finished, then went and found the race director and told him I wanted to disqualify myself since I had veered so far off course. He was very understanding, realizing that it was their fault for not having any volunteers on the race course soon enough. He offered to let me race for free in any of their other races that season. I thought that was pretty nice, and pretty fair.
I ended up taking him up on the offer, as I signed up for Whaling City.
It was a no pressure race anyway. Though I would've liked to see if I was going to place. I like to think that I would have.
We got to the course at a decent time, and headed toward registration. The line was very long, and continued to grow even after we got there. Surely they'd have to delay the start, judging by how slowly the line was moving. I finally got to the registration table, and I found that I got a really great race number (and, subsequently, a great bike rack spot). Turns out they put me into the elite wave. I'm not elite, so I started to think it was a mistake. Turns out I got the position because I had done so well in the Whaling City Tri the year before that they automatically put me into the elite wave. Sweet. The elite wave was first, but oddly, it was full of other not-quite-elites. Even some first-timers. Weird. In any case, I was excited to be in the first wave. Felt a little like a celebrity.
The race began quickly enough. The swim start was quick, and I was out and moving, feeling very good. Since it was such a small wave, there wasn't a lot of bumping around with other athletes. I felt strong the entire time, and I think it showed. I was 2nd out of the water. Not too bad. I grabbed my bike quickly and was off and riding. I ended up being the 1st guy out of transition and onto the bike course. I got moving, and came to the first intersection. The road veered left, so I followed it, and kept cranking. There was 1 guy behind me who was close to catching me, but I still cranked hard, riding really strong.
It felt really lonely at the front. Almost as if nothing was happening behind me. We kept riding, and hit a turn with some volunteers. We took the left turn and kept riding. Finally, he caught me (bib 898), and shortly after we hit a traffic light, with no volunteers or cops to direct traffic. We had done something wrong. We started talking, and both agreed that we missed something somewhere. We made it back to the turn with the volunteers and asked them. They had no idea. We doubled all the way back, about 16 miles later, and realized that we had taken the first intersection incorrectly. We had gotten out too quickly, and the volunteers hadn't had time to get to the first intersection to direct traffic. Ouch. I was feeling so good. Up to that point I was moving strong and thought I'd be able to place.
Oh well. Might as well get a run in. We took it easy into transition, and the other guy who went the wrong way was yelling and making a huge fuss about it, but whatever. I threw my shoes on and headed off. It was a nice run. I felt pretty good, probably because the pressure was off, and the last half of my ride was somewhat leisurely. Still got a good pace going.
I finished, then went and found the race director and told him I wanted to disqualify myself since I had veered so far off course. He was very understanding, realizing that it was their fault for not having any volunteers on the race course soon enough. He offered to let me race for free in any of their other races that season. I thought that was pretty nice, and pretty fair.
I ended up taking him up on the offer, as I signed up for Whaling City.
It was a no pressure race anyway. Though I would've liked to see if I was going to place. I like to think that I would have.
Whaling City Tri
I had been thinking about signing up for a triathlon on the weekend of 7/24-7/25. It would be a nice little refresher before the Boston Urban Epic on 8/8. I wasn't sure which one to sign up for, though. I had narrowed it down to two races: NJ State Triathlon and the Whaling City Tri. I was considering heading to NJ so I could do the race with my buddy Colin. He was thinking of signing up for a tri, and the NJ State Tri worked for both of us, geographically.
We let some time go by, and didn't sign up for either one. As the weekend got closer, it seemed less and less likely that Colin would be able to do the NJ tri, so we ditched the NJ idea, and I signed up for Whaling City. Really, this race wasn't very planned. I had been thinking about it for a while, but didn't really commit 'til about a week prior. It took the pressure off a bit. There was no big build to the race. Just another weekend
We got a late start heading down to New Bedford, which is more than an hour from Boston. Not a problem, as long as we don't get lost. We got lost. Rather, I missed a major highway exit near the beginning of the ride down, and we rode for a good 15 minutes before I realized the mistake I had made. oops. We doudbled back, and pushed to get to the site in time.
As is typical when you arrive late to a triathlon, you spend a lot of time in the registration line. They are always under-staffed, and the line slowly grows and grows until it gets so close to race time that everyone panics and rushes through registration, or, if the race director is smart, they push the race start back 10 or 15 minutes. I got through registration, and headed over to transition.
It was hazy and muggy, but there was a good amount of cloud cover. If it's going to be humid, I'm grateful that its not also blisteringly hot. I racked my bike, set up my area, and ran off to the bathroom during the race meeting. I had studied the course a little bit, so I didn't feel that I was missing much. Still, not something I like to do. If anything had changed, they would've announced it at the race meeting.
I decided against a wetsuit. It was warming up, and the humidity was enough to get me sweating, even without the wetsuit on. Plus the water was supposed to be warm. I eyeballed a few other racers; a bunch were going without wetsuits, so I figured I was okay. There was about a 200 yard walk to the swim start, so changing my mind was not an option. I hopped in the water and got a few practice strokes in. The water was nice. I think I made the right decision.
My wave was the 3rd wave, behind the elites and women. I tried to gauge the actual distance of the swim, since no two races ever seem to have the same swim distance. It seemed like more than 1/4 mile, but maybe I'm just no good at eyeballing distances in water. The shape was kinda like a trapezoid: Straight out; 90-degree right turn to the next buoy; then a slight right turn back to land. It was good to see that there were two sea-worthy rescue/police boats monitoring everything, in addition to kayakers. Boats with motors are always a relieving site. Quicker rescue, should anything bad happen to anyone.
The start was on land, but only about 10 feet to the water line. We were packed, and when the gun went off we all sprinted and jumped in. In felt like a really tight pack all the way to the first buoy to turn. There was a big pile up at the buoy. Everyone was hugging the course, so the turns were very tight. At least I was in the thick of the pack, not getting left behind. But lesson learned: take wider turns, its worth it to keep momentum and stay out of the pack.
I tried to focus on my bi-lateral breathing, but was falling into the comfort of breathing to one side. It was tough to break out of that. I turned at the next buoy and was feeling pretty good. Now we had the current and the waves working in our favor, so you could sort of float your strokes and let the current take you a bit. I'm sure there's some technique to be learned (maybe lengthen out with the current, but shorten up against the current?). By the time I got out, I felt like I was at the back of the pack, but I couldn't tell for sure.
I ran at a good pace to my bike. It was an interesting flow, you had to run all the way around transition to enter in the back so that you could come out with your bike at the front. I almost ran right past my rack: They had removed the trash cans that I was using to spot my rack.
I threw my shirt on, which was a little tough, especially with the pre-pinned bib on it. I need a bib belt. I threw my helmet and sunglasses, and ran out with my bike. The transition practice that I did the week before really paid off. I was able to run well with my bike, and got a rolling start, making up what felt like 30 seconds on some people. Getting my feet in wasn't the smoothest, but I was able to do it without any major issues.
The bike course was 3 laps. I got passed by a guy initially, but kept him in my sights. He was good for pacing to make sure I wasn't slowing down. I passed a bunch of people and was feeling good. The course was fairly flat, but some parts were windy. Still, that wasn't enough to keep me from falling into a bit of trance a couple times. I wasn't focusing and was getting too comfortable with my pace. There was a little bit of traffic coming around to the transition area for lap #2. I passed the guy who had initially passed me right around the start of lap 2. He tried to overtake me quickly, but I sped up.
I found myself continually spinning, even into the turns. I think it would make sense to take that time to let my legs relax a bit. Something to think about.
I raced into transition area, and didn't notice many bikes. It felt like I made up some time, but I wasn't sure how I was doing. I hopped off the bike, went smoothly enough. I dumped my bike, threw on the shoes, and got to running. I felt like I had a good pace going. Usually, the first 1000 meters off the bike is the slowest. You have to tell yourself that you'll be able to pick up the pace. You eventually find your legs, and feel better, and you have to make sure that you pick up the pace accordingly. There were some unsturdy planks off the curb right out of transition. It was almost more of a hazard having them there.
