Race Report
Ironman 70.3 Rhode Island
Date: 7/13/08
FOREWARD
To my family, friends, and fellow tri-ers:
Rhode Island is successfully in the bag! What an amazing day – a time of 5:31 and a top third finish in my first 70.3 mile event.
Before diving into the nitty-gritty details, I want to make two brief acknowledgements:
1. A BIG THANK YOU.
To my family for being a part of this amazing day. Your support on race day provided a mental edge that is impossible to describe or appreciate. But, more important than this, it just makes the whole experience so much more fun to have family to share it with. And especially to:
Julie and Natalie, for not only sacrificing but supporting, encouraging and willing me to go after every workout over the many months leading up to race day.
Coach Cliff. We’ve come a long way, brother. Remember that first lap in the pool together? I’ll never forget it!
2. AN INTRODUCTION / DISLAIMER.
Being an amateur myself, I personally like reading reports and tips from other amateurs just as much as reports from the pro’s for a couple of reasons (i) amateurs typically write on the average racer’s level – the reports are not so dominated by jargon or fringe ideas and (ii) I have less fear that I’m reading paid advertising or heavily biased information.
The flipside is that I have come to learn that many amateurs – like me – have no idea what they are talking about! The tips you read and information you get can be conflicting, or in some cases just flat-out wrong. That said, if you are reading this to gather information about the race, you may be wondering (a) am I to trust this report and/or (b) why did this guy write 15 pages? Is it worth reading the whole thing?
In an attempt to help answer these questions:
(a) should you trust me and this report?
That is a hard question to answer. All I can really do is offer you my biography and then let you decide.
I was solely a runner from 2002 until January of 2007 when my girlfriend Julie gave me perhaps the best birthday present ever – private swim lessons with Coach Cliff! (paid advertising?). RI 08 was my third triathlon since picking up the tri-addiction (I’ve also completed approximately 8 half-marathons and one marathon - New York City 2003).
In terms of my triathlon experience, you could label me a “sophomore doubler” – I have completed one sprint distance, one Olympic distance and one 70.3 distance race – RI 08! All were approximately top third finishes. That said, I have no basis for 70.3 comparisons. If you want to know if the hills in RI were as bad as St. Croix (doubtful) or if the water was as brutal as Kona (more doubtful!), this may not be the report to read.
(b) why did I write so much, is it worth reading?
Rhode Island 70.3 was an inaugural race in 2008, so if you are considering this race in 2009 you should definitely talk to people and also read as many reports as you can find until you feel prepared.
That said, in the spirit of capturing the details, this is not the shortest of reports I admit. I have taken a few weeks to digest, reflect and compose this report before circulating it. My intention with this report was to get as many of my thoughts and feelings onto paper as possible, for myself as much as the reader. As a result, this report could be characterized as part memoire, part resource and there are certainly going to be some parts you could live without reading in preparation for your own race. That said, if you are reading this report for insight into the race itself, my hope is that you find it useful on multiple levels – for inspiration, motivation, training advice, as well as for race information. If you have any specific questions or want to chat about the race after reading, please don’t hesitate to reach out.
Thanks again to everyone, I love you all dearly and enjoy the reading!
PRE-RACE NOTES
Arrival: Friday evening, 10pm
Lodging: Westin Providence
Race-day wakeup time: 3:45 am
Race-day departure time: 4:15 am
Race-day arrival time at start: 5:10 am
Saturday morning official weigh-in: 177.5 lbs
Ironman Rhode Island 70.3 was a duel transition race, meaning that the start at transition area 1 & finish at transition 2 were about a 45-minute drive apart. The official IM recommendation (and strategy adopted by most participants) was to lodge in providence near the finish (the Westin was a perfect spot since connected to the convention center check-in / expo and two blocks from the finish) and drive to the start in the morning. Hence, an earlier wake-up time than normal – that said, at this time in the morning, what’s an extra 45 minutes!
The above format basically kills the entire day on Saturday and forces an arrival on Friday night or early Saturday morning. This was a nice, leisurely way to take up the day in a seated position amongst family – we didn’t mind the format at all. Alternative ideas if you are REALLY stressed about early Sunday wakeup or Saturday plans might be to either (a) stay near the beach at a dive on Saturday night after checking in, then have your friends or family move hotels for you on race day or (b) have a friend slip on your race bracelet and go to T1 on Saturday for you (they were pretty relaxed about allowing family to enter the transition on Saturday despite the policies).
