Sunday, August 14th, 2011. A perfect day to race! High 60's, calm, cloud cover - ideal race conditions.
My second half iron distance race, Lake Stevens 70.3 was my first true "A" race of the 2011 season. It was the crescendo of a season of intense training and preparation, as well as a couple setbacks. With the exception of a shiny new weaponized carbon bike (next year!!), I have never been more ready, physically or mentally, to race.
The energy around the transition area was electric with racers of every ability preparing for their own personal 70.3 journey. I was one of them. I had big personal goals for the day. I'd made some big commitments and verbalized them to some of my closest friends and family. I couldn't let them or myself down! It felt like I was setting up for a putt at the US Open! It felt like all eyes were on me to perform. Of course, we all know that this is an erroneous mental thought form. But, I feel it motivates us to do our best. I was feeling the thrill of my support team and community wishing me my best race.
I had executed my fueling (carboloading, etc) perfectly prior to the race and was 100% ready. Ironman 70.3 Lake Stevens was to execute wave starts by age groups, which was much less stressful than the epic mass starts like Ironman Coeur D'Alene. Instead of 2400 athletes to start, I only had about eighty. Easy enough. I suited up, did some light stretching, went over my plan mentally, and laid down on the grass and tried to keep calm. As is customary, the pros launched at 6:30 AM and my wave started at 6:53. It was a busy morning at the swim start as wave after wave started three minutes apart. The calm surface of Lake Stevens quickly came alive with the frenetic thrashing of arms and legs from about 1,300 athletes. When it finally came time for my wave to start, we jumped in the water and lined up. Knowing that it takes me several minutes to get comfortable in my stroke and for my heart rate to settle down, I lined up towards the back of the crowd, with the intention of maintaining open water and avoiding the all-too-common combat swim start. Boom! From serene calm to instantaneous activity that would last uninterrupted for the next several hours, we were off for the first turn! Like a thoroughbred, my body knew exactly what to do. The countless hours of training and preparing focused on this one moment in time. As expected, though, at first my stroke and breathing were labored and clumsy. I fought to not exceed my aerobic threshold. Finally, after about eight to ten minutes my body started to calm down and I leveled off and could feel the efficiency of my swim stroke starting to settle in. My next goal was to identify an athlete in my age group who seemed to be swimming at a good pace, hop in behind him and follow his kick bubbles to T1. That's exactly what I did. We were passing people from previous waves and I thought the swim was going perfectly as planned - my goal was to finish the swim as close to thirty minutes as possible.
I exited the lake and ran to my bike, which was very close to the swim finish. I made quick work of T1. In triathlon, transitions always seem like they are going faster than they really are, but my respectable 2:16 T1 got me on the bike course without losing too much valuable time. Once on the bike, fuel management took priority. Ten minutes, forty minutes, one hour twenty minutes... every forty minutes, my plan had me eating - preparing me for the run ordeal. I couldn't miss one single fueling. I rely on my QT2 Systems Fueling Plan as much as I do any one piece of gear! It is that important to me. The last thing I want as a limiter on race day is fueling when it's something I can, for the most part, totally control. Cycling is my first triathlon love. The bike leg is where I make up for lost time in the swim (more on that later!). I roped in almost two hundred-fifty cyclists on my way to T2. In fact, I didn't notice getting passed by one person in my age group.
The Lake Stevens bike course is very challenging. There is a thirty minute gradual uphill climb that seems like a fairly flat road. The course profile proves otherwise. A two loop ride, the ascent is more taxing than it seems. The reward is a few very fast descents. The bike leg turned out to be non-eventful. I borrowed a friend's disk and Zipp 404 tubulars. I've never ridden tubulars and, although I studied a couple YouTube videos on how to change a tubular during a race, it was not something I wanted to undertake on race day! I crossed my fingers and hoped that the tire puncture gods would show favor upon me for the day. They did. I finished the bike leg strong in 2:34:59 with an average speed of 21.68 mph with plenty of high octane gas in the tank for the run.
I blazed through T2 in 1:30 and started the run well fueled and with a great attitude. My mom, girlfriend, and one of my buddies were outside T2 clanging cowbells and cheering me on. Gosh that feels good to have support at a race. Shortly after starting my run, the urge to urinate was once again upon me. As part of my fueling plan, I intended to urinate only once during the race. Since it was a cooler day than normal, my sweat rate was lower. Consequently, I ended up urinating a total of four times during the race. This might sound like trivial information but this is an indication that I drank too much on the bike and could have afforded to drink one less bottle of sport drink for the cooler conditions on race day.