I quickly got passed by a guy with the Ironman m-dot tattoo. And then I got passed by a younger girl, but was able to keep up with her for a bit. I dumped some water on my head at mile 1, which gave me a little boost. That short feeling of shock/shortened breath makes your body forget about what it was doing for a second, and you're almost able to reset and start fresh. The girl who had passed me tripped on the sidewalk and almost fell into the water (the sidewalk followed the "shoreline", which was a rock wall about 5 feet down to the water. We joked a little about it, saying that'd be a nice relief: To be in the cool water.
Mile 2 started somewhere in the park, rather than the sidewalk leading up to the park (you're still on the sidewalk, but now you're surrounded by some trees and grass on both sides. I was somewhere in the 14:00s, time-wise, so I was doing alright.
Near the end of mile 2, there's a short out and back on a pier, and then about 250 meters to the end. I knew I was close, but wasn't able to pick it up until after making the turnaround. I felt that I finished strong.
2nd place for my age group, and 38th overall (out of a couple hundred, I think). Not too bad.
I was hot and tired, but was able to recover nicely. We found a place to grab some lunch and a beer, and then called it a day.
We let some time go by, and didn't sign up for either one. As the weekend got closer, it seemed less and less likely that Colin would be able to do the NJ tri, so we ditched the NJ idea, and I signed up for Whaling City. Really, this race wasn't very planned. I had been thinking about it for a while, but didn't really commit 'til about a week prior. It took the pressure off a bit. There was no big build to the race. Just another weekend
We got a late start heading down to New Bedford, which is more than an hour from Boston. Not a problem, as long as we don't get lost. We got lost. Rather, I missed a major highway exit near the beginning of the ride down, and we rode for a good 15 minutes before I realized the mistake I had made. oops. We doudbled back, and pushed to get to the site in time.
As is typical when you arrive late to a triathlon, you spend a lot of time in the registration line. They are always under-staffed, and the line slowly grows and grows until it gets so close to race time that everyone panics and rushes through registration, or, if the race director is smart, they push the race start back 10 or 15 minutes. I got through registration, and headed over to transition.
It was hazy and muggy, but there was a good amount of cloud cover. If it's going to be humid, I'm grateful that its not also blisteringly hot. I racked my bike, set up my area, and ran off to the bathroom during the race meeting. I had studied the course a little bit, so I didn't feel that I was missing much. Still, not something I like to do. If anything had changed, they would've announced it at the race meeting.
I decided against a wetsuit. It was warming up, and the humidity was enough to get me sweating, even without the wetsuit on. Plus the water was supposed to be warm. I eyeballed a few other racers; a bunch were going without wetsuits, so I figured I was okay. There was about a 200 yard walk to the swim start, so changing my mind was not an option. I hopped in the water and got a few practice strokes in. The water was nice. I think I made the right decision.
My wave was the 3rd wave, behind the elites and women. I tried to gauge the actual distance of the swim, since no two races ever seem to have the same swim distance. It seemed like more than 1/4 mile, but maybe I'm just no good at eyeballing distances in water. The shape was kinda like a trapezoid: Straight out; 90-degree right turn to the next buoy; then a slight right turn back to land. It was good to see that there were two sea-worthy rescue/police boats monitoring everything, in addition to kayakers. Boats with motors are always a relieving site. Quicker rescue, should anything bad happen to anyone.
The start was on land, but only about 10 feet to the water line. We were packed, and when the gun went off we all sprinted and jumped in. In felt like a really tight pack all the way to the first buoy to turn. There was a big pile up at the buoy. Everyone was hugging the course, so the turns were very tight. At least I was in the thick of the pack, not getting left behind. But lesson learned: take wider turns, its worth it to keep momentum and stay out of the pack.
I tried to focus on my bi-lateral breathing, but was falling into the comfort of breathing to one side. It was tough to break out of that. I turned at the next buoy and was feeling pretty good. Now we had the current and the waves working in our favor, so you could sort of float your strokes and let the current take you a bit. I'm sure there's some technique to be learned (maybe lengthen out with the current, but shorten up against the current?). By the time I got out, I felt like I was at the back of the pack, but I couldn't tell for sure.
I ran at a good pace to my bike. It was an interesting flow, you had to run all the way around transition to enter in the back so that you could come out with your bike at the front. I almost ran right past my rack: They had removed the trash cans that I was using to spot my rack.
I threw my shirt on, which was a little tough, especially with the pre-pinned bib on it. I need a bib belt. I threw my helmet and sunglasses, and ran out with my bike. The transition practice that I did the week before really paid off. I was able to run well with my bike, and got a rolling start, making up what felt like 30 seconds on some people. Getting my feet in wasn't the smoothest, but I was able to do it without any major issues.
The bike course was 3 laps. I got passed by a guy initially, but kept him in my sights. He was good for pacing to make sure I wasn't slowing down. I passed a bunch of people and was feeling good. The course was fairly flat, but some parts were windy. Still, that wasn't enough to keep me from falling into a bit of trance a couple times. I wasn't focusing and was getting too comfortable with my pace. There was a little bit of traffic coming around to the transition area for lap #2. I passed the guy who had initially passed me right around the start of lap 2. He tried to overtake me quickly, but I sped up.
I found myself continually spinning, even into the turns. I think it would make sense to take that time to let my legs relax a bit. Something to think about.
I raced into transition area, and didn't notice many bikes. It felt like I made up some time, but I wasn't sure how I was doing. I hopped off the bike, went smoothly enough. I dumped my bike, threw on the shoes, and got to running. I felt like I had a good pace going. Usually, the first 1000 meters off the bike is the slowest. You have to tell yourself that you'll be able to pick up the pace. You eventually find your legs, and feel better, and you have to make sure that you pick up the pace accordingly. There were some unsturdy planks off the curb right out of transition. It was almost more of a hazard having them there.
I quickly got passed by a guy with the Ironman m-dot tattoo. And then I got passed by a younger girl, but was able to keep up with her for a bit. I dumped some water on my head at mile 1, which gave me a little boost. That short feeling of shock/shortened breath makes your body forget about what it was doing for a second, and you're almost able to reset and start fresh. The girl who had passed me tripped on the sidewalk and almost fell into the water (the sidewalk followed the "shoreline", which was a rock wall about 5 feet down to the water. We joked a little about it, saying that'd be a nice relief: To be in the cool water.
Mile 2 started somewhere in the park, rather than the sidewalk leading up to the park (you're still on the sidewalk, but now you're surrounded by some trees and grass on both sides. I was somewhere in the 14:00s, time-wise, so I was doing alright.
Near the end of mile 2, there's a short out and back on a pier, and then about 250 meters to the end. I knew I was close, but wasn't able to pick it up until after making the turnaround. I felt that I finished strong.
2nd place for my age group, and 38th overall (out of a couple hundred, I think). Not too bad.
I was hot and tired, but was able to recover nicely. We found a place to grab some lunch and a beer, and then called it a day.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Hyannis Sprint Tri
It wasn't a tough week, but I wasn't feeling 100% by the time Friday night rolled around. My taper was okay (I don't think I train hard enough to really warrant a full taper, especially a sprint triathlon), but it was messed up a little bit by the previous weekend, which was Labor Day weekend. We had driven to a friend's place for a Labor Day Weekend party, so I was a little limited in my ability to do the workouts I wanted to do. I still managed to get a nice long ride in, but it was definitely not a good weekend for training. Beer and smoked meats in Vermont don't make for good training.
Prior to race day, I decided that I was going to switch up my game plan and focus on cheering people on and thanking volunteers as I raced. I wanted to see what sort of effect it had if I could make myself focus on other people during race, instead of myself.
We arrived in Hyannis on Friday night. It was about a 1.5 hour drive after work, and we checked into the hotel and got situated. No real chance to get a light workout in. It was late, getting dark, and we still hadn't eaten dinner yet. I figured I'd forget about the pre-race workout. It was a bit of a late dinner, and I think I had a beer. I was still very awake, and felt like it would help to calm me down and let me get ready to get some sleep.
