13 years. That’s how long it has been since my last triathlon. So here I was, about to tackle the California ½ Ironman. A few things have changed since my last race. Everyone here looks really fit, and 99% of the bikes have the latest technology—it used to be that buying speed would give you an edge—now you needed to do so just to keep up. Another factor was the seriousness of everyone--it used to be that those in the MOP & newbies were just out to enjoy the day & the experience--now everyone has their game face on & is much more serious about their race. I was probably the least serious person out there as I knew I wasn’t racing today. A few things have changed about me since my last race as well. Aside from the years (I’m now 34), I now weigh 80lbs more than I did then. Back in the 80s I raced for a few years as a pro—I was never really good—probably a second tier pro in the regional races & a third tier on the USTS circuit—capable of cracking the top 10 on a good day, but never a threat for an overall win. My forte was swimming—I was a mediocre Division III swimmer, but for some reason I was able to do well in open water swims & would frequently come out in the top three. However from then on it was a case of damage control as the gazelles would run me down. I could win or place in the local races, but even in the early days of triathlon, the opportunities were limited to athletes who couldn’t put together a sub 34 min. 10k.
Its funny how the mind works: though an outside party would look at me now & say “hmm, too much couch time”, I still had the mental/body image of that semi-pro from 1988. A big part of me still (sort-of) believed that it was just the matter of getting on the bike for a month or two, putting a week or two of pool time back together, and dropping a couple of pounds & I would be capable of competing again—maybe not on the same level, but hey, they have this division for us big guys & I’m sure I can win that….how hard can it be? For the same reason I loved “The Matrix”, “Lord of the Rings”, and pretty much anything written by the young Stephen King, I continued to perpetuate this self-image of myself—it was an enjoyable fantasy. About three years ago I began seriously considering “The Comeback”….I began swimming again (intermittently) with a couple of different masters programs, I dug out the road bike (hmm, seems to have shrunk a bit….good thing for ebay), and began exploring some of the hiking trails in the San Gabriel mountains behind my house. I dabbled a bit with mountain biking, and began reading again about triathlons. In 2002 I entered three triathlons in the late summer & contacted Rich Strauss, a triathlon coach who lived two towns over—if I was going to do this, I was going to do it right. Turns out that he had swum Division III at the same time as I (ah, a benchmark to measure my progress by!) & was looking for someone to swim with (for those of you who did not grow up spending summers attending USS meets & winters smelling of chlorine 24/7, there is nothing, absolutely nothing worse than doing laps solo….it is the most boring thing you can do & I have never met an ex-swimmer who had the mental fortitude to simply “do laps” by themselves) as well as additional clients to coach; we agreed to meet a couple of times a week at the Rose Bowl pool & I signed on for his coaching services. I had put in a couple of weeks in with an early morning masters program so I was confident that we would be compatible in the water…..reality was a bit different. First off, no matter how much I may mentally lie to myself about my body composition & fitness level, my eyes don’t necessarily show me what my brain wants them to: this guy was lean & fit—polar opposite of myself. No matter I told myself, I’ve got quite a bit more muscle mass & fat floats—the differences will cancel themselves out. If memory serves, we did a few sets of 100s where I was at least within a body length or so; good, everything according to plan. However sets of 500s shattered any hope I had that my old form was still present. Getting lapped swimming 500s long course destroyed my ego as well as my long-held self-perception (or was that deception?). I was done—suddenly I found that work, home & spousal commitments interceded when I was supposed to be training…and of course there were clients to entertain, movies to see, and Krispy Kreme shops to visit. Flush $500.00 down the toilet, I wasn’t racing this year…my ego had been damaged enough & combined with some fractured ribs from a mountain bike accident was enough to send me back to the land of make-believe & the happy sugar-induced haze of my couch.
Fast forward to fall 2002: I had been following Rich’s website & his preparation for Ironman Wisconsin and his results at Wisconsin really got me pumped up. I started putting in some time on the road & mountain bike, as well as running a couple of times a week. Come November, and Rich was kind enough to let me tag along on his pre-season rides & it really helped seeing that he & Jon were human & had pretty much taken the fall off after Wisconsin & were starting from scratch. I felt that I had a good December & into January was feeling good about my fitness. Then the wheels came off: I got dropped big time twice in one week during easy group rides & my motivation went out the door. I shut it down after Super Bowl Sunday & didn’t touch my bike or my running shoes for all of February & most of March. Jon Pedder finally encouraged me to get back out & just do something rather than mopping around, being pissed off at myself.