As I've indicated in previous posts, since May of this year, I've been battling plantar fasciitis in my left foot. In the four plus weeks of heavy training leading up to race day, I was able to manage the injury and it didn't keep me from getting in all my training volume. I used the "recovery" week prior to Lake Stevens to really allow the PF to heal. But, as it turns out, it was not ready for the cumulative abuse from the bike and run on race day. About five miles into the run, I could feel the injury become more and more acute. By mile seven, just after starting the second loop, I experienced a severe jab of pain in the heel area of my left foot. I yelped like a crippled dog, limp-ran for a few hundred feet, and tried to settle into my normal stride. I was cooking off the miles at a 6:48 pace and felt durable otherwise. A couple times during the run, I actually wondered if I'd be able to finish the race with the increasingly painful PF in my foot. I commanded the thought out of my mind and commanded my legs to keep turning over. I refused to quit! I'd come this far and sacrificed so much. There was NO WAY I was caving in to this inconvenience.
By half way though the run, the sun had broken through the marine layer and we were being soaked in much warmer air temperatures. I walked through every other aid station, dousing myself with water and downing a cup of Powerbar Perform. I didn't let up at all during the run and managed to stay on task with keeping my heart rate pegged at my goal heart rate. All was going according to plan.
Here is where the story gets a little more interesting. Remember when I said my goal was to get the swim done in around thirty minutes? Well, the entire time I'm on the bike and the entire time on the run, I'm thinking that I had a really good swim and had gotten out of the lake in around thirty minutes. I was doing all the math in my head based on the cumulative time on my Garmin. And, since I hadn't had anyone in my age group pass me on the bike or the run, I thought FOR SURE I was going to get on the podium or even win my age group. That thought was fuel to keep running like a man possessed! I knew I had to finish the race somewhere around 4:35:xx to 4:40:xx based on 2010 results. According to my math I was heading for a 4:37:xx finish! I was so excited at the possibility!
It's amazing how the mind works. I really thought I "got 'er done" in the lake! Not so much! I crossed the finish line with a PR run of 1:31:21 and when I slumped into my girlfriends arms I asked her if she saw anyone else in my age group cross. She said there had been several in the last few minutes. NO! I was devastated. As it turns out, I was nowhere near thirty minutes in the lake. I was actually out of the water in 36:21! Those six minutes were the difference between eighth and third overall in my age group! This is exactly why you'll hear, if you're around triathlon for any length of time, that "you can't win a triathlon in the water, but you can sure lose it." I lost my chance for a podium because of my less-than-impressive swim. My math had been all wrong. I was about nine minutes off the top step of the podium. I finished with solid 4:46:27 and had the third fastest run split in my age group; good, but not good enough to podium.
OK, before anyone thinks I'm not thrilled with my overall performance, I am! But, I know I can improve and I know exactly where I need to improve the most. This is a halmark of a champion mindset. I've come a long way with my swimming in just two years, but I have some big goals and my swim leg simply must improve.
With a few days to reflect on my race, and especially the swim, what could I have done differently? The one thing I could have done and didn't was get my body warmed up properly for the ordeal of the swim leg. I was simply too cold. The metaphor I thought of the day after the race was "you wouldn't take your million dollar F1 Ferrari that's been parked in the garage, start it and immediately take it to red line, would you?" Of course not. Well, that's what I was expecting of my own priceless body! From now on, I will warm up my body, even if it's on a trainer in the parking lot for 30 minutes or so before I ask it to go red line. I believe I lost valuable minutes off my total swim time simply because I had not warmed up properly. It certainly was not from having to swim in a pack with no open water. Sure, my stroke can improve and it will. But a proper warm up will pay dividends in subsequent races down the line.
The other interesting little fact about my finish time of 4:46:27 is it was exactly FOUR SECONDS slower than my finish at the Portland Rev3 Half on July 10th! Portland was a very flat course. Lake Stevens 70.3 was a very hilly course. I WAS stronger and faster at Lake Stevens, but the sheer closeness of the finishing times is somewhat comical.
Once again, I learned a great deal in this race. I've improved my transitions. My running continues to improve. In fact, it feels as if I'm becoming a better runner than cyclist! I came into triathlon as a strong cyclist. To be truly competitive as an age grouper, one must be highly accomplished in all three disciplines.
Next stop: QT2 Systems' Triathlon Training Camp in Ludlow Vermont next weekend, August 25th - 28th. One of the weekend's highlights for me will be an underwater swim video analysis. This should be a real eye-opener for improving my swim.
In the meantime, ice, Ibuprofin, and mild stretching to get this PF calmed down. It's angry, but it will heal and I will be racing again soon. It was worth the pain.
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