We were up and out the door around 5:50am. It was a quick 15 minute drive, and I was feeling pretty awake as we arrived. At first scan, the event seemed a little disorganized. There didn't seem to be any official wave times and the packet pick-up was a little slow. Looking back, it certainly wasn't a big deal. It was a small race, and who cares if things are run a little slowly, right? Though, I think most athletes are running on nerves, so they are probably trying to get through all of the administrative stuff so that they can get ready for the race. Body marking wasn't set up by the time I got to transition; like I said, a little disorganized, but nothing catastrophic.
The race had a 7:30am start time. Turned out getting there 1.5 hours early still wasn't enough time. I felt rushed trying to get the lay of the land, get bodymarked, go the bathroom and set up transition. Seems like plenty of time, but I guess not.
I threw on the wetsuit, and headed to the beach. At this point, I was hoping that the bike route would be pretty straightforward. I hadn't scoped it out at all prior to the race, so I was a little nervous. Typically, I make it a point to look at the bike course just to get a feel for what's in store.
I went for a quick pre-race swim to get some of the nerves out. The water was warm and it felt good to release some energy before the race. Now it was just a waiting game before the race started. I jogged about 100 yards to keep warm. I still had quite a bit of energy, and wanted to burn some of it off before the start.
The start was delayed by about 15 minutes as they finalized everything. Some of the race announcements couldn't be heard because all they had was a megaphone which faded in the wind on the beach. One of the announcements I did hear was a brief moment of silence for the victims of 9/11. Oh, right, the race was on 9/11, so they found it appropriate to pay tribute. It was nice, but unfortunately not everyone could hear the announcer so they continued talking during the moment of silence. It was a shame.
I eyed up the race course. It looked like it'd actually be .25 miles. Some race directors don't always get the swim distances right. They claim .25 miles, or .5 miles, but there's no way that they're always accurate. My swim times are way too varied for what are supposed to be identical distances. This one, however, looked like it'd be accurate. It was going to be a quick swim.
The first two waves started the race, then it was our turn to hop into the corral. I made my way to the front. I'm not sure why I like to be in the front of the race for the swim. I'm not the strongest swimmer, so I should probably hang back, but I just like being in the front, not cramped by other people. We got a 20 second countdown and then the horn sounded. We were off.
It was a land start, so a quick sprint led us to the water, and we dove in. I was moving good and out in front for a few strokes. I was feeling good, and was able to keep my breathing on both sides for a while. I was able to sight pretty well: The course was a short trapezoid and the buoys were close together. My first turn was pretty wide, but I got back on course quickly enough.
It wasn't long before I devolved back to single-side breathing. It's been very tough for me to stay bi-lateral for the entire swim course. I tried to get back into a rhythm, but ended up doing single-sided breathing pretty much for the rest of the swim.
I jumped out of the water, did a few high-kneed strides and I was up on the beach. I was feeling pretty winded, but tried to keep a good pace into transition. Got the wetsuit off, and headed for the common-use kiddie pool. I got tied up with another athlete, but was able to keep heading over to my bike quickly enough.
I was flustered and needed to slow down a bit to get my wetsuit off. I think there's a very unique talent in being able to switch gears from fast and frenzied during the swim, to calm and collected for transition. Transition is certainly an area where moving too fast is detrimental. Controlling rhythm during a race is very important.
I ran at a good speed to bike mount, which was a good 50 yards through transition barefoot on concrete. You can't really feel much at this point since you're so focused on the race, so it's not really much of a problem. I hadn't been practicing my transitions for a while, and even though it's such a minor thing, if you're not comfortable, you can pay the price. I hopped onto the bike and struggled to get my feet into position. In the process, one of my shoes came off, and I had to double back to put the shoe in, clip in and start moving. In all, it probably only added a few seconds, but it definitely throws you out of your rhythm.
I'm always breathing hard, a little disoriented and a little tired after the swim, but I got moving on the bike, hoping that I'd clear up soon enough. The course was pretty nice: quaint back-roads, shaded nicely by the trees lining the streets, and a good mix of very light hills. Just enough to get you working a little bit, but nothing too tough. The whole ride flew by pretty quickly. There were some sharp turns, and a little bit of traffic. I remember having to cross the double-yellow lines into the oncoming traffic lane to get around some people. I ended up passing a bunch of people. I was surprised at how many people were in the waves in front of me.
I need to do some tuning up of my bike, because I was shifting a little too much, mostly because my bike is a bit unreliable when it comes to shifting. Sometimes it takes two clicks to get the chain to jump into the next gear. I'm used to it, and am generally prepared for that to happen, but it's not something that I should be complacent with. Gotta fix that bike.
Near the end of the bike loop, a guy with a pointy helmet and aerobars passed me. He had tried to pass my right at the beginning of the bike loop, but I motored ahead and didn't let him pass. I guess he was just biding his time, because he made a nice move and went right by me.
I got to one turn that was coned off (because it was a big enough intersection that they couldnt close it to traffic). so it was a 3 ft wide lane that might cause you to get stuck behind people. I got stuck.
I thought maybe it was close to the dismount, so I held back. I got stuck for a few seconds behind some people, and realized that there was still some distance to go before the dismount. It killed my momentum, but it gave me time to relax and build up some energy. Try to see the bright side :)
I kept going and made it the dismount. More sloppiness. I un-velcroed my shoes, and in wiggling my foot out. lost an insole. Otherwise, I made a successful dismount, and booked it to my spot. Not wuite. Apparently the entire shoe came off when I jumped off my bike, becuase a volunteer brought it to me at transition and said, "You'll be looking for this later". I think I thanked them. I was very grateful, because I had no idea that the shoe had fallen off.
I grabbed my starburst, had it unwrapped and in my mouth before the exit/water area. I grabbed some water, took a sip, dumped it on my head and headed out for the run. I was moving at a decent pace, or so it felt. I did end up slowing down a bit, but the nice back roads and shaded course made for a somewhat enjoyable run. I got passed by a few people, including a really young kid. Very impressive to see a kid that young kicking so much ass. I really had no idea what athletics and sports really were all about when I was his age.
I hit mile 1 at 7:20. not bad. I kept moving, and felt that I slowed down even more in mile 2. Finally got to Mile 2 around 14:55. Still not too shabby. Mid- to low-7s is decent after a swim and a ride. Somewhere between mile 2 and 3, I unwrapped a 2nd starburst. hit the water station and got a sip and dumped it on my head. I need to make that part of my strategy for every water station. Water on the head is a great thing.
The whole time I was cheering on competitors and thanking volunteers. It was enough to get my mind out of thinking about the pain (pain...did you feel pain during the run? Were you killing yourself?). I thought I was pushing myself a bit, then again, I think I had a little bit extra left in the tank.
I think the cheering worked. It broke up the monotony. And it gives you a boost when you talk to people. I need that on the run. Less so on the bike.
I hit mile 3 and realized that I had held back too much. I didnt look at my watch, but didnt pick it up for some reason. Some people passed me...people I couldve kept up with, but I didnt keep pace. I was very focused on making sure I could keep getting good deep breaths. I was having shortness of breath a little bit, but at this intensity, was able to get some good deep breaths in. Stupid mild asthma.
I got very close to the end, and picked it up a little. The finish was on the sand, which makes the final 20 yards interesting. I hit the sand and bolted 10 yards to the finish, beating a guy who was trying to come up behind me and overtake me in the last few yards. I really got an adrenalin jolt from that, and realized that I had a lot of energy I could've exploded with. I need to focus on picking it up on the run. Maybe pace better for the majority of the run, and then really drive on the last half mile.
Terri and Gavin had made the trip to watch me race. Gavin, of course, couldn't help but make fun of some of the athletes he saw while the race was going on. In particular, one of the guys racing was foaming at the mouth during his run.
I had a light headache in the following hours, but might have been due to lack of caffeine (and maybe some dehydration type effects). Though, to be honest, I am always a little secretly pleased when I feel a little shitty after a race. It means that I did push myself.
