2009 Savageman Race Report
I’ll begin by saying that I have never had as much anxiety leading up to a triathlon as I did the Savageman Half-Ironman. My training partner and I previewed the bike course in July and by the time we rolled into the finishing area we sure didn’t feel like hopping off and running 13.1 miles. I was hopeful that another 2 months of training would help, but, still, this halfIM bike course was clearly going to be the most challenging I have ever ridden.
Swim: I, and the other elderly folks (40+) went off in wave four. Heading right into the sun, I know that I deviated a bit. This became quite clear to me when I heard a kayaker yelling to me to “swim left.” I know what you’re thinking “how did he know that the kayacker was yelling at him?” Easy, I swam into his paddle. With a couple of hard left arm pulls I was back on course and heading towards the large blow up turtle. I must be honest, the blow up turtle, as campy as it was, turned out to be a great turn-around marker. Circling the great beast I then headed back towards the huge Swan-shaped boat located that the opposite end of the swim course, and due to it’s largeness and brightness, I sensed I was now sighting better. Turtles and Swans you ask? Quite a paradox! Slow pace and elegant beauty? Actually with a time of 32 mins, perhaps I was the embodiment of a turtle. But, I’m quite sure I was never elegant during the race!
T1: I never make it a point to sit down in any T1. But, the wetsuit was stuck and I was dizzy. With a fear of knocking down other bikes on the rack, or the rack itself, I planted myself solidly on the ground and began to tear at the left over wetsuit suckage. Then, with bike shoes on, a light vest, along with the complimentary arm warmers, and I was on my way!
Bike: You have to love the volunteers and the spectators at this race. As I left T1 and began my first climb on toothpick drive, a nasty little effort that “reminds you that you’re doing savageman,” I passed what looked like a very interested and engaged family sitting at the first turn on Toothpick. I said hello and asked if this was the only steep hill on the course. I got some laughs, but, then grandpa says “you got a stupid looking helmet.” NICE! The abuse, both physical and emotional, was just beginning, and these fine folks were clearly on board for the occasion.
The next 16 miles was a fairly rapid descent into the idyllic town of westernport, with unique papermill architecture and accompanying odor serving as pure inspiration and motivation… to get the hell out of there! As I passed other racers, I would ask them if they were ready for the upcoming “wall.” Many chucked nervously, while one yelled “bring it on”. I’ll admit, I was nervous. It was looming and the closer I got to the left turn to begin the infamous climb the more trepidation I felt. But we triathletes are addicted to pain, we search out the limits, we want to be pushed. As you cross the timing mats and turn the corner, the wall appears. And, it is visually intimidating. Four street levels of increasing pain and suffering, ending with a 31% grade up broken road surface that reminds one of a geological fault line in concrete. Amidst spectators screaming, Van Halen’s “Running with the Devil” blasting over a speakers, and bikers to my right and left, I chose my final line. In my 28 rear gear, I pushed hard while also trying to avoid zipp wheel spin (how often do we have to worry about that?). Screams of support, a friend running along side yelling “you go it, you got it, my heart rate skyrocketing… yes indeed, my Elite razor and I made it up, “I’ll get my brick” I thought, only to then begin the true sufferfest of the Savageman bike course… the next 38 miles!
One climb after another comes at you, with accompanying signage pointing out the duration of each climb and its respective gradient. It’s relentless. Then comes Killer Miller, a brutal ascent averaging a gradient of 25%. Early on this climb I passed a racer who said that she saw a cow being birthed the day before while practicing on this stretch of the course. I asked her if she thought it to be a good sign. Unfortunately, I couldn’t hear her response due to my pounding heart, the wall of sweat dripping off my face, and the onset of cramping of my left adductor. I was suffering at this point and I knew it. At these points in the race, and there were many, I would often wonder how far ahead was my training partner? How was he feeling? Was he having an epic ride, having trained on the course more than I? Or was in the depths of sufferhell like me? Then, an Angel appeared, well, a slowtwitcher named fitzie who had on wire wings and something in her hair. As she ran along side me I told her that I was “vabill” from the slowtwitch forum and that I thought it was great what she was doing. She replied “I can’t believe I did this race last year.” I mumbled back to her during my first peak of oxygen debt “I can’t believe I’m doing this race now.” What I really wanted to say was “can you at least run along side of me so I actually feel like I’m biking?” There was great support at Killer Miller – Devils, Angels, and some guy with a camera. Actually, there were so many people taking pictures at this event that I suspect my overall time was improved given the amount of form adjustments I made to ensure better photos!
The miles clicked by slowly until I finally rolled into T2. Seeing Meg and kids is always a boost. The guilt associated with training or trying to make vacations out of a stress filled race weekend all seems to wash away when the cowbells are clanging and the family is cheering. Then, I’m out of sight for 45 minutes and they begin questioning it all over again. For the bike, I barely broke 3:30, and, it speaks volumes that I have never looked more forward to running a half marathon than at the finish of this bike course! With discarded arm warmers, I laced up, grabbed some hydration, and headed out.
Run: The savageman half run course is filled with beautiful views of the lake and bordering forest. What is also beautiful are aid stations stocked with snacks, drinks and smiling volunteers. I felt good. Starting out I passed some racers, I felt smooth, and I visualized the course in four, doable 5K chunks. Yes there were some hills, with one memorable half-mile section of fire road that became a real walk/run portion of the course for many athletes. But I have to say, the miles clicked by. I saw my training partner Trey just after going through my first 5K. I wasn’t sure how far he was ahead in time but I knew he was out of reach. We have had some epic battles over the years, our own Mark Allen/Dave Scott moments so to speak. When we’re both on, we can be seconds apart. But not this day… He had a stronger effort in the swim and bike, and his third place overall finish in the 40-44 group was well deserved. I was, however, struck by his odd reaction when I asked if I could borrow his 3rd place award so I could scan it and use photoshop to insert my name as 4th place winner. Although I age up next year, our battles will continue. For a complete list of Bill/Trey race stats/standings, go to www.imfasterthanyounoimfasterthanyou.com
So, in the end, I managed to take 4th in the 40-44 age group with a total time of 6:01 and change. For those time weenies out there, I really did try to break 6 hours, and I’m quite sure I negative splitted the half mary, but it was not meant to be. Too much acreage to cover when I saw 5:58:48 on my watch (it’s funny how we remember certain numbers), and my left hamstring was begging me for a deep tissue massage. But, considering how much I suffered on the bike. I was very pleased with the results.
This is a great race, and I encourage all the folks who are thinking about racing it next year to sign up. The event centers around beating Melenoma, and, as I understand it, all proceeds from the race go to support this important cause. They even had dermatologists at Sunday’s venue to check out suspect moles, bumps, etc. The race is very well organized, it is extremely challenging, and so rewarding when you cross the finish line. Props to the race organizer(s), volunteers, and of course my angel at Killer Miller!
Bill
