While I am not one to typically create new year resolutions (tried, they fail), when 2009 came around I created a goals for myself as a 40th “birthday” present…get a PR (personal record) in a triathlon (check), run a half-marathon (check) and complete the NYC Marathon (on its 40th birthday too). On Sunday, November 1st the last item on my list was checked. Completed done. I ran an actual marathon and not just any marathon, the NYC Marathon. And while I did it a tad slower than initially sought, nonetheless, I completed it. It was harder than anything I have done before, but glad I did it and run “for” two affiliations – Asphalt Green Tri Club (AGTC) and The Challenged Athletes Foundation (CAF).
This tale does require a tad more of a lead into it than my other recaps, so read on if you’re into the details or stop now if you got what you needed from the first paragraph.
Marathon Prep: a mental and physical game plan
Throughout my training, several marathon veterans – especially Coach Neil Cook who trained me for the race -- offered me essential advice on everything from controlling my pace, when to do long runs, nutrition, etc. My friend Rob told me that preparing for a marathon (he’s a veteran of a few) was part mental and part physical. Boy was he right. Rob summed it up this way for me, “you have run over 1,000 training miles to run 26.2…you can do this.” Having done the training (thanks to Coach Neil and running partners Vic, Regina, Liz and others, who kept me sane during 20-mile runs), the week before the Marathon was tough combining nutrition planning (thanks Michele and Mary Ellen for answering inane questions) to ensure my body was properly fueled for race day and mental readiness – relaxing, visualizing crossing the line at Tavern on the Green – and resting on Saturday just chilling and watching mindless TV (thanks Alexander for the tip). Special recognition goes to the Korff Enterprises gang – Hunter, Brittany, Victoria and Linsey for the corbo-loading lunches and getting my family into Columbus Circle (more on that later) and of course John Korff for his Marathon Tips of the Day for cracking me up when I could have been freaking out.
I didn’t expect to be as crazy at work as I was the week before the race, but sometimes you cannot control everything (Type “A” anyone?). With three programs to plan for and a visit from our new head of the U.S., there was no choice to focus on something other than running. Thursday I made it to the Javitz to register (no turning back now) and to pick up credentials for the NYPD Running Team (which, thanks to Rob, got us access to a special bus which left midtown at 7am and dropped us off in a special waiting area on Staten Island). There I saw my friend Sarah Reinertsen at the Rock & Roll Marathon booth who was singing copies of her book (In a Single Bound – read it if you haven’t yet), and Stacey Skole – another marathon vet – both of whom gave me some more tips about the weather (it was a 50/50 chance of rain at that point), where to keep gels, et al. That night I met AGTC teammates and friends Reveka and Richard for another practice run down 5th Ave to the finish line and head home.
Friday was another crazy day at work. Mid morning Ken Podziba, a friend and the NYC Sports Commissioner, who helped to secure my entry for the race arranged for a special luggage pick-up back at Javitz – so back I head after work – but this time my friend Sari offered to go with me and then have a light dinner with Sarah. 9pm back home and crash. T-minus one…Saturday. The day was a basic wash…big breakfast as Michele suggested, TV watching (Alexander’s tip) and hydrating before heading off to a 4:30pm dinner with fellow Reach the Beach Teammates Liz and Brad. Home by 7:30pm, no Yankee game on because of a rain delay (we all knows how that one turns out), last check on gear for next day, breakfast laid out, ½ an ambien down and off to bed.
Race Day
Marathon Day…dah dah…arrives with a 5:15am alarm. I get up (fully rested from the ambien and day-light savings extra hour), have coffee, shower, get dressed and head off to meet Regina and her roommate Kristen before heading out to the bus pick-u area (see above). We meet up with the Reach the Beach gang who are also running – Liz, Steve, Brad, and Maryellen, board the bus and we’re off to Staten Island.
The NYC Marathon is massive with close to 42,000 people who start the race (I think about 41,000 people actually finish). Now imagine all of those people milling about, tossing gels, clothing and water bottles all over the place and they prepare for their race. Now imagine trying to find your spot in a corral system comprised of three start times (I was lucky with a 9:40am start), three colors (I was green) and seven waves per start time (I was in “E”). Regina, Maryellen and I were all in Green “E” but still had a hard time finding where we entered the start. After a lot of pushing, yelling “start wave 1” we made it into the lower level of the Verrazano Bridge in time to shed my sweat pants and line-up. All of the sudden, Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” – a marathon tradition – starts to play signaling the start of the Marathon. I am actually about the begin the NYC Marathon – what did I get myself into? Well, I made it to the start line, now all I need to do it make it to the finish line in one piece.
I had three goals for the race. Finish, with a smile, and in about 4-hours. As long as I got the first two, the last one was a bonus. Neil suggested that I think of the marathon as three runs -- two 10-mile runs and a 10k (6.2 miles). To make it to the finish line in relatively little pain (I knew and was told there would be pain) he suggested I run the first ten miles at a conservatively pace, gradually increase speed during the second and run with whatever I had left (or “reckless abandon”) during the last 6.2. He also said to listen to my body and take a GU (the gel of my choice), salt tablets when I felt it was right and to drink early and often so that I had no hydration issues later on in the race.
The first two miles – over the Bridge (goodbye Staten Island, hello Brooklyn) were tame – in truth you really have no choice as it’s crowded and people are talking to shed the nervous energy (opposite to the start of a triathlon where no one really speaks – guess speaking and swimming are hard to do at the same time). Regina and I (Maryellen took off) run into Reveka (she is easy to spot in her Team in Training shirt/hat) and the three of us get onto a rhythm. The first 5k was a steady 9:20-9:25 pace as I let others pass me and continue to drink at every aid station. Around the 10k mark I comment to Regina “6 down, 20 to go” and encourage her to take off and run her own race (Reveka is on her own doing the “Gallo method” combining a run/walk pace).
I heard there is nothing like the NYC Marathon from a runner’s perspective. I gotta say the reality does indeed live up to the myth. With the amazing field of spectators smiling, cheering, offering oranges, bananas, water and ringing cow-bells, the first ten miles went by pretty quick – I kept looking at my Garmin to make sure I wasn’t going too fast – and counting down the distance to go (“6 down, 20.2 miles to go…”). As we ran down 4th Avenue in Brooklyn, I kept seeing hints of the Manhattan skyline. I honestly can say I do not remember every mile was like, nor do I have any idea what neighborhood we passed through. I do remember a few key things: a fellow marathoner going to the side and asking a cop how she can get out as she’s done, churches playing music, crowds cheering us on yelling “come on Justin” (I had my name on my shirt – a good thing at times) and enjoying the experience of seeing the diversity of this City. There are also some really cool bands along the course and for runners like me who don’t race with an ipod, the music from the street, coupled with paying attention to my cadence (the times I turn over my stride) and breathing keeps me focused on running.
The reality of the distance set in around Mile 12 as we were still in Brooklyn (it is one big borough) and still not at the half-way point. Approaching the 2-hour mark, I finally hit the Polanski Bridge taking us from Brooklyn and into Queens and past the half-marathon (13.1 miles) point. Off the Bridge and into Long Island City (I think) where my friend Kara said she was going to be. As I look for her in the crowd – actually any friendly face would do at this point -- I stat to increase my speed a bit. I see more of Manhattan in the distance as well as the 59th Street which means we’re close to Mile 16. Goodbye Queens….Hello Manhattan.
The 59th Street Bridge was perhaps one of the loneliest and creepiest places along the entire route. Imagine going from cheering crowds to the sound of silence in a blink of an eye (maybe this is what Simon and Garfunkel were talking about). Imagine hundreds of runners no speaking a word and the only sound you hear is breathing, stomping feet, cars above you and an occasional subway train on your right up a short, but steady climb. The Bridge plateaus over Roosevelt Island and we start our downward slope into the craziness that is First Avenue.
Being a newbie at the NYC Marathon, I asked my parents and Ruth to be on 60th Street and First Avenue to give me a much needed push (truth is the thought of seeing my family got me through the mental hardship of the Bridge). Boy that was a stupid idea as I kept scanning and scanning the crowd, but couldn’t see them anywhere….damn (it turns out that I actually stared right at them, but completely missed them in the crowd). I don’t know how runner could have found anyone they knew unless they were wearing bright neon green!
First Avenue from 59th – 98th Street is wall-to-wall spectators. It is an amazing sight and really hard not to get caught up in the moment and run faster to give the crowd what they want…speed. It takes a lot of energy to keep a steady pace (after all, the first step into Manhattan is only about Mile 16…which meant we had 10 more miles to go). The good thing about being in Manhattan is that you can count blocks; 20 blocks = one mile = one mile closer to the finish line. So as I count the blocks, I take in more liquid, eat GU and continue to look for familiar faces in the crowd. Time check: 3 hours…close to being on target for the third goal. Up First Avenue I go (it’s actually kind of hilly) as I approach the aid station at Mile 18 where Asphalt Green had a large contingency. I knew Rob and Tom were somewhere on the right hand side so I make my way over there and look for friends. I see Randi and Paul, but no one else (turns out they were on the other side of the street). I see Rob and Tom in the distance – he’s hard to miss especially ringing his large cow bell. I stop give them a high-five and complain that this is fking hard as I hand them my sunglasses and gloves (something I didn’t need as it was pleasant, but not sunny out). Off to Harlem I go….19 miles down, 7.2 to go…I am going to finish this thing.
I ran the last 10 miles of the Race a few weeks back so knew the route…over the Willis Avenue Bridge into the Bronx for about a mile and then on home via the Madison Avenue Bridge to Fifth Avenue. The Willis Avenue Bridge has a few grated spots on it which the race organizers cover with some type of non-slip carpeting. While it is a nice change from the hard asphalt we have been on for over three-hours, it is far from comfortable. As we enter the Bronx, another Marathon myth comes into focus – the dreaded wall when you realize the enormity of what you have done, but remember that you’re not home yet. At this point it takes a lot to keep lifting your feet to move forward, but I am not going to let the wall get me… I keep telling myself don’t walk, “focus on the runner ahead of you”, lift your feet, all of the Neil buzz words as I hear the Rocky theme song from the crowd of spectators. Suddenly the Bronx is coming to an end (goodbye) as we trudge over the Madison Avenue Bridge. Friends Kara (another Kara for those paying attention) and Alexandra said they’d be near Kara’s apartment right off the Bridge so as I get to the crest, I make my way over to the right to try and see them waving and cheering me on.
