Sorry for the length, there was a lot happening here. This was my 5th Iron-distance race
and easily the most eventful…
Pre-Race: My
body is the definition of inertia – so when the object in motion stops; bad things
happen. On Thursday, May 5th
(10 days out from the race) I wandered into Urgent Care with a 102 degree
fever, sinus infection, and ear infection.
Luckily some strong antibiotics did the trick to get me to the start
line feeling mostly ok. The following
Thursday (two days before the race) my body decided that this time of the month
was a surprisingly fitting to be “that time of the month.” Sorry if that’s TMI for you fellas, but when I
hear guys complain about how a hangnail on their pinky finger impacted their ability
to perform their best, I need to remind them that many of the female
competitors are handling an extra, giant, miserable race-day complication.
In addition to a slightly uncooperative body; on the
pre-race shakeout ride I realized that each time I hit my brakes they locked up
on the wheels and wouldn’t spring back open.
After leaving the bike with the race mechanics all afternoon, I was told
there was nothing more that could be done - the springs were rusted, I needed new brakes, they had opened them as
far as they would go, and lubed them as much as they could. The best advice they could give was to not
use the back brake, (just the front one, which was less sticky), and lean over
the handlebars to “pop” open the brake if it locked during the race.
Add to that the insane, last-minute bike course and a sudden change
to T1 due to high bacteria in the water. (HUGE props to IM for moving an entire
transition area and creating a new swim start less than 48 hours from the gun going
off!)
With all the insanity, I did only what I could…adapt and
move forward.
Race Morning: I
try, when possible, to stay in an AirBnB for races so that I know I can have
the foods I prefer, a good cup of coffee, and a nice quiet morning to think
about the task at hand. Saturday
however, I woke up, looked at my phone and saw that Joe Maloy was headed to
Rio! As I exited the bedroom, Gaby was
already making coffee and yelled, “Did you see?
Joe did it!” Instead of a quiet morning
we started off with lots of excitement and positive vibes – we knew it was our
turn now!
Swim: Got right
up to the front and went out strong.
Tried to find a draft pack but had no luck. Despite the many announcements, slower people
still insisted on getting near the front for the extra time. I finally settled in and felt like I was
swimming well. Somewhere around the far
turn buoy however, someone tightly grabbed my calf and pulled me down. I stopped, turned around, screamed, and
nearly punched the guy in the face; lots of wasted energy, but it was such a
dangerous move that I couldn’t let it go – proud that I didn’t come completely
unglued and get DQ'd. Got my nerves back in check,
finished the swim certain that I had hit my plan of 1:05 and was floored to see
that I was 1:13. Many people have said
since that the swim was “slow.” It sure
felt fast, which was really disappointing.
16/104 in AG for the swim.
T1: I chose to
put my shoes on my bike so that I could get out of transition as quickly as
possible. Slipped on arm coolers,
helmet, glasses and took off; couldn’t have spent more than 30 seconds in the tent. As I approached my bike I realized an
NBCSports camera man was standing a few feet past my bike, camera pointed right
my bike and then at me. I approached the
rack, grabbed my bike, caught my shoe on the support pole, dropped my chain,
nearly took down the entire rack of bikes, and then tripped trying to run away. Smooth…soooooo smooth. I played it cool, ran past the camera man,
made sure he wasn’t still filming, got my chain back on and ran out of T1. Executed the mount without much issue and was
off.
Bike: I was in a big group out of T1 and the pace was
FAST. I looked down a few times to see I
was holding 175 watts and going 23-24 mph.
Insane. While #turnapolooza
wasn’t so awesome with only partially working front brakes, I had no issue with
the course. It was a ton of fun and very
fast. Luckily, I didn’t see many bike
issues as a result of the many turns, but I did see two pretty major car
accidents – one of which pushed a car into the bike lane and one that cut directly across the bike course – sorry Texas, but I’m putting you in front
of Massachusetts for worst drivers. Thankfully, as
far as I know neither of these incidents involved cyclists!
The many driveways and intersections did make it a bit scary
at times, but I handled my bike well, only having to “un-pop” my brakes
twice. On the one very tight U-turn I
instinctively grabbed my back brakes but was able to loosen them without
dismounting. It is safe to say my bike
handling skills have improved greatly over the past few years!
I nailed my nutrition and hydration plan and made it through
each aid station with ease. The course
was slightly shorter than reported and I missed my opportunity to do a flying
dismount and was stuck running through T2 in my bike shoes.
17/104 in AG for the ride.
T2: Had another very fast T2 and was out on the run!
Run: My shoulder had started to really bother me
towards the end of the ride (I suspect from being up and down in the aerobars
turning so much) and I was happy to be on the run. Running is like “my thing” now; I enjoy it,
I’m good at it, and this is where I was going to start finding those girls who
were in front of me and catch the one in my AG that passed me on the bike.
Miles 1-2 were sub-8 pace which was a little faster than
plan, so I slowed down. Earlier in the
week, Gaby, Mark, and I had done a shakeout run at 8:10 and it felt really
relaxed so I knew if I could get to that pace, I’d be in good shape to bring it
down later on. I quickly passed two
girls in my AG but was very much alone on the first loop.