Focus is definitely key. I forget most of the bike and run, which means I wasn't focused. I can remember parts of it, but not the whole thing. I should take a more active approach to
the runs and rides. Being conscious of what's happening at all times is surely good practice
Can you remember all the details of your race?
Some notes:
I ran in my less-supportive shoes. I got blisters on left arch.
My knees felt a little more painful after (mightve been the sandals after the race). In general, the run went well, though.
I was tired, half-sick the night before. wasn't totally looking forward to the race. but once I was up and there, it came back. I need to talk to people more before the race; not just stand in silence.
I still get a little intimidated at the races. I know I'm well-prepared, but I can't help but get a little anxious looking around at the other athletes?
Post-race, I hydrated, ate, cleaned up. checked results. felt pretty good. made sure not to have a repeat of the Boston Urban Epic. I think the short swim helped set the pace for the rest of the race.
I tensed up on the bike a little in the chest/lats. Thought it might be a problem on the run. So I tried to stay out of the drops for most of the ride. I think it helped.
I felt my toes numbing up on the bike.
Prior to race day, I decided that I was going to switch up my game plan and focus on cheering people on and thanking volunteers as I raced. I wanted to see what sort of effect it had if I could make myself focus on other people during race, instead of myself.
We arrived in Hyannis on Friday night. It was about a 1.5 hour drive after work, and we checked into the hotel and got situated. No real chance to get a light workout in. It was late, getting dark, and we still hadn't eaten dinner yet. I figured I'd forget about the pre-race workout. It was a bit of a late dinner, and I think I had a beer. I was still very awake, and felt like it would help to calm me down and let me get ready to get some sleep.
We were up and out the door around 5:50am. It was a quick 15 minute drive, and I was feeling pretty awake as we arrived. At first scan, the event seemed a little disorganized. There didn't seem to be any official wave times and the packet pick-up was a little slow. Looking back, it certainly wasn't a big deal. It was a small race, and who cares if things are run a little slowly, right? Though, I think most athletes are running on nerves, so they are probably trying to get through all of the administrative stuff so that they can get ready for the race. Body marking wasn't set up by the time I got to transition; like I said, a little disorganized, but nothing catastrophic.
The race had a 7:30am start time. Turned out getting there 1.5 hours early still wasn't enough time. I felt rushed trying to get the lay of the land, get bodymarked, go the bathroom and set up transition. Seems like plenty of time, but I guess not.
I threw on the wetsuit, and headed to the beach. At this point, I was hoping that the bike route would be pretty straightforward. I hadn't scoped it out at all prior to the race, so I was a little nervous. Typically, I make it a point to look at the bike course just to get a feel for what's in store.
I went for a quick pre-race swim to get some of the nerves out. The water was warm and it felt good to release some energy before the race. Now it was just a waiting game before the race started. I jogged about 100 yards to keep warm. I still had quite a bit of energy, and wanted to burn some of it off before the start.
The start was delayed by about 15 minutes as they finalized everything. Some of the race announcements couldn't be heard because all they had was a megaphone which faded in the wind on the beach. One of the announcements I did hear was a brief moment of silence for the victims of 9/11. Oh, right, the race was on 9/11, so they found it appropriate to pay tribute. It was nice, but unfortunately not everyone could hear the announcer so they continued talking during the moment of silence. It was a shame.
I eyed up the race course. It looked like it'd actually be .25 miles. Some race directors don't always get the swim distances right. They claim .25 miles, or .5 miles, but there's no way that they're always accurate. My swim times are way too varied for what are supposed to be identical distances. This one, however, looked like it'd be accurate. It was going to be a quick swim.
The first two waves started the race, then it was our turn to hop into the corral. I made my way to the front. I'm not sure why I like to be in the front of the race for the swim. I'm not the strongest swimmer, so I should probably hang back, but I just like being in the front, not cramped by other people. We got a 20 second countdown and then the horn sounded. We were off.
It was a land start, so a quick sprint led us to the water, and we dove in. I was moving good and out in front for a few strokes. I was feeling good, and was able to keep my breathing on both sides for a while. I was able to sight pretty well: The course was a short trapezoid and the buoys were close together. My first turn was pretty wide, but I got back on course quickly enough.
It wasn't long before I devolved back to single-side breathing. It's been very tough for me to stay bi-lateral for the entire swim course. I tried to get back into a rhythm, but ended up doing single-sided breathing pretty much for the rest of the swim.
I jumped out of the water, did a few high-kneed strides and I was up on the beach. I was feeling pretty winded, but tried to keep a good pace into transition. Got the wetsuit off, and headed for the common-use kiddie pool. I got tied up with another athlete, but was able to keep heading over to my bike quickly enough.
I was flustered and needed to slow down a bit to get my wetsuit off. I think there's a very unique talent in being able to switch gears from fast and frenzied during the swim, to calm and collected for transition. Transition is certainly an area where moving too fast is detrimental. Controlling rhythm during a race is very important.
I ran at a good speed to bike mount, which was a good 50 yards through transition barefoot on concrete. You can't really feel much at this point since you're so focused on the race, so it's not really much of a problem. I hadn't been practicing my transitions for a while, and even though it's such a minor thing, if you're not comfortable, you can pay the price. I hopped onto the bike and struggled to get my feet into position. In the process, one of my shoes came off, and I had to double back to put the shoe in, clip in and start moving. In all, it probably only added a few seconds, but it definitely throws you out of your rhythm.
I'm always breathing hard, a little disoriented and a little tired after the swim, but I got moving on the bike, hoping that I'd clear up soon enough. The course was pretty nice: quaint back-roads, shaded nicely by the trees lining the streets, and a good mix of very light hills. Just enough to get you working a little bit, but nothing too tough. The whole ride flew by pretty quickly. There were some sharp turns, and a little bit of traffic. I remember having to cross the double-yellow lines into the oncoming traffic lane to get around some people. I ended up passing a bunch of people. I was surprised at how many people were in the waves in front of me.
I need to do some tuning up of my bike, because I was shifting a little too much, mostly because my bike is a bit unreliable when it comes to shifting. Sometimes it takes two clicks to get the chain to jump into the next gear. I'm used to it, and am generally prepared for that to happen, but it's not something that I should be complacent with. Gotta fix that bike.
Near the end of the bike loop, a guy with a pointy helmet and aerobars passed me. He had tried to pass my right at the beginning of the bike loop, but I motored ahead and didn't let him pass. I guess he was just biding his time, because he made a nice move and went right by me.
I got to one turn that was coned off (because it was a big enough intersection that they couldnt close it to traffic). so it was a 3 ft wide lane that might cause you to get stuck behind people. I got stuck.
I thought maybe it was close to the dismount, so I held back. I got stuck for a few seconds behind some people, and realized that there was still some distance to go before the dismount. It killed my momentum, but it gave me time to relax and build up some energy. Try to see the bright side :)
I kept going and made it the dismount. More sloppiness. I un-velcroed my shoes, and in wiggling my foot out. lost an insole. Otherwise, I made a successful dismount, and booked it to my spot. Not wuite. Apparently the entire shoe came off when I jumped off my bike, becuase a volunteer brought it to me at transition and said, "You'll be looking for this later". I think I thanked them. I was very grateful, because I had no idea that the shoe had fallen off.
I grabbed my starburst, had it unwrapped and in my mouth before the exit/water area. I grabbed some water, took a sip, dumped it on my head and headed out for the run. I was moving at a decent pace, or so it felt. I did end up slowing down a bit, but the nice back roads and shaded course made for a somewhat enjoyable run. I got passed by a few people, including a really young kid. Very impressive to see a kid that young kicking so much ass. I really had no idea what athletics and sports really were all about when I was his age.