So here I was, 5 minutes before the start of a half Ironman for which I was woefully under trained (and under trained is a huge overstatement). Still, I had a game-plan—stay within my abilities, race solely by HR, ignore what everyone else is doing, and use this as a first step back. My personal acceptance of this plan was a huge step for me mentally—it totally changed the focus of my day & allowed me to bypass the “all-or-nothing” competitive focus that had allowed me to defeat myself & quit before. I had very few time goals for the event: I wanted to be on the bike at 40 minutes, on the run at 4 hours, and finish around 6 hours. Participating & staying within my plan (keep my HR under 160 the entire day except for the 2 climbs on the bike course) was the primary focus of the day. However no plan is perfect, and when I checked my HR monitor before donning my wetsuit & it was 125, I knew something was a bit off. I attributed it to nerves, though mentally I was very calm & went about my business. I had only swam twice in 2003—both within the two weeks leading to the race. Still, I figured I had a 15 year swimming base from childhood + college & I knew that with the wetsuit I would be fine & could make the swim without too many problems. Watching the pros come out of the water was fun—the lead group flew thru the swim course & they were practically sprinting as they came up the ramp & ran the ¼ mile + to their bikes. The Clydesdale wave entered the water & waited about 1 minute for the gun to sound. I was feeling good—my new T-1 wetsuit was really comfortable & warm (somehow my old QR shrank while in the closet). I lined up in the front row near the shore—there were roughly 100 people in our wave & it wasn’t bunched at all. I checked my HR monitor again while treading water: 155. I’m frigging at my AnThr & haven’t even started exercising. Not good. My breathing is normal, I feel fine—lets hope its just nerves. Horn goes off & we go—the first 300 yards I’m trying to swim as slow as possible—concentrate on my stroke & just relax. I didn’t get hit once—spacing was fine. Feet are threatening to cramp, and there is a twinge in my left hamstring but I attribute that to the cold water & keep stroking. About 5 minutes into the swim & start looking for a pair of feet to latch onto—nobody is around—I take a look around & realize that I’m 25 yards ahead of the nearest swimmer—what is going on here?--this is not part of the game-plan. I’m barely breathing hard—more from the cold than exertion. I check my HR & reality hits: 185. My brain & lungs seem to be ignoring my heart. Ok, lets calm it down & concentrate on long strokes. I get into a rhythm and feel really good at the first turn—check the watch & see 12 minutes. Sweet. Unfortunately HR is still 180+. At this point I decide to shut it down—whatever I’m doing my body is not happy & despite how I feel now, I have a long day ahead of me. I flip on my back & backstroke to the next buoy & check it again—172. Better but still not within the game-plan. I continue to backstroke, doing a very nice zigzag of the back half of the course. I manage to swim over a few dozen of the slower swimmers from the previous waves, hit a buoy, hit a lifeguard, and generally flop around a bit in the water. Tons of blue caps are going by but my HR is down into the low 160s so I’m back on plan. I finally flip over & latch onto the feet of a red cap who started in the wave after us & follow him/her the final 300 yards into the dock.