THE SWIM
Official start: 6am
Wave start: 6:25
Conditions: 69 degree water temperature, choppy conditions, overhead shore break, but favorable current on second-half, limited offshore and costal landmarks for citing
Gear: Orca 3.2 full suit, hybrid speedo mask goggles, no watch
Race day started for me by reading a final pre-race text message. It turned out to be the most humorous message of all, which is no surprise considering the author –Julie and Natalie’s sister Marlene, one of my favorite people in the world and mother of four. It takes a lot of humor to raise this many kids!
At 1am EST, Marlene writes, “Chris, good luck, god speed and kick ass!”
After airing up the tires and getting suited up, we walked over the dune and caught our first sight of the water for the day. First impression, “Wow, there’s a lot of waves out there.”
We had toed around the water the day before in the afternoon and it was also choppy then. I was hopeful that race morning waters would be calmer… no such luck. We were so lucky as to have a hurricane tracking up the Atlantic coast 200 miles offshore that weekend. This was largely responsible for the heavier than normal surf conditions. (For readers considering this race, the water is protected by offshore rock barriers and is reported to be fairly calm under normal conditions.)
That said, there was no “avoiding” the swim. I had several good open water practices in the weeks leading up to the race, so I was feeling pretty relaxed and not too nervous at the swim start despite the conditions. I kept telling myself (a) you’ve had plenty of practice at the distance in both pool and open water and (b) who cares how long it takes you – the water temp is perfect, just treat it as a nice leisurely warm-up, FORGET about the rest of the day, and enjoy it for what it is.
Playing along with this mindset, I did NOT wear my race watch for the swim. I whispered to Natalie before the start, “This might take me a while.” I had about an hour in mind given the choppy surf.
The organizers did a good job of providing for a large, dedicated warm-up area adjacent to the start. At around 5:40, I got in the water for the first time and swam out even with the first race buoy. It was immediately apparent that the current was primarily coming on-shore with only a slight cross. Thus, the swim out would be slow, but the swim back would be fast – certainly preferable to the alternative. This knowledge made me feel a little more relaxed and comfortable.
What didn’t make me more comfortable was that I stubbed my toe on a rock while walking back from the practice area to the race start! Nice move, klutz. Again, there was nothing I could do to change or avoid a stubbed toe – adrenalin and cool water would hopefully ease the pain. I put the toe completely out of mind and the water did cure the pain fairly quickly. (After the race, the swelling started almost immediately and the tip turned black and blue within a few hours. What a start to the day. Moral of the story, you can finish a 70.3 race on a busted middle toe.)
There were approximately 150 swimmers or so in my start group (Men’s 30-35, last name M-Z). The start was the usual mess, especially with the surf breaking head-high on the shore. I chose to start toward the back and slightly outside the pack. I trotted out at the gun and approached the break, ducked under and starting stroking.
There was a lot of jostling in the first 5 minutes and I got a few good shoves, but nothing too extreme. I stayed within sight and/or behind folks who appeared to be swimming at my pace, although I still have yet to master the art of finding feet which match mine and drafting well. Maybe this is because I am generally behind slower, awkward swimmers who are somewhat inconsistent like me.
Upon citing a few times, the first thing I noticed was that the buoy markers were hard to see given the swell of the choppy water. I caught site of a marker approximately 1 out of every 2 to 3 times I glanced using a normal citing technique - aimed at poking my head out of the water just enough on the breathing rotation so that the eyes are above water for a split second and no significant break in stroke form occurs.
This meant 2 things (i) more citing was required than normal and (ii) on occasion (particularly in the early part of the race and on the turns) I had to cite with a slightly higher head elevation than normal to get a good look. There were very limited tall landmarks for citing purposes on the first half, as this portion was straight offshore – a few boats were somewhat helpful. The public beach clubhouse made for a decent landmark on the second half and – with the favorable current – I found myself citing less in general over the last third of the swim.
When I got out of the water, I felt tired but not spent. I was quite happy with my effort level. I figured my time in the water was about an hour. To my surprise, Natalie was ecstatic to tell me my time was 40 minutes! I was shocked and very pleased with this time for me in conditions such as these.
