I cannot say I'll miss 2010 that much, but did learn a lot about myself as an athlete, friend and all around human being.
Jan: Miami half marathon. Lots of laughs with Rob, Davey, and Rev...Randomly seeing Ken at the start...Pro Bowl. No PR, but a decent start to the year.
Feb - March: Random NYRR races, March Madness Duathalon (never again...even though I said the same in 2009). NYC Half Marathon (not heat this time, but that damn asphalt-to-concrete surface change really screws me up).
April: Started off well...until the crash during the South Beach Race. Man-o-War Vick? Nah, it's not broken, just really badly sprained (right!). Surgery...decisions on summer race schedule (realization that Eagleman 70.3 wasn't happening). Learning what it is like to actually be a challenged athlete (more admiration for those living with one arm - loafers are my friend). Weekly visits to arm surgeon begins...weekly cast changes.
May: Start to run again...slowly with one arm in the air. Trip to Boulder to visit Mac (love that place). DNS at Columbia MD (I'll do this one in 2011). More training. Second surgery right before Labor Day. Trip to Rob's for Memorial Day....first time on the bike since the crash.
June: CAF Gala...a drunken night...Gold Coast Tri (hated that one), Philly Tri (which turned into a duathalon -- did I mention hating these -- due to tragic reasons). Training..Timberman 70.3 will happen. Neuroma starts to get worse, but I will run through it. Trip to the DR (and the aftermath of that).
July: NYC Tri - the best day of the year. Close to 100 Parrtriathletes competing for a spot on the national team. Four weeks to Timberman...Trip to Newcomb for training and then watching IM Lake Placid (no IM bug for me). Camped for the first (and last time).
August: Decide to go to Budapest to support Paratri National Team, my bday, start of Chicago Marathon training...and Timberman 70.3 DONE!
September: Budapest...Amazing...Paratri World Championships...total admiration for my friends who came home with real hardware. Back home...back to Chicago Marathon training....Cortisone injection for neuroma. Decision to skip Reach the Beach.
October: Chicago Marathon (that heat still haunts me) with Julie, CAF SDTC with a great and larger group from NYC. Foot surgery (#3 of the year). Cane, .Das Boot!
November: NYC Marathon (Julie runs - I sit this one out - for her 40th Bday). Still in the boot, but get rid of cane...Cleared by Dr. Lai to train again...Beach2Battleship passes (another race I did not do this year). Thanksgiving!
December: Training, FTP test with Ben, hours on the bike trainer, miles in CP...New Years Eve...
By 2010...welcome 2011
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Sunday, October 17, 2010
The End of the Race Season…Chicago Marathon. From Hell and Back (literally)
Even though the 2010 Race Season could be dubbed the “Season on Injury” I wanted to end it with a big race. For that reason alone, I decide to participate (not race mind you) in the Chicago Marathon. My friend Julie Freeman and I signed up for in January when we were both injury free (it was also supposed to be Julie’s 40th birthday present), because it was taking place on October 10th (10-10-10) and the course was known to be flat and fast. Well the race didn’t turn out exactly as planned and after close to five hours (yes that even shocks me), on a close to ninety-degree day, I finished my second (and maybe last marathon). After the race, Julie and I both felt like we had gone to hell and were trying to make our way back (beer helped).
The weekend started off great. Arriving on Friday AM, I checked into the hotel, bought all race-day supplies, and made plans to meet up with Chicago Friends (Melissa Stockwell, Jean Draper and Michael Kirshner) after the race before picking Julie up at the airport and then heading to dinner at our friend and colleague, Jenna Becks’ house. Julie warned me she was not in race condition, a major ankle injury had her in an air-cast the week before; but I was even shocked to see her being on the platform of the T/Subway in a wheelchair with The Bible in hand (per plane reading material). Anyway, after a great home-cooked meal by Jenna we get back to the hotel and rest up.
Saturday was an interesting start. As soon as we entered the race registration hall, my left flip-flop literally broke in half. Walking around the expo literally looking for a new pair of flip-flops probably wasn’t the best idea, but who knew it would take me until the last booth we visited to find a pair. Perhaps I should have read into this omen for the race itself. The rest of the day, we hung in the hotel room to rest our legs/feet (I was constantly checking the web for updates on Kona as I had a handful of friends racing) before heading out to our colleague’s/friend’s house Christine Bailey who offered to host a small pre-race carb-loading dinner. The pre-race meal was a lot of fun – especially hanging out and sharing gossip with other work friends Kirsten Klimenko and Tisha Teeluck. Back in the hotel by 8:30am and in bed by 9:00pm.