At the dock I check my time: 35 minutes & 180 HR again. Probably wasted 10 minutes out there & still have a skyrocketing HR. I jog down the corral to the bike transition—breathing is fine, triceps cramping a bit as I get my wetsuit top off, but my main problem is my calves—both are cramping massively with each step. This has happened to me in the past & from experience I know that they will pass, but I still have not figured out the cause (lack of O2, potassium, sodium??). Bit crowded in the bike corral as there are 5-10 Clydes donning their gear. I must say that the attitude amongst the Clydes is reminiscent of the early years of tri—not a lot of attitude or pretensions in this group: we weigh 200+ -- who are we kidding?? Drop my wetsuit top, step out of my bottoms (mimicking Tim Debooms’ method of not using hands—just step on the legs & wiggle out while putting on helmet + glasses). Shoes are on bike so I am out of there in a hurry. I’m on the bike quickly despite struggling a bit with my jersey. Only problem occurs while getting my feet into my shoes—another rider doing the same cuts in front of me & I am forced off the road over a curb to avoid taking him out. My plan was to spin for the first 25 miles, keeping my HR under 150. Rich gave detailed course notes so I knew it was mostly flat & I was planning on keeping a decent pace + effort but saving up for the 25-40 mile stretch of rollers + hills. The wind changed all that in regards to speed: I rode as easily as I could for the first five miles—I was determined to get my HR under 150 no matter what the cost. People were passing me like I was standing still. My legs felt great, and I was comfortable on the bike, but my HR just wouldn’t budge—it was stuck at 168. There were a couple of long downhills where I would coast & it would drop to 148, but as soon as I started pedaling it would spike again. Finally at about mile 15 or so it settled in the high 150s which I figured I could live with as my PE was extremely low—I felt like I was on the warm-up for a long ride. About 600 people passed me in the first 20 miles. There were some packs, but aside from some of the Masters racers, it appeared very clean. Saw quite a few marshals riding behind some of the packs on motorcycles but no idea if any drafting DQs or penalties. The wind was really something—I was feeling it more than most due to my size—but it was affecting everyone. I just concentrated on keeping aero with my head down & getting Gatorade + gels into me on a regular basis. Something was off on my nutrition—I would feel great for about 10 minutes after consuming a gel + Gatorade then suffer a mini-bonk until I did it again. I attribute that to my elevated HR more than anything else—it seemed as if my body wouldn’t process stored energy & needed constant intake to keep the motor revving). During the bike course I consumed the 4 Power Gels I had on my bike, another 6-7 Gu I got at the aid stations (the Marines were great—as you approached the aid station they would bark “you WILL drop your water bottle in the designated drop zone” & their stations were spotless—a really good show) + my new favorites: 3 Crank Sports e Gel—really smooth & liquidy—didn’t need to wash down with water/Gatorade like the Gu & especially the Power Gels. I drank 2 x 24 oz Gatorade, 1 x 16 oz water, and 2 x 16 oz Gatorade that they were handing out. My hydration was good as I only had to pee after the bike. Mile 30-35 was hard for me—my HR was 165+, I felt like I was really working it, and I was almost in the easiest gear. I knew from Rich that this was a false flat, but the effort combined with the constant stream of people passing was a bit demoralizing. At this point I was having some doubts—the run seemed a long way off & there was still a big climb or two ahead, and I had a very real fear of coming in dead last…I estimated that over 1000 people had passed me up to this point (“on your left” seemed to be my theme of the day). Rather than dwelling on it, I sat up & admired the scenery—it really was beautiful out & I cheered myself up with the realization that it was April, I was doing a triathlon again, I was in Southern California & I was actually enjoying myself & sticking to a plan. I felt good on the second climb & my HR only went to 168—my body seemed to be settling down & getting back into the groove. I passed about 30 people on the climb & I knew it was downhill from there. At this point, with about 16 miles to go I thought “game on” (thanks Rich) & decided to put the hammer down & get into transition inside of 4 hours. My HR stayed at about 165 for the next 30 minutes and I felt great—probably passed about 300 people. It was during this time that I consumed the e Gels, and they really helped. I was in 53 x 15/16 even on the flats coming back toward the beach with a cross-wind….makes me wonder what might have been if I had just chucked the plan & raced on feel (note to self: “you would have ended up cramping on one of the climbs, blown up at the top, and staggered home on the bike & DNF’d or walked in”).
Back into the transition area—the top women were just finishing & the crowd was really something as you pedaled into transition. I was amazed at the # of bikes in corral—I know I’m dwelling on the past, but I was used to pedaling in and seeing single digits—not packed racks of bikes. Still the Clydes were only about 65% full, so at least I was ahead of a couple of people. I took the time to down 4 Advil, put on socks, tie my shoes (notice to self—lace locks next time—couldn’t find any in the expo the day before), and put on a fresh shirt. A quick trip to the bathroom & off on the run. My plan for the run was average 8:30 or so miles, with a minute or so walk thru the aid stations….however above all else I wasn’t going to let my HR get above 160 or so. I followed Rich’s mantra that an Ironman run is not about running fast—its about slowing down the least. Legs felt great & pretty fresh—it was a beautiful day & the wind was really pleasant on the run. Saw plenty of people I knew on the first lap—Jon Pedder looked really lean, fit & strong coming home. Rich looked really focused, and everyone seemed in high spirits. I held 9:15 miles on the first leg, 10:00 on the second (the headwind coming in was refreshing, but slowed me down), 9:45s on the third (aid station breaks were a bit longer as felt cramps coming on so was gulping Coke + Gatorade + pretzels), and then the final leg was a bit of a struggle as the wheels came off a bit due to blisters on the toes & a battle with hamstring & calf cramps. I held back on the first & third laps with the wind pushing me—glad I did as the final mile was a constant battle against leg cramps. Still was able to run down quite a few Clydes during the last 6 miles and finished feeling strong…though my calves were cramping severely down the homestretch.
