Expedition Man Long Course 2012 (August 25th) Race Report

Overview of the race-

This is a great home-grown race.  2012 was its first year and the race director is already doing a lot of things right.  As with any race, there are things that could be improved, but this crew is on the right track.

It is a unique adventure through Western Nevada.  This race has a lot to offer the endurance athlete that is interested in a moderately challenging course with some great scenery.  The swim is in Zephyr Cove which is located on the Southeastern edge of Lake Tahoe.  From there you ride west to Carson City and then north to Sparks.  The run takes you on a beautiful trail from Sparks to Reno and back.  

This is considered a "festival" of events which means they have several events going at the same time.  In this case, they have a "Long Distance" (Half Iron) and "Ultra Distance" (Full Iron) triathlons as well as Aquabike events for both distances and they have relay divisions for each event.  This is not uncommon for new races to have several different options for participation.

The professionalism of the race is tremendous.  While it may not quite be up to the standards set by some of the behemoths in the industry, this race is head and shoulders above many other races and race series that have been in existence for years.  The event is well supported by truckloads of volunteers and the race has (at last count) over 35 sponsors.  The swag was quality and the marketing/promotional materials were very well done. 

The Swim - 1.2 miles
Air temperature was in the high 50's and the water temperature was in the low 70's (71 the day before).  You would think this would make the water feel warmer than the outside air, but it didn't.  Regarding my swim gear, I wore my sleeveless Xterra Vortex 3 wetsuit and Zootz neoprene cap (just to be on the safe side.)  I found the neoprene cap did a great job of keeping my head warm, but also effectively muted my swimming metronome, so I will need to find a different solution for this in the future.  The sleeveless wetsuit was sufficiently warm and buoyant while still leaving me with plenty of flexibility through my shoulders.

Swimming in Lake Tahoe in late August was an enjoyable experience.  The water was calm, clear and cool, but not cold.  The swim started a little later than publicized, but started shortly after sunrise and I would rather not swim in the dark, so I was not too bothered.  This is a picture of what it looked like at roughly the time we were originally supposed to start. 

This is what it looked like when we actually started.  If you look very closely, you can see the first red triangular buoy about 1/4 of the way into the picture from the left.

My plan was to start hard for the first 200ish yards and then find some feet to draft off.  When I picked my head up to look around, there was one guy about 30 yards ahead of me and no one else around.  I figured that if he was in my wave, I had no business trying to catch up to him, and if he was in the wave ahead of mine (that left 10 minutes earlier) I would zoom by him shortly.  After 20-30 strokes, I was not getting any closer to him, so I concluded that I would be swimming by myself.

By the time I rounded the first buoy, I started to feel the altitude.  The difference I could tell is that it was harder to get a good breath.  I felt like a "big" breath was only getting me about 80% of the air I needed.  It was not devastating, but noticeable.

I swam through several of the swimmers in the wave ahead, but as it was a small race, there was not any real "congestion" and there was plenty of room to swim around.  Recently in my swim training, I had been focusing on swimming more with my back muscles than my arms and I think this mental focus helped to make the swim feel easier and perhaps a little faster.

I exited the water just under 23 minutes.  This is 4 minutes faster than my previous personal best.  Debbie told me as I ran by that I was second out of the water, so I was pretty excited.  Even though my initial thought was that the course may have been about 300 yards short, everyone racing that day has to race the same course and the folks I spoke with after the race felt like it was the correct distance.   

Due to the cool air temperature and a substantial descent in the first third of the bike (1400ft over 9 miles), I thought it would be best to put on some arm warmers in transition.  As I had to wrestle them on over wet arms, my first transition was longer than it needed to be.  I saw a few guys run by me, so I knew I had lost some time against the field in Transition, but it is better to be safe than sorry.

Bike – 56 miles

Plan – Break the ride up into three 18.6 mile sections.  Attempt to keep the power output at 220 watts throughout each section.

This ride starts with a fair amount of climbing out of Zephyr Cove (6300ft) to get you to the top of Spooner Summit (7100ft) over the first 9 miles.  While there was some construction on this portion of the road, there was very little traffic. 