That said, my time was slow relative to other swimmers and I was surprised to learn after the race that my ranking was so low despite all the choppy water. It turns out that the favorable current led to some fast times, mine not included.
I know I am still in the infancy of my swimming capability, having spent the least amount of lifetime effort at this activity. Until getting in the water with Cliff last January, proper freestyle pool swimming was a COMPETELY foreign concept to me – let alone open water. Reaching the other end of a 25 yard pool was no easy task. My technique, times and enjoyment have improved leaps and bounds with still plenty of room left to go, which makes swimming an extremely rewarding and pleasurable exercise for me.
BIKE
Conditions: Mid 70s temperature, shaded, hilly middle third with 500 feet max elevation, several short to medium length steep climbs and descents.
Gear: Scott CR1 pro road bike (see other details below), sport sunglasses with chromatic lenses (from Wal-mart, my favorites!), no bike computer, no aero helmet, Nike watch and HR monitor.
I dried off, changed, ate a banana and had some Gatorade in transition, then was off on the bike with the small T1 fan base hooting and hollering. It is always so refreshing to get on the bike and feel that cool breeze the first few minutes after a hard swim.
The race program describes the bike course as “flat and fast”. Despite this sales pitch, the elevation chart told a different story. Approximately 500 feet of total elevation change including one steep climb of approximately three miles around the 20 mile mark, then several shorter up and down climbs from miles 20-45, then primarily a downhill to flat track to the finish.
On our drive back to Providence from the Saturday bike drop, we drove the hilly portion of the course, confirming that this was no cake walk. These were more than “rolling hills” in the countryside and certainly not “flat and fast”. Given that the bulk of my training consisted of mostly sea level terrain on Dune Road (albeit in strong winds on many days), I was a little concerned that I was undertrained for the hill climbs. I debated whether or not the ~20 mile per hour average pace I had in mind was still appropriate. Contemplating the race the night before, this was my greatest race concern.
Miles 1 to 20
The next to last piece of advice I got before the race was a text message from my friend Joe who is a two-time ironman. It was such a perfect message to help overcome my fears of the bike course and as a final pre-race thought: “1) relax, keep emotions in check and 2) enjoy the day, don’t forget to look up.”
As I evaluated myself and the current conditions at the start of the bike, I was feeling great and I remembered Joe’s text. I kept a moderate heart rate (135-145) and enjoyed looking at the shore houses and real estate along the first 20 miles of the course, knowing I would need my energy for the hills.
The first 20 miles was relatively flat with slight uphill grade as the route moved inland. At the 10 and 20 mile marks, I was averaging over 21 mph.
Miles 21-45
…and then came the hills.
I was very thankful to have driven this portion of the course the day before, as I felt mentally prepared for the challenge. To average 20 miles per hour, I knew I couldn’t lose too much time on the grades and – just as important – I couldn’t lolly-gag down the slopes.
While perhaps not the best method, I used heart rate and muscle tension as my guides on the climbs – pushing as hard as I could without (a) eclipsing the 155 to 160 heart rate mark and (b) feeling excess strain in my upper leg muscles. Gauging by the competition, this seemed to be working alright, but I clearly was being passed more on the grades than other portions of the course. I was feeling somewhat under-trained for the hills as I had suspected.
The descents were a bit of a surprise to me, as I seemed to make up a lot of ground on people who liked to coast or not push their speed. This is one trend I have noticed in races that makes no sense to me. Pushing downhill stretches is – in my opinion – a great, low impact way to make up some time without expending much extra energy. And, it’s also a heckuva lot of fun! I didn’t have a computer on my bike, so I don’t know what my max speed was… but I do know it was the fastest I have ever ridden, guessing I reached around 45 mph on one particular long, steep downhill stretch.
Nearing the end of the hill portion of the bike, I was very anxious to see my mile 40 split time. I would also get to see my family for the second time here – I strategically gave them a breakfast stop at Rick & Dee’s Restaurant in Coventry before sending them the rest of the way to T2 and the finish line in Providence. Rick & Dee’s worked out great as the parent’s would later report – a good quality, low priced breakfast and a perfect bonus stop.
To my surprise, as I crossed the mile 40 mark and saw the gang, I was still averaging slightly less than 20 mph after enduring the majority of the hills! This bit of good news – combined with seeing my family again – made this moment a highpoint of the race for me.