As I make my way around Marcus Garvey Park, the mythical wall hits me like a ton of bricks and suddenly lifting running is painful. My pace is dropping and my time is increasing. I scoot over to the side so I can walk a bit…keep going forward, one step at a time …just don’t stop. Mile 22…a little more than four to go…I can do this. Spectators keep cheering me on, encouraging me to keep running (I wish I could) as I run/walk my way down Fifth Avenue in a battle of mind over matter. The start to run again, eat a half of a GU (I don’t want stomach issues this close to the finish) as I reach the top of Central Park. Fifth Avenue from 110th – 90th Street is a one-mile steady climb – something you do not feel unless you’re running it (or on a bike) until we enter Central Park and head south to the finish line. On our training run the other night, Richard recommended counting down the blocks from 110th – 90th Streets – taking one block at a time. Ahead of me I see nothing but a line of people going up Fifth…I am going to make this even if I have to I run/walk some more.
Suddenly I am at the 90th Street and enter the Park…I am homeward bound…on turf I know and have run hundreds of times. I know every groove, every bump, where I can coast down and when I can speed up. Every stride has some pain, but the finish line is so close I can taste it. Behind the Met Museum, past Cat Hill, past the Boat Basin, up near East 72nd Street…crowds getting louder and louder and the finish line is every so close. At This point I am mostly running with a few seconds of walking as Mile 25 comes into sight…1.2 to go…past the Central Park Zoo, out to near the Plaza Hotel and onto Central Park South.
I am lucky to have friends who have the right jobs; the Korff crew let family (at this point plus my sister) into the band area in Columbus Circle to see me about to finish the Race. I knew this was a prime spot to see people entering the Park as that is where I watched Julie and Chuck Freeman complete their marathon in 2008. 800 and Meters to go as I see the Band and the Stage near Columbus Circle and then I see my mother, sister, Ruth and Linsey at the barricades. Hitting the four hour mark has long past so I decide to a hug from each of them is much more important before heading off to the finish line. They yell at me to move on and to finish as I make my way back into Central Park, and up the last incline to the finish. 400 meters, 200 meters, 100 meters…I raise my hands over my head and cross the finish line.
After crossing the finish line, getting the hardware, I make my way to meet my family. Everyone I pass says congratulations from dog walkers, to police men to spectators. We head back to my apartment where my father was waiting…a much needed ice bath, a hamburger than never tasted so good…a champagne toast…I just need a minute to take it all in…. I did it…I finished the NYC Marathon and 4:14…not sure if that’s a good or bad time, but I’ll take it. It was 26.2 miles of pain, but also seeing my city in a very different way.
Before I leave, you , I just a moment to thank everyone for all of their support and encouragement along the way. Too many people to name, but you all know who you are.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Reach the Beach (2009)...207 miles...26 hours and 47 minutes...and an amazing adventure
Last weekend, as part of my constant quest to try something new, I and 11 others had an adventure of a lifetime: We ran (yes ran) 207 miles from the middle of New Hampshire to the Hampton’s Beach on the Eastern part (I think) of the state in a little over 26 hours. Why in the world would someone want to do that you ask? Why not!
To further explain, we were about to experience “Reach the Beach” (or RTB for those needing some lingo): a 200+ mile relay run race taking us from one area of Northern NH to Hampton’s Beach in another. It is a point-to-point race comprised of 36 stages. Those competing can be part of an ultra team of 4-6 people (yes you read that right—those peeps are crazy) or teams of 8-12 people (we opted for this team—the more reasonable choice) and can be comprised of all men, all women, mixed or co-ed (I am not really sure of the difference between the two, but apparently there is one). While there are the crazy Ultra Teams, the majority of us did RTB for fun. In as such, we took creative liberties with our name (“Cradle Robbers”) and our vans (see photos below). RTB also had a series of rules which were harsh and, if broken, came with extreme penalties (disqualification for mooning for example – something we thought we’d get nabbed for).
For teams with 12-people, each runner is assigned a number (1-12) earmarking the leg he runs. In our case, we had 6 people in each van (Van 1 with runners 1-6 – Liz (our Captain), Regina, Tom, Kaitlin, Rob and Franco) and Van 2 with runners 7-12 - Niall, Brad, me, Mary Ellen, Steve and Sara). In theory, the only times the two vans would be parked in the same spot is when runner 6 handed the relay strap to runner 7. Being runner #9 meant I was running legs #9, #21 and # 33. The vans served as our homes – and our van-mates as our roommates – for the next 24+ hours. Each van followed the course to drop off, and pick up runners as they start and finish a leg. Our bathrooms would be porta potties and showers weren’t happening. Boy this is going to be fun… “a great adventure” I kept reminding myself.
Our journey began mid-Thursday when Van 1 of the Cradle Robbers (35+ year old men racing on a team with 28-year-old women) departed NYC for a 6+ hour trip north. After a hit and run in Costco and a meal at Applebee’s (I get why America is fat now), we arrive in a place where no city-dweller has been before. A little after 11 p.m., Van 2 with the remaining Cradle or Robbers arrived; we all then hit the sack.
Friday a.m.: We all wake from a somewhat restful night. Twelve of us spread out over two large condos: some on Murphy Beds, some on couches. We go to our respective vans to stock our supplies from Costco (I highly recommend the trail mix in case you have never had it), water, Gatorade, sleeping bags, folding cots, clothing, and the much needed headlamps and reflective vests (more on that later). We head to a local diner, scarf down what could be our last real meal for a while, and head to the race start. When we left NYC on Thursday, it wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cold. Well… NH was fking cold. Cold as in “jackets and layers” cold…and “it’s raining and we’re on top of a mountain” cold.
Getting to the start, we sized up the competition. The Ultra Gays (yes, that is right) had us beat, but perhaps we could get the Victorious Secret group (a team we would wind up doing battle with along the course). The other teams from Asphalt Green including two Ultras; a woman’s team and a men’s one (Fat Guys Don’t Bonk) as well as another 12-person relay team -- AGTC 1 (a lame name). After taking some time to decorate Vans 1 and 2, we head over to the start of the race. Each team started in different waves depending on the average of each runner’s half-marathon pace. The theory behind this is that the faster teams would eventually catch-up or get close to the slower teams (which started earlier) and we’d all finish around the 24- to 29-hour mark. The Cradle Robbers were scheduled to go off at 1:20 p.m. …1:26 (NH time), Liz starts running. See you at some point, Liz.
Now I am sure the runners in Van 1 have their own stories, but this is my perspective from Van 2.
Each van pulls out of the start and we decide to see how Liz is doing by parking somewhere along the side of the road (this is allowed). As it’s early afternoon and we estimate our van would not need to start to run until ~ 8 pm, we go to almost every transition to cheer our teammates on. At one point, we decide it’s probably a good idea to eat something – solid food instead of trail mix-- so we pull into a deli to get sandwiches. Mary Ellen comes into the store and tells us Steve hit his head on the van. Since I have my food, I go out and check on him. Thankfully, he cleaned up the worst of it, but apparently hitting your head on the back doors of a van can create a gash in one’s head and where this is a gash, there is blood. We get out the first aid kit and check to make sure the wound is clotting. While he says he’s fine, we make Steve lie down on the back seat to be sure. At transition 5 (where Rob hands off to Franco), we pull into the transition to see about some medical care for Steve (to be on the safe side). While waiting for the transfer, someone from the medical side helps to bandage Steve up. Steve says he’s ok, and is prepared to run so we drive to the 6th transition area to wait our turn to run.
One of the RTB rules stipulates that any runner on the road between 7 pm and 7am must wear reflective vests, lights and a headlamp (all of which would come in handy). While I am not really clear what time he started, at some point Franco comes into sight and hands off the relay wrist band to Niall…our van is now on the stage. We pull out and leave van 1 on their own (we’ll see you at Transition 12). Niall storms out (boy he’s fast) and we pull up along side of him to see if he’s ok….all good we head to transition to wait for him to come in to hand off to Brad; shit I am next. Knowing that I would probably be running throughout the night, I opted to wear tights (a bad choice in the end) and my long sleeve Cradle Robbers shirt. I do some of Coach Neil’s warm-ups (jumps, fast feet, etc.) and prepare to start my leg. I see Brad coming in, I turn on the headlamp, make sure the reflective lights are on and as Brad calls my name and hands me the wrist band, I take off.
The leg was “billed” as an easy 3.53 mile run. And while short and relatively flat (with one big hill), running in the dark with only a headlamp for light is, well, kind of scary and strange. Now I never really lead races so typically do not have to worry about knowing where to go (there is always someone to follow), but as we seemed to have caught up to slower start groups, I start to pass more and more runners and suddenly I am in front; I hope I don’t lead anyone into the wrong place. Keep following the road and place one foot after another…I’m bound to hit the end sometime. I near the end of this stretch, see the transition area, yell Mary Ellen a few times and hand her my wrist band. Time check: approx, 26 minutes. Well that wasn’t too bad… No time to stretch as we need to pick up Mary Ellen and drop off Steve (running with a taped up head). All is ok as Steve comes in and we drop off Sara and head out again; we pick up Sara – but got to her transition a little late after getting lost, but at least Van 1 was there to keep her company. As Sara gets into the Van, we decide it probably best to go straight to the rest area (stage/leg 18); it is approx. midnight by now and our Niall probably doesn’t have to start to run until 3:00am; time to get some sleep. We re-arrange the van so that we can crash on the seats. I take one row, Sara and Mary Ellen the others. Steve crashes in the driver side, Niall in the passenger and Brad opts for a sleeping bag – outside. The van is silent as we rest. 2:15am the blackberry alarms go off and we start to wake up (well most of us do). We get out, and wait for Franco to come in to hand off the Niall (you get the idea). Niall goes, then Brad and then me…Time check; 5:15am. I see Brad coming in from a 9+ mile run (one of the hardest stages) and I’m off on my 7.26 mile journey.