This is a picture of one of the brief descents in the first 9 miles of the course.  Due to the small field size and limited traffic, my wife and "team photographer" was able to stop on course and take a few pictures.

This is where the ride gets really interesting.  From the top of Spooner Summit you ride down Highway 50 to Carson City (4687ft) over the next 9 miles.  Better and more confident riders would be able to bomb down this hill and really enjoy it.  I on the other hand, was not exactly confident and chose to stop twice as the bike felt like something was wrong with the rear tire. 

In retrospect, I think it was the cross winds blowing through the canyons and making the bike feel like it was slipping sideways.  My top speed on this section of the course was 44.6 miles per hour.  I am not exactly familiar with the aerodynamics and handling of my bike at speeds like this, and this probably contributed to my anxiety.  This is something I should work on before my next race with substantial descending.  I am really glad the race director did not allow disc wheels on this course as I am sure it would have made things much worse.  My power numbers in the first lap were way off target (174 watts) but I rationalized that to the variability of the terrain and coasting for the majority of 9 miles.

The Second section of the bike took us through Carson City and through some of the bike trails on the west side of the city.  As I was going through one of the neighborhoods, one of the volunteers told me I was in 7^th and was about 1:50 back from the next rider.  I knew I lost a couple of spots in transition and could only remember being passed twice in the first section on the bike so that sounded about right. 

About a quarter mile later, I passed the 6^th cyclist getting some assistance with a flat tire from what looked like a race mechanical vehicle.  As I have been there several times myself in the last couple months, I felt for the guy.

Within the next few miles I heard another rider coming up fast on my left.  I thought it would be a good idea to see if I could pace off of him for a while to pick my speed up, but as he went by I was reminded of the “festival” atmosphere.  The rider was dressed in what appeared to be a head-to-toe spandex-ish kit including white zippered shoe covers.  This was obviously a relay team member as no self-respecting triathlete would take the time to put on a kit like that in transition.  I was able to keep him in sight for several miles and I felt good about that.  Eventually, he went off into the distance and I went back to my solo work. 

The power on my second lap was an average of 209, but the effort (perceived exertion) felt right.  There was more climbing on that lap than I had anticipated, so I decided not to race solely by the power meter.  I stuck with my plan and did not do anything drastic.  The split time was 54 minutes and as such was about 8 minutes longer than I had anticipated for that section. 

Toward the end of the third section I went through an intersection at the same time as a police officer on a motorcycle was moving between intersections.  I effectively got a police escort through a couple intersections in southern Sparks which was coincidental, but very cool.  I imagine that has got to be somewhat like Crowie or Macca feel like as they are leading a race. 

I finished the third section with watts averaging 206 and at a time of 44 minutes.  This was a lot closer to my time expectation, but my watts were still a bit low. 

The sheer number of volunteers on this course was staggering.  Almost every corner between three different cities had volunteers pointing the right way to go.  While the last few volunteers’ sense of direction left a little to be desired (they directed me in the “Run Out” part of the transition) it was a very well supported section of the race.

Overall bike split was 2:33:45 with average watts of 196.  I thought I was in 6^th place at this point.  As it turns out, my power meter is actually out of calibration and I believe that is why my race watts were low for the level of effort I thought was right.  Hopefully I will be able to get that squared away before Arizona in November.

The best support crew ever (and me.)

I got through the second transition fairly quickly and was very happy to see my support crew there.  Debbie, Grace, William and my in-laws (Jerry and Pam - not pictured) were all there to cheer me on (and to give me sunglasses I had neglected to put in my transition area the day before – oops).  I am very lucky to have a family that is so supportive of me and my athletic obsessive compulsion.   

Run – 13.1-ish miles  Temperature was in the high 70’s to mid 80’s.

As you leave the transition area at this race you start by running over a fairly substantial overpass.  The run course then takes you along a bike path that follows the Truckee River to Reno.  It was very scenic and not crowded.

My initial goal was to try running at my open half marathon PR pace and to see how long I could hold that pace.  It became apparent early on that I was not ready to run at that pace for any length of time.  I had not done any training at this pace, I was simply being too ambitious in my race planning.