That said, with each passing hill I was starting to feel the effort level and muscle tension increase. For the final 16 miles of the bike, I made a conscious decision to push hard on all flat and downhill stretches, but to take it a little easier on the hills no matter what the cost in speed – as I was now assured of being pretty close to my 20 mile per hour pace goal. My thoughts were beginning to turn to the run and the prevailing thought in my mind now was, “you’ve never pushed this hard for this long on the bike and then run 13.1 miles.”
Also, I knew based on the elevation chart that this part of the bike course would not be as challenging. The worst was behind me. Thus, backing down the effort level slightly now – while perhaps not the conventional wisdom for the final miles of the bike – would be worth it to ensure a smooth run. Little did I know what was to come.
Around mile 45, I couldn’t resist breaking with this decision for a 5 mile stretch, as a cute, young girl sponsored by Timex passed me at a pace very near my own. The temptation was too great not to “go get her” – despite that I had just decided to ease up a bit. I couldn’t help thinking how ironic the timing of her passing was – someone must strategically put extra girls on the course for suckers like me at the least opportune moments!
It was the flat and downhill stretches where I had a chance to catch her. Without drafting, I rode behind her and one other rider for approximately a half mile. Then, I cranked it up a bit and passed her.
For approximately a half mile, she followed me. Then on a slight uphill grade, she passed me back. We exchanged 2 or 3 times this way for about 5 miles. Then, my conscience took over. I could have gone on this way for the remainder of the ride and really enjoyed the additional pace and challenge, but my brain thankfully re-engaged and told me not to let 20 minutes of fun kill the rest of my day. I never saw her again.
As I had hoped, I finished the bike in well under 3 hours and averaged over 20 miles per hour. Considering the hill portion of the course and my slight under-training, I was very happy with this time.
For the gear-obsessed folks out there who may wonder, I rode a Scott CR1 pro road bike with 2 full Gatorade bottles, standard rims (no zipp wheels, although many who passed me were riding with them), standard gyros helmet (not super-aero style, although – again – many who passed me were riding with them), clip on aerobars, and a seat pack with two tubes, two CO2s and some light tools.
Nutrition wise, I stuck to my plan to consume approximately 200 to 300 solid calories per hour in 30 min segments, plus Gatorade and water. For solids, I ate cliff bars early and late during the bike with some high-sodium gel packs in between. One of my bottles was also a high concentration Gatorade, the other was water with a touch of Gatorade for flavor. I took additional plain water at nearly all the rest stops as needed and stopped once at the rest room at approximately mile 40.
After the hill segment of the bike was over around mile 40-45, I took notice that I could feel the day and my body heating up. My heart rate had leveled at around 142-145. While I was attentive to consume enough food and liquid during the bike to ensure a successful run and finish, my nutrition science and game plan has always been somewhat ad hoc – and unfortunately this was about to lead to some issues on the run.
RUN
Conditions: Mid 80’s, moderate humidity, approximately half shaded, two loop course, flat except one VERY steep quarter mile climb near the start of each loop which most people walked.
Gear: Asics Gel Nimbus, Craft tri shorts & top, tri-star running visor, same glasses and watch from bike.
I got to transition feeling just the right balance of tired but excited with a little more gas left in the tank. I ate some mushy banana, half of a cliff bar, drank the remaining shot of concentrated Gatorade I had left on my bike, and got on the road.
Miles 1-3.3 (first quarter)
As I exited the tree covered transition area onto the sun drenched pavement, my first impression was that my legs felt really good and I was very relaxed, but it was hot.
About 200 yards from T2, I saw my family. They were really excited – Julie and Natalie ran along the sidewalk with me for about 50 yards or so. I told Natalie that I felt good and thought I might have a really good run.
Unfortunately, I jinxed myself. As I neared the first aid station about a half mile into the run, my good spirit took a 180 degree turn as I felt the first signs of an old nemesis – my left hamstring was twitching. I didn’t have full on cramps yet, I just felt that tenderness where you know a cramp is assuredly coming at some point.
To have this feeling so early in the run was REALLY discouraging. I was fairly upset at the first water station. Compound this by the fact that after the first water station came the mother of all short, steep hill climbs – a three block stretch of San Fran style, hyper-steep streets leading up to a flat plateau area which made up the rest of the course – a 3 mile “out and back” to be repeated twice.