Again in the dark…again passing people, I step on something squishy on the side of the road…I really don’t want to know what that was….This stage was billed a moderate/hard – and indeed it was. Some gradual, but somewhat long hills, I pass more people and see some tiny reflective lights ahead; I think that may be fellow runners. It’s getting a little lighter out, but is still considered night and I am once again glad I have a headlamp on to help guide me. As I looked at the course before, I knew I had one big climb followed by a big drop and then some rolling bumps and a small hill before I finish. The up goes well when suddenly I am going downhill – and going downhill pretty fast. Normally I lean into the hills to relax the legs letting my body weight help carry me down the hill. But this hill is so steep, I need to lean up to be sure I don’t tumble forward…Hitting some flat ground and onto the shoulder of the main road, I hit a stride and continue to pass people (I am up to 10 passes so far and am only passed once). I hit the last small climb, see the flashing lights of the transition area, once again yell for Mary Ellen and I’m done (58 mins). I am not sure if I am loving this experience. This could be a one-time, “bucket list” experience like some of the triathlons I have done or it could be one of the best experiences I have had…Guess I’ll reserve judgment.
We hop into the van and head to the next stage; I think you get the general idea by now. Sara finishes….The boys need food and the girls need to sleep. After what seems like an hour drive, we find some country kitchen (long story of trying to find someplace) and eat. While van 1 finishes their last 6 legs, we opt to drive to the last main transition area to wait for Franco to finish. It is light out now and we’re free to run w/o our vests (!). The last 6-legs requires a bit of strategy as Brad’s, my, and Mary Ellen’s legs are pretty short – 2.2, 1.99 and 3.2 respectively. Given the fact that there will be traffic, in order to avoid missing the handoff, we decide to drop off the three of us before hand and have the second van pick-us up. This proves to be the smart move. While we wait, I chat up Mary Arnold from the girl’s ultra team (damn, they’re almost done) who tells me the boys ultra team (fat guys don’t bonk) have long past and are probably close to, if not already done. Damn….
Franco comes in for the handoff to Niall which means that we have 30 legs down and 6 to go…are we close to a fking beach yet? Niall is off and so are we. Brad gets dropped, then I get out of the car and wait…do my Neil warm-ups and prepare. This is my last leg and a short one at only 1.99. I want to run “balls to the wall”, red-line all of the way so that when I finish, I have nothing left in my tank. I have done 6-min. miles during the speed class, but that is in a controlled environment on a flat running track. 6-min miles is not realistic, but I know that my body has some gas left in the tank. As I wait, other runners come in and as we predicted (correctly) their vans with the subsequent runner has not reached transitions…suckers. Other teams enter the transition area and I wait for Brad to appear. Within a few minutes, Brad shows up and I grab the wrist band and take off. I start to pass more and more runners – keeping someone ahead as a target. I hold up my hand when nearing an intersection – not allowing cars to pass in front of me (maybe not the smartest move, but hey, I am going at all cylinders now). I run, pass more people, and focus on breathing and the finish line. I glance down at my watch – 12 mins on my feet, I should be close… I see runners already of me on the other side of the street…I am close as those must be people in Mary Ellen’s leg. I turn and look for a finish line…I guess I am too focused as I turn into a parking lot and nearly miss the finish line….I yell, where’s the finish to anyone…Someone points behind me…I quickly turn around, jump over a ditch and see Rob calling me in. Head down, I find one last gear and sprint past another runner yelling for Mary Ellen for the last time. Done! 1.99 miles in 13.5 mins…wow…I have nothing left in me.
The next hour+ is a bit of a blur. I recall us go to the last leg to get Steve and wish Sara good luck on her last leg. I remember my heart-rate finally getting down to normal (or my heart not feeling as if it’s coming out of my chest). I remember finally getting to the beach and seeing Sara and us all running in together to the finish line in a total of 26 hours, 48 minutes and some change….Wow what a rush crossing that finish line knowing that the team, together, accomplished something major.
We head to the motel (what could be a Bates Model) in Hampton’s Beach, get cleaned up (the shower was almost as scary as the motel itself (I guess a real shower will need to wait another 12+ hours), have some beers, food and hit the sack. 5:30am on Sunday, we make the 5+ hour drive home.
Well looking back on this, RTB was definitely an adventure…and one which I cannot wait to do again. Cradle Robbers Revenge coming in 2010!
To further explain, we were about to experience “Reach the Beach” (or RTB for those needing some lingo): a 200+ mile relay run race taking us from one area of Northern NH to Hampton’s Beach in another. It is a point-to-point race comprised of 36 stages. Those competing can be part of an ultra team of 4-6 people (yes you read that right—those peeps are crazy) or teams of 8-12 people (we opted for this team—the more reasonable choice) and can be comprised of all men, all women, mixed or co-ed (I am not really sure of the difference between the two, but apparently there is one). While there are the crazy Ultra Teams, the majority of us did RTB for fun. In as such, we took creative liberties with our name (“Cradle Robbers”) and our vans (see photos below). RTB also had a series of rules which were harsh and, if broken, came with extreme penalties (disqualification for mooning for example – something we thought we’d get nabbed for).
For teams with 12-people, each runner is assigned a number (1-12) earmarking the leg he runs. In our case, we had 6 people in each van (Van 1 with runners 1-6 – Liz (our Captain), Regina, Tom, Kaitlin, Rob and Franco) and Van 2 with runners 7-12 - Niall, Brad, me, Mary Ellen, Steve and Sara). In theory, the only times the two vans would be parked in the same spot is when runner 6 handed the relay strap to runner 7. Being runner #9 meant I was running legs #9, #21 and # 33. The vans served as our homes – and our van-mates as our roommates – for the next 24+ hours. Each van followed the course to drop off, and pick up runners as they start and finish a leg. Our bathrooms would be porta potties and showers weren’t happening. Boy this is going to be fun… “a great adventure” I kept reminding myself.
Our journey began mid-Thursday when Van 1 of the Cradle Robbers (35+ year old men racing on a team with 28-year-old women) departed NYC for a 6+ hour trip north. After a hit and run in Costco and a meal at Applebee’s (I get why America is fat now), we arrive in a place where no city-dweller has been before. A little after 11 p.m., Van 2 with the remaining Cradle or Robbers arrived; we all then hit the sack.
Friday a.m.: We all wake from a somewhat restful night. Twelve of us spread out over two large condos: some on Murphy Beds, some on couches. We go to our respective vans to stock our supplies from Costco (I highly recommend the trail mix in case you have never had it), water, Gatorade, sleeping bags, folding cots, clothing, and the much needed headlamps and reflective vests (more on that later). We head to a local diner, scarf down what could be our last real meal for a while, and head to the race start. When we left NYC on Thursday, it wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cold. Well… NH was fking cold. Cold as in “jackets and layers” cold…and “it’s raining and we’re on top of a mountain” cold.
Getting to the start, we sized up the competition. The Ultra Gays (yes, that is right) had us beat, but perhaps we could get the Victorious Secret group (a team we would wind up doing battle with along the course). The other teams from Asphalt Green including two Ultras; a woman’s team and a men’s one (Fat Guys Don’t Bonk) as well as another 12-person relay team -- AGTC 1 (a lame name). After taking some time to decorate Vans 1 and 2, we head over to the start of the race. Each team started in different waves depending on the average of each runner’s half-marathon pace. The theory behind this is that the faster teams would eventually catch-up or get close to the slower teams (which started earlier) and we’d all finish around the 24- to 29-hour mark. The Cradle Robbers were scheduled to go off at 1:20 p.m. …1:26 (NH time), Liz starts running. See you at some point, Liz.
Now I am sure the runners in Van 1 have their own stories, but this is my perspective from Van 2.
Each van pulls out of the start and we decide to see how Liz is doing by parking somewhere along the side of the road (this is allowed). As it’s early afternoon and we estimate our van would not need to start to run until ~ 8 pm, we go to almost every transition to cheer our teammates on. At one point, we decide it’s probably a good idea to eat something – solid food instead of trail mix-- so we pull into a deli to get sandwiches. Mary Ellen comes into the store and tells us Steve hit his head on the van. Since I have my food, I go out and check on him. Thankfully, he cleaned up the worst of it, but apparently hitting your head on the back doors of a van can create a gash in one’s head and where this is a gash, there is blood. We get out the first aid kit and check to make sure the wound is clotting. While he says he’s fine, we make Steve lie down on the back seat to be sure. At transition 5 (where Rob hands off to Franco), we pull into the transition to see about some medical care for Steve (to be on the safe side). While waiting for the transfer, someone from the medical side helps to bandage Steve up. Steve says he’s ok, and is prepared to run so we drive to the 6th transition area to wait our turn to run.
One of the RTB rules stipulates that any runner on the road between 7 pm and 7am must wear reflective vests, lights and a headlamp (all of which would come in handy). While I am not really clear what time he started, at some point Franco comes into sight and hands off the relay wrist band to Niall…our van is now on the stage. We pull out and leave van 1 on their own (we’ll see you at Transition 12). Niall storms out (boy he’s fast) and we pull up along side of him to see if he’s ok….all good we head to transition to wait for him to come in to hand off to Brad; shit I am next. Knowing that I would probably be running throughout the night, I opted to wear tights (a bad choice in the end) and my long sleeve Cradle Robbers shirt. I do some of Coach Neil’s warm-ups (jumps, fast feet, etc.) and prepare to start my leg. I see Brad coming in, I turn on the headlamp, make sure the reflective lights are on and as Brad calls my name and hands me the wrist band, I take off.