The alarm goes off at 5:30am (sleeping in for a race believe it or not); I check my Garmin hoping it cooperates (unlike at Timberman), get ready and head to the corrals (we opted for the Open Wave because we forgot to submit times to allow us access to the seeded system). As we were checking the weather since Friday, we knew it was supposed to be hot – mid 70s during the race. This is less than ideal (put mildly) running weather, but the race organizers kept the level at Green (the best). We stretch/warm-up and get into the corrals to start the race. I tell Julie my lower back is really tight and ask her to stretch me out a bit. Hopefully it is phantom pain or the tightness will ease up as I start to run.
Because of my neuroma, I opted to follow the run/walk Galloway (me mentored by Reveka Wallace) method -- 1 minute of running and 1 minute of walking; I planned on following this for the first 20 miles and then if my foot allowed me, I was going to run the last 10k. The first mile or so was crowded (to put it mildly) that I had a hard enough time keeping to my system as Julie ran ahead (she wasn’t sure how much of the race she’d actually be able to complete due to her injury so wanted to try and get as far as she could). Continuing the cat/mouse game of passing people when I run and having people pass me as I walk, I decided to switch from a 1:1 to a 2:1 (two min run/one walk) as I felt good and my heart rate was in check.
For those who have seen me race, I sweat…a lot. But as the temperature started to rise (it was in the high 70s by Mile 4), I was soaked (my CAF tri top looked like I was competing in a tri and not a marathon). My nutrition plan called for drinking something at every aid station, taking some gel every hour and salt tablets every hour and a half (as Coach Neil says, hydrate early and often). Past Mile 10 (my half-way mark), I was passing the 4:45, 4:30 and was caught up with the 4:15 pace groups. At Mile 15 or so, I heard an announcement that the course conditioned changed..not from Green to Yellow, but from Green to Red (what the hell happened to Yellow?). The race organizers warned everyone to slow down, to hydrate and be careful. Always someone who listens to my body, I slowed my run pace a but, but still felt ok – no major back pain, I was hydrated and wasn’t cramping and was on goal pace.
The crowds were lined up all over the racecourse and really helped to motivate us - I often heard “go challenged athletes” as I either walked or ran past them. Thankfully no one was yelling “you’re almost there” at Mile 16 – like we don’t know exactly where we are on the course! I saw Kristen and her friend (and former relay teammate during the Chicago Tri in 2008) Karla Gross at Mile 16 and told them I was doing ok…10 miles to go. Coming up to the 18-mile aid station, I knew to look for Melissa who I knew was volunteering. I saw her, walked over gave her a five-five and a hung and kept on going (I heard her yelling only 8 to go, you got this). Indeed I did. But something suddenly wasn’t right.
As I approached Mile 20, I felt something terribly wrong in my legs. The muscles in my legs started to shake and then tighten whenever I was running. I didn’t think it was it was dehydration as I was taking in fluid regularly. It must be the damn heat. Ok, I’ll slow down and walk for a little more…and then a little more. I grab some ice from someone watching, put it down my back and on my head to try and cool my core down and keeping moving…I refuse to stop so while I am walking more often than I am running (I run as long as I can before the muscles started to twitch), I am walking towards the finish line.
By now (about Mile 22), it is like walking among the living dead…racers are literally sitting on the curbs, I see some EMS taking people off the course (some on stretchers), but hardly anyone is running. While it was only probably in the high 80s, it felt as lot hotter. I was no longer thinking about a goal time, but finishing – in one piece. When I am able to run (even if for 30 seconds), I pass people who were in the 3:30 pace group (this is a brutal day), but keep telling myself one foot in front of the other is closer to home. I pass Mile 25…1.2 to go and continue to struggle. More racers giving up sitting on the sidelines, the roar of the crowd gets louder every meter we get close to the finish line. I see the 800 Meter sign – ½ a mile to go… The last 400 meters of the race has a 100 meter uphill and then about 300 meters of downhill to the finish. I try running up the hill, but opt to walk, as I want to run, not walk across the finish line. At 300 Meters, I grunt, and dig as deep as I can and run…across the finish line…The first thing that pops into my mind – thank god this is over!