I did not preview the run course prior to race day – like the bike course, the run was also billed as flat and fast in the race guides. Thus, this monster-hill came as quite a surprise.
Despite being pretty annoyed at this point with my condition and the hill, I told myself to stay calm, think, and evaluate. Rarely is there ever a perfect race day and I had experienced cramping before. During the last 4 miles of the New York City Marathon, I had significant cramping issues and finished despite them in 3:40. My first thought when I felt my hamstring twitching was, “Wow, what a long, painful run this is going to be.”
My “real” outside race goal – the one they say you shouldn’t talk about before the race with anyone but yourself and your mentors – actually wasn’t a time goal for the overall race, but for the run only. My goal was to run the same half marathon time in Rhode Island as I ran in the Brooklyn half marathon back in May – 1 hour and 30 minutes or a 7:30 min per mile pace. For the Brooklyn half marathon, I of course didn’t spend three and a half hours swimming and biking beforehand – and therein lies the performance and fitness challenge. If I was able to reach this time on the run without hurting myself or suffering beyond the point of enjoying the day, it would be an overwhelming accomplishment and likely lead me to start training immediately for whatever full Ironman I could find my way into later in the year.
As a quick aside, it is important to me personally to stay true to the reasons I race. I use racing purely as motivator to maintain a high level of fitness. Thus, my run time goal would tell me all I needed to know. Although top third finishes seem to be my norm, I have never been obsessed over total time or ranking goals since racing is not (nor will it ever be) my day job. This lack of competitive motivation and ego about race times makes a great difference and is one of the most pleasant things about amateur road racing for me.
With the onset of potential cramps, my run goal and thoughts about a full Ironman were now far out of mind. I needed to put my disappointment aside, think positive and come up with a new game plan.
To give myself a chance to consider matters and rest a little, I walked at the first water stop and up the monster hill with the rest of the gang. As one person noted while walking, “I can’t run any faster up this hill than I can walk, so I may as well walk!” I completely agreed.
As I squeezed a cold water sponge over my head and took in some water and Gatorade, my first thought was “don’t over-react”. Now that I was walking and with the heart rate and body temp cooled down a little, I was feeling OK again. The twitching had subsided. I also thought that – because the cramps were coming so early – this could just be a transition issue. Going from one activity to another, different muscles are engaged. There is always a period of sluggishness to overcome after transitions.
Thus, my new strategy was to ease back into a jog upon reaching the top of the hill and not to jump to conclusions yet. For now, I would just remember Joe’s words – relax and enjoy the day – see how the next couple of miles go. If I had no issues after a half mile or so, I would push the pace slowly back up until I reached a normal heart rate zone. If I had issues again, I would back off.
Surmounting the hill with these new thoughts in mind, I started a light jog. In line with the power of positive thinking, I also took to enjoying the surroundings. This part of the run past the hill was quite pleasant – a tree lined, shaded street with a wide walking park dividing the road. There were a significant number of spectators here lining the park. I thanked and slapped hands with some folks, put a smile on my face, and enjoyed running with the people around me who all seemed to be trying to do the same for the most part.
I also noticed that I wasn’t getting passed much at this point. In fact, I was doing most of the passing. Most of the people going slower were in the 35+ age groups or girls. (Each triathalete is marked on the calf with a race number and age). This led me to wonder, “Where are all the 30-35 males? I must be behind them?” As I would learn later, most weren’t ahead of me after all.
I continued to feel good for the next couple miles or so and was slowly increasing pace according to plan. I was also taking in a lot of water, Gatorade and high-sodium gel. Cliff would later tell me I shouldn’t be mixing Gel and Gatorade, and I also should have taken salt tablets. I was clearly under-prepared with regard to nutrition.
Miles 3.3-6.6 (second quarter)
Reaching the turnaround point, the course changed to a very slight downhill. (I hadn’t even realized that it was slightly uphill on the way to this point.) I was feeling relaxed and my worries over cramping were subsiding. Thus, on this easier part of the course, I decided to push the pace just slightly to see how the muscles would respond.
Unfortunately, with not much increase in effort, the hamstring twitching began again. And now I could feel that both hamstrings were at risk of cramping. It was at this moment – during mile four or so – when I came to the moment of realization. I wasn’t having simple transition issues and I also wasn’t going to make my run goal for a 7:30 pace – I’d be lucky to run an 8:30 the way things were going.