The leg was “billed” as an easy 3.53 mile run. And while short and relatively flat (with one big hill), running in the dark with only a headlamp for light is, well, kind of scary and strange. Now I never really lead races so typically do not have to worry about knowing where to go (there is always someone to follow), but as we seemed to have caught up to slower start groups, I start to pass more and more runners and suddenly I am in front; I hope I don’t lead anyone into the wrong place. Keep following the road and place one foot after another…I’m bound to hit the end sometime. I near the end of this stretch, see the transition area, yell Mary Ellen a few times and hand her my wrist band. Time check: approx, 26 minutes. Well that wasn’t too bad… No time to stretch as we need to pick up Mary Ellen and drop off Steve (running with a taped up head). All is ok as Steve comes in and we drop off Sara and head out again; we pick up Sara – but got to her transition a little late after getting lost, but at least Van 1 was there to keep her company. As Sara gets into the Van, we decide it probably best to go straight to the rest area (stage/leg 18); it is approx. midnight by now and our Niall probably doesn’t have to start to run until 3:00am; time to get some sleep. We re-arrange the van so that we can crash on the seats. I take one row, Sara and Mary Ellen the others. Steve crashes in the driver side, Niall in the passenger and Brad opts for a sleeping bag – outside. The van is silent as we rest. 2:15am the blackberry alarms go off and we start to wake up (well most of us do). We get out, and wait for Franco to come in to hand off the Niall (you get the idea). Niall goes, then Brad and then me…Time check; 5:15am. I see Brad coming in from a 9+ mile run (one of the hardest stages) and I’m off on my 7.26 mile journey.
Again in the dark…again passing people, I step on something squishy on the side of the road…I really don’t want to know what that was….This stage was billed a moderate/hard – and indeed it was. Some gradual, but somewhat long hills, I pass more people and see some tiny reflective lights ahead; I think that may be fellow runners. It’s getting a little lighter out, but is still considered night and I am once again glad I have a headlamp on to help guide me. As I looked at the course before, I knew I had one big climb followed by a big drop and then some rolling bumps and a small hill before I finish. The up goes well when suddenly I am going downhill – and going downhill pretty fast. Normally I lean into the hills to relax the legs letting my body weight help carry me down the hill. But this hill is so steep, I need to lean up to be sure I don’t tumble forward…Hitting some flat ground and onto the shoulder of the main road, I hit a stride and continue to pass people (I am up to 10 passes so far and am only passed once). I hit the last small climb, see the flashing lights of the transition area, once again yell for Mary Ellen and I’m done (58 mins). I am not sure if I am loving this experience. This could be a one-time, “bucket list” experience like some of the triathlons I have done or it could be one of the best experiences I have had…Guess I’ll reserve judgment.
We hop into the van and head to the next stage; I think you get the general idea by now. Sara finishes….The boys need food and the girls need to sleep. After what seems like an hour drive, we find some country kitchen (long story of trying to find someplace) and eat. While van 1 finishes their last 6 legs, we opt to drive to the last main transition area to wait for Franco to finish. It is light out now and we’re free to run w/o our vests (!). The last 6-legs requires a bit of strategy as Brad’s, my, and Mary Ellen’s legs are pretty short – 2.2, 1.99 and 3.2 respectively. Given the fact that there will be traffic, in order to avoid missing the handoff, we decide to drop off the three of us before hand and have the second van pick-us up. This proves to be the smart move. While we wait, I chat up Mary Arnold from the girl’s ultra team (damn, they’re almost done) who tells me the boys ultra team (fat guys don’t bonk) have long past and are probably close to, if not already done. Damn….
Franco comes in for the handoff to Niall which means that we have 30 legs down and 6 to go…are we close to a fking beach yet? Niall is off and so are we. Brad gets dropped, then I get out of the car and wait…do my Neil warm-ups and prepare. This is my last leg and a short one at only 1.99. I want to run “balls to the wall”, red-line all of the way so that when I finish, I have nothing left in my tank. I have done 6-min. miles during the speed class, but that is in a controlled environment on a flat running track. 6-min miles is not realistic, but I know that my body has some gas left in the tank. As I wait, other runners come in and as we predicted (correctly) their vans with the subsequent runner has not reached transitions…suckers. Other teams enter the transition area and I wait for Brad to appear. Within a few minutes, Brad shows up and I grab the wrist band and take off. I start to pass more and more runners – keeping someone ahead as a target. I hold up my hand when nearing an intersection – not allowing cars to pass in front of me (maybe not the smartest move, but hey, I am going at all cylinders now). I run, pass more people, and focus on breathing and the finish line. I glance down at my watch – 12 mins on my feet, I should be close… I see runners already of me on the other side of the street…I am close as those must be people in Mary Ellen’s leg. I turn and look for a finish line…I guess I am too focused as I turn into a parking lot and nearly miss the finish line….I yell, where’s the finish to anyone…Someone points behind me…I quickly turn around, jump over a ditch and see Rob calling me in. Head down, I find one last gear and sprint past another runner yelling for Mary Ellen for the last time. Done! 1.99 miles in 13.5 mins…wow…I have nothing left in me.
The next hour+ is a bit of a blur. I recall us go to the last leg to get Steve and wish Sara good luck on her last leg. I remember my heart-rate finally getting down to normal (or my heart not feeling as if it’s coming out of my chest). I remember finally getting to the beach and seeing Sara and us all running in together to the finish line in a total of 26 hours, 48 minutes and some change….Wow what a rush crossing that finish line knowing that the team, together, accomplished something major.
We head to the motel (what could be a Bates Model) in Hampton’s Beach, get cleaned up (the shower was almost as scary as the motel itself (I guess a real shower will need to wait another 12+ hours), have some beers, food and hit the sack. 5:30am on Sunday, we make the 5+ hour drive home.
Well looking back on this, RTB was definitely an adventure…and one which I cannot wait to do again. Cradle Robbers Revenge coming in 2010!
Monday, September 14, 2009
Nation's Tri...The Storming of the Capitol
Don't go and raise the security level, but The Nation's Tri (“The Nations”) - in D.C. - get it - did have its moments when I wanted to storm something. But thank goodness for a solid and strong run which allowed me to eek in a sub 2:50 time. Not the PR I wanted for, but within spitting time of the Philly PR and a learning experience nonetheless. The Nations was also special as I wore my "honorary gimp" uniform - an official USA ParaTriathlon team “onesy” that the team gave me during the NYC tri. As most everyone knows, I am so proud to be even considered part of this group and to do the team proud racing in their colors. I hope I didn’t let anyone down.
Now for the epic as some like to call my tales…stop reading if you like….
The Journey begins as usual on Friday when Mom, Ruth and I make our way to the D.C. area. We opted to stay in Bethesda (MD) for the night – mostly because we couldn’t get a hotel room on Friday (thank goodness for that) as the 4.5 hour ride was done mostly in torrential rain (there were times when I felt we were on a boat instead of in a car). With three bikes (mine, Victoria’s and Hunter's) in tow, it was a painful drive. After dinner with friend and former colleague Doug (had to give him air time since he complains about these recaps) and Seth Price (a friend from my .com days – oh those Silicon Alley days were fun) we hit the sack.
Saturday was probably one of the most stressful pre-race days I have had to date. Why? Well, first the stupid Hilton in D.C. wouldn't let us check in until 3pm and then to add insult to injury didn't have a place to store bikes. Now why would they host a triathlon if they don't store bikes is beyond me. So I sat in the hotel bar (where I'd wind up eating every meal over the next 2 days) watching the bikes, tennis re-runs (since there was a rain-delay) and eating. Finally 3pm check in (four hours after getting to hotel) only to be told we had an 11am check out. Hm the race transition doesn't re-open to 10:30am earliest - only Hilton logic does the checkout make sense. Needless to say after enough bitching I got a wow - noon -- check out. Enough Hilton venting. Back to the report.
Side note: The Nations is the national race for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (also known as Team in Training (“TNT” ) for both triathlons and marathons). The TNT group was huge at 650+ participants who raised over $2.5M for the cause. While it was very cool that they had the spirit and raised a ton of cash, the Race looked like someone just threw up TNT purple everywhere (no offense to any TNT alumni); TNT foot prints, balloons, lots of cheering and chanting….
Saturday, after finally registering, Hunter and I head to the race start to rack our bikes - but before we could head out the door, my rear tire blows. I quickly change tubes and ride to the Race start for the mandatory bike check. Vic also finally arrives on a very-delayed Amtrak and she makes her way to transition to also check her bike. After a late (8pm) dinner, (hotel bar for meal #2), pop the ambien and hit the sack.
Sunday morning. I wake up at 4:15am and realize that we never received our wake-up call and my blackberry alarm never went off; guess all of the early morning training changed my internal body clock to wake up now around this time. Shower, coffee, banana, bagel/peanut butter and we're to the race via a nice shuttle bus. Check everything in transition only to find another rear flat tire - what the fk! I quickly ran Malibu (my bike for any new readers) to the repair tent and have a new tube installed - I didn't ask what happened but it was fixed so who cares!
While we all love pulling scams, somehow Vic managed he monster of all scams by getting us all into the first wave. This was great as we got to start at 7:00am instead of whenever our age groups were supposed to go off. Great until we realized that the first wave was also the Elite Wave. Last I checked, a sub-3 hour race doesn’t qualify as an elite…better be prepared to get passed…a lot…during the Race. We enter the swim pen, line up, jump in the Potomac. The horn sounds and were off!
The swim took us up-river for a tad less than a half-mile, two left turns and we head down-river to the exit. A nice .9 mile (or 1.5k) swim in a dark and murky river…but at least it’s a historic river! I knew something was off from the start. Yes I was trailing the real elites, but between the current, or the lack of other swimmers to spot off of, the swim was hard…harder than I am used to. Maybe it was the fact that I was in the back of the pack – I am usually in the mid of my age group – or the fact that I wore a full-sleeve wetsuit (because of the horror stories I heard about the Potomac) instead of my sleeveless one (the water was nice at around 71 degrees) – but I was struggling swimming in zigzags and not straight. Every time I corrected myself, I’d pop my head up to spot only to realize I was off kilter. Finally the swim exit comes into sight, I pop out, flip up goggles and check time. Ugh, swim time: 32:01 (8 mins slower than Philly - damn). The good part of being part of the elite wave is that our bike racks were close to the end of transition – or right by the bike in/out. The bad thing about this placement is that we had, what seemed to be a 1/4 mile run from the swim exit just to get there. Hunter gets to transition right after me and yells "Model." Wetsuit off, shoes, helmet sun glass on and I'm off on the bike, see you on the bike Hunter. I wonder where Vic is? Oh she'll definitely pass me on the bike.
