World's Toughest Half 2012 Race Report

What is the one sound that will make any cyclists/triathlete’s heart jump?  PSSSSSTTTTTT! 

And that is how I began my day at the World’s Toughest Half in Auburn this past weekend (May 20^th).  As I finished getting my bike ready and was about to head off to the first transition at 5:45am… PSSSSTTTT!  For those of you that may not be aware of the sound, it is not someone trying to get your attention; it is the sound of a tube under pressure rapidly losing air. 

This was my first race on the new ride (affectionately nicknamed by my wife as “White Lightning.”)  Likewise, it was my first race on the new racing tires/tubes.  I had only swapped out the tubes once before and everything had gone according to plan.  This time, my installation was sub-par and I was bearing witness to that fact at 5:45am on race day.  A flat tire isn’t a big deal if it happens in your garage, but when you are a 2 hour drive away from your garage, and you only brought the one spare tube in your bike bag, it can be unnerving. 

Luckily for me, I happened to park my car next to a guy who, openly admitted to over packing and had a colorful euphemism for it.  Forever more, this will be a positive reference for me as he threw me an extra tube he had in his car and was kind enough to hold the back end of my bike while I changed the tube. 

This good samaritan is also working with the same coach I do and we have another mutual friend/cycling buddy we both talked to the day before.  O' what a small world it is in triathlon.  Lessons learned: 1) Keep an extra tube in your car, just in case and 2) Don't be afraid to say "hi" to the person in the car parked next to you.  They might just save your race.

If you are not familiar with the World’s Toughest Half course, it is a two transition course, so it does pose some interesting logistical challenges.  The first of which is that you get to ride your bike for 20 minutes (basically downhill) from T2 to get to T1 and the swim start.  This is all well and good, but something you also need to be aware of is that late packet pick-up (which I used on this day for the first time) is at T1.  The challenge this created was when you are trying to set up your T2 with your running shoes, sunglasses and race number before you ride 20 minutes downhill to pick up your race number.  I addressed this challenge by wearing my run belt with number attached throughout the bike ride.  Not particularly issue presenting, but a logistical challenge I would have rather avoided.  Lesson learned: Pick up your packet before race morning if at all possible.

As I rolled into T1, I realized that the area is packed with bikes.  Thanks to my delayed arrival, there is only one spot left, so I take it.  It also happens to be across the path from the “over-packer” that saved my bacon with a spare tube earlier in the story.  I also noticed that a couple of the transition spots appeared to be marked like a reserved spot.  The two I saw were apparently marked for Tim DeBoom and Scott Molina.  “WOW,” I say to myself, this race has attracted some big time talent.  I am admittedly star struck.  I am very fired up now and ready to race with a couple of the best racers that have ever stepped up to a start line.

As I get to the swim start, I recall that last year the swim course was long and I should be ready for a longer than normal half IM swim.  For me this means roughly 30 minutes on average and last year was 39.  As we get the countdown, I remember that I haven’t really looked at the course to see if they have corrected this, but the announcer did say “two-lap swim” just like last year, so I hope they did.  Besides, there are always people in front of me, so I will just find some feet to draft on and it will all be good.  I have positioned myself on the front line of the swim start and to the outside as to minimize any “congestion” at the first turn, but still be able to take a good angle at the next turn buoy. 

And we are off…within the first three minutes, I spot two guys swimming fast on the inside.  So fast in fact, that they are already 25-30 yards ahead of me.  I think to myself, “that has got to be Tim and Scott.”  I am now on a first name basis with these living legends now that we have started the same race.  I don’t want to get too caught up in trying to stay with them, so I stay focused on getting into my own rhythm and wait for the next fast swimmer to come by.  There is one guy next to me that apparently had a similar thought except he decided I was going to be his rabbit and pulled in behind me.  Within a couple of minutes, I take a look back and realize that guy has completely lost the plot as the closest swimmer is now 25-30 yards behind me. 

Ok then, stay focused on the first turn buoy.  I will just swim at a comfortable pace and wait for more traffic.  My theory is that if I swim comfortably and draft, I will be significantly faster without having to waste any energy unnecessarily in the swim.  After the first turn, there was nobody around.  Mid-way between the first turn and the second, I begin to pass the sprint distance swimmers that started about 15 minutes before we did and I decide to steer clear not to spook anyone as I go by.  I go around the second turn and around toward the start line.  Again, no other swimmers from my event have gone by.

At this point, I start to wonder if it was me and not my drafting friend that had lost the plot, but I can’t do anything about it now as I am basically swimming by myself.  The two in front of me are specs in the distance and there isn’t really anyone around me either.

