Just got internet for 1 evening before being away for another week, so here’s my report.
After a stressful week flying halfway round the world to be here and losing my luggage on the way, United finally got my bags to me on Tuesday night so I had my race gear and worn in shoes. Friday was 8 hours in traffic driving from New Jersey up to New Hampshire to Gunstock. Woke early on Saturday to grey skies and light drizzle which became heavy and didnt bode well for the race on Sunday. Wandered the expo, but managed not to buy anything extra for which my bank account and luggage allowance were, Im sure, very grateful.
In the afternoon I met up with some fellow forum members at the lake for a swim. This was well worthwhile, as the swim was what worried me most about the race, having not raced in open water before, only swum seriously in the sea on one occasion and never done a mass start in a race. The water was warmer than I expected and, despite the light wave motion which was a little disconcerting, I didnt find it too bad which was reassuring. Helpful advice from the experienced swimmers about not trying to be too close to the front reminded me to stay back and a bit wide to avoid being trampled on plus the fact that I was in wave 10 meant that there wouldnt be a mass of faster swimmers coming over me from a later wave.
I racked the bike up and then walked through the transition course a few times, trying to give myself an idea of where I should be heading. As more and more people came in to rack their bikes I started to realise just how big this race was going to be. 1300 plus the aquabikers and relay teams, which is way bigger than anything else Id taken part in before by a substantial margin. It was a fun atmosphere, but I was starting to feel pretty nervous.
Drove back to Gunstock for the pre-race meeting and the pasta party, went over the course maps again and retired to my tent for an early night. The other residents of the site has different ideas about that though, there were families having parties and singalongs nearby, and I was thankful Id brought my ipod with me to shut out the noise with some chill out tunes.
Sunday morning you didnt need an alarm clock. At 4:30 it was like a Nascar start as every racer on site seemed to start their engines within a couple of minutes of each other. Wed been told parking would be limited and so everyone wanted to be there early enough to park in the Ellacoya site. There was the option of the bus from Gunstock, but I just knew that if I took it, Id leave something important in the car back at the campsite, and decided that Id be happier having the car there, where I could easily hunt for anything if I needed it. Walking around in the dark, sorting through the bags there was an air of quiet excitement, tempered by lack of sleep. Headtorches and coffee mugs were the uniform of the day. I dug out my cereal and had breakfast, while starting to mainline Gatorade to ensure I was hydrated before the start, then spent 20 minutes relaxing in the car with some tunes and going over my race plan to ensure I had everything I needed and knew where it was all to be put.
Once it was light I took the bags over to transition, setting everything out and stressing over having it all in place. Then I did it all again. And again. Did I mention I was stressing! The queue for the portajohns was growing, so I hooked onto the end, chatting with people in line, and wondering if the light rain was going to ease up. It looked like it, which was promising, there were even patches of blue sky here and there. They held a pre-race briefing before playing the national anthem and calling athletes to the start. Being in wave 10, I had over an hour to go, so the last thing I wanted to do was be stuck in a wetsuit. I sat around chatting to other people in my wave, as we were all racked together in transition. A final trip to the portajohn and the usual struggle into the wetsuit followed by a final stress over the transition setup. It took me walking away 3 times before I made it out of transition, as I kept going back for one last check.
Walking down the beach you could see the first few waves of swimmers churning through the water, it looked an awful long way out to get round the buoys. I walked out into the lake, checked the swim cap and goggles then swam out a hundred yards or so, before turning around and looking back. Thats when I realised just how many people were in the race. There were about a thousand people in wetsuits either on shore or in the water. It looked just like the photos of events that Id seen online and in the magazines. To me, this was the big time. Surprisingly I wasnt nervous any more. Id done all I could, Id trained for it, set everything out and now all I had to do was go out there and swim, bike, run the best I could for the next few hours. I suddenly realised I was smiling, this might just turn out to be fun.
I chatted with the people around me until our wave was called up on the beach to cross the timing mats before walking back into the water for the start. I put myself near the back on the outside of the turn and wondered if Id be able to draft off anyone. With 30 seconds to go there was big round of applause and many exchanges of good luck within the wave, a final check of the goggles and then we were off.
