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.