The back story to this ambitious thought…Two weeks ago I was guiding a good friend, Richard Hunter, through the Tri Santa Cruz Olympic distance course.  I thought I was going to be running a leisurely 10k at the end as Richard had been coming off a significant amount of recovery time and had not been doing any speed work…or at least that is what he told me. 

Richard set (what was for me) a blistering pace and “led” me through 99% of the run.  As I was very concerned about “losing” the “blind guy” I was running with and supposed to be guiding through the course, I really had to push myself to keep up and not slow Richard down.  At the finish, I missed my open 10k PR that day by about 5 seconds.  This led me to believe that perhaps I am just not pushing myself hard enough in the triathlon run and should really push to see what I can do.  So much for ambitious plans without the trainging to back it up...

My original plan had been to break the run into 4 sections and I had determined that my open half marathon pace would have been 23:15 per quarter (roughly 7:05 per mile). 

By mile 3, I was able to see the next racer ahead of me.  I saw him walk through an aide station and try to do a calf stretch, and I knew I could take him.  While I was not running fast (~7:30 minutes/mile at that point), I was running and I knew I could catch him.  From the first time I saw him to passing him was less than a mile and I tried to cheer him on a little bit as I went by. 

As I ended the first section in 24:17 (7:25 per mile), I knew I was averaging about 20 seconds per mile behind the pace I had hoped for and determined I should just do the best I could do on the day.  Perhaps I need to have Richard pace me though one of these half Ironman distance runs…

I did not see another runner until about 5 miles into the run.  This was the first runner I had seen coming back from the turn around.  In passing, he mentioned the course was a mile short.  If that was the case, he was only 2 miles ahead of me.  Don’t get me wrong.  At this point in the race, 2 miles is a LONG way, but I was surprised to learn that I was only 2 miles behind the overall race leader.

As I got closer to the turn-around, I noticed one other runner running toward me but we were just at the point where the “turnaround” became a loop.  It was a counter clockwise loop around a large parking lot and then you ran back to the finish along the same trail you ran out on.  My fellow racer was leaving the loop as I was going in. 

The “turnaround point” (according to the volunteer standing there writing down race numbers) was at exactly 6 miles on the run.

My second lap ended with a time of 24:49 (7:36 per mile).  While this was still quite a bit slower than I had targeted, my average heart rate was getting closer to the range I had hoped for.  On my long training runs, I had been working off heart rate targets as pace can change quite a bit due to terrain and environment.  If I couldn’t push my open half marathon pace for very long, I at least wanted to get my effort level right.  Running at altitude should take more work to get the same pace anyway.

A couple miles into my third section, an oncoming runner said “you are in third.”  This completely blew me away.  I had never been third overall in any race anywhere, and here I was.  I was past half way on a half iron distance run and I was third OVERALL.  I didn’t know what had happened to the other racers, but I figured since this guy really had no reason to lie, it must be at least possible. 

I immediately tried to assess my overall position.  I had gone by several runners between the turn around and the guy that told me I was in third.  I wasn’t paying attention at the time to how close behind me they were, so I might have some runners coming up behind me.

If this is a shot for me to end up on a podium at a long-course race, I am not going to lose that to some guy sneaking up behind me.  I started watching for long straights or open bends in the road that would allow me to look behind me and see if anyone was coming up on me.  I did this several times and then had another thought. 

If I saw someone behind me, what would I do differently?  I pondered this for a moment and decided that if I have enough energy to worry about and look for a racer coming up behind me, I was not doing everything I could to race the best race I could that day.  I needed to put all that energy into going forward faster.

At around mile 9, another runner going the other direction informed me I was about a minute and a half behind the second place runner, and that is just what I needed.  I needed to put my energy into catching number two rather than being concerned about being caught by number four.

At the end of my third section, my time was 24:23 (7:26 per mile) and my heart rate was now in the range I was looking for.  I was pushing as hard as I wanted to and all my energy was going forward.  Sure enough, by the end of the lap, I was able to see the second place runner ahead of me.  I was making up time on number two.