Overall I was pleased: I could have pushed more, but I probably would have ended up walking. I met all of my goals—I didn’t walk on the run, I raced within myself, and stuck to my plan despite my ego & pace. My legs felt fine at the end aside from the cramping issues. I averaged 162 HR for the entire race. The importance of having a good base was substantiated: between November & January 21 I put in some good distance on the bike & run—since then I did nothing up until a week ago. I would not have been able to finish if I didn’t have a base to fall back on. 3 bike rides, 2 runs and 2 swims in the 2 months leading up to a ½ Ironman are not a prescription for success.
What I did right:
1. Adhering to a plan: because of my lack of training over the past 2 months, I knew that pacing would be critical. I took off my computer on my bike & concentrated solely on HR. My #1 fear was blowing up on the bike & not being able to complete the race. Holding to that plan on the run was crucial: I could have dropped the hammer early & put in some quick miles, but I would have been on crutches by the end of the day. By maintaining self-discipline and not worrying about the 1000+ people that passed me on the bike & run, I was able to remain strong & steady throughout the entire day.
2. Keeping a positive mental attitude: the wind really took me out of my attack plan on the bike—I was unable to spin along at 140 or so during the first 25 miles & then attack the rollers + hills. Between miles 30-35, on the false flat, I was having some doubts---everyone was flying by, my HR was 165 & I was barely moving. However I just kept enjoying the day, admiring the scenery, and kept the goal for the day in mind.
Items to work on:
1. Body composition: If I want to get any semblance of being fast again I’ve got to lose at least 60lbs. Period. All the aero technology in the world isn’t going to help me go faster as long as I’m heavy. All the training in the world isn’t going to make me faster unless I lay off the pizza, donuts & alcohol.
2. Sodium/potassium intake: my legs were cramping 200yds into the swim, and the run from the swim ramp to my bike was one big cramp as my calves were not happy. All day I was on the edge of cramping, and I believe it was because I over-hydrated the day before and was sodium deficient. Need to eat more bananas as well as that has helped in the past.
3. Bike fit: I was only able to stay aero about 40% of the time—my HR would quickly ramp up to 165+ if I maintained the position too long into the wind or up a slope. However if I rode in a modified sitting up—grasping the aero bars near the end so I was at least somewhat narrow (or at least as narrow as someone who wears a 50L sport coat can be) I was comfortable. That and the fact that 24 hrs later & my unit is still a bit numb means I need a professional fit. However I don’t think either of these would be as much of an issue if I were 50lbs lighter & didn’t have a Pirelli around my waist.
4. Better planning: I considered bringing my lighter wheels in addition to my disk + front tri-spoke & decided not to. A big mistake as I was blown all over the place with that setup (I have no idea how some of the 150lbers were able to maintain control as I was really fighting the bike on some of the down-hills with a cross-wind). Another factor was comfort: tri shorts are great to swim in & run in, but they really blow on the bike. I probably lost 10+ minutes standing up & adjusting my nether regions trying to get comfortable. From now on, unless it is a sprint race, I’ll swim in my Castelli bibs & then change after the bike.
5. Gear: I wore a lycra vest underneath my wetsuit to prevent chaffing. I was going to wear my bike singlet, but was afraid of being cold as the wind was really blowing. Next time I’ll wear the jersey/singlet underneath as it dries quickly. That being said, comfort on these long races is really important to me. I need to spend an additional 30 seconds lubing up the toes as I had some blister issues about mile 11 on the run that really slowed me down. I really liked having dry socks to run in as well as a fresh shirt. Plan for Wildflower will include changing out of cycling bibs & into tri-shorts for the run + possibly a jersey change depending. Also need to get a race belt for race # + gel flasks. Need to practice mounting my bike with shoes-on; the toe warmers didn’t help, but if there had been a hill coming out of the transition I would have had problems & it would have cost me some time.
