For a change, got a full 6 hours’ sleep. After finishing the Toughman Half three weeks ago, and about to do my 7th triathlon in two years, I at least knew that I would complete this one in a reasonable time – so jitters were relatively minimal.
Other than a lousy arrival (forgot my sippy cup so turned around 10 minutes from house; then daydreamed past highway exit – so arrived with 1 hr before transition closed instead of 1 1/2 hrs.), and a lousy T1 (didn’t practice actually going out of SWIM IN to bike, and forgot/didn’t believe I was in first row – “where the !@#$% is my bike?”), pleased with the results.
Swim felt strong, not panicked about running out of strength. Crowded, probably because of all the turns on this course (an odd geometric shape rather than a good old-fashioned triangle). Got kicked a little; need to learn how to draft. Hard to see buoys, but gratifying to catch up to other-colored swim caps (meaning, I’m passing folks who started 3 to 6 minutes ahead of me)!
On the bike, mostly kept up the 90 RPM cadence. Also glad to have two guys to chase/leap frog on the bike – one in my age group (who I had to pass), the other younger but who made nasty comment (who I wanted to pass). (“On your left,” I say; “You’ve got to be kidding” he says, and zooms ahead. Ooh, that made me mad.) Hills not too bad, but huffed and puffed most of the way – not the plan, but, oh well, it worked.
Key to run at end: “you don’t have to run harder, just pick up the RPM. Short rapid steps are fine. They’ll add up.” Wore flats. Walked at the drink stops. Passed the only guy who passed me while I drank. Passed a LOT of people.
The official results are encouraging: 0:29 on the swim (which my gps says was closer to 1.1 miles rather than 0.9 mile), 1:12 on the bike (avg 20.5 mph), 45:50 run (including a negative split – 7:38 for first 4 miles, 6:56 for the last 2), total time of 2:32:59. I guess I can say “2:32 and change….” but that’s a LOT of change.
13/68 for age group, 130/844 overall. Would have liked to podium, but I guess that’s for another day. (First place was a good 19 minutes faster – but 2nd and third were only 12 minutes ahead….) Meanwhile: 10:50 faster than last year (and would have been better if I hadn’t taken 4:30 at the swim-to-bike transition), including around 10 min faster on the bike and 3 minutes faster on the run.
I briefly ran with a guy in his 40s, who said he wanted to pace his run with me. I said, fine, you’re not in my age group. He said, “I’m only trying to beat the guy who has the same last name as me and did this race last year.” Now, THAT’S a good attitude. That particular runner left me in the dust, but I did beat the SOB he was talking about: myself. By a long shot.
Good news is, I got 8 1/2 hours sleep Friday night. I needed it, because the night before the race, after dutifully leaving our town’s annual music festival to load up on pasta and going to bed by 9 (listening, alas, to fabulous music that travelled from the festival to my bedroom a mile away), I awoke at 12:19 a.m., saying goodnight to my 17-year old (who just got home, of course) and never got back to sleep. Armed with 3 hours sleep, I decided my body knew what to do, but I would have to be careful with depending on a fuzzy brain.
Got to transition as it opened at 5 a.m. Had racked my bike the day before, took off baggies over the handle bars, etc., and pondered with the pliers I had brought to deal with that gunk on the bottom of the frame almost rubbing against the front derailleur. Turns out, it’s not gunk, it’s a metal plate attached to, but twisted away from, the frame. Went to bike repair tent, where the guy slowly changed a couple of tires (doesn’t he know transition closes soon?), started removing the cranks, and banged at the crank shaft with a wooden handle (unable to find a rubber mallet) before I rescued my Beastie from potential dents. (Hastings Velo bike shop, here I come!)
So. Not the relaxed commencement I had planned. Still, remained remarkably unruffled. (And the bike performed problem free).
Chose to swim in the longsleeve wetsuit ‘cuz it’s faster even if my transition is slower (practicing its removal the night before, a terrible way to prepare for bed, but nice to discuss the problem with my 13-year old). Got in a very short warmup in the water, but enough to feel relieved. Bravely went to the middle/front of the corral, next to my friendly nemesis Scott Schiffer (age group competitor), and ran into the water.
Started with minimal panic — a new pattern for me. Ran for a buoy or two, as I knew from watching the first wave of Tough Teen racers that the water was too shallow to swim. The running ramped up my heart rate, but swam until I got a groove. Drafted a little off the guys ahead of me, but either they were too slow and I touched their feet (sorry!) or they were the big fish that got away. Alternating sides every 3rd breath went out the window – I’m breathing every stroke, and sighting a lot to see the Big Yellow Buoy ahead of me. Rounded the buoy with only minimal exhaustion, zoomed to shore (thankful for the report, at least, that we had a helpful current), finished in 24:25. (Full disclosure: someone told me that his Garmin indicated it was a short swim — only 0.9 miles, not 1.2. Well, that’s an advantage we all shared.)
Ran pretty well to my bike; had to sit down to get off the damn wetsuit, but decent transition (2:43), and most of the other bikes in my bike rack (age grouped) were still there – a good sign.
