(Kate and I before the swim.)
Results:
http://ironman.com/events/ironman70.3/rhodeisland70.3/?show=raceresults&year=2008&format=txt
SWIM | BIKE | RUN | OVERALL | RANK | DIV.POS.
38:29 | 2:48:51 | 1:40:38 | 5:19:09 | 335 of 1265 | 40 of 108
LEG DISTANCE | PACE | RANK | DIV.POS.
TOTAL SWIM 1.2 mi. | (38:29) | 2:01/100m | 765 | 73
TOTAL BIKE 56 mi. | (2:48:51) | 19.90 mph | 539 | 55
TOTAL RUN 13.1 mi. | (1:40:38) | 7:40/mile | 335 | 40
T1: SWIM-TO-BIKE 6:37
T2: BIKE-TO-RUN 4:34
What:
1.2 mile ocean swim
56 mile bike
13.1 mile run
Where:
Providence, RI
Narraganset to Providence (point to point)
How was the race?
In knowing my pre-race anxiety and intense preparation, people ask me "How was the race?" I'm sure you can relate to such a predicament where you are challenged with summarizing all of the glory and guts of a several hour endeavor into a short sentence. Knowing that no summation will ever quite suffice, I would respond to the original question with "I am proud to have earned my time."
Quick highlights:
I overcame my habitual overly anxious attitude and relaxed about the "race" (by thinking of it as just a big day of working out).
I had visualized and trained well enough to avoid panicking with everyone stirring up the water.
Loved the bike course, and was gifted with a perfect balance of clouds and sun, while riding in only the big ring.
Exercised persistent determination on the run for the last 12miles of the 13.1 mile hilly and hot course.
Disclaimer:
If you have countless hours to kill and enjoy re-living my Sunday vicariously, read on. Otherwise, you're probably better off getting on your bike and enjoying a good ride on such a beautiful day.
Training:
I earned every mile, because of the miles spent training before the race even began. I signed up for the race on December 31st, 2007 at 11:24pm. I began training at 8am on January 1st. By February I was working out about 10-16 hours a week, 3x a day every couple days. I pushed myself to bike to work, do cross-fit, then bike back home... sometimes with a cherry of a run thrown in on top. Eventually I did Harpoon's Brewery to Brewery 146 mile - 1 day ride. My bike legs felt ready. However in the water, I had to confront my panic reaction when swimming with people's feet in my head area. I had to gain the confidence to not feel overwhelmed at the onset of a 1.2 mile swim. I had to learn how to adapt to swimming in the salty and wavy ocean. I pretty much dropped training for the run for the last month so that I could focus on swimming. Knowing that I would need to push myself so far out of my comfort zone was definitely one of the biggest reasons for committing to a half-ironman.
Race-day Eve:
The day before the race I arrived in Providence with two of my favorite people, Patrick and Kate: my recent roommate and his girlfriend. (She's the one who inspired me to sign up for this craziness, and raced with me on Sunday.) As race day approached I could feel the pit in my stomach growing with anxiety. Then I had an epiphany: I don't need to "race". I didn't have anyone I needed to beat. I didn't have to make any qualifying time. Sunday is about a intrapersonal challenge, not interpersonal. Then I was able to relax. Knowing myself, I'd even be able to work harder and smarter if I thought of it as part of a bigger picture.
Nutrition:
7pm - Race-Eve Dinner: Pasta with broccoli and chicken in light butter sauce, 4 bread rolls, lots of water
4am - Breakfast: Fiber-y cereal with milk
6am - Snack: I think I ate a mini Clif bar?
7am - Swim Start: Drank lots of water beforehand
8-11am Bike: 3-4 mini Clif bars, 1 packet Clif Shot Bloks, 2 bottles sports drink, 3 bottles water (some for spraying on my face)
11am-12pm Run: 30+ cups of water (some on face/body, some in my mouth), 1 Gu, 1/2 banana, 1 cup Gatorade, 1 cup flat Coke
The Race:
As the sun broke over the horizon behind the back of the shore, with my goggles half-filled with clean water there I stood next to about a hundred other black-rubberized young guys and Patrick cheering me on from the sidelines. The elite triathletes had started over an hour previous, and were likely 40minutes into their bike by the time our wave lined up for a 7:05am start. The front line dashed into the water with eagerness; I jogged in and eventually started swimming when I could no longer touch the ground easily. It took me a good 300 yards of breast stroke, crawl, and some backstroke to find my groove. The water was a very warm 70º for my sleeveless wetsuit, but at least it didn't taste too salty. The buoys seemed to be moving farther from my left than coming closer, but eventually I swam over enough waves to reach the turn around point. My shoulder had been injured the week prior, and was now only a slight burning sensation. Just keep breathing. I muscled the last 200 yards for what felt like 25 minutes as the beach just wouldn't get any closer. Then as I exited the water the loud speakers were playing my Bike & Build song. Perfect! (It ends up I finished the swim 10minutes sooner than my best expectations!)
I ran through the sand to the wetsuit strippers and let them do their thing. How convenient! I took my time putting on my shoes and making sure everything was set for the bike. I even stopped to let out a little water, apparently I was well hydrated. Good.
Since I'm a relatively slow swimmer and my age group was the last to enter the water, I spent the whole bike ride passing people. 3 guys passed me, 3. I played it smart and used the draft zone of other riders to help me slingshot past them, never resting in their zone for fear of a drafting call. The rest stations made me feel like a pro; while barely slowing down, I tossed my empty bottle on the ground and grabbed filled ones from outstretched hands. The weather was perfect, too. A very comfortable 77º with a good amount of shade. Green scenery, until the gnarly roads on the outskirts of Providence. Oh, I almost forgot to mention, after mile 14 I only used my big ring. My front derailler was cramping up and had trouble shifting to the big ring, so once I got it there, I stuck with it. So much for keeping cadence over 95 and so much for avoiding cross-chaining. Good thing I like standing when climbing hills. I was likely smiling for the bulk of the ride, I bet.
Then came the run. My shins were sore from mile 1. The course involved a .5 mile steep climb (and I know steep) then a couple miles out, turn around, and jam-your-toe-in-your-shoe down the hill. Then start lap #2. I decided to finish the race no matter the pain and to not entertain reconsidering my decision. I ended up running alongside some friendly people, here and there sharing a conversation or witty remarks that would give me the energy to keep my eyes open for more than a mile at a time. The first lap I jogged through the rest stations, splashing water into my mouth, but not really drinking much. This was a mistake. By mile 4 or so, I was walking through and took time to drink at least a cup, before dousing myself with several other cups. It was encouraging to see Patrick rooting for me from the sidelines, at several points. (Thanks for driving us down and supporting us!) By mile 8, I could tell I was .5 miles from a rest station because my body would be screaming at me to lie down and rest. On my return leg of the second lap, I heard a shout of encouragement from Kate as she ran out in the opposite direction. By mile 11, I was eating/drinking everything offered at rest stations, regardless of what my stomach might agree with: bananas, coke, gatorade, and water. (I will definitely work on better nutrition planning on the run for next time.) I was running on empty, with sore knees and burning desire to cross the finish line in one piece. For the last 30 yards, my eyes were open wide, arms outstretched, and legs pain-free.
I quickly found a shady area to lay down, had some gatorade handed to me and began recovery with a semi-nap. About a half hour later I started to feel pretty good about having finished. Someone on the run had said I was on pace for a 5:15 finish, but I never saw the clock when I crossed the line, and my time still doesn't register online. Either way, I beat the mental game. I relaxed before the race, conquered the panic on the swim, enjoyed the bike, and stayed determined to finish the run.