Fun break in the action: Siri Lindley was the only
spectator I saw during the first 4 miles.
She was on her bike to cheer on Rebekah Keat but was super sweet to
those of us out there all by ourselves.
She cheered me on at a few different points and told me my pace and form
looked great, which was pretty cool. Around
Mile 3, Alicia Kaye caught up to me; she was clearly slowing down as we ran
about a half a mile shoulder to shoulder.
We exchanged encouraging words and pleasantries before she took off –
even in her suffering (she was about to be overtaken by Keat), she was
exceptionally nice!
Back to the hell: As I approached the aid station
near Mile 5 I became dizzy from the heat. Not
the dizzy like, I need food and I’ll be okay, but the kind of dizzy that says,
stop and lay down. I walked the aid
station, poured ice and water all over myself multiple times and got back to
running. What had just been comfortable
was now agonizing. I’m good about
hitting a dark place and repeating “left, right, repeat” or some other “go”
mantra but nothing seemed to help, I could not get the pace to drop. The energy coming back into town (Mile 6) is
unreal! People in Speedos dancing around
with beer, rival DJ booths; a huge party atmosphere! I would typically smile, high-five people, and
grab some good juju but I couldn’t. My
heart sank to my shoes at the thought of having to run two more laps…how could
I?! I don’t really remember anything
notable about the second lap, I had completely shut down by that point.
As I reentered town for the end of lap 2 and
start of lap 3, I searched for Gaby. I
had seen him directly across the river from me when I hit the Mile 6 marker, so I
assumed I would see him in advance of that point. I got really sad when I didn’t. A few miles later on a turn around, I saw him
only a half mile or so ahead of me and knew I had to catch up. When I caught him, I didn’t say anything, or
stop, I just tapped him on the shoulder and knew we were in for another CAC
sufferfest.
Amazingly we were keeping an ok pace for the third lap…I
suspect my “running” pace wasn’t all that bad, just lots of slow walking at the
aid stations. Then, right around Mile 20, the sky opened up and all hell broke loose.
Thunder, lighting, torrential rain, high winds, and hail. As we neared Mile 21 there were 5-10 athletes
that had already been stopped by a volunteer. We were told the race was neutralized and to
pause our Garmins. The weather continued
to disintegrate and the mass of people got larger. After 15 minutes or so, the great volunteers ran from their tent (about 200 yds away) and brought us trash bags,
chips, oranges, grapes, soda, and water.
As I ripped a hole in the trash bag and put it on my shaking, freezing
body, tears welled up in my eyes. I
turned to look at Gaby, who I suspected was feeling the same, and instead of
bursting into a crying fit; we just started laughing. That wild, uncontrollable laughter that
happens when your second grade teacher tells you to be quiet after someone farts
- the kind of laughter that leaves you doubled over, and gasping for air. This…was…RIDICULOUS!!!!!!!
Others around us started laughing too and
soon guys were turning their trash bags into dresses, placing their race
numbers over top of them and modeling for the group.
For anyone who reads this that was in that
front group, thank you. The levity we
were able to find in those moments is what gave me energy for those last five
miles – also, I now know why my abs are sore.
They finally restarted the race and a huge mass of people
started “running” again. After being
stopped for 48 minutes, we looked like a mass of drunken penguins waddling down
an iceberg. Those final miles are a
painful blur. Gaby and I stumbled across
the finish line, look a few photos, waited for Mark to finish (who because of
the delay was right behind us now), had a burrito, a Shiner Bock, and went back
to the house.
When the times are adjusted, I will land in 8th for the run
and 12th overall for AG.
Final thoughts:
-Going into this race Jack had laid out a really great
plan. Had I executed that plan I would
have landed in 5th maybe even 4th place. My
AG rolled down to 5th, so I have confidence that my goals are not
unattainable. The competition here was
really tough; I was the #7 American in AG – half of the Top Ten coming from
outside of the US.
-My pre-race discussion with Jack the night before the race included lots of talk
about not making excuses for the situation or using tough conditions as a crutch. The thought was that everyone else had
already lined up lots of reasons as to why this race wouldn’t be their best - I wouldn't be one of them. A popular phrase at my last job (where class
attendance for the students was mandatory) was that there are not excused
absences, but there are explained ones.
Making this distinction is important.
I make no excuse for not executing my race plan. Can it be explained by the fact that it was
hot and I live in a colder climate?
Maybe. Could it be that the rest
of the field was just that much faster? Sure. But on Saturday, I
raced the absolute best I could physically handle on that day. I’m unsure that I’ve battled as hard as I did
to just keep moving forward and not walk off the course and quit. Good old Webster says that an excuse is “a
reason put forth to defend a fault.”
There is no fault to defend here; I did all I could on this day.
-For those who know me personally, you know I’m pretty easy
going once a stressor is placed in the “out of my control” bucket. Prior to that however, I’ll damn near kill
myself finding a way to take that “out of control” thing and gain
control over it. This race required great patience and rolling
with the punches; something I executed perfectly and am very proud of. At no point did I lose my emotions or try to
control what I knew I couldn’t and there’s some big personal growth in that.
-Not sure yet what’s next.
I know this: I love this distance, I love racing, and I haven’t yet hit
my potential.