I grab my medal, a glass of beer, my dry clothing bag, and look for ice before heading back to the hotel. At the hotel I take an ice bath, stretch a little, and grab some food. Julie and I share horror stories – as she finished half an hour before me she saw some of the quicker athletes go down (literally) because of the heat. We ended the day with a great dinner at a Tapas place – Julie opted to sit with Jenna (and some of her friends) and our colleague/friend Deanna Derrig (and her husband Mike) and I opted to stay at the bar with Melissa, Michael, Jean and her friend Heather. At the end of the day, we both finished and both agreed that while Chicago may be a flat (and if we were healthy) a fast race, it’s checked off on our bucket lists and we won’t be returning.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
That's what Scout Said....
The best part of touring a City with Scout is that she will do anything you ask her to do...including posing with statutes. Here are just some of my spots staring Scout.
Budapest - Sightseeing
I decided to fly to Budapest early to check out this historic city - hey who knows when (or if) I'll ever come back here. I left NYC on Sunday and arrived in Budapest (via Brussels) on Monday around 12:30pm (that would be 6:30am EST) only to realize my promised international cell service wasn't working (thanks Verizon for not telling me I needed a special SIM card!). After a failed attempt to buy a temporary phone or SIM card, I met up with a few friends (Scout Bassett, Travis Ricks and Creighton Wong) who also came in early for dinner.
Tuesday the four of us explored a few areas of the City (great walking tours laid out on Frommers if you ever need a recommendation), but first breakfast at a local cafe. As we strolled up one of the City's largest streets -- I cannot even pronounce never mind spell it -- we thought we'd have a few hours before hitting our end goal -- one of Budapest's famous bathhouses.
Budapest is really an ancient city with deep roots. Funny factoid: There are actually two distinct areas of Budapest separated by the Danube River -- Buda on one side (which is hilly) and Pest (on the other side) which is flatter. There is another area Outer Buda which is much hillier than the Buda and was he original City.
We spent a considerable amount of time strolling down one Avenue, but got a chance to take in a large number of sites. During our tour, We saw some amazing building -- historic buildings to me are very cool -- the Opera House, former mansions which are now consulates -- and toured the National Museum and the Wall of Heroes (if that's what it's called). I was once told that when in a strange City, make sure to always look up to see the architecture; the frescos et al on the edges of the buildings are just amazing. The Museum was a bit of a disappointment as many of its notable pieces of art were on loan to other museum's (I bet one of them is the Met!).
Finally, our end destination...The Bathhouse -- not a bathhouse out of bad 1970s porn movie, but a large complex of over 20 pools of different sizes/shapes with different minerals - laid out over three floors. The four of us shared a single locker (this house was co-ed) and headed to just chill.
More pictures will be posted on Snapfish after the trip is over.
Tuesday the four of us explored a few areas of the City (great walking tours laid out on Frommers if you ever need a recommendation), but first breakfast at a local cafe. As we strolled up one of the City's largest streets -- I cannot even pronounce never mind spell it -- we thought we'd have a few hours before hitting our end goal -- one of Budapest's famous bathhouses.
We spent a considerable amount of time strolling down one Avenue, but got a chance to take in a large number of sites. During our tour, We saw some amazing building -- historic buildings to me are very cool -- the Opera House, former mansions which are now consulates -- and toured the National Museum and the Wall of Heroes (if that's what it's called). I was once told that when in a strange City, make sure to always look up to see the architecture; the frescos et al on the edges of the buildings are just amazing. The Museum was a bit of a disappointment as many of its notable pieces of art were on loan to other museum's (I bet one of them is the Met!).
Finally, our end destination...The Bathhouse -- not a bathhouse out of bad 1970s porn movie, but a large complex of over 20 pools of different sizes/shapes with different minerals - laid out over three floors. The four of us shared a single locker (this house was co-ed) and headed to just chill. More pictures will be posted on Snapfish after the trip is over.
