THIS was a race that I’ve been training for and dreading since November 2023: an 8-part triathlon. For months I’ve counted them out for incredulous listeners on two hands: Bike 30 miles. Then Run, Swim, Run, Swim, Run, Swim, Run. (It’s still a “triathlon” because it’s only three sports.) Running/tri buddy Kevin Carlsten had emailed and said “this sounds like something crazy that Mark would do. Wanna do it?” How could I resist?
SOS or “Survival of the Shawangunks” (pronounced “Sh’WAN-gunks”) takes place in the lakes and trails of “The Gunks”, mountains in New Paltz, around 100 miles north of New York City. Because the swim-runs are point to point, you have to carry your running shoes on the swims in the notoriously cold Lakes (Awosting, Minnewaska and Mohonk) before ascending to the Lookout Tower at Mohonk Preserve. For two months, I had practiced with my shoes tucked in under my shorts and behind my hamstrings.
Five weeks before the race I attended “SOS Boot Camp” — a collection of the nicest, craziest endurance athletes I’ve met — where we rode the bike course, ran most of the carriage trails, visited the swim-ins and swim-outs, and swam a bit in Lake Minnewaska. Warm in August, but that would change!
It was the cold that most concerned me. After only 45 minutes in a 74-degree pool, I’m shivering. The lakes would be between 68 and 58 degrees. So after meeting a woman at Boot Camp who had the same issue, I adopted her solution: I bought a swimrun wetsuit. (“Swimrun” is a sport in Sweden.) Running material in the short pants, neoprene on the chest and short sleeves, and additional “arm warmers” that really make the difference. On race day, I counted around 6 other people with wetsuits…
Bike: 30 miles. We lined up by age group (9 of us in the 60-64 men’s category), and took off down the first 25 miles of flats with some rolling hills (with 5 of my group shooting ahead…). I hit my 20-21 mph goal for the first 15 miles; was startled that we had to walk our bikes on the sidewalk around some construction; and the next 10 slowed down to 17ish mph; and then The Hill — 5+ miles of continuous up. 1:53 hours for 30 miles (15.4 mph, including that elevation) — a little slower than expected.
Transtion # 1 was sub-optimal for lack of mental preparation: I simply didn’t picture what it would be like to dump out my bag of running gear, throw in my bike gear, dump the bag again for my sunglasses clip-ons, throw gear in bag, dump out for something else, throw in gear again, PLUS the usual changing shoes. 5:34 for a transition! The good news: an opportunity for vast improvement…
Run # 1: 4.5 miles. Started comfortable, walked some of “Cardiac Hill” at Mile 2 (following the lead of another Old Guy who had done this 6 times before and had passed me on the bike), heard something clatter at Mile 4 but had all my gels (should I eat one?). And as I got to the water’s edge: realized my goggles had slipped out of my shirt. Ran back a little, asked if anyone had seen them, and this young guy (he was the only one in the 20-25 age group!) said he had a second pair and lent them to me. What a mensch!
Transition #2: Put on sleeves and wetsuit top, shoved in shoes and OFF WE GO! 2:32 minutes. Meh.
Swim #1: 1.1 miles across Lake Awosting. Water was 68 or 69 degrees, not too cold for most folks, but I was happy staying warm in the wetsuit. Although cramps started up in my hamstrings (Race Director Alex Sherwood at Boot Camp: “If you don’t cramp on this race, ask for your money back!”), I recognized the cramps were from looking up too high to sight and got them under control. Acknowledged in the middle how beautiful the water and the lake were (and that I was swimming!). Finished in 40:00 min. (2:06 min/100 yds.).
Transition #3: Got to the end (hurray!), pulled shoes out from behind legs in back of my shorts, another guy is laughing and grimacing with cramping so much he can’t stand up (a volunteer from the shore: “Don’t these guys know they have to get out of the water?”), I reach for my shoes floating away and dropped the goggles — never to be found again! To paraphrase Oscar Wilde in The Importance of Being Earnest: “To lose one pair of goggles is tragic. To lose two is simply careless!” Grabbed two Honey Sticker gels. (Saw a volunteer walking with a woman shivering in an aluminum foil blanket. There but for the grace of God go I…). T3 in 4:33 minutes. Ugh More room for improvement!