For the bike: Goal was to stay in heart rate Zone 2, no higher, or Coach Debi said I’d lose substantial time on the run. Ate half a Powerbar (chew, chew, pant, chew), part of the Coach’s rigorous nutrition plan, as promised. But a sleep-deprived mental screw up: I had left the non-caffeine gel with my running gear, or dropped it, so I would have to stretch them out over the ride. (I now calculate that between the 4 gels on the bike, 5-6 shot blocks and a gel or two on the run, I took in 240 mg of caffeine. That’s almost 5 double espressos. Yes, Debi, gels have 35 mg, and shot blocks have 50 mg for every 3 blocks. And I normally drink decaf….) No cadence detector on the Garmin (hadn’t checked after the bike repair guy molested my Beastie), and the heart rate wasn’t working (as I had experimented before lending a spare strap to Jenn). No worries, I had another HRM on my watch (like my Dad with his identical twin, I seem to have a spare of everything), so I’m checking my wrist every few moments for 3 hours. And I have an idea of what 90+ rpm feels like by this time.
Around 20 minutes into the ride realized that the Garmin hadn’t been re-set from my last workout, two days ago, and I don’t remember how far I rode. (That sleep deprivation…) Felt OK, passing some people, getting passed by younger guys, staying within Z2, keeping my RPMs high. But getting tired. So when I called out at the southern turnaround “what mile is this?!” and one guy said, “I dunno, 25% of the course, maybe 13 miles” (he was wrong, it was really 18 to 20 – dammit, volunteers should KNOW where they are!), I freaked out. Well, calmly. But I hadn’t realized how FAR 56 miles was going to be. I mean, when I’m at the end of the 25 miles for an Olympic, fine, that was fun, but how was I going to survive another 36+ miles of this?
Those long rolling hills started feeling longer and longer. At the cement section of the highway (closed to traffic), scored for winter traction and expansion, I really felt the side wind against my “aero” wheels. Won a match of leap frog with a 59-year old, but a Pyrrhic victory… I’d like to say I was focussing on the low heart rate, but I don’t think I could have spun my legs any faster. I know that’s true, because when Ron the Mouth (who rides with the Hastings gang on Sundays – and is in my age group) passed me yelling “I made up the lost time!” I sure tried to pass him. (Although I remembered that he was not going to run, so why should I care?) What did spur me on was passing some guy, who yelled “Where the f— did you come from, Mark?” to which I responded “Where the f— do you think you’re going, Scott?” So I got back on the game. Almost crashed at the very end of the course — narrow, jogging lane pathway into the park, sharp turns suddenly shaded, I actually had to pop out of my cleats after I avoided running into a wall, but managed to avoid twisting my ankle as I had done on a training ride. Bottom line: biked in 3:02. I had been shooting for 3:00. Fine with me.
T2 was smooth, and changed into my New Racing Flats. Coach Debi said they had sliced off time on cousin Rob Falk’s races, so I had practiced. Saw the wonderful Rachel on the way out from transition (“Hey, Baby!”) and off we go onto the run.
Here, the goal was to stay in a heart rate zone 10 clicks above my average on the bike for 4 miles, then to pass as many people as i could. The concrete bridge out of Croton Point Park seemed pretty damn long, and really, every mile marker seemed farther away than the one before. The course took us through Cortlandt Manor, with beautiful forested roads (occasionally interrupted by large gravel sections, which were hard with the flats – felt every darn stone!). Saw racer nos. 1 and a few minutes later no. 2 come zooming past me in the other direction. OMG, the winner finished in 4:01. After mentally pausing to admire such speed (and youth!), I dug into soft wooded paths and a switch-back up up up hill section going to the Croton Dam (damn!); it was just like ascending to the Parc Royal in Montreal, and I survived that casual jog; this was just another one, right?
And after reaching beautiful, waterfalling reservoir and starting down down down, I hit the moment that I learned something about myself, as Drew Ahkao predicted in our epic pep talk: I started thinking,”ooh, maybe I’ll make the podium, I don’t see anyone in my age group” or “Oh, it will be so great to see Rachel at the finish line” or “I bet they have Capt. Lawrence beer after the race”. And then I thought, “Shmuck! That’s the end! You’re not there, you’re here! So: Check out the crack in the road. That’s a long crack. Must be tough winters here… Check out that manhole cover. There’s a whole sewer system down there. Miraculous…” And I stayed PRESENT. And I ran in the present. And I ran a little faster “right now.”
I kept worrying that Scott would catch up to me (he had been right behind me at the end of bike) but I work better at chasing than being chased. So I cranked it up and started counting the folks I passed, and the folks that passed me. By the end of the race, I think I was net 11 (including 3 guys who passed me but were doing a relay), after losing to one tough woman who inspired me to speed up but just wouldn’t quit. Quite the thrill to pass Hastings hero Tom Andrews (“nice pace, Mark!”) and even Jenn Sheppard –their overall times were faster, of course, but only by a couple of minutes! The last few miles were longer and longer (in fact, I never saw a sign for Mile 11, I think), and I had a little left in the tank to run hard the last half mile.
Toughman Half, 2013- finish line
Got to the finish line and broke my goal of 5:30, finishing in 5:26:25, including a 1:55 half marathon. 5th out of 40 in my age group, 133 out of 460 overall. Not bad for my first 70.3, and only 15 months ago after my first sprint triathlon. Early morning biking partner Ben Clifford pointed out: “if you plotted your races on a graph…” Yeah, I hate to admit it, there’s a trajectory here.