I kept pushing hard and was getting pretty close by 10½ miles.  I started considering race tactics (or at least what little I know about race tactics.)  I had a few options:

1)      Try to fly by this guy, and “break” him.  Hope he doesn’t try to chase and recover after I get a gap on him.

2)      Cruise up close behind him and try to out sprint him in the finish chute, or

3)      Let him have second place and hang back because I was already hurting.

I immediately ruled out option 3, because this is a race after all and I was making up time on him.  I would need to decide between option 1 and 2 by the time I reached the overpass going back to the finish.  It was 1 mile to the finish line.  I had ½ mile to see how things would unfold.

He and I came to the overpass together, and I decided to play it cool.  My comment to him was “does this run course seem short to you?”  I tried to give him the impression I was kind of disappointed by the short run and I was ready to run longer.

As we went up the overpass, I ran as smoothly as I could and pushed a quick turn-over.  I figured that if I didn't feel good, I would try to make my stride look good.  I didn’t look back until I took the left turn at the bottom of the overpass and I had a gap of about 80 yards on the guy now in third place. 

A few more turns running through a parking lot and I reached the finish line.  My time was 1:30:02 for the run and yes, the finish line was at 11.96 miles (roughly 1.1 miles short).  Again, you have to race the race you are given and since we all ran the same course, I will call it a successful race.  Besides, I wasn’t about to go run another 1.1 miles around the parking lot for my own good.  I was darn tired and happy to be done. 

As, the entire run was about 4,000 feet higher elevation than I train at, I also thought it was a good experience to see how my effort level can still be in the right place, but the pace/result not be what I expect. 

Shortly after I crossed the finish line, the announcer confirmed that I had finished second overall and I was pretty fired up. 

My finish time (adjusted for correct running distance) would have been very similar to my time at Vineman 70.3 in July.  However, this was my best relative performance and I was happy to take home a bit of hardware for being the first finisher in my age group.

I guess it is beneficial to race at smaller races sometimes.

 Lessons Learned

1)   Tapering correctly can help you fell better when racing, but if something goes wrong with your taper, don't sweat it.  One week prior to the race, I was planning on this to be a “long training day” and not really “race” it.  After a short exchange with my coach, he convinced me that my “A” race for the year was still 12 weeks out and I should go race as hard as I could.  So with very little adjustment to my last training week, I raced the inaugural Expedition Man Long Course triathlon.

2)   Racing at altitude (4410-6300 ft) is more challenging than training at 195 ft.

3)   You need to listen to your body and know yourself.  There are some great technologies out there, but you need to know yourself well enough to be able to take that information with a healthy bit of skepticism.

4)  Pushing yourself is significantly more about mental toughness and perspective late in the race.  Your body is going to be pretty trashed if you have done it right anyway.  There is a lot to be said for being able to continue to push when your body hurts and being able to focus on the right things.

Thanks for reading my personal therapy session.  I hope you enjoyed it and are able to take something away from it that will help you in your racing/work/personal/ professional lives.  If you found it valuable or think someone else might, please feel free to pass it along.    

If you would like to learn more about Expedition Man, click here - http://www.expeditionman.com/

And last, but certainly not least, many thanks again to my lovely wife, Debbie.  As "team photographer" and IronMate/IronSherpa extrodinaire, I could not do this without you.  Thank you for all your love, support and tolerance.  I can't wait to be sitting on a Kona beach with you someday.  (Hopefully sooner than later...for both our sakes.)

Next race report will be for Ironman Arizona in late November.  I hope I have something good to write about...

Cheers,

Justin

2012 Vineman 70.3 Race Report

Lessons Learned at the 2012 Vineman 70.3:
1)  Get to the start earlier than you think you need to.
2)  If you see debris scattered all over the road, there might be a reason – slow down and steer well clear of the area.
3)  Make sure all of your gear works together and you have plenty of contents in your supplies.
4)  Focus on what you can control.
5)  Race with friends and family around if at all possible

Pre-Race
Plan – get there 1:15 early so I would have plenty of time to set up transition and get ready.

Vineman 70.3 is a logistic challenge.  The transitions are in two different locations, and there are 19 different waves that start 8 minutes apart.  This is exacerbated by the very small town the race starts in.