The bike course was mostly flat with a few very small bumps, but one which called for us to mostly ride in the aero-position. The ride was cool taking us near some of D.C.’s monuments (but as I was racing and not sightseeing, I cannot recall which ones) out to Maryland and back. Yes the passing continued along the ride and I heard "on your left" or "left" way, way too often. Even Hunter got into the game when he passed me yelling see you on the run…oh yes you will. I knew to try and salvage my race, and get in near the anticipated 2:45 time, I had to get off the bike before the 2-hour mark. With that in mind, I hammered when I could, but remember what Rev and Coach Neil drilled in my head – “save some for the run.” So with some high - 90+ cadence (times I turn over the pedals) moments, I also eased back letting my legs rest. Every now and then I glanced down at my watch for a time and heart-rate check to make sure I did not red-line and I was close to target. Heading back (time on the bike 1:21:44) to T2 right around the 2 hour mark I jump off Malibu and jog to my rack only to find someone's bike laying on the ground in my spot, on my sneakers. Crap. I re-rack that bike, my bike, pull on sneakers, grab visor and jog out (back that 1/4 mile near the swim exit).
The first mile is pretty decent - running at a good pace and picking off fellow runners (passing them). The 2:45 goal isn't going to happen this race, but getting close to it is possible. I keep picking up speed, grabbing water and dumping it on my head and taking quick sips along the way. I wish I could remember the sites on the run, but was in a zone - trying hard not to lose momentum and to catch hunter. I keep running, making sure my cadence and speed are picking up and my heart rate maintains a below red-line level - for now. I pass mile 4 and say to myself 2.2 to go - check watch and right at 2:32 - good to go. Head down, I plow forward. Mile 5 I see hunter going towards the finish line - my target. I find another gear, increase speed and heart rate and go. Picking off a few more runners, but no Hunter yet. Finish line banner in sight, I try to sprint, but don't have it in me. Ugh.
Crossing the line at 2:49:30 (a 49:10 run – or sub 8-min), Mike, one of the NYC Tri & Nation's Tri announcers, calls my name, gives Accenture and the ParaTri's a plug and welcomes me home - then asks where Vic is - I point behind me and he says nice to leave her. A shrug, a high five to Hunter - who beat me by 19 seconds – I came close but didn’t catch him and the Nation's s in the books. Hunter and I head to athlete massage area to wait for Mom, Ruth, Vic and Cindy and Eric Andres (and their girls Ella and Maddie) -- Cindy, a friend and colleague came out to the race to watch me finish - thanks guys!
We pick up out stuff, ride to the hotel (a noon checkout which we made by a minute), eat a burger, drink my traditional bloody mary and we head back to NYC.
The Nation’s is a fun race. If I do it again, I won’t stay in the Hilton and will pay more attention to
the sights around me…oh and I won’t try and be a pseudo elite :)
Many of you know that for my 40th year, I challenged myself to do the marathon - in its 40th year. So while I have a few more mini races coming up, the next 7 (gulp) weeks will be all about running!
Now for the epic as some like to call my tales…stop reading if you like….
The Journey begins as usual on Friday when Mom, Ruth and I make our way to the D.C. area. We opted to stay in Bethesda (MD) for the night – mostly because we couldn’t get a hotel room on Friday (thank goodness for that) as the 4.5 hour ride was done mostly in torrential rain (there were times when I felt we were on a boat instead of in a car). With three bikes (mine, Victoria’s and Hunter's) in tow, it was a painful drive. After dinner with friend and former colleague Doug (had to give him air time since he complains about these recaps) and Seth Price (a friend from my .com days – oh those Silicon Alley days were fun) we hit the sack.
Saturday was probably one of the most stressful pre-race days I have had to date. Why? Well, first the stupid Hilton in D.C. wouldn't let us check in until 3pm and then to add insult to injury didn't have a place to store bikes. Now why would they host a triathlon if they don't store bikes is beyond me. So I sat in the hotel bar (where I'd wind up eating every meal over the next 2 days) watching the bikes, tennis re-runs (since there was a rain-delay) and eating. Finally 3pm check in (four hours after getting to hotel) only to be told we had an 11am check out. Hm the race transition doesn't re-open to 10:30am earliest - only Hilton logic does the checkout make sense. Needless to say after enough bitching I got a wow - noon -- check out. Enough Hilton venting. Back to the report.
Side note: The Nations is the national race for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (also known as Team in Training (“TNT” ) for both triathlons and marathons). The TNT group was huge at 650+ participants who raised over $2.5M for the cause. While it was very cool that they had the spirit and raised a ton of cash, the Race looked like someone just threw up TNT purple everywhere (no offense to any TNT alumni); TNT foot prints, balloons, lots of cheering and chanting….
Saturday, after finally registering, Hunter and I head to the race start to rack our bikes - but before we could head out the door, my rear tire blows. I quickly change tubes and ride to the Race start for the mandatory bike check. Vic also finally arrives on a very-delayed Amtrak and she makes her way to transition to also check her bike. After a late (8pm) dinner, (hotel bar for meal #2), pop the ambien and hit the sack.
Sunday morning. I wake up at 4:15am and realize that we never received our wake-up call and my blackberry alarm never went off; guess all of the early morning training changed my internal body clock to wake up now around this time. Shower, coffee, banana, bagel/peanut butter and we're to the race via a nice shuttle bus. Check everything in transition only to find another rear flat tire - what the fk! I quickly ran Malibu (my bike for any new readers) to the repair tent and have a new tube installed - I didn't ask what happened but it was fixed so who cares!
While we all love pulling scams, somehow Vic managed he monster of all scams by getting us all into the first wave. This was great as we got to start at 7:00am instead of whenever our age groups were supposed to go off. Great until we realized that the first wave was also the Elite Wave. Last I checked, a sub-3 hour race doesn’t qualify as an elite…better be prepared to get passed…a lot…during the Race. We enter the swim pen, line up, jump in the Potomac. The horn sounds and were off!
The swim took us up-river for a tad less than a half-mile, two left turns and we head down-river to the exit. A nice .9 mile (or 1.5k) swim in a dark and murky river…but at least it’s a historic river! I knew something was off from the start. Yes I was trailing the real elites, but between the current, or the lack of other swimmers to spot off of, the swim was hard…harder than I am used to. Maybe it was the fact that I was in the back of the pack – I am usually in the mid of my age group – or the fact that I wore a full-sleeve wetsuit (because of the horror stories I heard about the Potomac) instead of my sleeveless one (the water was nice at around 71 degrees) – but I was struggling swimming in zigzags and not straight. Every time I corrected myself, I’d pop my head up to spot only to realize I was off kilter. Finally the swim exit comes into sight, I pop out, flip up goggles and check time. Ugh, swim time: 32:01 (8 mins slower than Philly - damn). The good part of being part of the elite wave is that our bike racks were close to the end of transition – or right by the bike in/out. The bad thing about this placement is that we had, what seemed to be a 1/4 mile run from the swim exit just to get there. Hunter gets to transition right after me and yells "Model." Wetsuit off, shoes, helmet sun glass on and I'm off on the bike, see you on the bike Hunter. I wonder where Vic is? Oh she'll definitely pass me on the bike.
The bike course was mostly flat with a few very small bumps, but one which called for us to mostly ride in the aero-position. The ride was cool taking us near some of D.C.’s monuments (but as I was racing and not sightseeing, I cannot recall which ones) out to Maryland and back. Yes the passing continued along the ride and I heard "on your left" or "left" way, way too often. Even Hunter got into the game when he passed me yelling see you on the run…oh yes you will. I knew to try and salvage my race, and get in near the anticipated 2:45 time, I had to get off the bike before the 2-hour mark. With that in mind, I hammered when I could, but remember what Rev and Coach Neil drilled in my head – “save some for the run.” So with some high - 90+ cadence (times I turn over the pedals) moments, I also eased back letting my legs rest. Every now and then I glanced down at my watch for a time and heart-rate check to make sure I did not red-line and I was close to target. Heading back (time on the bike 1:21:44) to T2 right around the 2 hour mark I jump off Malibu and jog to my rack only to find someone's bike laying on the ground in my spot, on my sneakers. Crap. I re-rack that bike, my bike, pull on sneakers, grab visor and jog out (back that 1/4 mile near the swim exit).
The first mile is pretty decent - running at a good pace and picking off fellow runners (passing them). The 2:45 goal isn't going to happen this race, but getting close to it is possible. I keep picking up speed, grabbing water and dumping it on my head and taking quick sips along the way. I wish I could remember the sites on the run, but was in a zone - trying hard not to lose momentum and to catch hunter. I keep running, making sure my cadence and speed are picking up and my heart rate maintains a below red-line level - for now. I pass mile 4 and say to myself 2.2 to go - check watch and right at 2:32 - good to go. Head down, I plow forward. Mile 5 I see hunter going towards the finish line - my target. I find another gear, increase speed and heart rate and go. Picking off a few more runners, but no Hunter yet. Finish line banner in sight, I try to sprint, but don't have it in me. Ugh.
Crossing the line at 2:49:30 (a 49:10 run – or sub 8-min), Mike, one of the NYC Tri & Nation's Tri announcers, calls my name, gives Accenture and the ParaTri's a plug and welcomes me home - then asks where Vic is - I point behind me and he says nice to leave her. A shrug, a high five to Hunter - who beat me by 19 seconds – I came close but didn’t catch him and the Nation's s in the books. Hunter and I head to athlete massage area to wait for Mom, Ruth, Vic and Cindy and Eric Andres (and their girls Ella and Maddie) -- Cindy, a friend and colleague came out to the race to watch me finish - thanks guys!
We pick up out stuff, ride to the hotel (a noon checkout which we made by a minute), eat a burger, drink my traditional bloody mary and we head back to NYC.
The Nation’s is a fun race. If I do it again, I won’t stay in the Hilton and will pay more attention to
the sights around me…oh and I won’t try and be a pseudo elite :)
Many of you know that for my 40th year, I challenged myself to do the marathon - in its 40th year. So while I have a few more mini races coming up, the next 7 (gulp) weeks will be all about running!
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Two in Two Weeks...The Kicking of the Liberty Bell after meeting the Housewives
This past weekend I completed my fourth triathlon this season (and third in June for those counting). This race -– The Philadelphia Triathlon (Philly Tri) -- was by far my best performance to date and allowed me to avenge a course that kicked my butt a year ago. The week before The Philly Race, I, along with several teammates also raced the Wyckoff Triathlon in Franklin Lakes, NJ (a/k/a/ home of the Housewives of New Jersey for fans of that train-wreck of a show) where I also notched a personal record in a long-Sprint distance. So far, this summer tri season has been pretty good to me.
