For the Hastings Runners Group, and others with little time and/or short attention spans here is the short version: one of my best Half Ironman races, at least in terms of attitude, control and execution, came in 8/54 AG, and my best finishing time since 2016 (when I was, well, 6 years younger).
For the rest of you, read on!
A Half Ironman in Galveston, Texas had seemed like a good idea two years ago, before I opted to defer it three times because of COVID. Winter training hadn’t just been about maintaining because starting in October I had to build from zero (recovering from treating an injury that had prevented me from running). As the day approached, I had some cold feet about schlepping all the way to Houston. (Galveston turns out to be a little over an hour from Houston and a a weekend vacation destination for a folks from there).
Houses on stilts…
Everywhere…
But like the athletes I met from Boston, Montana and Wisconsin, we all wanted to start racing before May or June, when the water might warm up in our regions.
Travel was challenging — my flight was canceled, so I hung out at La Guardia Airport for 6 hours. But I had my laptop and got a lot of work done, and staying zen at the airport actually set the tone for the weekend and the race. Even after the plane landed at 6:30 pm (a lot later than planned), I had a 40-minute wait for a pre-arranged car rental, but again, it didn’t bother me (and I enjoyed chatting with some folks driving another 5 hours to New Orleans to watch college basketball). The AirBnb host gave a recommendation for a Tex-Mex restaurant and I got there an hour before it closed. What’s there to worry about?
Nice cafe for breakfast, checked into the race next morning, picked up my beastie from TriBike Transport. Race evening: got into taking out all gear and clothing arranging my suitcase and tri bag, so I could make a quick getaway straight to the airport if I had to, and my Outrageous Commitment to Detail didn’t bother anyone.
Morning of the race: I intended to set my alarm for 3:45, but mistakenly set it for 4:45 — so I was not going to get to transition by 5 am…. But, found I could really get all my nutrition together and get out of the house in an hour. Got to the race site only 45 minutes before transition closed. Didn’t have the time to stress, just set up my area and be the last person out of the portable outhouses.
The water was unusually calm (last year, I learned, there had been white caps), with a gentle headwind for a short leg out, then 1500 meters with a slight crosswind current (as opposed to the rough n’ tumble Gulf of Mexico, where I declined to swim the day before; I couldn’t cram for this test; whatever training I had completed would have to be enough). The water was also 71 degrees – perfect for a full length wetsuit. Just before the swim, though, part of my wetsuit ripped as i was putting it on.
I wasn’t sure what I’d do if the whole left arm unraveled. I lucked out, the untorn portion stayed intact. And what could I do about it, anyway?
The race director said we would self-select to start swimming with others who expected to finish the 1.2 mile course at approximately the same time. But by the time I came out of my late morning start, the line of athletes waiting to jump off the dock stretched back for blocks along the bay facing the mainland. So the water was pretty crowded the whole way with much slower swimmers. (I later learned — from a woman at the airport who had driven the support “sag wagon” — that spreading out and delaying the swim was on purpose! Slowing down when athletes entered and finished the swim would in turn slow down the rate of athletes getting on their bicycles after the swim and make the bike route less congested; and sure enough, there were only two, self-inflicted accidents, instead of the pile ups of past years).
When we finally started, I was relaxed, almost bored from the waiting, rather than my normal jittery “what am I DOING here?” Instead of starting with all-out sprinting as planned (because I hadn’t warmed up in water; indeed, no one was allowed to do so), I cranked it up comfortably so my heart rate wasn’t out of control. Swim felt solid – got into a good rhythm, mostly looking left (my stronger side), passed a lot of people. Which was challenging in terms of swimming around them but frankly gave me a psychological boost.
Finished in 36:52, a 1:55 min./100m pace (which translates to 1:45 min./100 yds). One of my better swim results for this distance race — and it felt great. Ran up the exit ramp and legs didn’t cramp up (in contrast with my prior two races). 13/58 for my age group… Self-stripped the wetsuit by the exit while it was wet – a vast improvement in transition time. T1 in 4:10.
The 56-mile bike ride was a challenging exercise in self-restraint: Coach Steve (at www.TriEndevors.com) had made me agree to ride at around 165 watts, and not to exceed 180 watts, and THIS race I was going to Do the Best I Could Today rather than bonking on the run from trying to take the bike too fast. He predicted I’d average 19.9 mph (what is this magic algorithm, Steve?). With the wind behind us the first half (on a very straight out and back mostly along the water – very pretty), I was comfortably flying at 23-24 mph.
Ah, but the ride back of course was into the wind, so by mile 30, I was doing 17 or 18 mph. My heart rate was steady in the low 120s (an indicator of not bonking), but my legs ached from the effort of staying on top of the aero bars: first my left hip (dammit, I had promised myself I would do clamshell exercises every day to build up those muscles and avoid this particular pain), then my quads, then my glutes. But I had to stay aero the whole time, because whenever I got up briefly to get nutrition or re-fill my water torpedo, my wattage (and therefore effort) jumped up 10-15 watts, just from taking on the wind resistance. So, suffer. The 3-hour indoor sessions on the trainer all winter actually prepared me for this type of race: flat and straight. (But no Netflix when riding on the road, of course). Bottom line: 2:52:46, average of 19.37 mph. (Well done, Steve. How are you at handicapping horses and the stock market?) 17/58 for my AG. T2 in 2:14. (My transitions were only 5 seconds slower than the AG winner – who finished in a blistering 4:50 hours.)
The run (13.1 miles) was another victory over my desire to Go. Fast. Now. The plan was to run 9:30 to 10 minutes per mile, or keep my heart rate below 143 bpm, whichever was faster. (If that makes any sense.). But running off the bike, with my Fast Shoes and their springy carbon-plate inserts (am I overcompensating? You betcha), and my adductors aching from riding that horse for almost 3 hours, I stumbled into 9:00 minute miles. Again and again. And I’m trying to slow down when I peak over 143 bpm, honestly, because I want this to be the Best I Could Do Today, and I don’t want the run to collapse like I experienced during Ironman Florida 70.3 in April 2019 or the New England 70.3 in August 2021. But the 9-minute pace just felt like I was jogging, and if I tried to go any slower I’d be walking, and I was NOT going to join all those people who were walking this extraordinarily intricate, but well-marked, three-loop course.
Steve and I had discussed my starting to get faster at mile 8 or 10, and I didn’t feel ready at 8, but at the 10 mile marker I took off, ignoring the watch and a coach (total stranger, giving encouragement to whoever would listen) said, “There you go! Now he’s racing.” And another coach shouted out a mile later, “Look at that stride.” Man, all those runs with Zander and Dietmar, pushing the envelope, really paid off. And my pace dropped from 9:01 at Mile 9, to 8:51 at Mile 10, 8:38 at Mile 11, 8:43 at mile 12, and 8:36 at Mile 13, and the last 1/10th of a mile at an 8:08 pace. I was flat out. Everything hurt but nothing was injured and I was in the moment, working as hard as I could.
Finished the half marathon in 1:58:22, at an 8:53 min/mile average pace— a solid 10 minutes faster than predicted. (Like an old-fashioned elementary school report card: “Exceeds expectations.”). And finished the race in 5:34:21 hours. And came in 8/54 for my age group (yes, a jump of 9 slots from the ride!), 535/1,518 for men, 638/2,122 overall.
The bottom line: it was the Best I Could Do Today, and attained in a relaxed, zen-like attitude. (With an extra hour’s sleep.). I could get used to this lifestyle.