While there is sufficient parking, if you get there late, you may have to park a long ways away and walk/roll your gear to T1.  As we got parked about an hour before my wave was supposed to start, and we were farther away than anticipated, my wife prompted me to ride my bike to T1 and she would walk the kids down by herself.  This act of bravery on her part helped tremendously.

By the time I got there, the transition area was already packed.  There were specific sections reserved for each wave, but I did not get there early enough to “stake out” a successful location to set up my equipment.  I ended up squeezing my bike between two other racers that were in the middle of putting on their wetsuits while I was trying to rack my bike (another indicator that I was behind schedule.)

I organized my gear and grabbed my wetsuit bag to go stand in line for the “facilities” and put on my wetsuit.  Debbie and the kids were standing near the lines, so I was able to talk with them for a few minutes as I stood in line.  As I was putting on my wetsuit, I realized I had 3 pairs of socks in my bag.  That happens to be 2 more pairs than I had planned on, but I figured I must have over packed.

I met up with Debbie and the kids again at the start of the swim corral.  I told the kids to be good for Mom, got my pre-race kisses and hugs and took off for the water.

Swim
Plan – Swim hard at the beginning and steady through the end.  Push the pace, but don’t blow myself up.

As I hopped into the water with my wave, I thought I had about 5 minutes to warm up which should otherwise be sufficient.  I swam past the front of the start line and swam 20 hard strokes out.  I turned around and swam about 15 hard strokes back (roughly 1 min of swimming).  At that point, I heard the announcer starting the wave I was supposed to be swimming in.  I was still about 5 yards in front of the line of guys wearing white swim caps (indicating our wave) and staring at me.  A second later, all I saw was the line of swimmers heading straight for me with their heads down and their arms flailing.  I realized instantly that there was not going to be any chance of me swimming “upstream” to reach the start line, so I turned around and started swimming.  I didn’t want to impede anyone else’s swim and I would be sure to swim an extra 5 yards on the course so I wouldn’t feel like I cheated. 

As the initial group of super fast guys swam by me, I realized that I didn’t start the timer on my watch.  I got that taken care of and became aware of the surreal feel of the moment.  It was like the dream that you are late for school, but you don’t know what class you are supposed to be in, much less where etc… and I was disoriented.  I thought, “Any second now, I am going to wake up in my hotel bed and everything will be ok”.  This was a new experience for me as the swim is usually my best part of the day. 

Within 5 minutes, I was swimming through the wave ahead of mine (red caps).  There were people walking on the sides (yes, this is a very shallow river and you can walk at several parts of the river.)  You swim upstream at the beginning and after the 180 degree left turn, half way out; you swim back to the same beach you started at.  The course is marked with large, triangular red buoys you are supposed to keep on your left and there are also two large orange buoys that I believe are roughly half way. 

As I passed the half way mark, there were several boats clustered around the orange buoys and I heard people asking “are you ok?”  It appeared as though some of the swimmers on their way out had collided with the swimmers on their way back.

Well before the turn around, I also started seeing some blue caps, so I knew the swim was either going pretty well for me or very poorly for some of the folks who had started before me. 

On the swim back, I was pacing with a comparable swimmer from my wave.  I saw him 10-15 yards in front of me, so I put on a big effort knowing that once I caught his feet, I could draft and recover.  Shortly after I reached him, he got caught up passing a group of swimmers, so I swam around on his left.  We were still swimming about 10 yards apart at the same pace.  He would get caught up in a passing a group of swimmers and I would pass him, only to have to swim around another group of swimmers and he would catch up.  Keeping up with a comparable swimmer made the effort seem much easier.

Swim Result – My swim time was almost 2 minutes faster than my previous best at 26:57.

The first transition (T1) was about 14 seconds slower than last year, but I did find out where the extra set of socks came from.  It turns out that while I was setting up my transition; I had put all my socks back in my bag, and forgotten to lay out any socks for the bike.  When I started doing shorter distance triathlons, I had done several without socks, and seeing as I didn’t have much choice, I decided I would do this without socks as well. 