The Posse (Mom, Ruth, Aunt Suzie and Sarah) also made a repeat performance at the Philly Tri – they have been unable to make any race before this – so it was great to have them back as well. With the fan base lined up, I prepared for races in the usual manner. Friday drive down to Philly, registration, bike check (make sure I actually packed everything – you sort of need swim goggles and sneakers etc to actually race) before heading to my friend Michele Segre’s house for a home-cooked dinner (Michele made the protein and Patty Ploussiou made the carbs). Stuffed, we headed back to the hotel for a good night’s rest.
Saturday was just a relaxing day. Starting off watching the Sprint-distance race which a few friends -- a small group of fellow Asphalt Green Tri Club (AG) as well as some friends including Hunter making his second triathlon appearance -- competed. After watching everyone cross the finish line (congrats all), I headed back to the hotel to rest and prepare for Sunday. This included watching some tennis (the rest), shopping at Target (need the essentials -- race morning food/drink; oh and Goldfish which were on sale!), and re-packing my transition bag. In the afternoon, I, along with fellow AG teammates Randi and Josh rose the flat-parts of the bike course to try and remember the feel of the course before heading off to our AG team dinner. After dinner, back to the room, re-check transition bag, slip an Ambien and hit the sack.
Getting a good night’s sleep (even with the help of Ambien) is an iffy proposition at best. Yep, I was awake at 3am – a good hour before I was supposed to be– and rested until the actual alarms went off (yes alarms – one from the blackberry, another from the regular alarm clock, and the last a wake-up call– you can never be too safe on race day). I get up, have my coffee, take a quick shower, check tires, eat something, get dressed, do my own body-marking, and head out the door to the race site. Arriving at 5:15am, I find a good parking spot and head down to transition to set up my transition area – it’s amazing how friendly everyone always is on race morning) and wait for Randi Gordon and Reveka Wallace (Rev) to arrive (Rev in all her wisdom decided to plan a family party the night before the race and didn’t get to Philly until well after 11pm; those Aussies like to live life on the edge). As I was in the 6th wave and didn’t start the race until 7:25am, I saw no reason to rush to the swim start (for those who don’t recall, the swim portion of the race is a 1.5k point-to-point swim taking us from one side of the Schukull River to the other). Fast forward a bit and Rev and I hop on the bus to take us to the swim start where we wait around, stretch a bit for the swim…and wait. While Rev and I are talking, we didn’t even realize the race started and Randi, in the second wave, was long gone…Oh well, sure we’ll see you on the other side. Finally, they call my age-group (first set of 40-44 year olds – I am still not used to being in the mid-geezer group, but oh well). Having learned from last year, I didn’t immediately jump into the water to wait for the swim to start – who actually wants to tread water for a full five-minutes before having to swim nearly a mile! So while others jumped in suckers), I checked my goggles, ear-plus (water in the ears sucks), finally jump in and immediately float on my back waiting for the count-down (a trick from Coach Neil). When they call out the 30-second warning, I flip over and float on my stomach (another Neil trick), relax and get into a good swim-start position. Finally someone yells go, and we’re off down the river.
My wave must have had about 200 people in it all trying to grab hold of water and pull themselves downstream the famous – or infamous -- Schuylkill River. We were lucky enough to have some current, but it was all hands, arms, some legs and heads for the first few hundred yards of the swim. I kept remembering what Neil told me during the countless laps in Asphalt Green Pool; swim front-quadrant, keep your head down, extend before pulling the water, keep arms relaxed on the recovery and get into a nice and solid rhythm. I continue to swim past others who jumped ahead at the swim start, past the first buoy market and then the second. I keep passing others while spotting when I can, but keeping my head down (not that I’m actually looking at anything as the water is, well, murky. The problem with keeping your head down is that you constantly run into other swimmers. Screw them; not my fault if they’re not following Neil’s words!
My goal for this race was sub three (or under three hours) which was 18 mins than the race last year, consistent with my performance at Mooseman earlier in the month and on par with the race in Franklin Lakes the weekend before). To hit the goal, I needed to swim the course in about 30 minutes. Ok stop thinking about the time, continue to focus on swimming forward. I round the last buoy and see that to get to shore, we need to swim a bit upstream. What benefited us going down, is going to screw with us now. It feels like for every stroke I take, I move sideways or back and not the direction I need to go. Let’s try kicking a bit…maybe that’ll help. Ok, a little movement in the right direction and I’m making progress. Finally, the balloon-arch in sight, I pop out of the water, a volunteer steadies me as the exit is neat sharp rocks, flip up the goggles, unzip my wetsuit and jog into transitions. Time check: 24 mins…wow that’s a great swim and I didn’t taste that much of the Schuylkill!
As I see Malibu waiting for me, I know I’m not the first out of the water, but am far from the last. Helmet and sunglasses on, a sip of water, bike shoes on, I grab Malibu and head out on the course.
The Bike course consists of two 13-mile loops taking us from one side of the river, past the Art Museum (think Rocky) and onto the other side. It has a few steep climbs (four per loop or a total of eight) and some technical and fast descents. While we start out on a flat surface for the first 3/4 of a mile, the first hill comes on pretty quickly you’re no longer on the flat surface. As I approach the first hill, flashbacks from last year when I dropped my chain come back at me. To prevent this, I know I need a strategy for attacking the hills (sort of how we attack Harlem Hill during training sessions); get into my small chain ring and spin my legs to get up and over (thankfully there isn’t anyone dressed like a devil on this course!). I’m not the strongest cyclist and fully expect to be passed on the bike – especially on the flat and downhill portions. I am, however, careful and strategic when it comes to riding which proves to be smart as I see several people on the side of the road with dropped chains, EMT personnel and the like throughout the ride. Back to the task at hand…the first hill. As I make the approach, I shift and spin up the hill…pass others struggling up…get onto a quick flat and then into another hill where I pass more riders. Check HR…a mere 185 (zone 4; that was work)…Time to rest my legs as we head on a very fast downhill section. As I go down, I feather my breaks to control my speed and head back to a flat portion of the course and onto the other side of the river. More flats as we approach the second hill. Up the second hill using the same technique as I did with the first and to my surprise I pass more riders. In my head I start counting down the hills…two down, six to go. Back down hill and we head to the infamous Lemon Hill; a quick, but steep climb. But again as I approach it the “right” way, I simply get into a good gear, stand and scoot up the hill. That’s three down…not that bad (HR is at 182). As we pass the Art Museum and head to the last hill on this loop, we hit some serious headwind; where the hell did that come from! I keep pedaling and try to find a good gear to make my way through it. I turn onto the fourth hill, and see Liz Greenstein, a fellow AG racer ,making her way up. I say a few words of encouragement as I pass her (HR tops off at 185). Down another steep descent, I see some EMT people lifting a racer off the course on a stretcher (it pays to be safe) and head past transition onto the second loop. As I start the second loop another Neil saying pops back into my head (actually Rev reminded me of this before the swim so it was somewhat fresh) -- “save it for the run” – meaning don’t go too hard on the bike that you have nothing left in your legs for the run. Game plan in check, I attack the fifth (or first hill again if you get my logic) hill and head back to the other side of the river to attack hills six and seven. Up and down these, we head past the Art Museum and those headwinds (can’t they leave already) and make my way up the last hill. Phew, almost done. Back down the second descent and another biker down..and head into T2. Again with the time goal in mind, I needed to finish the bike and swim in about two hours. I look down and see I’m at 1:48…wow!
Into T2, I re-rack my bike, helmet and shoes off -- I need to really learn how to take my feet out of the shoes while riding) slip on the calf guards (these are compression clothing that helps to circulate the blood in certain areas – in theory. Calf guards helped me through the Miami Half-Marathon in January, so hoped they’d do the same here), and then shoes, visor on, glass back on, sip of water and I’m off.
The run is a flat out and back 10k taking us on some of the bike course, back behind transition, close to the Art Museum and on home to the finish line. As I start the run, I feel a bit of a side stitch coming on (this is what killed my run during this race last year…oh no, not again). The only way to fix a stitch is to get breathing under control so to fix it, I slow down and take deep breaths. On the way to the Mile 1 marker, I hear Go AG and my name from the sidelines (or the heat/humidity is getting to me and I’m hearing things). I stop at all of the water stations and grab some GU and throw it in my back pocket (hey you never can have too many GUs). It’s hot and the stitch is still there, but I’m making progress. While others who aren’t suffering speed past me, I do pass others who are walking – hopefully I won’t have to resort to that. Approaching the 1.5 mile turn-around, I see Randi going the other way. Goal: catch up and run with her. I make progress and catch-up to her. As I get to her side, I ask Randi to run with me…she says flatly no! Oh well, see you at the finish line. As I head back to transition, I see Rev, Josh De Haan, and Jen Nicoll behind me -- the stitch starts to wane so I start to increase my speed. It’s hot so at every water station, I dump some water on my head and take in some fluids (careful not to over hydrate). I keep picking off other runners, but know I’m not going as fast as I typically do. I see other AG teammates on their way to the finish line – right behind you guys – I think. One of the problems with a completely flat run course is your legs never have a rest…you’re constantly turning over trying to get some speed. Hills aren’t the best, but at least you can get your body and your legs as you float downhill. At the turn-around home (this is about 4 miles into the run), I look at my watch and see 2:30; unless something major happens I’m going to finish in under three hours. I continue to pick up speed and pass running. Past the 5-mile marker, I get into another gear (where I found it I haven’t a clue) and continue to run. As I pass others I say to anyone who will listen “less than a mile to go…we’re almost home.” I pass a women who sped past me on the way out, so know my run is getting stronger. Suddenly I hear cheers, and cow bells and see the finish corral and chute. Another racer is besides me and knowing I’m so close and going to hit a personal record, I find the last effort and sprint the last eighth of a mile past the finish line. I look down and see 2:44 – wholly crap! The runner who I was with finished after me and said nice sprint at the end. Not only was I 12 mins faster than Mooseman, but I was close to half-hour faster than I raced in 2008. Even I’m impressed.