I hit mile 1 at 7:20. not bad. I kept moving, and felt that I slowed down even more in mile 2. Finally got to Mile 2 around 14:55. Still not too shabby. Mid- to low-7s is decent after a swim and a ride. Somewhere between mile 2 and 3, I unwrapped a 2nd starburst. hit the water station and got a sip and dumped it on my head. I need to make that part of my strategy for every water station. Water on the head is a great thing.
The whole time I was cheering on competitors and thanking volunteers. It was enough to get my mind out of thinking about the pain (pain...did you feel pain during the run? Were you killing yourself?). I thought I was pushing myself a bit, then again, I think I had a little bit extra left in the tank.
I think the cheering worked. It broke up the monotony. And it gives you a boost when you talk to people. I need that on the run. Less so on the bike.
I hit mile 3 and realized that I had held back too much. I didnt look at my watch, but didnt pick it up for some reason. Some people passed me...people I couldve kept up with, but I didnt keep pace. I was very focused on making sure I could keep getting good deep breaths. I was having shortness of breath a little bit, but at this intensity, was able to get some good deep breaths in. Stupid mild asthma.
I got very close to the end, and picked it up a little. The finish was on the sand, which makes the final 20 yards interesting. I hit the sand and bolted 10 yards to the finish, beating a guy who was trying to come up behind me and overtake me in the last few yards. I really got an adrenalin jolt from that, and realized that I had a lot of energy I could've exploded with. I need to focus on picking it up on the run. Maybe pace better for the majority of the run, and then really drive on the last half mile.
Terri and Gavin had made the trip to watch me race. Gavin, of course, couldn't help but make fun of some of the athletes he saw while the race was going on. In particular, one of the guys racing was foaming at the mouth during his run.
I had a light headache in the following hours, but might have been due to lack of caffeine (and maybe some dehydration type effects). Though, to be honest, I am always a little secretly pleased when I feel a little shitty after a race. It means that I did push myself.
Focus is definitely key. I forget most of the bike and run, which means I wasn't focused. I can remember parts of it, but not the whole thing. I should take a more active approach to
the runs and rides. Being conscious of what's happening at all times is surely good practice
Can you remember all the details of your race?
Some notes:
I ran in my less-supportive shoes. I got blisters on left arch.
My knees felt a little more painful after (mightve been the sandals after the race). In general, the run went well, though.
I was tired, half-sick the night before. wasn't totally looking forward to the race. but once I was up and there, it came back. I need to talk to people more before the race; not just stand in silence.
I still get a little intimidated at the races. I know I'm well-prepared, but I can't help but get a little anxious looking around at the other athletes?
Post-race, I hydrated, ate, cleaned up. checked results. felt pretty good. made sure not to have a repeat of the Boston Urban Epic. I think the short swim helped set the pace for the rest of the race.
I tensed up on the bike a little in the chest/lats. Thought it might be a problem on the run. So I tried to stay out of the drops for most of the ride. I think it helped.
I felt my toes numbing up on the bike.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Ironman Pocono Mountains 70.3
A mere 366 days since signing up, and Ironman Pocono Mountains 70.3 had arrived.
Well, not quite.
The almost-record-breaking rainy months of August and September had left Stroudsburg Pennsylvania highly saturated, making the behavior of the Delaware River quite volatile. The days leading up to the race were proving to be equally as wet, rocketing the height of the river up almost 10 feet in a short amount of time. The currents became faster, and the amount of debris floating down the river increased.
Plus, it was a nasty shade of brown.
The race directors and National Park Service "jointly decided to cancel the swim", which made the overall distance of the race 69.1 miles. The 1.2 mile swim was no more. For those keeping track, that turned the race into a 56 mile bike, and a 13.1 mile run.
They cancelled the swim a couple of days in advance, so it gave the athletes plenty of time to process the news and release any frustration before race day. We (my buddy Colin and I) were bummed, but still very much wanted to race. We headed over to the event expo to register and pick up our race packets. The packet contained all of the things we'd need to be official participants in the race: race bib, race numbers for the bike and helmet, timing chip, etc. Additionally, we would have to check in our racing gear the day before the race. This was something that was new to us.
Typically, a triathlon will have a single 'transition area' which, after each leg of the race, the athlete will return to: swim; grab bike from transition area; ride; grab shoes from transition area; run; finish. The finish is also usually very close to the transition area. It's very convenient. Everything is in one spot.
However, the geography of Stroudsburg and surrounding areas pretty much dictated that the transition areas be in separate spots. The swim-to-bike transition (T1) was 8 miles from the bike-to-run transition (T2), which was 1 mile from the finish line. Logistically, it's a pain in the ass. Which is why the athletes needed to hustle around the day before the race to check in all of their gear.
We checked in all of our gear, which gave us an opportunity to scope out some of the race course. The road we drove down to get to the T1 would be the same road we'd have to ride up during the bike portion.
We got a little worried.
The road had some pretty intimidating hills. They weren't the worst we had ever seen, but they were going to be challenging. They were near the beginning of the bike course, so they'd really play a part in setting the tone for the rest of the ride.
We returned to the hotel, and got ready for a 4:30am wake up. Not surprisingly, we were both up at 4:15am; no alarm needed. We grabbed our gear and headed to T2 to grab a shuttle (read: big yellow school bus) to T1. The geography of the area wouldn't allow for all athletes to drive down to T1: There simply wasn't enough room. As a result, athletes had to be shuttled to T1.
It was a quiet 30 minute ride to T1. Almost quiet. While most athletes were silently sitting, thinking about the race, one woman was chatting away to a complete stranger about anything and everything she could think about. I think it was nerves; she must've had a lot of nervous energy and that's how she was calming herself down.
We arrived at T1 at 5:45am. To the bathroom! Invariably, there are never enough port-a-potties available at these races, so it's always a good idea to get in line early: by the time you get to the front of the line, you'll have to go to the bathroom.
We headed into T1, and finished setting up our gear (load up the water bottles, pump up the tires, eat some food, eye up the competition). Now we had some time to kill. We wandered over to what would've been the swim exit to take a look at the river. It was still high, and it was still moving fast. There was no way that anyone would be able to swim against the current (which is what part of the swim course required). We hated to admit it, but cancelling the swim was the absolute correct decision. We moseyed back up to T1 and looked at our watches. We had some more time to kill.
To the bathroom!
Better to wait in line early than not have enough time to go to the bathroom when it really matters.
It wasn't long before the pros were called to the starting line to begin the race. The race directors decided to make the beginning of the race a Time Trial start. That simply means that athletes would cross the start line one at a time, at a specific time interval. The interval for the pros would be 30 seconds. The interval for everyone else would be 3 seconds. So every 3 seconds, another athlete is beginning the race. Race number would determine order. I was 398 and Colin was 1944, so we weren't going to start anywhere near each other, and we most likely wouldn't see each other on the bike course.
I unracked my bike, and awaited my turn to cross the starting line. "Ready. Set. Go. Ready. Set. Go. Ready. Set. Go". The race director said over and over and over as the athletes in front of me crossed the line and headed out on the course. Finally, I was the person to whom he was saying, "Ready. Set. Go". I ran across the timing mat with my bike towards the bike mount line, roughly 20 yards away. I crossed the mount line, hopped on my bike, and got moving.
I was ready.
It was a quick left turn out of the park area onto the first main road. I was moving at a good pace, and was feeling strong. I decided to push it a little bit to get out of the congestion that comes when 398 people are on the course, spread out by only 15 minutes.
I reached the first turnaround, and there was still a lot of congestion. The road was narrow, making the 180 degree turn even tougher. The roads were in decent shape. They were wet, but they were smooth and not too filled with debris. I hit the 5 mile mark and looked down at my watch: 14:28. I thought something was wrong. That was too fast. But then I realized that I was probably averaging a little above 20mph, and the math made sense. I just didn't think I was going that fast.
I hit the first challenging hill. Some people were off their bikes, walking up it. Wow, already claiming casualties. I was surprised. It was a tough little hill, but it wasn't the one that I had made a mental note of when we were driving down the day before. It wasn't long before I arrived at the foot of the climb. It was steeper and longer than the first one. This was it; the badass hill that we were worried about. I dropped into a lower gear and start chugging along. It was tough, but it was early enough in the race that my legs were fresh, so I was able to crest the top pretty quickly. I was out of breath, but feeling strong. I cranked back into a higher gear and was off again.