Running out of this transition, you have to be prepared for a little bit of chaos.  There is a very steep hill that starts at the bike mount line.  If it is not jammed up with other athletes and you are in the right gear, it is rideable.  As there was a crowd of athletes trying to get on their bikes, I thought it would be better for me to run up the hill and mount at the top.  The hill is only 25 yards long, so I thought it best to avoid the carnage and this worked out in my favor.

Bike – 56 miles
The Plan – 3 sections of 18.67 miles at 230 watts on my Garmin display which should result in a normalized (Norm) wattage of 250.  Each section should be ~50 minutes.  Gel intake every 15 minutes and 2.5 bottles of water for hydration.

As I mentioned before, this is a wave start race.  There were 12 waves of athletes that started before me.  For the first 20+ miles, I doubt I went 150 yards without passing another athlete.  Early in the first section, I met up with a couple of guys that I would continue to see throughout the ride.  One of them was a “Sports Basement” rider and the other was a “Compassion.com” rider.  We continued to trade off the lead throughout the ride.  Passing athletes from other waves made it difficult to get into a rhythm on the bike, but having other riders of similar ability who were continuing to push the pace was a great mental cue to put on the pressure and stay focused.

For the first section, I averaged 234 watts with a Norm Power of 248 and time of 49:24 (36 seconds ahead of target pace).  The power target for my first section was relatively easy to hit as there are a lot of rolling hills.  I was able to power up the hills and then try to carry the speed of the decent into the next hill. 

The second section came and went with similar regularity although there were some breaks in the riders.  About half way through this section, I really started to feel my legs.  I was riding within my ability for a shorter event, but at I was trying to maintain the same power output for this longer distance.  I could tell that I was definitely pushing the envelope, but not blowing myself up and it felt good to put in some hard work on the bike.  I finished the second section at an identical time of 49:24 with average watts of 233 and norm power of 242.  This put me 1:06 ahead of my target time thusfar.

Shortly after the end of the second section was “the” climb on this course.  It is called Chalk Hill and it a relatively short climb, but the longest on this course.  After this climb, I was going to try to recover on the decent and then push it pretty hard back into town.

My overall goal for this race was to essentially ruin myself on the bike and then see how well I could run.  The power target was what my coach and I had estimated would be what I need to ride in a full-distance Ironman to qualify for Kona.  We thought it would be a good stretch and a good experiment to A) see if I could hold that pace for a ½ distance event and B) see how I could run after an effort like that. 

Until this point, I had met all my power targets and was almost over a minute ahead of my goal.  Around mile 51 I noticed a “yard  sale” up ahead in the road.  “Yard-sale” is what I affectionately refer to a scattering of water-bottles/spare tubes etc. that have been ejected from bikes that have passed that point ahead of me.  It is not uncommon on a race course to see an occasional water bottle or piece of trash in the road that riders have accidently dropped.  When there are several things all in one area, there is typically a reason for it.  I slowed up somewhat as I got closer to the debris and found that the apparent cause was a set of railroad tracks.  What I failed to notice soon enough was the significant pot-hole after the railroad tracks.  As my rear wheel slammed hard on the pot hole, I heard my rear disc cover bang and my heart sank.  Within 50 yards, my back tire was flat. 

I had a rear flat recently at the Auburn Triathlon, and I knew that it took a significant amount of time to change a flat tire on this rear disc wheel.  My calculations showed that it took me about 11 minutes to get back on the road last time.  In Auburn, it happened at mile 28, so I had no choice but to stop and change the tube.  At this point, I was roughly 4 miles from the finish, so I thought I would try an alternative solution.  First, I attempted to use the Vittoria Pit Stop which is a pressurized, expanding latex sealant that should be able to seal a hole up to 1 millimeter and re-inflate the tire.  I had never used this before, but I figured it was worth a shot and a better alternative than changing a tube. 

Unfortunately, as I attempted to administer the sealant, the plastic top popped off due to the angle on the disc cover.  This resulted in spraying my wheel and myself with expanding latex sealant.  This was about the same time the “Sports Basement” rider rode by me and expressed his disappointment and wished me the best.  The can of sealant had somewhat inflated the tire, so I hoped for the best and attempted to ride thinking that maybe, just maybe, enough of the sealant made it into the tire and I could “limp” the remaining four miles to T2.  Let’s just say that I was disappointed to make it less than a mile before the rear tire was flat again. 

