Well, that wasn't pretty. The downside: My worst swim time in a very long time, and my overall time was 18 minutes slower than my PR in May. The upside: I ranked higher in every category than in May -- swim, bike, run, and overall. Apparently the course was hard for everyone, and I'm gradually moving my way up the rankings.
I knew coming into the Patriots Half that it would be difficult to get a personal record. No wetsuit, a longer bike course, and the heat didn't help. It was intended to be a "workout" more than a race, though I still raced the bike course as if my life depended on it. In the end, I put up a great bike time and a respectable run, but my swim was an absolute disaster. After swimming over 100 miles in the pool over the last 10 months, I'm not sure where to go with the swim, other than accept that I'll always have to pass 80% of the other participants on the bike course.
No major injuries, good experience, and some new lessons learned. Ironman Florida is right on track. Here's the race report:
I was back and forth on whether to wear a wetsuit literally until the morning of the race. The water temperature just prior to the race was 80.9 degrees, so the wetsuit would have disqualified me. I decided to "keep the rules" and swim with no suit. It's been a few years since I've raced in open water without a wetsuit. And I forgot just how SLOW I am without one!
The James River isn't really brackish -- it's sort of lightly salted like a chick'n a biscuit. We were allowed to wade out about 50 meters to start the race, probably because the river is only about waist-high for 75 meters out. When the gun sounded, I started "in the front" and was quickly squeezed out of my spot. "In the back" is where I spent the rest of my time swimming. After the first buoy, there is a long straightaway -- probably 3/4 of a mile -- during which I swam "downstream." But the current pulled at something of an angle, and I kept finding myself drifting to the left when the marker was on my right. In hindsight, I should have taken the first corner wide and let the current pull me back in the direction of the marker, but instead I let the current drag me toward shore, then cut 90 degrees across the current to get back on track, then let the current drag me, then cut 90 degrees ... and so on for 3/4 of a mile. I don't look at my watch while I swim, but I didn't have to. I knew I was hemorrhaging time during the swim.
About 75 meters from the shore, people were standing up and walking all around me. Every other stroke, I caught a handful of mud. But to stand and walk meant a very slow finish, so I resorted to putting down my feet, leaping out of the water into a quick surface dive, followed by 2-3 strokes and another dive. It was a relatively effective way to get to shore, and it probably kept me from being 52nd out of 52 (instead of 42nd). When I got out of the water, my watch said 51-something, and I knew my hopes of a PR were over. That said, I don't give up easily, so I ran to the transition and prepared for a blistering bike ride.
I apparently didn't pray enough to the Gods of Transition this week -- my bike was lost in the middle of nowhere-transition-land, and the dude next to me had a towel that took up about 3 spaces. I had to wait over 5 minutes for him to leave so that I could kick his stuff out of the way and roll out my own big towel.
Bike: 58 miles in 2:39:08, avg. pace 22.0mph (9/52 in age group, 29/304 overall men)
One upside of being a slow swimmer is that I get to pass literally hundreds of people on the bike. I averaged a slightly higher pace for the 58 miles than at the Kinetic in May, and I kept the pace relatively constant. I have been practicing on flat courses for several weeks now, and the work really paid off. However, a flat ride with only slightly rolling hills can cause cramps and some real discomfort, even though my bike fits me very well. I periodically had to get out of the saddle and pump my legs just to get circulation moving to all parts of my legs. The bike fitting was worth every penny.
It took me over an hour to finally catch up with Rob Stone, who was having a spectacular race. (He started 3 minutes after me, and finished swimming 6 minutes before me!) It was good to see a friendly face on the course.
The only real drawback of the bike leg was a group of 4 "drafters" who tucked in behind me and followed me for 35-40 of the 58 miles. In triathlon, drafting is illegal, and race officials tack on penalties ... if they catch you. These guys feigned passes and played musical chairs behind me, but they were clearly going along for the ride. It was obvious that they were cheating, and I even called out #95 for it. In fact, three different people at the finish line told me, "Oh yeah, 166, you had a bunch of guys behind you -- number 95, 155, 175, etc." After the race, I eagerly checked the results to see if any of them had been flagged by the numerous race officials on motorcycles. Only one -- 155 -- and he wasn't the most egregious drafter.
Run: 13.1 miles in 1:46:23 (7/52 in age group, 32/304 overall men)
The run course is flat, about 60% shaded, and 40% blazing HOT. About 11am, the sun came out from behind the clouds and the temperature rose to 85. My legs were in good condition for the run, but the heat threatened to make this a difficult half-marathon. If I had been in the running for a PR, I probably would have pushed the pace a little. A little bit of math told me a PR was impossible, so I decided to stick to an 8min/mile pace with stops at every water table. It was a good strategy for a "workout" race, and I still had a good amount of energy by the end of the race. There was no need to completely burn myself out and risk injury, so I tried to enjoy the run as much as possible after nearly 4 hours of racing.
There were a few mishaps on the course. I accidentally squirted a coffee-flavored GU into my mouth and about vomited. My breath still smelled like coffee at the end of the race. (Note to self -- read the freaking label before you eat.) I also had a really hard time opening GUs at the end, and had to stop and gnaw on one to poke a hole in it around mile 7. (Note to self -- dry off your hands before trying to open a GU, because your teeth just aren't that sharp.) I also violated my fundamental rule of keeping my feet dry and accidentally dropped a cup of water on my toes. Had the run been any longer, I would have had some black & blue toenails instead of just a few sore toes.
In the end, I'm still a runner, and my run is peaking right now. So the run was not nearly as painful or labored as usual. I even had enough energy to flex, hoot, and holler at the crowd for the last 100 meters. "Yeahhhh!!! Whooooot!!! Ohhh Yeahhh!!!" I was 2 minutes off my PR run time, but glad to finish without any serious problems.
There are no "B priority" races, that's for sure. I'm disappointed to have missed my PR, and by a longshot. But I'm not disappointed that I finished the race and was able to jump around in a moon bounce with my kids a few hours after the race. I'm lucky to have these opportunities to push my body to the limits, and to enter these races in the first place.
This is the final tune-up race before Ironman in November. My body is certanly not excited about the inevitable pains of that distance, but I think my physical and mental training is right on track. I'll take a day or two off training, then ease back into it for one final push.
The moonbounce. The kids will appreciate that first, but someday...in the future, they will appreciate your IronMan status. I do.
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