The course took a sharp left onto Hidden Lake Road (I never found the lake, it's pretty hidden I guess), which was slightly more gravelly than desired. It seemed freshly paved, but more resembled one of those black rubber gravel tracks. I think it was an emergency paving job to get it into a good enough state to ride on.
The next 15 or so miles were pretty uneventful. I rode strong, passed some people, got passed by some people, and generally felt good. I had an energy bar around mile 15, as I had planned, and gulped down gatorade when I got the chance. It seemed that every time I took my water bottle out of the cage, another small hill appeared in front of me. I had to scramble to get it back in the cage so I could focus on the hill.
There was some great scenery along the way, along with some not-so-great road conditions. Rustic barns and potholed roads made for an interesting middle-course ride. It was at about this point that the course took on an interesting characteristic: several very fast descents followed quickly by quick, unexpected turns. If there had only been one, I wouldn't have thought anything of it, but it happened 3 separate times, which led me to believe that the course designer may or may not have done it on purpose. I was equally aggravated but appreciative. Sure, I would've liked to coast for as long as gravity would allow, but I like that there was never an opportunity to slack off for too long. This course was all business. And poo. Around mile 33 there was a nice steaming pile on the road. Most likely not from a fellow competitor. I guess you never know, though.
I was getting into a stride through miles 30-40, and then, as I should've expected, the course hit me (and all of us) with a nice surprise climb. It was a short, but fairly steep hill that seemed to come out of nowhere, so there was no way to cheat and let momentum help you up the hill. It was right around Mile 42, which, as far as I can tell, is about where the mythical "wall" is hit for athletes on a 56-mile course. It was that point where you are beginning to tire and are hoping that the remaining 14 miles will be an easy ride. I was slowed to a very very slow pace. I was not pleased with myself
It was in the middle of that hill that an old rowing teammate passed me. Until earlier that morning, I had no idea that he was in the race. I thought I had seen someone at the expo the day before that looked like him, but passed it off as my brain playing tricks on me. It wasn't until I noticed him in the transition area that I was fairly certain that it was him. And even then, I wasn't 100% sure. Plus, I was trying to focus on the impending race start, so I was trying not to distract myself.
But as he passed me, I could tell it was definitely my old buddy Matt. I motored up the hill and caught up to him to chat with him briefly. We talked a bit about our racing schedules (he had done a couple Ironmans and was planning on doing Lake Placid), and a little of our old rowing days, and then it was back to business. He took off again, but I was determined to stick with him for as long as I could. After all, it had taken him 42 miles to catch me (he started a few minutes behind me), so we were somewhat evenly paced. He pulled far ahead, and I was able to make up some ground, but then he pulled ahead some more and just kept going. He was moving.
That brief encounter gave me a little bit of energy, and I was able to hammer it for the next 8 or so miles. There was a nice tough uphill which I was able to get up to hit the 50 mile marker at around 2:37. I was happy with that. 6 more miles at a hopeful 3 minutes/mile and I'd be at T2 in under 3 hours.
I made some final turns in the town of Stroudsburg where some crowds had gathered so I knew I was getting close. I started to recognize the area, and before I knew it, I was heading into T2. I actually got there around 2:49, so either the 50-mile marker was incorrect, it wasn't a full 56 mile course, or I'm just a freaking beast. I doubt it's the last one.
I dismounted and headed into the transition area. Definitely got a little choked up. Not sure why, but was just feeling really good, and was so grateful for all of the volunteers that were there to donate their time to make sure things went well for us.
I racked my bike, threw my sneakers on, grabbed some energy, and then just stood there for a second. Was it time to go? Yea, I guess it was. I ran out...but then quickly doubled back to grab some water. I knew I needed it. I felt a little cramped running out of transition, but overall was feeling pretty strong...surprisingly strong. Made a few quick turns out of the track area and through the parking lot, where I ran past Maggie and Eileen. They cheered me on, and asked how I felt, to which I responded "not feeling like running 13 miles", but I said it with a smile and was feeling really good. In all honesty, at that point, I was looking forward to the next 13 miles.
I made my way to Main St. in Stroudsburg and got energized by the groups of people that had gathered. I turned left onto a side street to follow the course, and almost ran into Colin's parents. They were making their way to Main St. to find a good viewing spot, and I just happened to see them. Such good people, it was a big boost to see them and say a few words.
Some more running to the first aid station where they were all dressed in pink. I guess they wanted to have a theme. Some costumes, a tutu, a cape, a helmet...all pink. I think I took some water, but can't remember exactly. I must've. I wouldn't pass up an opportunity for water.
I headed up a slight incline, and started cramping up in my hamstring. I thought I could stride it out, but it didn't go away, so I decided to reach down and see if I could massage it while still running. That was a mistake. As soon as I touched my hamstring, it scrunched into a ball and I was in full cramp mode. I had to stop running to stretch it out. Someone asked if I was okay. "Yea, just cramps".
I got going again, having only lost about 30 seconds. I hit mile 2 under 17:00, so even with the stop, I was moving at a decent pace. I got to the next aid station, where they...had....bananas! Just what I needed to prevent cramping. Actually, I'm not certain that potassium after the fact helps, but I was going to as many bananas as I could. Help is on the way, boys!
I got into a good stride again, but some guys were passing me. They were trucking. The professional men were making their way back already. wow. I yelled out at them, but I doubt they needed the inspiration
At around Mile 4, there was a decent uphill. My legs started to get more and more cramped. Now it was both hamstrings and my quads as well. Near the top of the hill, it got so bad that I had to stop. I tried to stretch out my quad, which was a terrible idea. My hamstring tightened right up and I was frozen. The cramps prevented me from moving my legs in either direction. I was able to scuttle over to a downed tree branch to sit on it. I tried to massage my legs, but it didn't seem to be helping. Some motorcycle cops stopped and asked how I was doing. I told them I was fine and that I just had cramps. A woman ran by at right then and yelled out, "ya gotta walk it out". So I tried to get up to walk it out. Maybe it was the break, maybe it was the bananas, but my legs started to feel better. I walked a bit, and then quickly got to running again. There was a bit of a downhill, so I could move a little more freely. I had clearly lost some time. I got to the 5 mile marker at around 45:00, so I was now averaging 9 minute miles. Mile 6.5 was supposed to be the turnaround, and I could feel that I was getting closer. I hit another aid station and grabbed some water, some gatorade, and of course, a banana.
I reached Mile 6, and my old rowing buddy hadn't yet passed me. He really wasn't that far ahead. The aid station people said that there was still about a mile to go, so maybe the turnaround wasn't as close as I had thought. Finally, we crossed paths and gave each other some encouragement. He looked pretty strong. I think I looked alright.
I reached the turnaround at around 1:01:30, which put me under 9:00/mile pace. I was feeling strong and was more than halfway home. The trip back was strong, but uneventful. I was a little slow up the hills, but still felt good. I grabbed some water, soda and bananas to keep me going.
I passed by Colin around mile 8.5. He looked good. We slapped hands amid the crowd of runners. The guy in front of him thought that I was trying to slap his hand. weird.
I got to mile 10, and just started thinking about beer. I just wanted a beer. That's all. I wanted to sit at the bar, and drink a beer. I knew I only had a 5k to run. A run around the river in Boston. I'd done that run a million times. I was there. And as I got out of my beer haze, I hit mile 11. I was golden. Some pesky uphills got me out of breath, but my cramps were gone, and I was feeling good.
Around mile 11, there were some guys that must've read my mind, they had a table full of beer. Oh, but it was Rolling Rock. boo. I asked if they had any Yuengling, but no luck. I ran on.
I was starting to recognize the area as very close to Main St. I passed by the pink station again, and I knew I was home free. I felt really strong for the final two miles. The fact that I had ridden 56 miles and run 11 seemed to have 0 effect on me. I just felt like I was out for a nice 2 mile run.