Paratri World Championships - Budapest 2010
About 20 of our Country's best (meaning fastest) Paratri athletes are representing the U.S. on a world stage -- the ITU (International Triathlon Union) Grand Slam in Budapest on Saturday (9/11). I have the honor of being one of the Team's two official handlers (and defacto Co-Manager) -- along with Jon Beeson. This is going to be an amazing and memorable experience.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Timberman - My First 70.3
It has been a while since sending out a race report; actually for the past few months there has been nothing really to report. As most of you know, this past April while competing in the South Beach triathlon, I crashed my bike on a downhill turn and wound up with a broken wrist and a few battle scars. Originally scheduled for an intensive race schedule (three half Iornman races, two Olympic-distance races, and one Sprint-distance race; oh and a marathon), after the crash this was drastically scaled back. Instead of trying to do too much too soon, I focused only on my recovery and one half ironman race – Timberman. This past weekend, I notched another first in my triathlon “career” – completing my first half-ironman (or 70.3) race – in a little over 6:30 hours.
For those not familiar with a 70.3 race it consists of a 1.2 mile swim, a 56-mile bike ride and a 13.1 mile (or half marathon) run; one-half the distance of a full Ironman – hence the name – and is a test of both physical and mental abilities. Not only did my finish mean I was officially back, I proved to myself that I had the mental and physical ability to continue with a sport that has drastically changed my life. There are many people to thank for helping me get from broken/one-arm guy to a 70.3 finisher – first my family, doctors, CAF/Paratri folks (who know something about overcoming adversity) and my support network of friends and Asphalt Green Tri Club (AGTC) teammates.
Training for this distance is not about speed, it is long and slow…based on keeping a steady and calm heart rate (we typically train in Zone ranging from 1-5) and cadence (the number of times/minute you turnover the pedals on the bike). No longer was a 30-mile bike ride on a Saturday enough – I had to be sure that I was in my saddle for a good 4-5 hours. Short runs were 8+ miles and short dips in the pool were 1,500 meters. I mention this only a primer to the following – the Story of My First 70.3 Race….
Pre-Race
Timberman weekend was always about fun – a nice weekend away from NYC with teammates – those competing alongside me in the half as well as those doing the shorter, Sprint distance. Our journey started on Friday with a 5+ hour drive to Laconia, NH. Bryan Webber and I in one car, Kerry McGrath, Tom Mullane, David Weiss, Reveka Wallace, Anne Ronzoni and Randi Gordon in other cars (there we more than 25 of us from AGTC racing; these are just a handful of people). Bryan, David, Randi, Anne and I were first-timers at this distance. We all knew it was going to be a long, and hard day, but the party after was going to make it worth it. Bryan and I picked Tom up at the hotel and headed over to registration to meet up with David and Kerry and to do some pre-race shopping at the Ironman store (being superstitious, I never wear anything with a race logo until after it is done). Both Tom and Kerry were doing the Sprint on Saturday so after dinner, we called it a night. Saturday after watching Kerry and Tom compete, Bryan and I drove the bike course, swam a bit and biked part of the run course before racking our bikes (Ironman rules dictate that participants must rack their bikes in transition the night before a race).
While you can get a bit of a feel for a road when driving a course, you never really understand how much a hill hurts until you actually try pedaling up it. While testing the bikes, I realized my cadence monitor quit on me. Dumbfounded, I brought it to the on-site bike shop who couldn’t figure out the issue either. Nothing I can do about it; at least I have the Garmin to monitor my heart rate zone.
Following the same routine as I do before all races, I prepped my transition bag (check, all things there), had dinner with the team, downed my ambien and hit the bed.
Race morning…
My two alarms go off (can’t take any chances) at 3:30am; need to hit the road by 4:20am in order to secure a parking spot. We get to the race site and get one of the last remaining parking spots (maybe this is a sign of good things to come) and head over the transition to start setting up our areas. The forecast for the day called for 30% showers. Looking at the sky, it seemed more like 60%, but maybe we’ll get lucky and it’ll hold off until the run. As my wave is scheduled to go off at 7:40am I was prepared for down time. Looking down at my Garmin to see exactly how much time I have, I notice is reads 4:48am (not possible!). You have GOT TO BE KIDDING ME…my Garmin froze….of all times for this to happen! How am I supposed to race in the right heart rate zone if I cannot monitor it? Quickly I head to the bike shop and ask if they know any way to re-set the damn thing. Nope….ok, Plan C…let’s do this race by feel…I email Kerry who is in our cabin and hope that she can find my Timex watch so I can at least keep track of how long this damn thing is taking me…
I leave transition with David, Bryan and others and wait for the swim to start with the team. I watch the waves ahead of my start including the pros and slowly make my way up to the swim start. Kerry suddenly appears and hands me my Timex…ah at least I can monitor something (the control freak in me didn’t relish the idea of not having any data available). For me the swim is probably the segment I fear least, so while I am nervous, I am not panicking as I used do when I first started doing triathlons. We line up, get into the water (as this is an in-water, as opposed to beach, start) and wait for the journey to begin. The cannon goes off and so do we.