While this was another very disappointing moment, I also wasn’t going to let this ruin my day. I eased back the pace again, let the twitching subside, and kept taking lots of water and Gatorade at the water stops. It was time to try to relax, forget about my stopwatch and just enjoy the rest of the day – going as fast as the body would allow, at least for the next 5 or 6 miles until I got to within a few miles of the finish. Maybe I would get lucky and be able to “gut out” a little faster pace in the final quarter if the cramps stayed away. Going at the pace I was now – at a pace of around 8:45 per mile – I knew that even a strong finish in the last few miles was not likely to make much of a time difference.
I was now nearing the downhill portion of the steep hill near the start / finish line and also the start of the second loop. The steep downhill, while not a muscular challenging, was nearly as annoying as going up the hill. The grade was so steep that the pounding affect on the joints and legs made it difficult to push speed down the hill. I did my best to focus on a softer foot-strike and relaxing into a faster pace down the hill, but even downhill coasting wasn’t such a breeze!
Miles 6.6-9.9 (third quarter)
Seeing my family again at the start of the second loop was a nice relief and I put on my game face for them, I wasn’t about to show any signs of struggle.
The start / finish area was mainly flat, but for a slight grade for about 200 yards approaching the finish line on the state capitol grounds. In a light-hearted way without seeming too concerned, I told Julie and Natalie that the run may not go so well after all – that I was having a little cramping, but wasn’t too worried yet. They were very supportive, but for me breaking the news to someone other than myself really stung.
I reached the same steep incline at the beginning of the second loop and again used it as a chance to walk a little and recharge. I took in a little bit of cliff bar, a shot of soda, some water and doused myself with several cold sponges, including on my hamstrings. On this second loop, literally everyone around me walked up all or most of the hill. Again, I wasn’t seeing many people my age and wondered if they were ahead or behind me.
After the race, I would learn that I actually ended up improving my ranking on the run relative to the overall field and my age group – thus, unbeknown to me at the time a lot of people were having slow runs that day like me. While the heat was in the mid-80’s at this point and definitely a factor, the humidity did not feel too extreme to me and the run course was well shaded.
The most interesting personal data point of the day to me as I approached the final turn-around and last quarter of the run was my heart rate – which had been hovering over the last 6 miles or so while I had been taking it easy in the 153 to 160 range and not increasing. Because of my cramping issues, I simply was not able to get my heart rate into that 160 to 165 zone I typically like to reach on the last half to third of long endurance events. In other words, the cardiovascular part of my body had the stamina to go faster, but my legs were saying “no way”.
This was both encouraging and discouraging to me at the same time. I was clearly well-trained for the day, but I had neglected to focus on preventing a problem that I have had issues with in the past (although not always). In my pre-race planning, I had basically ignored it and hoped it wouldn’t be an issue – as it hadn’t been an issue in my training. Training and racing are two very different exercises and I had not given race day the respect it deserves by anticipating the cramping issues.
Miles 9.9-13.2 (The Finish)
Thinking now about my efforts and the events of the day coming to an end, I was definitely getting a little emotional. I had one thought going into the last quarter of the race – forget about pre-race issues, post-race issues, cramps, other participants… it was time to drop the hammer and leave it all out there for 25 more minutes! If I cramped, then I cramped – at this point I could walk or stop long enough to recover without jeopardizing my ability to finish.
There was a girl who had passed me and been running just in front of me for about a mile. She was the first goal. I picked up my speed just enough to pass her.
My heart rate was between 160 to 163 and I was keeping a close watch on it increasing. It was difficult for me to tell what pace I was running given my fatigue level. I didn’t really care to know anyway, as it was now very difficult to push faster at what I knew was a slower pace than I had hoped to be running at this point.
Then, within a few minutes, to my surprise my companion passed me back!
At the next to last aide station with around 2.0 miles to go, we both took a bit of water and Gatorade – I ended up ahead of her again after the water stop for a short period until she once again passed me.
This time however, she gave me a little wave from behind as if to say “get up here with me, finish strong.”
What a blessing to have this push. This was all the motivation I needed and a nice way to finish the race. I picked up pace more significantly now, passed her a few minutes after the water station, and stayed in front of her the rest of the way. She kept up for about a mile or so right on my tail, but trailed off toward the end as I attempted (but failed) to catch one or two faster paced runners who were ahead.