Staying at the back was a good decision, there was no bashing and trampling that Id feared, and I eased into my stroke, reminding myself not to go out too quickly. I was swimming next to someone, but they gradually pulled away. I could feel the difference in effort required to swim, but realised I probably wasnt going to be drafting off anyone today. However, having the pack in front of me did make sighting easier, as I found that the orange buoys against the green of the trees made for very little contrast for someone whos mildly colourblind. I swam steadily and found that I wasnt getting out of breath and just allowed myself to stay at that pace. Im not a fast swimmer and was happy to find that after only really swimming in a pool, the lack of turnarounds wasnt too bad and that I could keep a steady rhythm going. My sighting was a little eratic and I was zigzagging somewhat, but not dropping off the back of the pack too much. Rounding the first bouy was a relief: I was a third done and not tiring, I figured I could make it through this. Halfway to the next buoy and I passed a swimmer from the previous wave. OK, Im now officially not the slowest person out here, and Im not coming in last. I felt better. Around the final buoy and sighting became easier as there was a big inflatable arch on the beach to aim for. Even I could see that, although it didnt exactly stop me from zigzagging a bit on the way in, and I also developed a bit of a cramp in my left calf, although not badly enough to stop me swimming.
Up on the beach, off with cap and goggles and the top of the suit came off easily, which was something else Id been worried about. It was only the third time Id worn the wetsuit (DeSoto) but it had made a big difference to my comfort in the swim. Running along the grass towards transition, I realised my heart rate was a lot higher than I had thought while swimming, and I was on shaky legs as I ran.
Swim: 44:07. Id hoped for under 45:00, I was on target.
A quick stop at the john going into transition (perhaps I was a bit over hydrated) and then slow myself down to get my shades, helmet, socks and bike shoes on, unrack the bike and trot through the arch out onto the bike course. Clipped in and rolling, talking to myself to keep it steady and just spin my legs into action.
As you turn out of the park and onto the bike course, theres a long, steady climb to greet you, the first of many for the day. Within the first 200 yards there was someone at the side of the road with a flat. Despite admonitions from the race director at the briefing to stay over to the right, I moved out a little to stay away from any trash that might cause problems. Over the next 10 miles I saw at least a dozen people at the side of the road changing out tubes, and several more as the day went on, but I was lucky and didnt catch any of it.
Id been told that after the first 10-12 miles the course was pretty much flat, but that those first miles were tough. They werent kidding. Coming from a country where most of the roads are very flat, hills are a bit of a nemesis for me, but I was spinning away on my new bike, with a 39/25 and finding them every bit as tough as I thought they would be, if not tougher, having to stand and climb to get up the last of some of them. Looking down at my computer, I could see that my cadence was roughly where I wanted it, but my speed was slower than Id hoped for. The hills must be really tough, so I cranked up the effort a bit, and tried to rely on perceived exertion instead. It felt tough and I was worried about trashing my legs too early, but on each bit of flat I found I could recover ok, so just went with it.
About 8 miles in, I was cranking up a particularly nasty hill when I saw two of either the pros or good age groupers coming down. They were about 3 bike lengths apart, absolutely flying and both screaming wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee at the top of the voices. It made me smile and lightened the climb a little.
After around 12 miles I was ready for the flat. Gradually it dawned on me that flat/rolling has a different meaning here from the one Im used to. This wasnt any sort of flat that Id seen. Flat here, means it goes up, then down and ends at the same level. This was going to be tough. It was going to keep hurting.
By the time I reached the turnaround, I looked at my computer to check the mileage and had a bit of a Homer moment. Doh!! Earlier in the week when I built my new bike up, Id reminded myself that changing from 650 to 700 wheels would mean Id have to recalibrate my computer. Now I realised that I hadnt done that, explaining why the speed and distance were off by a fair margin. Id probably been going a fair bit harder than I should have been, but it was a little late now, so I just pushed on as best I could. I was getting my gels in every 20 minutes and putting the water down me as I always had in training, but my halfway I realised that wasnt what I needed. Back home I sweat about 2 litres an hour in the Borneo heat, but here it was mild and Id been drinking more than I needed. A quick stop at the roadside was called for, even if it meant dropping a minute and I just couldnt bring myself to try and pee on the bike. Once I was more comfortable the ride seemed just a little easier. Turning off the main highway and onto the shady smaller roads providing some welcome relief as the sun had come out and the day was heating up. The long downhill was as much fun as those earlier pros had made it look and I hunkered down on my aerobars, watching for obstacles in the road and just let it fly.
The final grind up the last hill in the sun was hard, as you looked across to see everyone on the run course. I realised that I was a long way back in the main group of people, and for a minute I was a little despondent about still being out on the bike, but thought that it made sense given that wave 10 started about 45 minutes after the lead group, with over a thousand competitors in front of us. Then it was into the final coned off section of downhill to the park, a chance to spin out the legs, stretch the neck and think about the run. The noise and cheers as you come down that final stretch to the dismount was wonderful, the crowd cheering everyone in. As I unclipped and jumped off the bike, I found that, despite being a little stiff, my legs did still work and I even managed a smile for the photographer as I jogged through into transition.