The Swim…
The lake is really shallow…shallow to the point where I can walk out over 50 yards of the swim. Bored, I just dive in and start swimming past people who are still wading into the water. Relaxed, I focus on sighting, pulling the water and breathing the way Coach Neil told me to do. The course was set up like a trapezoid – 750 meters put, 400 meters across and 750 meters back to shore. While choppy, the water is clear so I can see others in front of me. I keep following bubbles and strategically pass others until I see the last buoy and the swim exit gate. I pop out of the water when my hands hit sand and jog to shore saying hi to a few spectators I know and heading over to the wetsuit strippers (a luxury having someone else take off your suit). Time check…a little over 39 minutes; not bad. Knowing I have at least 6+ hours ahead of me, I take my time in transition, putting on socks, taking some water in, and mentally prepare for the next leg of the race.
The bike…
I jump of my bike (Malibu) and head out on the 56-mile journey. The course is an out and back loop- ~ 28 miles each way and fully expect that it will take me between 3:30 – 4 hours – especially as the bike is my weakest part of this crazy sport. Immediately out of transition we face our first hill. Letting others pass me, I get into my small ring and head up the hill. We finally hit some flat land when I hear Tom yell my name from the sidelines. I keep going…keep getting past, but just focus on trying to feel what a Zone 2 heart rate would feel like. By driving the course the day before I remembered that one of the biggest hills was around mile 9 – but w/o a way to track distance, I just wait for it. Oh year, there it is…I see other racers struggling up that damn thing. I get into an easier gear, grin and bear it. Up and over I keep saying…where there is an up, there has to be a down..somewhere…I keep telling myself “don’t push too hard, you have 45+ miles more to go and need to deal with this hill again.” Finally the hill crests and I head downhill. Given that my crash in Miami happened on a downhill, I am even more cautious not to pick up too much speed and ride my brakes (hell, I am not going through any more surgeries). Finally I hit a big stretch of road where I can go into my aero position, and try and open up a bit, just when it starts to rain, just a few sprinkles so it’s not that bad. During the next 15+ miles, I pass some people (but am still passed by more people than I pass), take in food (as crazy as it sounds, I trained using snickers bars for some nutrition; something I will change in future races), make sure I stay hydrated and take in salt tablets according to a personal schedule/clock I set up for myself. As the time on the bike increases so do the number of miles…Then I see the turn around and know I am at least headed in the right direction – home.
One piece of advice an AGTC teammate gave me when doing this distance is not to think too far ahead. So in my mind I was focused on 5 mile segments and not on the half marathon that awaited me. As I pass mile markers 30, 35, 40, 45, I am focused…not on time (which is kind of liberating), but on taking it all in. The rain is coming down a bit harder now, so I am even more cautious of the white lines and on the descents (again, I am here for the experience and not for a podium spot).
Suddenly I started to have this strange cramp-like feeling – thinking it’s a stitch cramp, I cough, breathe, take in water to get rid of it. But it’s not going away…then it hits me…it’s not a cramp, I have to pee (all of this focusing on taking in fluids, I had no plan for getting rid of it--note to self, learn how to pee on the bike for next race). I pass mile 50 and know that I have 6 miles – or one loop of Central Park to go. Staying calm, I pass others…one girl just says to anyone in earshot ,“I want off so I can have kids one day.” I laugh and say hell, I’ll marry you…she laughs back (too bad I have no idea what she looks like as we both were in our aero position). Finally the last hill (the one we faced when first leaving) and I am headed home. Two down, one to go…
The run….
I get off the bike, and mentally prepare to run 13.1 miles. Earlier this spring I developed a really bad neuroma, which for those who have never heard of it, an inflamed nerve in the ball of your foot which makes it feel as if your toes are on fire….not the best situation to try and run. Anyway, I ice my foot (another trick Neil suggested), pull on my shoes and head out……but first I hit the porta-potty.