I see the Posse; mom is beaming – maybe because I’m actually done – as are Aunt Suzie, Ruth, Sarah and Michele. Medal in hand, I down some water, I head for the massage tent to put my name down and go the sides to cheer others on. After a nice massage and a quick bite, we pack-up and have breakfast…oh and my well-deserved Bloody Mary and Blue Moon Beer (yum).
This race was especially nice as the Posse was back, I notched a personal record and kicked the Liberty Bell in a way which it kicked me last year. Oh, I also recently found out I got into the 2009 NYC Marathon. So while I have a little hiatus from Triathlons until The Nation’s Tri in D.C on September 13th (followed by a 12-person, 200-mile in 24-hour relay race called reach the beach on September 20th and the Westchester Tri on Sept. 27th ) I have some miles to get under my belt. Oh, I am in Atlanta for the long weekend where I get to experience the biggest (over 50,000 runners) 10k in the World – the Peachtree 10k…should be interesting.
I know I left parts of The Wyckoff/Franklin Lakes Tri story out, and while it was fun to not only race with my club but also an Accenture Partner Joe Lemaire, as that was a training race, and there were no Housewives creating drama on the sidelines…so this race only gets a sidebar mention.
Here are some pictures from the race.
The Posse (Mom, Ruth, Aunt Suzie and Sarah) also made a repeat performance at the Philly Tri – they have been unable to make any race before this – so it was great to have them back as well. With the fan base lined up, I prepared for races in the usual manner. Friday drive down to Philly, registration, bike check (make sure I actually packed everything – you sort of need swim goggles and sneakers etc to actually race) before heading to my friend Michele Segre’s house for a home-cooked dinner (Michele made the protein and Patty Ploussiou made the carbs). Stuffed, we headed back to the hotel for a good night’s rest.
Saturday was just a relaxing day. Starting off watching the Sprint-distance race which a few friends -- a small group of fellow Asphalt Green Tri Club (AG) as well as some friends including Hunter making his second triathlon appearance -- competed. After watching everyone cross the finish line (congrats all), I headed back to the hotel to rest and prepare for Sunday. This included watching some tennis (the rest), shopping at Target (need the essentials -- race morning food/drink; oh and Goldfish which were on sale!), and re-packing my transition bag. In the afternoon, I, along with fellow AG teammates Randi and Josh rose the flat-parts of the bike course to try and remember the feel of the course before heading off to our AG team dinner. After dinner, back to the room, re-check transition bag, slip an Ambien and hit the sack.
Getting a good night’s sleep (even with the help of Ambien) is an iffy proposition at best. Yep, I was awake at 3am – a good hour before I was supposed to be– and rested until the actual alarms went off (yes alarms – one from the blackberry, another from the regular alarm clock, and the last a wake-up call– you can never be too safe on race day). I get up, have my coffee, take a quick shower, check tires, eat something, get dressed, do my own body-marking, and head out the door to the race site. Arriving at 5:15am, I find a good parking spot and head down to transition to set up my transition area – it’s amazing how friendly everyone always is on race morning) and wait for Randi Gordon and Reveka Wallace (Rev) to arrive (Rev in all her wisdom decided to plan a family party the night before the race and didn’t get to Philly until well after 11pm; those Aussies like to live life on the edge). As I was in the 6th wave and didn’t start the race until 7:25am, I saw no reason to rush to the swim start (for those who don’t recall, the swim portion of the race is a 1.5k point-to-point swim taking us from one side of the Schukull River to the other). Fast forward a bit and Rev and I hop on the bus to take us to the swim start where we wait around, stretch a bit for the swim…and wait. While Rev and I are talking, we didn’t even realize the race started and Randi, in the second wave, was long gone…Oh well, sure we’ll see you on the other side. Finally, they call my age-group (first set of 40-44 year olds – I am still not used to being in the mid-geezer group, but oh well). Having learned from last year, I didn’t immediately jump into the water to wait for the swim to start – who actually wants to tread water for a full five-minutes before having to swim nearly a mile! So while others jumped in suckers), I checked my goggles, ear-plus (water in the ears sucks), finally jump in and immediately float on my back waiting for the count-down (a trick from Coach Neil). When they call out the 30-second warning, I flip over and float on my stomach (another Neil trick), relax and get into a good swim-start position. Finally someone yells go, and we’re off down the river.
My wave must have had about 200 people in it all trying to grab hold of water and pull themselves downstream the famous – or infamous -- Schuylkill River. We were lucky enough to have some current, but it was all hands, arms, some legs and heads for the first few hundred yards of the swim. I kept remembering what Neil told me during the countless laps in Asphalt Green Pool; swim front-quadrant, keep your head down, extend before pulling the water, keep arms relaxed on the recovery and get into a nice and solid rhythm. I continue to swim past others who jumped ahead at the swim start, past the first buoy market and then the second. I keep passing others while spotting when I can, but keeping my head down (not that I’m actually looking at anything as the water is, well, murky. The problem with keeping your head down is that you constantly run into other swimmers. Screw them; not my fault if they’re not following Neil’s words!
My goal for this race was sub three (or under three hours) which was 18 mins than the race last year, consistent with my performance at Mooseman earlier in the month and on par with the race in Franklin Lakes the weekend before). To hit the goal, I needed to swim the course in about 30 minutes. Ok stop thinking about the time, continue to focus on swimming forward. I round the last buoy and see that to get to shore, we need to swim a bit upstream. What benefited us going down, is going to screw with us now. It feels like for every stroke I take, I move sideways or back and not the direction I need to go. Let’s try kicking a bit…maybe that’ll help. Ok, a little movement in the right direction and I’m making progress. Finally, the balloon-arch in sight, I pop out of the water, a volunteer steadies me as the exit is neat sharp rocks, flip up the goggles, unzip my wetsuit and jog into transitions. Time check: 24 mins…wow that’s a great swim and I didn’t taste that much of the Schuylkill!
As I see Malibu waiting for me, I know I’m not the first out of the water, but am far from the last. Helmet and sunglasses on, a sip of water, bike shoes on, I grab Malibu and head out on the course.
The Bike course consists of two 13-mile loops taking us from one side of the river, past the Art Museum (think Rocky) and onto the other side. It has a few steep climbs (four per loop or a total of eight) and some technical and fast descents. While we start out on a flat surface for the first 3/4 of a mile, the first hill comes on pretty quickly you’re no longer on the flat surface. As I approach the first hill, flashbacks from last year when I dropped my chain come back at me. To prevent this, I know I need a strategy for attacking the hills (sort of how we attack Harlem Hill during training sessions); get into my small chain ring and spin my legs to get up and over (thankfully there isn’t anyone dressed like a devil on this course!). I’m not the strongest cyclist and fully expect to be passed on the bike – especially on the flat and downhill portions. I am, however, careful and strategic when it comes to riding which proves to be smart as I see several people on the side of the road with dropped chains, EMT personnel and the like throughout the ride. Back to the task at hand…the first hill. As I make the approach, I shift and spin up the hill…pass others struggling up…get onto a quick flat and then into another hill where I pass more riders. Check HR…a mere 185 (zone 4; that was work)…Time to rest my legs as we head on a very fast downhill section. As I go down, I feather my breaks to control my speed and head back to a flat portion of the course and onto the other side of the river. More flats as we approach the second hill. Up the second hill using the same technique as I did with the first and to my surprise I pass more riders. In my head I start counting down the hills…two down, six to go. Back down hill and we head to the infamous Lemon Hill; a quick, but steep climb. But again as I approach it the “right” way, I simply get into a good gear, stand and scoot up the hill. That’s three down…not that bad (HR is at 182). As we pass the Art Museum and head to the last hill on this loop, we hit some serious headwind; where the hell did that come from! I keep pedaling and try to find a good gear to make my way through it. I turn onto the fourth hill, and see Liz Greenstein, a fellow AG racer ,making her way up. I say a few words of encouragement as I pass her (HR tops off at 185). Down another steep descent, I see some EMT people lifting a racer off the course on a stretcher (it pays to be safe) and head past transition onto the second loop. As I start the second loop another Neil saying pops back into my head (actually Rev reminded me of this before the swim so it was somewhat fresh) -- “save it for the run” – meaning don’t go too hard on the bike that you have nothing left in your legs for the run. Game plan in check, I attack the fifth (or first hill again if you get my logic) hill and head back to the other side of the river to attack hills six and seven. Up and down these, we head past the Art Museum and those headwinds (can’t they leave already) and make my way up the last hill. Phew, almost done. Back down the second descent and another biker down..and head into T2. Again with the time goal in mind, I needed to finish the bike and swim in about two hours. I look down and see I’m at 1:48…wow!
Into T2, I re-rack my bike, helmet and shoes off -- I need to really learn how to take my feet out of the shoes while riding) slip on the calf guards (these are compression clothing that helps to circulate the blood in certain areas – in theory. Calf guards helped me through the Miami Half-Marathon in January, so hoped they’d do the same here), and then shoes, visor on, glass back on, sip of water and I’m off.