A few quick turns, and then I was on Main St. It was a long chute to the finish, but there were so many people there, it was amazing. I happened to be the only person running down the street at that point in time, so there was no mistake that those people were cheering for me. And I couldn't help but get choked up. I know they hadn't come to see me, and were probably just waiting for their loved ones, but for about 10 seconds, these complete strangers were yelling for me. It was a pretty great feeling. I decided to take a breath and focus and pick up the pace to finish strong. I was hurting by the end, but I finished in good form. The announcer yelled my name, and I crossed the finishing mat. I was done
I grabbed some water and gatorade, and a volunteer took my timing chip. I got my medal and obligatory foil sheet (it was kind of chilly, after all). And I was officially done. Snapped a photo in front of the stand, found Maggie, Colin's parents, Eileen and started recounting the story.
I found my old rowing buddy and chatted with him a bit. He was a member of the Philly Tri Club, and was gearing up for bigger and better things.
I waited for Colin to come down the chute, he looked good finishing.
Final times for Me:
Bike - 2:49:22 - 19.8mph
Run - 1:54:59 - 8:47 pace
Colin:
Bike - 2:53:16 19.4mph
Run - 1:57:38 8:59 pace
All that was left was to have a Yuengling, watch the Eagles game, and have a DQ Blizzard, and I could call it a day.
Plenty to learn from this race. That'll have to be for another post.
Well, not quite.
The almost-record-breaking rainy months of August and September had left Stroudsburg Pennsylvania highly saturated, making the behavior of the Delaware River quite volatile. The days leading up to the race were proving to be equally as wet, rocketing the height of the river up almost 10 feet in a short amount of time. The currents became faster, and the amount of debris floating down the river increased.
Plus, it was a nasty shade of brown.
The race directors and National Park Service "jointly decided to cancel the swim", which made the overall distance of the race 69.1 miles. The 1.2 mile swim was no more. For those keeping track, that turned the race into a 56 mile bike, and a 13.1 mile run.
They cancelled the swim a couple of days in advance, so it gave the athletes plenty of time to process the news and release any frustration before race day. We (my buddy Colin and I) were bummed, but still very much wanted to race. We headed over to the event expo to register and pick up our race packets. The packet contained all of the things we'd need to be official participants in the race: race bib, race numbers for the bike and helmet, timing chip, etc. Additionally, we would have to check in our racing gear the day before the race. This was something that was new to us.
Typically, a triathlon will have a single 'transition area' which, after each leg of the race, the athlete will return to: swim; grab bike from transition area; ride; grab shoes from transition area; run; finish. The finish is also usually very close to the transition area. It's very convenient. Everything is in one spot.
However, the geography of Stroudsburg and surrounding areas pretty much dictated that the transition areas be in separate spots. The swim-to-bike transition (T1) was 8 miles from the bike-to-run transition (T2), which was 1 mile from the finish line. Logistically, it's a pain in the ass. Which is why the athletes needed to hustle around the day before the race to check in all of their gear.
We checked in all of our gear, which gave us an opportunity to scope out some of the race course. The road we drove down to get to the T1 would be the same road we'd have to ride up during the bike portion.
We got a little worried.
The road had some pretty intimidating hills. They weren't the worst we had ever seen, but they were going to be challenging. They were near the beginning of the bike course, so they'd really play a part in setting the tone for the rest of the ride.
We returned to the hotel, and got ready for a 4:30am wake up. Not surprisingly, we were both up at 4:15am; no alarm needed. We grabbed our gear and headed to T2 to grab a shuttle (read: big yellow school bus) to T1. The geography of the area wouldn't allow for all athletes to drive down to T1: There simply wasn't enough room. As a result, athletes had to be shuttled to T1.
It was a quiet 30 minute ride to T1. Almost quiet. While most athletes were silently sitting, thinking about the race, one woman was chatting away to a complete stranger about anything and everything she could think about. I think it was nerves; she must've had a lot of nervous energy and that's how she was calming herself down.
We arrived at T1 at 5:45am. To the bathroom! Invariably, there are never enough port-a-potties available at these races, so it's always a good idea to get in line early: by the time you get to the front of the line, you'll have to go to the bathroom.
We headed into T1, and finished setting up our gear (load up the water bottles, pump up the tires, eat some food, eye up the competition). Now we had some time to kill. We wandered over to what would've been the swim exit to take a look at the river. It was still high, and it was still moving fast. There was no way that anyone would be able to swim against the current (which is what part of the swim course required). We hated to admit it, but cancelling the swim was the absolute correct decision. We moseyed back up to T1 and looked at our watches. We had some more time to kill.
To the bathroom!
Better to wait in line early than not have enough time to go to the bathroom when it really matters.
It wasn't long before the pros were called to the starting line to begin the race. The race directors decided to make the beginning of the race a Time Trial start. That simply means that athletes would cross the start line one at a time, at a specific time interval. The interval for the pros would be 30 seconds. The interval for everyone else would be 3 seconds. So every 3 seconds, another athlete is beginning the race. Race number would determine order. I was 398 and Colin was 1944, so we weren't going to start anywhere near each other, and we most likely wouldn't see each other on the bike course.
I unracked my bike, and awaited my turn to cross the starting line. "Ready. Set. Go. Ready. Set. Go. Ready. Set. Go". The race director said over and over and over as the athletes in front of me crossed the line and headed out on the course. Finally, I was the person to whom he was saying, "Ready. Set. Go". I ran across the timing mat with my bike towards the bike mount line, roughly 20 yards away. I crossed the mount line, hopped on my bike, and got moving.
I was ready.
It was a quick left turn out of the park area onto the first main road. I was moving at a good pace, and was feeling strong. I decided to push it a little bit to get out of the congestion that comes when 398 people are on the course, spread out by only 15 minutes.
I reached the first turnaround, and there was still a lot of congestion. The road was narrow, making the 180 degree turn even tougher. The roads were in decent shape. They were wet, but they were smooth and not too filled with debris. I hit the 5 mile mark and looked down at my watch: 14:28. I thought something was wrong. That was too fast. But then I realized that I was probably averaging a little above 20mph, and the math made sense. I just didn't think I was going that fast.
I hit the first challenging hill. Some people were off their bikes, walking up it. Wow, already claiming casualties. I was surprised. It was a tough little hill, but it wasn't the one that I had made a mental note of when we were driving down the day before. It wasn't long before I arrived at the foot of the climb. It was steeper and longer than the first one. This was it; the badass hill that we were worried about. I dropped into a lower gear and start chugging along. It was tough, but it was early enough in the race that my legs were fresh, so I was able to crest the top pretty quickly. I was out of breath, but feeling strong. I cranked back into a higher gear and was off again.
The course took a sharp left onto Hidden Lake Road (I never found the lake, it's pretty hidden I guess), which was slightly more gravelly than desired. It seemed freshly paved, but more resembled one of those black rubber gravel tracks. I think it was an emergency paving job to get it into a good enough state to ride on.
The next 15 or so miles were pretty uneventful. I rode strong, passed some people, got passed by some people, and generally felt good. I had an energy bar around mile 15, as I had planned, and gulped down gatorade when I got the chance. It seemed that every time I took my water bottle out of the cage, another small hill appeared in front of me. I had to scramble to get it back in the cage so I could focus on the hill.
There was some great scenery along the way, along with some not-so-great road conditions. Rustic barns and potholed roads made for an interesting middle-course ride. It was at about this point that the course took on an interesting characteristic: several very fast descents followed quickly by quick, unexpected turns. If there had only been one, I wouldn't have thought anything of it, but it happened 3 separate times, which led me to believe that the course designer may or may not have done it on purpose. I was equally aggravated but appreciative. Sure, I would've liked to coast for as long as gravity would allow, but I like that there was never an opportunity to slack off for too long. This course was all business. And poo. Around mile 33 there was a nice steaming pile on the road. Most likely not from a fellow competitor. I guess you never know, though.