I want to thank Rich Strauss & Jon Pedder for their encouragement—Rich for dealing with my mental collapses & still willing to help & Jon for not letting me give up on myself & getting me out the door. They both had great races, despite not resting at all & just keeping a steady effort during the day. If anyone is looking for a coach or a source of advice/inspiration, I cannot say enough good things about them. Anyone in the 35-39 racing ICDA & hoping to qualify for Hawaii is going to have their work cut out for them if they think they can beat Pedder. Just a friggin machine.
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"There are two novels that can change a bookish fourteen-year old's life: The Lord of the Rings and Atlas Shrugged. One is a childish fantasy that often engenders a lifelong obsession with its unbelievable heroes, leading to an emotionally stunted, socially crippled adulthood, unable to deal with the real world. The other, of course, involves orcs." John Rogers
Its funny how the mind works: though an outside party would look at me now & say “hmm, too much couch time”, I still had the mental/body image of that semi-pro from 1988. A big part of me still (sort-of) believed that it was just the matter of getting on the bike for a month or two, putting a week or two of pool time back together, and dropping a couple of pounds & I would be capable of competing again—maybe not on the same level, but hey, they have this division for us big guys & I’m sure I can win that….how hard can it be? For the same reason I loved “The Matrix”, “Lord of the Rings”, and pretty much anything written by the young Stephen King, I continued to perpetuate this self-image of myself—it was an enjoyable fantasy. About three years ago I began seriously considering “The Comeback”….I began swimming again (intermittently) with a couple of different masters programs, I dug out the road bike (hmm, seems to have shrunk a bit….good thing for ebay), and began exploring some of the hiking trails in the San Gabriel mountains behind my house. I dabbled a bit with mountain biking, and began reading again about triathlons. In 2002 I entered three triathlons in the late summer & contacted Rich Strauss, a triathlon coach who lived two towns over—if I was going to do this, I was going to do it right. Turns out that he had swum Division III at the same time as I (ah, a benchmark to measure my progress by!) & was looking for someone to swim with (for those of you who did not grow up spending summers attending USS meets & winters smelling of chlorine 24/7, there is nothing, absolutely nothing worse than doing laps solo….it is the most boring thing you can do & I have never met an ex-swimmer who had the mental fortitude to simply “do laps” by themselves) as well as additional clients to coach; we agreed to meet a couple of times a week at the Rose Bowl pool & I signed on for his coaching services. I had put in a couple of weeks in with an early morning masters program so I was confident that we would be compatible in the water…..reality was a bit different. First off, no matter how much I may mentally lie to myself about my body composition & fitness level, my eyes don’t necessarily show me what my brain wants them to: this guy was lean & fit—polar opposite of myself. No matter I told myself, I’ve got quite a bit more muscle mass & fat floats—the differences will cancel themselves out. If memory serves, we did a few sets of 100s where I was at least within a body length or so; good, everything according to plan. However sets of 500s shattered any hope I had that my old form was still present. Getting lapped swimming 500s long course destroyed my ego as well as my long-held self-perception (or was that deception?). I was done—suddenly I found that work, home & spousal commitments interceded when I was supposed to be training…and of course there were clients to entertain, movies to see, and Krispy Kreme shops to visit. Flush $500.00 down the toilet, I wasn’t racing this year…my ego had been damaged enough & combined with some fractured ribs from a mountain bike accident was enough to send me back to the land of make-believe & the happy sugar-induced haze of my couch.
Fast forward to fall 2002: I had been following Rich’s website & his preparation for Ironman Wisconsin and his results at Wisconsin really got me pumped up. I started putting in some time on the road & mountain bike, as well as running a couple of times a week. Come November, and Rich was kind enough to let me tag along on his pre-season rides & it really helped seeing that he & Jon were human & had pretty much taken the fall off after Wisconsin & were starting from scratch. I felt that I had a good December & into January was feeling good about my fitness. Then the wheels came off: I got dropped big time twice in one week during easy group rides & my motivation went out the door. I shut it down after Super Bowl Sunday & didn’t touch my bike or my running shoes for all of February & most of March. Jon Pedder finally encouraged me to get back out & just do something rather than mopping around, being pissed off at myself.