Bike: 3:13:25. Id hoped to break 3 hours, but that was more brutal than I thought it would be.
I changed shoes, grabbed number belt and hat and picked up my tictac box of endurolytes that Id forgotten on the way out to the bike. As you leave transition for the run, you go right past the finish chute, watching exhausted people finishing while knowing you still have 13.1 miles to run. Thats just a little bit cruel. I told myself to just settle down and run slowly, get my legs working slowly and find my pace. I grabbed some water and swallowed a couple of endurolytes then just paced myself out. It was hot and sunny, and I could hear runners around me groaning about the heat but this was actually a good temperature for me as its generally in the 90s and humid back home.
Once again, the Timberman definition of flat was challenged as I found myself grinding up a gentle hill while a stitch developed in my left side at around mile 3. I tried to run through it, tried drinking water, stretching but nothing worked. By mile 4 I was walking. Id planned to just walk the aid stations, but needed the extra few minutes to get rid of the stitch. Well worth it, and I picked up the pace again. As I did so, I fell in alongside a cute tri babe going my pace and we just settled into running together. We chatted a little along the way, until the next aid station where I slowed to grab some water. She looked over her shoulder, called keep up and kept running. Well, what are you going to do? I kept running. We were actually going faster than I would have run on my own and so the push was helpful. As we entered the turnaround, you run parallel to the finish chute, turning off just before the end and going round again. So near and yet so far. Back out onto the second loop, it seemed far longer going out. Perhaps Id been distracted by the side stitch, or just the thought required to keep the legs moving, I dont know, but it was hard work to keep the pace up and I could feel myself fading a little. At the next aid station I started on the pepsi. Ive never had this at a race before, its never been available, but Ive heard that it sometimes has miraculous properties. I needed all the help I could get right now. Looking at my watch I realised that the extra time on the bike leg had cost me dear. Id hoped to break 6 hours, but couldnt see how Id manage that now. I pushed the target to 6:10 and tried to bring the pace up a little. Suzie was still pushing me on but I was having a tough time keeping up. By 9 miles the wheels werent exactly coming off, but the tire pressure was low, so to speak. I was taking water and pepsi at each aid station and feeling a little better, but still slowing down. By mile 10 I stopped to walk the next aid station, telling Suzie Id try and catch her later. 2 cups of pepsi and a 30 second walk and I was moving again. 5 minutes after that and I think the sugar started to kick in as I could feel my legs lifting and the pace came up just a little. I could see Suzie still up ahead near the top of the long hill and she became my target. The next couple of miles was head down and work. I was passing a lot of people now, not fast, but steadily hauling them in and by mile 12 I was level with Suzie again. I looked across Anyone would think you were slacking I joked. She cracked a smile. The pace came up again. The last mile and we were accelerating a little, you could look across the bay and see the finish. No point getting anything at the aid stations now, so we just kept running.
Into the final turn and the finish was ahead. We were passing people still and I found something left in the legs to pick it up a final notch. I tapped Suzie on the shoulder Off you go and she pulled a couple of paces ahead. You want a photo of your own dont you. Hands up, big smile for the camera and across the line. Collect your medal, let them take the chip off while someone wraps a cold wet towel round your shoulders. I hugged Suzie and thanked her for pushing me and keeping me going, grabbed a cold Red Bull then found a railing to collapse against.
Run: 2:05:52
Total: 6:09:45. Thatll do.
Eventually I joined everyone else standing in the lake, easing our legs in the sunshine then raided the food tent, sat and waited for a massage and cheered in the later arrivals.
What did I learn?
Youll always forget something: live with it, it wont be the end of the world. Take the race a section at a time. Keep it manageable. It wont be as bad as you think it will.
Timberman far exceeded the hype. Hands down, the best race Ive ever attended and the one most obviously thought out by a triathlete who knows what racers want. If youve read this far and you are even mildly tempted just enter for next year, you wont regret it.
Coming in from abroad, on my own, I met many great people over the weekend. From the TNO and Slowtwitch forum members to just milling around chatting with those around me. Triathletes are one of the most welcoming groups of people Ive ever been involved with, and our community is just that, no matter how far and wide we may be spread, when we come together for a common purpose theyre all just friends we havent met yet.
J.
Stats:
Place Age Div/Tot Div Gen/Tot
691 39 106/168 M35-39 538/844
Swim Pace Tran1 Rank
44:07 36:46 4:25 885
Bike Rate Tran2 Rank
3:13:24 17.4 1:59 462
Run Pace Final
2:05:52 9:37 6:09:45
long first transition due to portajohn stop.