The second lap was uneventful and more of the same solitary swimming.  As I exit the water, I hear one of the spectators say “you’re third and fourth.”  Which catches me off guard as I thought something must have been wrong.  I turn around and there is another guy about 10 feet behind me that must have put on quite a surge at the end. 

Out of the water in 34:25 and that was the 2^nd fastest swim in my age group.  The fastest swim of the day was 29:26, so I am pretty sure the course was longer than standard.

T1 was uneventful and as I get out on the road, I think to myself “I am in third position behind Scott Molina and Tim DeBoom.  It is about time for the cyclists to start coming out of the water, so I better enjoy this while it lasts.”  It turned out to last about 30 minutes until the first cyclists caught up with me, so I was content with how long I had held them off.  One of the first was a heavily tattooed guy that looked like he should be riding motorcycles with the Metal Mulisha, not pushing pedals up a hill, but he passed me without any obvious effort so there was no need for me to try to chase him.  I wanted to stay focused on my pacing, while not blowing myself up and put together a good run at the end.

The “World’s Toughest Half” gets its name because of a couple of things.  1) Over 3800 feet of climbing in 56 miles on the bike and 2) a hilly run course.  The course starts with a steady and mostly continuous climb the first 6 miles with a little reprieve once you go by the park that doubles as T1.  While there are only a few really steep pitches, it is not unlike many other local climbs with some wide open switch backs and elevating rollers.  Once I got through town, I knew there would be some more substantial rolling hills for a while, with the next big climb coming around 30 miles into the course. 

At around mile 26 you get a pretty good little climb that allows you to descend for the next 2 miles on a fast and technical decent.  I am a complete wimp when it comes to descending so I take it easy, feathering my brakes the entire ride down.  This ride down is into a campground which has several spectators sitting in lounge chairs looking at you like you are from Mars as you zip by them at 30+ miles an hour on a few millimeters of rubber wearing weird clothes and in a completely unnatural position.  While rolling through this campground I was reminded that “what goes down, must go back up,” so I thought it would be a good idea to keep up as much speed as possible in order to keep my momentum for the 2 mile climb out of this campground. 

Unfortunately for me, this is when I notice my rear tire feeling oddly harsh and getting worse quickly.  Within 30 seconds, it is official.  I have flatted again.  This is the second time today on the same tire and not at a good place on the course.  I will be wasting lots of momentum.  In retrospect it was certainly better than losing a tire at 30 miles an hour going down a technical descent.

As this was my rear wheel (equiped with an aero cover) using the Pitstop I brought along in case of a flat would not be feasible.  So at this point, I know I have to change this tire effectively as I only have one spare tube on my bike, and a “do-over” is not an option.  This is also when I thank my lucky stars that the “over packer” was there to save my bacon this morning.  Otherwise, I would have had a 2 mile, uphill walk followed by roughly 6 more miles to walk to the next aide station.

Tire changed and back on the road, I am consciously counting down the miles to the next aide station.  If I have to walk, it will only be 5 miles, 4 miles etc… 

For being a guy that has never flatted before in a race, I was on edge.  As I go by the aide station, I find out that they do not have any spare tubes, nor do they have a pump with a pressure gauge.  I was pretty confident that I got the tire up to pressure, but if I had an issue with the tire I didn’t detect and I had another flat, my day was over.  I wanted to check the pressure if I could.   

I continued to pass other cyclists as I rode, but they were mostly the guys and gal that passed me while I flatted.  It was nice to pass some folks for a change.  I knew I had lost several minutes changing the flat and would have to put down some watts if I wanted to make up the time.  I decided, it was going to be more important for me to stick with my cycling strategy and not dig myself too much of a hole that I couldn’t run out of, so I kept the effort solid and let the lost time be.

I also knew that I had 2 more notable climbs left.  One is roughly 2.5 mile climb that is not too steep, but constant and one that is relatively short, but very steep.  The second is called the “LeMond Walked Climb.”  I don’t know if LeMond actually walked this climb, but is it one of the steepest climbs I have ever done.  After this, it is roughly 6 miles of cruising through town and net descending rollers.  It was easy enough. I got off the bike and through T2 without a hitch. 

Bike split was 3:19.  This was 5 minutes faster than last year and this year I also had to change a flat which took approximately 7 minutes, so I was relatively pleased.

The run course at WTH is three loops on a 7k course.  Last year when I competed here, I was forced to walk the last two laps in an effort to avoid the dreaded “DNF.”  Today, there would be no stopping me and no walking either (outside aide stations.)  I had done plenty of walking on this course last year and I was ready to run.

The first third of the run loop is on a shaded dirt trail next to a little canal.  After that, you have basically 1 mile of downhill on pavement and gravel, a small trail loop “turn-around” and then you get to run 1 mile up hill on the same pavement and gravel. 