The course is a two-loop, out and back run. This is great as you can see lots of people and you can get a good feel for the course. Having done a few half marathons, I know I can do the distance; I just have never done it after a 56-mile bike ride and a 1.2 mile swim). Knowing this I had to set a strategy…walk when needed, but run when able. Neil suggested that I pick a point to run and then run. However, it’s bad as you pass the finish line and see others ending their day when you now you have 6.5 more miles to run. As I head out, I am slow – much slower than my typical pace, but hey I am not going to win this thing. My foot is in some pain, and I stop once in a while to adjust my shoe and the pad to lessen the impact and the pain. At times it is pretty intense to the point that I need to sit down on the sidelines and rest the foot. I keep telling myself this is just four 3+ mile runs…take one segment at a time. I opted to walk through water stations and up the few hills – to both hydrate and get my heart rate down. I see Randi on the first loop out and decide to walk/run with her for a while. But I started to feel ok, so took off; it was great to know that if needed, she was behind me to mentally get me through this. Every once in a while I would glance at my watch to see how I was going. Going into my second loop (and seeing others finish – damn, 6.5 miles to go), I was running close to six hours…wow I was going to finish this thing.
On the second loop, I decided to employ the run/walk program Reveka lauds – hey, she ran five marathons in five months using it, so it had to have merits. I opt for a 1:2, 1:1 (one minute walking/one running…one minute walking/two minutes running…you get the idea). When I was able to run, it was great – passing people who were in all different types of pain – one racer even commented on my stride and cadence (that made me happy). As I head out for the first 3+ miles, I see other AGTC teammates finishing – I slap their hands as we pass, tell them I’ll see them soon and ask them to get me a beer… Finally, I hit the turn around – walking but saying to myself one foot in front of another…one foot in front of another. As I head to the finish line, I am with a few others who I use as pacers – I pass them when running and they pass me when I am walking. We trade positions for about 2-miles when I start to approach the last hill, I know that I have less than a mile to go. Head down and focused, I decide the walk for a few and then go for it.
Then I hear it…the sound of the finish line and the cheers…I am almost there…Kerry who has been standing on the run course watching everyone finish cheers and yells out my name…then it hits me, I am about to finish my first half ironman. Entering the finish chute I start to speed up get into my stride as I cross the finish line, grab my medal and then it hits me…I completed my first 70.3 race…
Wow, what an experience…yes I was in a lot of pain at times, yes I probably could have pushed more on the bike, but am so glad to be back physically and mentally.
Next up, the Chicago Marathon where I will be running with friend and colleague Julie Freeman to kick off her 40th b-day celebration.
For those not familiar with a 70.3 race it consists of a 1.2 mile swim, a 56-mile bike ride and a 13.1 mile (or half marathon) run; one-half the distance of a full Ironman – hence the name – and is a test of both physical and mental abilities. Not only did my finish mean I was officially back, I proved to myself that I had the mental and physical ability to continue with a sport that has drastically changed my life. There are many people to thank for helping me get from broken/one-arm guy to a 70.3 finisher – first my family, doctors, CAF/Paratri folks (who know something about overcoming adversity) and my support network of friends and Asphalt Green Tri Club (AGTC) teammates.
Training for this distance is not about speed, it is long and slow…based on keeping a steady and calm heart rate (we typically train in Zone ranging from 1-5) and cadence (the number of times/minute you turnover the pedals on the bike). No longer was a 30-mile bike ride on a Saturday enough – I had to be sure that I was in my saddle for a good 4-5 hours. Short runs were 8+ miles and short dips in the pool were 1,500 meters. I mention this only a primer to the following – the Story of My First 70.3 Race….
Pre-Race
Timberman weekend was always about fun – a nice weekend away from NYC with teammates – those competing alongside me in the half as well as those doing the shorter, Sprint distance. Our journey started on Friday with a 5+ hour drive to Laconia, NH. Bryan Webber and I in one car, Kerry McGrath, Tom Mullane, David Weiss, Reveka Wallace, Anne Ronzoni and Randi Gordon in other cars (there we more than 25 of us from AGTC racing; these are just a handful of people). Bryan, David, Randi, Anne and I were first-timers at this distance. We all knew it was going to be a long, and hard day, but the party after was going to make it worth it. Bryan and I picked Tom up at the hotel and headed over to registration to meet up with David and Kerry and to do some pre-race shopping at the Ironman store (being superstitious, I never wear anything with a race logo until after it is done). Both Tom and Kerry were doing the Sprint on Saturday so after dinner, we called it a night. Saturday after watching Kerry and Tom compete, Bryan and I drove the bike course, swam a bit and biked part of the run course before racking our bikes (Ironman rules dictate that participants must rack their bikes in transition the night before a race). While you can get a bit of a feel for a road when driving a course, you never really understand how much a hill hurts until you actually try pedaling up it. While testing the bikes, I realized my cadence monitor quit on me. Dumbfounded, I brought it to the on-site bike shop who couldn’t figure out the issue either. Nothing I can do about it; at least I have the Garmin to monitor my heart rate zone.