Other than these few runners who I attempted to catch, I was not being passed by anyone and was generally passing a lot of people. There were a significant number of people who slowed and struggled in this final stretch. The last downhill was – again – so steep that running down it this time was like being hit in the legs with tiny hammers. I tried to soften my stride as much as possible. Then at the bottom of the hill, I gave it all I had for the final half mile – which wasn’t much.
Seeing my family again was a wonderful feeling, but I honestly don’t remember a whole lot in terms of how they looked, what they said, where they were or what was going on around me. Thankfully, I did remember to say happy birthday to Natalie!
And then, it was over. I felt tired, a bit dehydrated and very wobbly at the finish, but I wasn’t nearly exhausted to the point of failure. I was walking and talking, and we took some fun pictures on the capitol steps, which I was able to get up and down fairly easily.
We walked back to the hotel together and shared stories from the day – the perfect breakfast stop, the phone calls and well-wishes from family and friends, and how amazing all the participants were on a perfect day for racing.
AFTERWARD
Total race time: 5 hours, 31 minutes
Overall rank: 430 of 1300
What did I learn from the race?
I ask myself this question after every race – the longer the distance and the crazier the elements, the more you tend to learn. That said, I learned a lot from this one:
1. You can’t cheat nutrition.
I clearly need to focus more effort here to give myself all the advantage I can in hopes of preventing cramping and muscular issues. This was a rookie mistake. Not taking salt tabs, mixing Gatorade and GU, pre-race nutrition, etc.
2. You can’t cheat any aspect of long-endurance races in general.
“But for the hills on the bike, I felt like I was adequately trained.” I made this statement to more than one person after the race. In hindsight, the “but” is the most critical portion of this statement. I wasn’t adequately trained for the race. To be fully trained means that you suffer from no issues that are in your control. The energy I spent tackling the hills on the bike was also likely a significant issue that contributed to cramping on the run.
Bottomline – the longer the race, the more important every component of preparation becomes. You can cheat one or even more than one element in a 30, 60 or even 90 minute race and get away with it without any huge impact – but not in a race this long.
There is no substitute for knowing the course and knowing yourself and training for every part – and it’s this level of preparation that makes the challenge all that more fun at the amateur level. Amateur or pro, you will only do well if you are very prepared – not just in shape.
3. I had gas in the tank to go faster on the run, absent the cramps.
The best evidence of this is (i) my relatively low max heart rate in the final half of the race, (ii) my modest fatigue level after the race and (iii) my quick recovery. A week after the race, I ran a 6:23 per mile pace in the Westhampton 5k and followed this with a 15-mile run the following day. I realize that neither of these activities are advisable to do so soon after race day. But, these runs did re-establish quite a bit of my running confidence.
Three weeks later, I also ran another 5k race at 6:28 pace with very modest training effort since Rhode Island – another re-deemer, but now it’s time to get back to endurance.
4. I could benefit from a power meter.
Especially on the bike, I tend to “rough it” in terms of measuring muscle fatigue. Had I used a power meter instead of just a heart rate monitor throughout training and on race day, I would have probably had a much better sense on the bike that maybe a few of those hill pushes were a little above the effort level I should have been giving – risking my ability to push hard on the run.
5. There is no substitute for open water swim training and good citing technique.
I am still by no means a great swimmer – especially in open water. But I do know without question that the ONLY reason I was so calm on race morning in very choppy conditions was that I had two great open water swims the week before the race where I felt that my citing technique and comfort level in the water had turned a significant corner. After these training swims and this race, I think my open water swimming fears are officially over. Reaching this point is an amazing feeling given that I started triathlon two seasons ago with absolutely no ability to freestyle swim in a pool let alone dark, cold water in the open seas.
Which segment of the race was I happiest with / most proud of?
I was happiest with bike, swim and run in this order.
If you had to be disappointed by one, as it turns out I’m really glad it was the run. A disappointing swim would have been discouraging for the remainder of the day and could have led to mental meltdown. A disappointing bike would have meant a poor overall time – event though overall time wasn’t my goal, this also would have been somewhat discouraging mentally in deciding whether or not to consider a full Ironman event.