The first third of the lap was pretty nice as far as Half Ironman run courses go.  It was very quiet and peaceful.  When I got out to the down-hill section, I realized it was much brighter than I anticipated.  You really notice the sun when you have been running in the shade for several minutes. 

Just before the loop, I spotted the guy that helped me with my flat earlier that morning coming out of the loop.  He had passed me when I was changing my tire at the bottom of the campground and now I could get a gauge of roughly how much time I had lost.  I knew that catching him would be a challenge, but it would give me something to shoot for and take my mind off the heat.  There was not a cloud in the sky and it was probably close to 90 degrees.  While running uphill is not my favorite thing to do, running uphills in the heat is even further down my list.  I thought a distraction might be helpful.  As I came out of the loop I marked the spot and I was about 4 and a half minutes behind him.  At least I knew where I was, and I had a mark on the course.

I finished the first lap in ~33:30 and while my pace per mile was not ideal, I thought it was decent.  If I paced out the rest of the run the same way, I would end up with a 1:40ish run split, and that sounded pretty good to me. 

I saw my well-tattooed competitor again going back into the canyon on lap 2.  It appeared as though his hard charging bike strategy had come back to haunt him as he was now walking and stretching.  While unfortunate for him, I looked at this as a reminder that I had approached the bike correctly and as I ran by, I gave him a nod and a “thumbs up.”  I know what it is like to walk on this course and while my walk last year was mostly elective (as I was recovering from an injury) that doesn’t make it any easier.

On the way out of the “canyon” the second time, there were people stopping and walking about every 20-30 yards.  It felt good to still be able to run and not be forced to walk.  At every aide station, ice went into my pockets and water/sponges over my head.  The cooling strategy was working (mostly) and on the way out of the canyon, I noticed a nice breeze.  Generally, I am not a fan of head-winds, but this one was pleasant.  I wasn’t going to complain.

I started my third lap at ~1:09 into the run.  I knew this meant my ~34 minutes/lap pace was holding together pretty well, but I was starting to hurt.  I could really feel my quads paying for all that hill climbing earlier in the day.  I just kept telling myself “It is only 4 miles.  How many times have you run 4 miles?”  I tried to focus on my run form cues every mile, but it was getting hard.  Cadence and Turnover…Knees up…Strong Core…Heels and Toes up…

About mile 10, I saw my friend from the morning.  He was several hundred yards ahead of me beyond a bend in the road and he was coming back in my direction so we shared a few words.  I yelled “don’t let me catch you” in an attempt to encourage both of us to push as hard as we could.  Having him ahead of me made for a great visual cue and distraction from the pain in my legs.  I ended up catching him at mile 12, and we shared a couple of words in passing. 

Finishing the race was a big personal accomplishment as I felt that I was able to push hard on the bike and still hold together a pretty good run.  I ended up finishing the run in 1:45.  While this was about 3 minutes behind my Half IM run PR, I knew this was on a much harder course and the bike before it might as well have been on a different planet. 

After all of this work, I finished 4^th in my age group and 14^th overall.  When I checked my time, the person helping me said “oh… you were so close to third, you would have gotten an award….”  Third place in my age group was actually 10 minutes ahead of me, so I don’t think that I was really all that close.  Who knows, maybe someday...without a flat and some more time on the bike, I might get there.  Additionally, I found out that 1^st and 2^nd place overall were also 1^st and 2^nd in my age group so things were pretty competitive in the 35-39 bracket out there on that day and I am pleased with the result.

While packing up my stuff in T2 and getting ready to leave, I also noticed several other transition spots were apparently marked for other famous competitors.  At the end of each of the racks, it appeared as though there was a spot reserved for a specific athlete.  Michellie Jones was racing here too????  Wait a minute…  When I saw the sign that appeared to be saving a spot for Jeff Spicoli and had a picture of Sean Penn in his classic role, I realized that the pictures of these famous racers were nothing more than a way of marking which row your bike was racked on or where your shoes were stashed.  They were not actual place-holders.  I am pretty sure that I would have beaten Sponge-Bob on row 16 out of T1 anyway.  My delusions of grandeur in racing with the “big-boys” were shattered, but at least it was a good day out on the swim-bike-run.

Thanks for taking the time to read my report.  I hope you enjoyed it.

If you are interested in doing the race.  Just do it.  It is a difficult course, but they also have a sprint distance and a duathlon if you are so inclined.  The organizers do a great job and it is a local gem of a race. 

Now it is time to focus on Vineman 70.3 in July.  It was a great race last year and it is going to be a good measuring stick on how much I have improved over a year of hard training.

Cheers,
Justin