I was getting into a stride through miles 30-40, and then, as I should've expected, the course hit me (and all of us) with a nice surprise climb. It was a short, but fairly steep hill that seemed to come out of nowhere, so there was no way to cheat and let momentum help you up the hill. It was right around Mile 42, which, as far as I can tell, is about where the mythical "wall" is hit for athletes on a 56-mile course. It was that point where you are beginning to tire and are hoping that the remaining 14 miles will be an easy ride. I was slowed to a very very slow pace. I was not pleased with myself
It was in the middle of that hill that an old rowing teammate passed me. Until earlier that morning, I had no idea that he was in the race. I thought I had seen someone at the expo the day before that looked like him, but passed it off as my brain playing tricks on me. It wasn't until I noticed him in the transition area that I was fairly certain that it was him. And even then, I wasn't 100% sure. Plus, I was trying to focus on the impending race start, so I was trying not to distract myself.
But as he passed me, I could tell it was definitely my old buddy Matt. I motored up the hill and caught up to him to chat with him briefly. We talked a bit about our racing schedules (he had done a couple Ironmans and was planning on doing Lake Placid), and a little of our old rowing days, and then it was back to business. He took off again, but I was determined to stick with him for as long as I could. After all, it had taken him 42 miles to catch me (he started a few minutes behind me), so we were somewhat evenly paced. He pulled far ahead, and I was able to make up some ground, but then he pulled ahead some more and just kept going. He was moving.
That brief encounter gave me a little bit of energy, and I was able to hammer it for the next 8 or so miles. There was a nice tough uphill which I was able to get up to hit the 50 mile marker at around 2:37. I was happy with that. 6 more miles at a hopeful 3 minutes/mile and I'd be at T2 in under 3 hours.
I made some final turns in the town of Stroudsburg where some crowds had gathered so I knew I was getting close. I started to recognize the area, and before I knew it, I was heading into T2. I actually got there around 2:49, so either the 50-mile marker was incorrect, it wasn't a full 56 mile course, or I'm just a freaking beast. I doubt it's the last one.
I dismounted and headed into the transition area. Definitely got a little choked up. Not sure why, but was just feeling really good, and was so grateful for all of the volunteers that were there to donate their time to make sure things went well for us.
I racked my bike, threw my sneakers on, grabbed some energy, and then just stood there for a second. Was it time to go? Yea, I guess it was. I ran out...but then quickly doubled back to grab some water. I knew I needed it. I felt a little cramped running out of transition, but overall was feeling pretty strong...surprisingly strong. Made a few quick turns out of the track area and through the parking lot, where I ran past Maggie and Eileen. They cheered me on, and asked how I felt, to which I responded "not feeling like running 13 miles", but I said it with a smile and was feeling really good. In all honesty, at that point, I was looking forward to the next 13 miles.
I made my way to Main St. in Stroudsburg and got energized by the groups of people that had gathered. I turned left onto a side street to follow the course, and almost ran into Colin's parents. They were making their way to Main St. to find a good viewing spot, and I just happened to see them. Such good people, it was a big boost to see them and say a few words.
Some more running to the first aid station where they were all dressed in pink. I guess they wanted to have a theme. Some costumes, a tutu, a cape, a helmet...all pink. I think I took some water, but can't remember exactly. I must've. I wouldn't pass up an opportunity for water.
I headed up a slight incline, and started cramping up in my hamstring. I thought I could stride it out, but it didn't go away, so I decided to reach down and see if I could massage it while still running. That was a mistake. As soon as I touched my hamstring, it scrunched into a ball and I was in full cramp mode. I had to stop running to stretch it out. Someone asked if I was okay. "Yea, just cramps".
I got going again, having only lost about 30 seconds. I hit mile 2 under 17:00, so even with the stop, I was moving at a decent pace. I got to the next aid station, where they...had....bananas! Just what I needed to prevent cramping. Actually, I'm not certain that potassium after the fact helps, but I was going to as many bananas as I could. Help is on the way, boys!
I got into a good stride again, but some guys were passing me. They were trucking. The professional men were making their way back already. wow. I yelled out at them, but I doubt they needed the inspiration
At around Mile 4, there was a decent uphill. My legs started to get more and more cramped. Now it was both hamstrings and my quads as well. Near the top of the hill, it got so bad that I had to stop. I tried to stretch out my quad, which was a terrible idea. My hamstring tightened right up and I was frozen. The cramps prevented me from moving my legs in either direction. I was able to scuttle over to a downed tree branch to sit on it. I tried to massage my legs, but it didn't seem to be helping. Some motorcycle cops stopped and asked how I was doing. I told them I was fine and that I just had cramps. A woman ran by at right then and yelled out, "ya gotta walk it out". So I tried to get up to walk it out. Maybe it was the break, maybe it was the bananas, but my legs started to feel better. I walked a bit, and then quickly got to running again. There was a bit of a downhill, so I could move a little more freely. I had clearly lost some time. I got to the 5 mile marker at around 45:00, so I was now averaging 9 minute miles. Mile 6.5 was supposed to be the turnaround, and I could feel that I was getting closer. I hit another aid station and grabbed some water, some gatorade, and of course, a banana.
I reached Mile 6, and my old rowing buddy hadn't yet passed me. He really wasn't that far ahead. The aid station people said that there was still about a mile to go, so maybe the turnaround wasn't as close as I had thought. Finally, we crossed paths and gave each other some encouragement. He looked pretty strong. I think I looked alright.
I reached the turnaround at around 1:01:30, which put me under 9:00/mile pace. I was feeling strong and was more than halfway home. The trip back was strong, but uneventful. I was a little slow up the hills, but still felt good. I grabbed some water, soda and bananas to keep me going.
I passed by Colin around mile 8.5. He looked good. We slapped hands amid the crowd of runners. The guy in front of him thought that I was trying to slap his hand. weird.
I got to mile 10, and just started thinking about beer. I just wanted a beer. That's all. I wanted to sit at the bar, and drink a beer. I knew I only had a 5k to run. A run around the river in Boston. I'd done that run a million times. I was there. And as I got out of my beer haze, I hit mile 11. I was golden. Some pesky uphills got me out of breath, but my cramps were gone, and I was feeling good.
Around mile 11, there were some guys that must've read my mind, they had a table full of beer. Oh, but it was Rolling Rock. boo. I asked if they had any Yuengling, but no luck. I ran on.
I was starting to recognize the area as very close to Main St. I passed by the pink station again, and I knew I was home free. I felt really strong for the final two miles. The fact that I had ridden 56 miles and run 11 seemed to have 0 effect on me. I just felt like I was out for a nice 2 mile run.
A few quick turns, and then I was on Main St. It was a long chute to the finish, but there were so many people there, it was amazing. I happened to be the only person running down the street at that point in time, so there was no mistake that those people were cheering for me. And I couldn't help but get choked up. I know they hadn't come to see me, and were probably just waiting for their loved ones, but for about 10 seconds, these complete strangers were yelling for me. It was a pretty great feeling. I decided to take a breath and focus and pick up the pace to finish strong. I was hurting by the end, but I finished in good form. The announcer yelled my name, and I crossed the finishing mat. I was done
I grabbed some water and gatorade, and a volunteer took my timing chip. I got my medal and obligatory foil sheet (it was kind of chilly, after all). And I was officially done. Snapped a photo in front of the stand, found Maggie, Colin's parents, Eileen and started recounting the story.
I found my old rowing buddy and chatted with him a bit. He was a member of the Philly Tri Club, and was gearing up for bigger and better things.
I waited for Colin to come down the chute, he looked good finishing.
Final times for Me:
Bike - 2:49:22 - 19.8mph
Run - 1:54:59 - 8:47 pace
Colin:
Bike - 2:53:16 19.4mph
Run - 1:57:38 8:59 pace
All that was left was to have a Yuengling, watch the Eagles game, and have a DQ Blizzard, and I could call it a day.
Plenty to learn from this race. That'll have to be for another post.
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