So here I was, 5 minutes before the start of a half Ironman for which I was woefully under trained (and under trained is a huge overstatement). Still, I had a game-plan—stay within my abilities, race solely by HR, ignore what everyone else is doing, and use this as a first step back. My personal acceptance of this plan was a huge step for me mentally—it totally changed the focus of my day & allowed me to bypass the “all-or-nothing” competitive focus that had allowed me to defeat myself & quit before. I had very few time goals for the event: I wanted to be on the bike at 40 minutes, on the run at 4 hours, and finish around 6 hours. Participating & staying within my plan (keep my HR under 160 the entire day except for the 2 climbs on the bike course) was the primary focus of the day. However no plan is perfect, and when I checked my HR monitor before donning my wetsuit & it was 125, I knew something was a bit off. I attributed it to nerves, though mentally I was very calm & went about my business. I had only swam twice in 2003—both within the two weeks leading to the race. Still, I figured I had a 15 year swimming base from childhood + college & I knew that with the wetsuit I would be fine & could make the swim without too many problems. Watching the pros come out of the water was fun—the lead group flew thru the swim course & they were practically sprinting as they came up the ramp & ran the ¼ mile + to their bikes. The Clydesdale wave entered the water & waited about 1 minute for the gun to sound. I was feeling good—my new T-1 wetsuit was really comfortable & warm (somehow my old QR shrank while in the closet). I lined up in the front row near the shore—there were roughly 100 people in our wave & it wasn’t bunched at all. I checked my HR monitor again while treading water: 155. I’m frigging at my AnThr & haven’t even started exercising. Not good. My breathing is normal, I feel fine—lets hope its just nerves. Horn goes off & we go—the first 300 yards I’m trying to swim as slow as possible—concentrate on my stroke & just relax. I didn’t get hit once—spacing was fine. Feet are threatening to cramp, and there is a twinge in my left hamstring but I attribute that to the cold water & keep stroking. About 5 minutes into the swim & start looking for a pair of feet to latch onto—nobody is around—I take a look around & realize that I’m 25 yards ahead of the nearest swimmer—what is going on here?--this is not part of the game-plan. I’m barely breathing hard—more from the cold than exertion. I check my HR & reality hits: 185. My brain & lungs seem to be ignoring my heart. Ok, lets calm it down & concentrate on long strokes. I get into a rhythm and feel really good at the first turn—check the watch & see 12 minutes. Sweet. Unfortunately HR is still 180+. At this point I decide to shut it down—whatever I’m doing my body is not happy & despite how I feel now, I have a long day ahead of me. I flip on my back & backstroke to the next buoy & check it again—172. Better but still not within the game-plan. I continue to backstroke, doing a very nice zigzag of the back half of the course. I manage to swim over a few dozen of the slower swimmers from the previous waves, hit a buoy, hit a lifeguard, and generally flop around a bit in the water. Tons of blue caps are going by but my HR is down into the low 160s so I’m back on plan. I finally flip over & latch onto the feet of a red cap who started in the wave after us & follow him/her the final 300 yards into the dock.
At the dock I check my time: 35 minutes & 180 HR again. Probably wasted 10 minutes out there & still have a skyrocketing HR. I jog down the corral to the bike transition—breathing is fine, triceps cramping a bit as I get my wetsuit top off, but my main problem is my calves—both are cramping massively with each step. This has happened to me in the past & from experience I know that they will pass, but I still have not figured out the cause (lack of O2, potassium, sodium??). Bit crowded in the bike corral as there are 5-10 Clydes donning their gear. I must say that the attitude amongst the Clydes is reminiscent of the early years of tri—not a lot of attitude or pretensions in this group: we weigh 200+ -- who are we kidding?? Drop my wetsuit top, step out of my bottoms (mimicking Tim Debooms’ method of not using hands—just step on the legs & wiggle out while putting on helmet + glasses). Shoes are on bike so I am out of there in a hurry. I’m on the bike quickly despite struggling a bit with my jersey. Only problem occurs while getting my feet into my shoes—another rider doing the same cuts in front of me & I am forced off the road over a curb to avoid taking him out. My plan was to spin for the first 25 miles, keeping my HR under 150. Rich gave detailed course notes so I knew it was mostly flat & I was planning on keeping a decent pace + effort but saving up for the 25-40 mile stretch of rollers + hills. The wind changed all that in regards to speed: I rode as easily as I could for the first five miles—I was determined to get my HR under 150 no matter what the cost. People were passing me like I was standing still. My legs felt great, and I was comfortable on the bike, but