This time, I was grasping at straws and attempted to inflate the rear tire with the use of a CO2 cartridge.  This also got me less than a mile.  To put it mildly, I was frustrated.  I was so close to the transition area, but I would be sure to lose several minutes if had to stop and change the tube. 

The more disturbing part is the excess vibration in the rear tire had actually released the rear skewer and knocked my rear tire out of the bike frame.  I had to stop and reattach my rear wheel to the mount.  While I was stopped, one of the mechanics on the course stopped nearby and offered to help.  He asked me if I had a spare tube, which I did.  I asked him how far it was to the finish and he said it was about a mile.  My options were A) Change the tube (an ~11 minute ordeal) B) run with the bike (would take at least 8 minutes and likely more running in bike shoes, or C) ride it out – this would be a slow and sketchy ride, but likely take less time than either of the two other options.  I chose option C.  This was an aggressive and risky decision.  I knew that I would not be able to go as fast, but I would be able to go faster than running.  If everyone else followed the drafting rules, I wouldn’t put them in any danger if I fell, so I rolled the last 1+ mile to transition with a flat rear tire and my back end skidding all over the place.  If you have seen the Pixar movie “Cars,” when Lightning McQueen blows his rear tires out in the last lap and he is skidding all over the place, it felt a bit like that. 

I stopped just short of the transition area as there was a final sharp left turn, and I knew if I tried to ride that turn, I would run a big risk of losing the back end of the bike all together and going down.  So I ran the last 50 yards or so with the bike.  I saw Debbie and the kids cheering on the sidelines and gave them a wave.  It was great to see them out there and was very uplifting given the last several miles.

Bike Result – 2:34:41.  I averaged 230 watts with a norm of 246.  This was pretty darn close to target.  Based on my data, I lost approximately 5-6 minutes due to the rear tire issues.  If I focus on what I was able to control, the ride was a success.  My legs were pretty well thrashed and I was able to overcome some adversity.  Now it is on to the run to see how my legs hold up…but first a quick note on T2. 

I knew that it was a going to be a relatively hot run, so I switched out my normal racing hat with a visor.   Accordingly, I also included in my transition gear a can of spray sunblock for the top of my mostly bald head.  Unfortunately, at least one other person who had transitioned before me apparently thought it would be ok for them to borrow the aforementioned sunblock as the can was in a different spot than I had left it the day before.  And, by accident I am sure, they used the last of the sunblock in the can.  This was slightly annoying, but it was certainly not the end of the world.  Next time I either need to go faster or bring a newer can of sunblock.

Run - 13.1 miles
The plan – 26 ½ mile sections broken down into 4 groups.  The ½ mile sections are for reminders to check my running form and 4 groups for effort pacing by heart rate.  1) From the start to mile 3.5 at a heart rate below 160 beats per minute (BPM), 2) Mile 3.5 to 6.5 at 160 BPM, 3) Mile 6.5 to 9.5 between 160 and 162 BPM and 4) 9.5 to the finish should be over 162.

The run on this course is also rolling hills with a couple pretty significant climbs.  You run out of town to LaCreme winery, through the winery grounds and back.  In total, there are 21 turns which does not exactly lend itself to getting into a good rhythm, but there are several straight sections where you can move pretty well.

Running out of Transition 2, I heard a voice call my name from behind me and it was a training buddy and friend, Jason Berry.  Jason is relatively new to triathlon, but he is a very strong athlete.  He is a machine on the bike and I knew he would have a great ride on that course.   Jason is in my age group, but I believe that he had only done 1 or 2 other ½ Iron distance races up to that point.  I was a bit faster on the swim, but he was able to make up all that time on the bike and he was right behind me coming out of T2.  It was great to see him out there doing so well and good to hear a friendly voice out on the course.  At this point, I was concerned that with the work I had done on the bike, and as worn out as my legs were, he was going to pass me on the run.  I wanted to stay focused, so I tried to minimize the small talk and get back to the business of beating myself up on the run.