I was very proud to have pushed my way through a hillier than expected bike course – and gaining 10 or 15 minutes on the bike was a better risk / reward than hoping to make up the same amount of time at the end of the day on the run when anything could happen. In light of my cramping during the run – which I think likely would have occurred even if my bike time was slower given nutrition issues – pushing during the bike was a smart decision.
To be fair to myself, I also can’t be that disappointed with 9 min pace for my first 70.3 Ironman run. While my training consisted of some extreme workouts (20 weeks including many 3 and 4 hour days plus one 8 hour bike tour), none consisted of an exact duplication of the race day event. While I felt prepared, I did not stick to my normal habit of duplicating the race during training which perhaps was also a mistake.
I was surprised after the run and reviewing the statistics to learn that – while I didn’t have the run time I was personally hoping for – I actually managed to improve my overall and age group place position on the run. In hindsight, my run goal was probably aggressive and I shouldn’t be that disappointed with a 9 minute pace average.
What was the most enjoyable part of the experience?
Having my family together (the first time both Julie’s parents and my parents have been together at the same time after 8 years of dating!), seeing us all so happy together, and celebrating the day, each other and the race.
Ironically, I also actually enjoyed swim very much. After getting in the water and starting to stroke, the fact that I was remaining calm and wasn’t having any issues created an optimism within me that was a perfect way to start the day.
Why do you put yourself through this much exercise and pain? What’s fun about it?
I am a fairly competitive person, but not with road racing. I don’t train to compete. I train for fitness. This is my constant goal, to keep my whole body as fit as it can possibly be within the limits of my time and energy. Given the swimming component in particular, triathlon is a great way to accomplish this “total body” fitness goal.
So why race and why this long a distance? I use races as a way to stay motivated, and I like long distance mainly because of the resulting affect on body shape and feel. Endurance training is a metaphor for life, and results in a lean muscular physique that is built to last. Short-distance or “power” athletes have a much different training pattern which results in a bulkier build.
Another aspect I like about endurance triathlon versus endurance running of biking is that a higher percentage of the amateur racers seem to be in really good shape and have similar motivations to my own. This surely has to do with the extra challenge and effort it takes to become cyclist, runner and (especially) swimmer versus focusing solely on only biking or running – let’s face it, the lower level of effort required to lace up a pair of shoes or hop on a bike and train for races (or not train) results in wide variation in the fitness level of the participants in running and biking events. With triathlon, the addition of swimming weeds out a significant portion of the participants and raises the average fitness level of average participant considerably.
What’s next?
I have nothing on the calendar.
I know that I probably won’t be able to continue “doubling distance”. I made a conscious decision not to do an Olympic-distance training race in preparation for RI 70.3, (a) mostly because I wasn’t able to find a race that worked well with our summer schedule, and (b) partially because I just wasn’t worried about the distance of any of the components given the training I had done. For a full ironman, I almost certainly would use a 70.3 event as a training race given the difference in swim distance.
Given my performance, I am relatively sure I want to go for a full ironman. My preference would be to continue to build the training base that I already have for a late season event rather than have to maintain fitness all winter and then ramp back up.
However, options for late season races are limited to basically Tempe, Arizona or Western Australia – neither of which are ideal. If there is one recommendation I have for the Ironman organization, it would be to encourage more late season races. Additional events in the Caribbean or Florida would be perfect to add to the mix for us non-Kona bound amateurs. Ironman Bahamas or Bermuda or Jamaica or Miami – pick an easy to fly to spot with good hotel options, hold the event in December or January and there would be East Coast participants like me in droves coming off of successful 70.3 performances who want the extra time to recover and train for the full Ironman distance, but don’t want to wait for next season to compete.
Many thanks to everyone, again. 2008 was a great tri-year for me, not matter what comes of the rest of the season and 2009. Rhode Island is definitely a top quality event that first-time 70.3 racers or amateurs should consider and will enjoy.
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. He was amazing enough to be there for me and the other tristar athletes. I ate my two cliff bars. I wanted to eat the beef Jerky sitting on the side table but I remembered the wise words of Cliff, “no food with fiber before the race”. That sucks I told myself – anyway – went to the rest room (very important), stretched (equally important), and got ready for the race. I don’t know why but I was in an amazingly happy mood this morning. I wasn’t scared or tensed about the race, which is very unusual. I kept on telling myself that it’s going to be an adventures day. Dam I couldn’t believe it, I was actually looking forward to the race. 