Run #2: 5.5 miles. Struggling to grab a UCAN energy gel from pocket in back of the wetsuit (trying to take them every hour, but so hard to pull them out), take off the sleeves, unzip and pull down the wetsuit…. Such a distraction, and not a great way to run. Pretty, but distracted by how I was going to swim across two more lakes without goggles…. Forgot to take salt tablets. Struggled to get wetsuit and sleeves back on, and probably should have taken more nutrition (stick with the plan, man!). 55:43 (10:18 min/mile). Not the 9-minute miles Coach Steve and I had planned.
Transition #4: No time wasted on goggles and getting glasses into the shoe. Simply get shoes into back of pants and… swim with glasses on! (My spare pair of “racing glasses” have cables that loop around my ears, and the swim cap over my ears kept them in place. Plus my sunglasses clip-ons hook tightly around the frames.). 1:03 minutes.
Swim #2: 0.5 miles. Sighting was a breeze! First of all, there’s a rope the entire length of Lake Minnewaska for this race; with every breath on my right side, I see that I haven’t wandered. Secondly, with my actual prescription glasses, the world above the water is exceptionally clear. Mild cramping in hamstrings — recognized it before it hit me, and relaxed through it. Felt solid, but took 18:45 minutes (2:08 min/100 yds.).
Transition #5: Got to the ledge where a race director was standing (“come right up to me!” The water was very deep except for that rock jutting out), sat and took shoes out. Uphill and on the trail = 1:26 minutes.
Run #3: 8 miles to the next swim. Again, struggle to get out of the wetsuit top and the sleeves (start it over, do the sleeves first!) and this is when the wheels fall off: I forget to eat until Mile 4 or 5. UCAN gel, then gel with caffeine, then another gel at a rest stop, but I’m behind on calories/carbs and despite the beautiful downhills for the first 3-4 miles (dropped a swimsuit sleeve, run back uphill to get it), so when I get to the flats I am slogging. Another runner recognizes me, we figure out it’s from the LItchfield Olympic tri last year and he is FAR too cheerful as he passes and drops me going up “Godzilla” at Mile 7 (which wasn’t so bad except for the fact that I’m bonking.). BUT: managed to remember to enjoy the beautiful dappled sunlight coming through the trees, to marvel at the groups rock climbing next to the trail, to be grateful for the ability to RUN and race. Finish in 1:24 (10:03 min/mile) — not the pace I had wanted, but I am surviving and grateful.
Transition #6: Got to get those darn shoes in back of the pants, walk over the fence, carefully walk down the steep, narrow dirt path, pick my way among the rocks, and start swimming. Again, no time wasted on those silly goggles. 1:49 minutes.
Swim # 3: Lake Mohonk is short and familiar — I’d been here for a family reunion 11 years ago— and sighting is easy with my glasses on, but my eyes are stinging, I have to admit. By this time, I’m not caring much about speed, and the shoes on top of hamstrings are discouraging me from kicking, and my arms are TIRED from swimming and stopping and swimming again… But the end is in sight! 0.5 miles (maybe; Garmin said it was shorter) in 14:33 (1:54 min/100 yds.) — apparently my fastest leg.
Transition #7: Get shoes out from pants, get them on, up and out of the lake. 1:29 minutes.
Run #4: Up, up, up to the Lookout Tower! Felt solid, except for seeing so many racers and families who had finished walking DOWNHILL. (This is like seeing the people dressed as the Statue of Liberty passing you on the NYC Marathon…). Very steep, ran almost all of it (except for the huge rocky stairs). 7:03 for .7 miles (10:03 min/mile).
Got there and crossed the SURVIVOR LINE – “You. Are. A. Survivor!” Finished in 6:35:39 — 6/9 for AG, 103/211 OA (including the 25 DNFs, which included ultramarathoner Mike whom I had met at Boot Camp).
This was certainly harder than any Half Ironman “70.3” I’ve ever done (even though this was only 50.3 miles). I will probably try it again — can I do it without the wetsuit? That would remove a distraction, but I so hate the cold… I can be more disciplined about the nutrition. But overall it was beautiful and thrilling.
I survived. I had fun. I’ll be back.