I identified early in the run that running at ~160 BPM was going to be harder than I had anticipated.  It is common for a race situation to elevate an athlete’s heart rate.  I have heard anywhere from 5-10 BPM.  You could attribute it to excitement, adrenaline or whatever you like.  So I had attempted to adjust my racing targets accordingly.  I had been training on long runs with a target heart rate of 150-152 and decided to go back to that.  As I had not done any running at my adjusted rates and I was feeling very calm and in control, I thought it would be better for me to “back-out” the adjustment for “race day.”  I decided I would target less than 150 for section 1, 150-152 for section 2, +150 for section 3 and “as high as I could get it” section 4.

Section 1 was uneventful.  My average heart rate was ~147 BPM.  I was able to regularly pass other runners, but this was due more to the wave start setup than my running ability.  I was not sure if they would have any caffeinated beverages on the run course, so I brought a RedBull in a flask on my fuel belt.  I drank ½ of that in the first section and I started to feel like I was running by the end of the first section. 

The second section felt like it was a lot more uphill than down or rolling, but I got to the winery without any significant events and an average heart rate of 149.  As I was coming out of the winery ~ mile 7, I saw Ken Petruzzelli going into the winery.  Ken was the president of the Chico Triathlon Club when I joined and he is a great athlete.  I knew that he was in my age group, but started in the wave behind me (I had an 8 minute head start on him).  On any given day, Ken would easily be able to run me into the ground, so I knew he would be on me in no time as I was only approximately 1.5-2 miles ahead at that point.  Not only would he make up the head start I had, but if I didn’t push hard, he was going to pass me.  This was good motivation. 

Around this same time, I also passed my cohort in the Sports Basement gear.  I tried to share some encouraging words, but it looked as though he had hit the wall and I went by him without too much fuss. 

In the middle of the third section, my heart rate and perceived exertion level was starting to climb.  I knew that I was on the way home and I kept telling myself that I could rest as much as I wanted when I got to the finish line.  By mile 9, my legs hurt with most steps.  My average heart rate for the lap was only 153, but if I overstretched my legs, I would feel the first twinges of cramping in my quads and my calves. 

It was about this time that I saw Jennifer Moore going the other way on the run course.  Jennifer is a lady that just weeks before had challenged herself by doing an Olympic distance event (roughly ½ the distance we were doing today) and she was really stepping up her game to race at this distance.  She seemed to be running very smoothly and it was inspiring to see her push her boundaries and to be doing so well. 

On the way back to town, I was practicing a mental game called “fishing.”  I was trying to concentrate on the next runner in front of me and “reel” them in.  I would set myself a goal of how many runners I thought I could pass in a given section and do my best to make that work.  It really helped to keep my mind off the pain in my legs and keeping my heart rate up at this point was not a problem.

I had been counting down for some time (only 4 more miles…3.5 miles) but when I reached mile 11, I experienced something that I have not yet experienced in a race.  I got slightly light headed and the pain in my legs went away.  There was a tingling in my quads that was similar the feeling you get when a part of your body falls asleep and begins to wake up.  This was not painful at all, and slightly exhilarating.

By mile 12, I was feeling good and ready to be done, so I pushed it in the last mile.

Result – 1:38:46.  This was 4 minutes faster than my performance at this course last year and 3 minutes faster than my previous personal record (PR) at the distance.

Overall Result – 4:47:23.  12 minutes faster than last year and 8 minutes PR at the distance.

All things considered, this was a good day.  As Debbie pointed out, all I have to do is maintain the same paces for the full Ironman and I would be pretty close to qualifying.  Getting closer to Kona every day...

As a final interesting note, the person who helped me at the finish line was no other than Richard Bach.  The same guy that saved my bacon at the Auburn Triathlon a while back.  Triathlon is a small world.

Thanks for taking the time to read this.  I hope that you got something out of sharing in my personal form of therapy. 

The next event for me will be guiding a visually impaired friend of mine, Richard Hunter, at the Santa Cruz triathlon in mid August. Until then… Happy training!

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