my HR just wouldn’t budge—it was stuck at 168. There were a couple of long downhills where I would coast & it would drop to 148, but as soon as I started pedaling it would spike again. Finally at about mile 15 or so it settled in the high 150s which I figured I could live with as my PE was extremely low—I felt like I was on the warm-up for a long ride. About 600 people passed me in the first 20 miles. There were some packs, but aside from some of the Masters racers, it appeared very clean. Saw quite a few marshals riding behind some of the packs on motorcycles but no idea if any drafting DQs or penalties. The wind was really something—I was feeling it more than most due to my size—but it was affecting everyone. I just concentrated on keeping aero with my head down & getting Gatorade + gels into me on a regular basis. Something was off on my nutrition—I would feel great for about 10 minutes after consuming a gel + Gatorade then suffer a mini-bonk until I did it again. I attribute that to my elevated HR more than anything else—it seemed as if my body wouldn’t process stored energy & needed constant intake to keep the motor revving). During the bike course I consumed the 4 Power Gels I had on my bike, another 6-7 Gu I got at the aid stations (the Marines were great—as you approached the aid station they would bark “you WILL drop your water bottle in the designated drop zone” & their stations were spotless—a really good show) + my new favorites: 3 Crank Sports e Gel—really smooth & liquidy—didn’t need to wash down with water/Gatorade like the Gu & especially the Power Gels. I drank 2 x 24 oz Gatorade, 1 x 16 oz water, and 2 x 16 oz Gatorade that they were handing out. My hydration was good as I only had to pee after the bike. Mile 30-35 was hard for me—my HR was 165+, I felt like I was really working it, and I was almost in the easiest gear. I knew from Rich that this was a false flat, but the effort combined with the constant stream of people passing was a bit demoralizing. At this point I was having some doubts—the run seemed a long way off & there was still a big climb or two ahead, and I had a very real fear of coming in dead last…I estimated that over 1000 people had passed me up to this point (“on your left” seemed to be my theme of the day). Rather than dwelling on it, I sat up & admired the scenery—it really was beautiful out & I cheered myself up with the realization that it was April, I was doing a triathlon again, I was in Southern California & I was actually enjoying myself & sticking to a plan. I felt good on the second climb & my HR only went to 168—my body seemed to be settling down & getting back into the groove. I passed about 30 people on the climb & I knew it was downhill from there. At this point, with about 16 miles to go I thought “game on” (thanks Rich) & decided to put the hammer down & get into transition inside of 4 hours. My HR stayed at about 165 for the next 30 minutes and I felt great—probably passed about 300 people. It was during this time that I consumed the e Gels, and they really helped. I was in 53 x 15/16 even on the flats coming back toward the beach with a cross-wind….makes me wonder what might have been if I had just chucked the plan & raced on feel (note to self: “you would have ended up cramping on one of the climbs, blown up at the top, and staggered home on the bike & DNF’d or walked in”).
Back into the transition area—the top women were just finishing & the crowd was really something as you pedaled into transition. I was amazed at the # of bikes in corral—I know I’m dwelling on the past, but I was used to pedaling in and seeing single digits—not packed racks of bikes. Still the Clydes were only about 65% full, so at least I was ahead of a couple of people. I took the time to down 4 Advil, put on socks, tie my shoes (notice to self—lace locks next time—couldn’t find any in the expo the day before), and put on a fresh shirt. A quick trip to the bathroom & off on the run. My plan for the run was average 8:30 or so miles, with a minute or so walk thru the aid stations….however above all else I wasn’t going to let my HR get above 160 or so. I followed Rich’s mantra that an Ironman run is not about running fast—its about slowing down the least. Legs felt great & pretty fresh—it was a beautiful day & the wind was really pleasant on the run. Saw plenty of people I knew on the first lap—Jon Pedder looked really lean, fit & strong coming home. Rich looked really focused, and everyone seemed in high spirits. I held 9:15 miles on the first leg, 10:00 on the second (the headwind coming in was refreshing, but slowed me down), 9:45s on the third (aid station breaks were a bit longer as felt cramps coming on so was gulping Coke + Gatorade + pretzels), and then the final leg was a bit of a struggle as the wheels came off a bit due to blisters on the toes & a battle with hamstring & calf cramps. I held back on the first & third laps with the wind pushing me—glad I did as the final mile was a constant battle against leg cramps. Still was able to run down quite a few Clydes during the last 6 miles and finished feeling strong…though my calves were cramping severely down the homestretch.