Following the same routine as I do before all races, I prepped my transition bag (check, all things there), had dinner with the team, downed my ambien and hit the bed.
Race morning…
My two alarms go off (can’t take any chances) at 3:30am; need to hit the road by 4:20am in order to secure a parking spot. We get to the race site and get one of the last remaining parking spots (maybe this is a sign of good things to come) and head over the transition to start setting up our areas. The forecast for the day called for 30% showers. Looking at the sky, it seemed more like 60%, but maybe we’ll get lucky and it’ll hold off until the run. As my wave is scheduled to go off at 7:40am I was prepared for down time. Looking down at my Garmin to see exactly how much time I have, I notice is reads 4:48am (not possible!). You have GOT TO BE KIDDING ME…my Garmin froze….of all times for this to happen! How am I supposed to race in the right heart rate zone if I cannot monitor it? Quickly I head to the bike shop and ask if they know any way to re-set the damn thing. Nope….ok, Plan C…let’s do this race by feel…I email Kerry who is in our cabin and hope that she can find my Timex watch so I can at least keep track of how long this damn thing is taking me…
I leave transition with David, Bryan and others and wait for the swim to start with the team. I watch the waves ahead of my start including the pros and slowly make my way up to the swim start. Kerry suddenly appears and hands me my Timex…ah at least I can monitor something (the control freak in me didn’t relish the idea of not having any data available). For me the swim is probably the segment I fear least, so while I am nervous, I am not panicking as I used do when I first started doing triathlons. We line up, get into the water (as this is an in-water, as opposed to beach, start) and wait for the journey to begin. The cannon goes off and so do we.
The Swim…
The lake is really shallow…shallow to the point where I can walk out over 50 yards of the swim. Bored, I just dive in and start swimming past people who are still wading into the water. Relaxed, I focus on sighting, pulling the water and breathing the way Coach Neil told me to do. The course was set up like a trapezoid – 750 meters put, 400 meters across and 750 meters back to shore. While choppy, the water is clear so I can see others in front of me. I keep following bubbles and strategically pass others until I see the last buoy and the swim exit gate. I pop out of the water when my hands hit sand and jog to shore saying hi to a few spectators I know and heading over to the wetsuit strippers (a luxury having someone else take off your suit). Time check…a little over 39 minutes; not bad. Knowing I have at least 6+ hours ahead of me, I take my time in transition, putting on socks, taking some water in, and mentally prepare for the next leg of the race.
The bike…
I jump of my bike (Malibu) and head out on the 56-mile journey. The course is an out and back loop- ~ 28 miles each way and fully expect that it will take me between 3:30 – 4 hours – especially as the bike is my weakest part of this crazy sport. Immediately out of transition we face our first hill. Letting others pass me, I get into my small ring and head up the hill. We finally hit some flat land when I hear Tom yell my name from the sidelines. I keep going…keep getting past, but just focus on trying to feel what a Zone 2 heart rate would feel like. By driving the course the day before I remembered that one of the biggest hills was around mile 9 – but w/o a way to track distance, I just wait for it. Oh year, there it is…I see other racers struggling up that damn thing. I get into an easier gear, grin and bear it. Up and over I keep saying…where there is an up, there has to be a down..somewhere…I keep telling myself “don’t push too hard, you have 45+ miles more to go and need to deal with this hill again.” Finally the hill crests and I head downhill. Given that my crash in Miami happened on a downhill, I am even more cautious not to pick up too much speed and ride my brakes (hell, I am not going through any more surgeries). Finally I hit a big stretch of road where I can go into my aero position, and try and open up a bit, just when it starts to rain, just a few sprinkles so it’s not that bad. During the next 15+ miles, I pass some people (but am still passed by more people than I pass), take in food (as crazy as it sounds, I trained using snickers bars for some nutrition; something I will change in future races), make sure I stay hydrated and take in salt tablets according to a personal schedule/clock I set up for myself. As the time on the bike increases so do the number of miles…Then I see the turn around and know I am at least headed in the right direction – home.