The run is a flat out and back 10k taking us on some of the bike course, back behind transition, close to the Art Museum and on home to the finish line. As I start the run, I feel a bit of a side stitch coming on (this is what killed my run during this race last year…oh no, not again). The only way to fix a stitch is to get breathing under control so to fix it, I slow down and take deep breaths. On the way to the Mile 1 marker, I hear Go AG and my name from the sidelines (or the heat/humidity is getting to me and I’m hearing things). I stop at all of the water stations and grab some GU and throw it in my back pocket (hey you never can have too many GUs). It’s hot and the stitch is still there, but I’m making progress. While others who aren’t suffering speed past me, I do pass others who are walking – hopefully I won’t have to resort to that. Approaching the 1.5 mile turn-around, I see Randi going the other way. Goal: catch up and run with her. I make progress and catch-up to her. As I get to her side, I ask Randi to run with me…she says flatly no! Oh well, see you at the finish line. As I head back to transition, I see Rev, Josh De Haan, and Jen Nicoll behind me -- the stitch starts to wane so I start to increase my speed. It’s hot so at every water station, I dump some water on my head and take in some fluids (careful not to over hydrate). I keep picking off other runners, but know I’m not going as fast as I typically do. I see other AG teammates on their way to the finish line – right behind you guys – I think. One of the problems with a completely flat run course is your legs never have a rest…you’re constantly turning over trying to get some speed. Hills aren’t the best, but at least you can get your body and your legs as you float downhill. At the turn-around home (this is about 4 miles into the run), I look at my watch and see 2:30; unless something major happens I’m going to finish in under three hours. I continue to pick up speed and pass running. Past the 5-mile marker, I get into another gear (where I found it I haven’t a clue) and continue to run. As I pass others I say to anyone who will listen “less than a mile to go…we’re almost home.” I pass a women who sped past me on the way out, so know my run is getting stronger. Suddenly I hear cheers, and cow bells and see the finish corral and chute. Another racer is besides me and knowing I’m so close and going to hit a personal record, I find the last effort and sprint the last eighth of a mile past the finish line. I look down and see 2:44 – wholly crap! The runner who I was with finished after me and said nice sprint at the end. Not only was I 12 mins faster than Mooseman, but I was close to half-hour faster than I raced in 2008. Even I’m impressed.
I see the Posse; mom is beaming – maybe because I’m actually done – as are Aunt Suzie, Ruth, Sarah and Michele. Medal in hand, I down some water, I head for the massage tent to put my name down and go the sides to cheer others on. After a nice massage and a quick bite, we pack-up and have breakfast…oh and my well-deserved Bloody Mary and Blue Moon Beer (yum).
This race was especially nice as the Posse was back, I notched a personal record and kicked the Liberty Bell in a way which it kicked me last year. Oh, I also recently found out I got into the 2009 NYC Marathon. So while I have a little hiatus from Triathlons until The Nation’s Tri in D.C on September 13th (followed by a 12-person, 200-mile in 24-hour relay race called reach the beach on September 20th and the Westchester Tri on Sept. 27th ) I have some miles to get under my belt. Oh, I am in Atlanta for the long weekend where I get to experience the biggest (over 50,000 runners) 10k in the World – the Peachtree 10k…should be interesting.
I know I left parts of The Wyckoff/Franklin Lakes Tri story out, and while it was fun to not only race with my club but also an Accenture Partner Joe Lemaire, as that was a training race, and there were no Housewives creating drama on the sidelines…so this race only gets a sidebar mention.
Here are some pictures from the race.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Mooseman Tri...The Taming of the Moose
So let me start from the beginning...I promise to get to the good stuff quickly.
Taking the day off on Friday, I drove up to NH with teammates Allie Silverman (our race captain extraordinaire), Barbara Heinkens (who opted to do the Bull Moose -- the Olympic one day and the half-iron the next; think she was smoking something on her recent trip to Holland if you ask me) and Mary Fleiger (who offered her car and drove almost the entire way up). The drive was wet...to the point that we kept looking in the rearview mirror to make sure all four bikes were still there; at least our bikes got a cleaning! On the drive up. we came up with a game plan; register, drive the bike course, eat dinner, hit the sack. We arrived around 4:30pm in the afternoon, checked in (got race numbers/bib, schwaag -- really water bottle, cool dri-fit shirt and hat) and decided to test the water to see how cold it actually was. I have raced in cold water -- the Pacific Ocean in Sept isn't exactly the tropics -- but wowza, the water was pretty damn cold; definitely long-sleeve wetsuit weather, but damn, do I actually need a neoprene hat for the swim? We exited the race area and drove the "rolling" hills around the lake to try and get a feel for what we'd encounter the next day (more on that later) and then met with fellow teammate Craig Eichen, his wife Brenda, and their kids for a pasta dinner. 9:00pm check-in at hotel (we opted not to camp, but selected a hotel way too far from the race, lesson learned), 9:20pm transition bag packed, 9:23pm ambien swallowed, 9:30pm goodnight!
Then out of nowhere -- at least in my mind -- the blackberry alarm and alarm clock go off within minutes of each other. It's 4:15am - Happy Moose Day! Re-check transition bag, bike, have pre-race breakfast (bagel, banana, coffee, G2) and head down to meet the ladies to start our day. Parking on site wasn't the best for those not staying nearby (I am still not camping- ever) as we had to walk a bit to get to transition. Rack bike, lay out transition area, go for a quick warm-up run with Mary and Barbara, put on wetsuit (Glide everywhere -- except for one key area; again read on) and head to the water to start. I typically do a pre-race swim to "warm up" but feared that I would never warm-up waiting for my wave to start. Now that I have aged up in USA Triathlon's mind, I was slotted in the third wave of the morning (it could have been worse -- Barbara and Mary were in the second to the last wave) so I had the chance to watch the faces of those in earlier groups as they touched the water for the first time. 7:38am hits and we're off.
I dive into a tepid 61-degree lake (at least it's clear) and immediately get into a rhythm -- trying to catch the bubbles from people ahead of me to get me out on the first stretch. No luck...I continue to swim and hear Coach Neil say to me, relax, get into an easy stroke pattern, and pull the water. The only problem is that it's so cold, I can't feel my hands and my feet are freezing! Well, I'm here, best to continue to swim. Around the first set of buoys and I realize I'm slightly off course...oops...Need to do a better job of spotting. Around the turn-around as I head for home, I'm still having sighting issues (getting a little off course), still can't really feel my feel or hands, but pass others from earlier waves and a large number of floaters (people who had panic attacks while swimming). Finally I see the beach and head towards it. Then out of no where, a close encounter of the fish kind -- an actual fish who swims right at me...gills and scales in my face. At least it wasn't a shark! I hit sand (I think as the hands are still dumb), jump out of the water, run to the beach, check my watch (28 mins -- not bad for a .93 mile swim) and reach for the wetsuit chord on my back. I can't find it...I keep trying as I run to shore...where is it? Finally a wetsuit stripper (get your mind out of the gutter, this is a volunteer who helps to get you out of the contraption) starts to help me. I realize put Glide everywhere except on the outside of the suit so I have issues getting the sucker off.. In what feels like hours, but is prob. only minutes, I'm free of the suit and head to T1.
Immediately I opt for no socks, no extra t-shirt and no gloves, throw on helmet, sunglasses and try and get numb feel into my shoes. Grab Malibu (yes, the bike has a name) and head onto the ride. The first few miles are pretty ok and I get acclimated to the roads...Some small rollers (a/k/a hills) -- well they felt small on the bike, but not on the run...more on that in a bit -- as I go around the lake (I lost all sense of direction all weekend so had no clue what direction I was going). With Neil in my head saying, keep dancing on the pedals, increase your cadence, I'm feeling pretty good when I see it...Devil Hill. How do I know the name? Easy, a woman is dressed as a devil at the base and shouts "up and over" to every rider as they pass...Neil is now out of my head and "up in over" is replaying over and over and I grunt and churn the pedals; at least I'm not walking my bike up like some others! Finally at the top, devil past me, heart rate (HR) close to 182, and some relief (those doing the half-iron distance the next day have to do that thing twice!) as I head down hill a bit and try to get the HR down, just in time for another roller. Yes, this course has one or two small flat sections, the rest is all up and down hills. The roads aren't great, lots of bumps, but at least no pot-holes -- that would be horrible. I get passed a few times, pass some others, play sea-saw with a fellow rider when finally I see a sign that says mile 20, only 7.5 more to go! That was the worst thing to get in my head, as the last 7.5 were painful with ascents on top of ascents and only a few descents (I guess the race director really wanted to remind us that NH isn't flat -- like Devil Hill didn't provide a clue). Finally I pass a familiar landmark and know I am approaching the end of the bike; time check, a little over 2 hours -- and 1:30 on the bike. I pass Allie who is cheering us on from the sidelines and head into T2.
Bike re-racked, helmet off, shoes, race belt, visor on and I'm off. The run starts with a jaunt through a path and onto the road (where we biked). The first few steps are ok, I am picking up my feet, but it's not going great...I usually go slower right off the bike. I see other teammates Matt Long and Frank Carino (who are racing also the half the next day) on a practice ride and they cheer me on. But something isn't right...not a stitch cramp this time, it's my right leg...it won't fire. I drink water at the aid station (no need for Gatorade yet) and attack the first hill -- the first roller we faced on the bike which when you're running it and not biking it feelings longer and steeper (I walk a bit to see if it helps to calm the burning in my leg). I tell myself keep moving forward, don't stop. I run, walk, run walk past the first mile -- only 5.2 more to go. I see the turn around, a nice downhill (ahhh, a chance to let the legs go), which only means an uphill on the way home...only 3.1 miles remaining...time check: 2:35 -- I can do this in under 25 mins. I grab water at every aid station and keep pushing forward. Neil told me late last week that the key to me racing well is, at this point, to get my head in check (a/k/a confidence); right now I am letting the body take over when the mind should be in control. Screw this. Mile 4 I tell my right leg I'm racing the last two miles and it's coming with me. Suddenly I am actually running, at the speed I should have been running all along. Ben Lloyd and Trish (his fiance) are there on the sidelines -- Ben tells me to put my head down and go. So with about a half-mile left I nod (to Ben) and take off. Down the remaining portion of the road, onto the small stretch on the beach, past T1/T2 and into the finish chute I get more speed and take a fellow racer in the chute to pass the finish line. Check: 2:59 (another sub 3-hour finish). Pretty happy with my race -- while obsessing about ways I could have cut off more time -- I cheer on Mary, Barbara and other AG teammates as they cross the finish line. While the traditional posse didn't make this trip, my cousin Robin, who lives about an hour away, came to the finish line to watch the race unfold; always nice to have family support.
While we opted not to hit the free margarita/beer area -- the line was crazy by the time everyone crossed, we ended up eating at a cool place in a nearby town. The only problem is that it was dry! Ugh, no immediate post-race beer...After hitting the supermarket - where I got a six pack and chugged a beer -- I spent the rest of the day chilling. Sunday was a lot of fun watching teammates compete in the half-iron race.
So with the Moose was tamed for all of us, we headed back to NYC in time to work on the CAF Gala. June is a pretty packed racing month -- Wyckoff on June 20th and Philly on June 28th, so be on the look out for future reports.
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