Overall I was pleased: I could have pushed more, but I probably would have ended up walking. I met all of my goals—I didn’t walk on the run, I raced within myself, and stuck to my plan despite my ego & pace. My legs felt fine at the end aside from the cramping issues. I averaged 162 HR for the entire race. The importance of having a good base was substantiated: between November & January 21 I put in some good distance on the bike & run—since then I did nothing up until a week ago. I would not have been able to finish if I didn’t have a base to fall back on. 3 bike rides, 2 runs and 2 swims in the 2 months leading up to a ½ Ironman are not a prescription for success.
What I did right:
1. Adhering to a plan: because of my lack of training over the past 2 months, I knew that pacing would be critical. I took off my computer on my bike & concentrated solely on HR. My #1 fear was blowing up on the bike & not being able to complete the race. Holding to that plan on the run was crucial: I could have dropped the hammer early & put in some quick miles, but I would have been on crutches by the end of the day. By maintaining self-discipline and not worrying about the 1000+ people that passed me on the bike & run, I was able to remain strong & steady throughout the entire day.
2. Keeping a positive mental attitude: the wind really took me out of my attack plan on the bike—I was unable to spin along at 140 or so during the first 25 miles & then attack the rollers + hills. Between miles 30-35, on the false flat, I was having some doubts---everyone was flying by, my HR was 165 & I was barely moving. However I just kept enjoying the day, admiring the scenery, and kept the goal for the day in mind.
Items to work on:
1. Body composition: If I want to get any semblance of being fast again I’ve got to lose at least 60lbs. Period. All the aero technology in the world isn’t going to help me go faster as long as I’m heavy. All the training in the world isn’t going to make me faster unless I lay off the pizza, donuts & alcohol.
2. Sodium/potassium intake: my legs were cramping 200yds into the swim, and the run from the swim ramp to my bike was one big cramp as my calves were not happy. All day I was on the edge of cramping, and I believe it was because I over-hydrated the day before and was sodium deficient. Need to eat more bananas as well as that has helped in the past.
3. Bike fit: I was only able to stay aero about 40% of the time—my HR would quickly ramp up to 165+ if I maintained the position too long into the wind or up a slope. However if I rode in a modified sitting up—grasping the aero bars near the end so I was at least somewhat narrow (or at least as narrow as someone who wears a 50L sport coat can be) I was comfortable. That and the fact that 24 hrs later & my unit is still a bit numb means I need a professional fit. However I don’t think either of these would be as much of an issue if I were 50lbs lighter & didn’t have a Pirelli around my waist.
4. Better planning: I considered bringing my lighter wheels in addition to my disk + front tri-spoke & decided not to. A big mistake as I was blown all over the place with that setup (I have no idea how some of the 150lbers were able to maintain control as I was really fighting the bike on some of the down-hills with a cross-wind). Another factor was comfort: tri shorts are great to swim in & run in, but they really blow on the bike. I probably lost 10+ minutes standing up & adjusting my nether regions trying to get comfortable. From now on, unless it is a sprint race, I’ll swim in my Castelli bibs & then change after the bike.
5. Gear: I wore a lycra vest underneath my wetsuit to prevent chaffing. I was going to wear my bike singlet, but was afraid of being cold as the wind was really blowing. Next time I’ll wear the jersey/singlet underneath as it dries quickly. That being said, comfort on these long races is really important to me. I need to spend an additional 30 seconds lubing up the toes as I had some blister issues about mile 11 on the run that really slowed me down. I really liked having dry socks to run in as well as a fresh shirt. Plan for Wildflower will include changing out of cycling bibs & into tri-shorts for the run + possibly a jersey change depending. Also need to get a race belt for race # + gel flasks. Need to practice mounting my bike with shoes-on; the toe warmers didn’t help, but if there had been a hill coming out of the transition I would have had problems & it would have cost me some time.
I want to thank Rich Strauss & Jon Pedder for their encouragement—Rich for dealing with my mental collapses & still willing to help & Jon for not letting me give up on myself & getting me out the door. They both had great races, despite not resting at all & just keeping a steady effort during the day. If anyone is looking for a coach or a source of advice/inspiration, I cannot say enough good things about them. Anyone in the 35-39 racing ICDA & hoping to qualify for Hawaii is going to have their work cut out for them if they think they can beat Pedder. Just a friggin machine.
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