One piece of advice an AGTC teammate gave me when doing this distance is not to think too far ahead. So in my mind I was focused on 5 mile segments and not on the half marathon that awaited me. As I pass mile markers 30, 35, 40, 45, I am focused…not on time (which is kind of liberating), but on taking it all in. The rain is coming down a bit harder now, so I am even more cautious of the white lines and on the descents (again, I am here for the experience and not for a podium spot).
Suddenly I started to have this strange cramp-like feeling – thinking it’s a stitch cramp, I cough, breathe, take in water to get rid of it. But it’s not going away…then it hits me…it’s not a cramp, I have to pee (all of this focusing on taking in fluids, I had no plan for getting rid of it--note to self, learn how to pee on the bike for next race). I pass mile 50 and know that I have 6 miles – or one loop of Central Park to go. Staying calm, I pass others…one girl just says to anyone in earshot ,“I want off so I can have kids one day.” I laugh and say hell, I’ll marry you…she laughs back (too bad I have no idea what she looks like as we both were in our aero position). Finally the last hill (the one we faced when first leaving) and I am headed home. Two down, one to go…
The run….
I get off the bike, and mentally prepare to run 13.1 miles. Earlier this spring I developed a really bad neuroma, which for those who have never heard of it, an inflamed nerve in the ball of your foot which makes it feel as if your toes are on fire….not the best situation to try and run. Anyway, I ice my foot (another trick Neil suggested), pull on my shoes and head out……but first I hit the porta-potty.
The course is a two-loop, out and back run. This is great as you can see lots of people and you can get a good feel for the course. Having done a few half marathons, I know I can do the distance; I just have never done it after a 56-mile bike ride and a 1.2 mile swim). Knowing this I had to set a strategy…walk when needed, but run when able. Neil suggested that I pick a point to run and then run. However, it’s bad as you pass the finish line and see others ending their day when you now you have 6.5 more miles to run. As I head out, I am slow – much slower than my typical pace, but hey I am not going to win this thing. My foot is in some pain, and I stop once in a while to adjust my shoe and the pad to lessen the impact and the pain. At times it is pretty intense to the point that I need to sit down on the sidelines and rest the foot. I keep telling myself this is just four 3+ mile runs…take one segment at a time. I opted to walk through water stations and up the few hills – to both hydrate and get my heart rate down. I see Randi on the first loop out and decide to walk/run with her for a while. But I started to feel ok, so took off; it was great to know that if needed, she was behind me to mentally get me through this. Every once in a while I would glance at my watch to see how I was going. Going into my second loop (and seeing others finish – damn, 6.5 miles to go), I was running close to six hours…wow I was going to finish this thing.
On the second loop, I decided to employ the run/walk program Reveka lauds – hey, she ran five marathons in five months using it, so it had to have merits. I opt for a 1:2, 1:1 (one minute walking/one running…one minute walking/two minutes running…you get the idea). When I was able to run, it was great – passing people who were in all different types of pain – one racer even commented on my stride and cadence (that made me happy). As I head out for the first 3+ miles, I see other AGTC teammates finishing – I slap their hands as we pass, tell them I’ll see them soon and ask them to get me a beer… Finally, I hit the turn around – walking but saying to myself one foot in front of another…one foot in front of another. As I head to the finish line, I am with a few others who I use as pacers – I pass them when running and they pass me when I am walking. We trade positions for about 2-miles when I start to approach the last hill, I know that I have less than a mile to go. Head down and focused, I decide the walk for a few and then go for it. Then I hear it…the sound of the finish line and the cheers…I am almost there…Kerry who has been standing on the run course watching everyone finish cheers and yells out my name…then it hits me, I am about to finish my first half ironman. Entering the finish chute I start to speed up get into my stride as I cross the finish line, grab my medal and then it hits me…I completed my first 70.3 race…
Wow, what an experience…yes I was in a lot of pain at times, yes I probably could have pushed more on the bike, but am so glad to be back physically and mentally.
Next up, the Chicago Marathon where I will be running with friend and colleague Julie Freeman to kick off her 40th b-day celebration.
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