Brian's Beachside Boogie

Well, this is alway a big race for me. I've won the race twice, raced against a lot of pretty good athletes for a small race, and it is usually a good early-season test of where I am.

Where I am ? That's an interesting thought. With a June marathon and a November Ironman, it's hard to decide where I am, or where I even should be, but with only 3 road races under my belt all season, where I was, in my opinion, was not in race shape. A lot of it was this weird winter. I have a good base but I would say the speed just isn't there. Speed comes from racing and I haven't been.

So I was looking forward to racing. And I wasn't.

I saw Charlie Hornak before the race and barely grunted a hello. I just was't feeling it. This was going to be a hard race. It was cold, overcast, windy.

The race started without a lot of fanfare, just a countdown from 10 and a horn.

The start of a duathlon can be the hardest part. The instinct to go out, to blow up that early part of the first run and establish yourself, is always there. The funny thing about that though is the more people go out hard, the less inclined I am to match it. If I have a chance to establish myself as the guy, or one of two or three guys, then I do it, but if ten guys are going to push it early, then I am not going to.

That's what happened. A lot of guys went out hard, and just settled in with a group of about ten people. I knew a lot of the guys in the mix, and two or three exploded into the front, including Mark Hixson. My goal was to just hang in fifth or sixth and wait for the bike to see where I really was. As we got around half a mile into the run, past the campground, I started to move up. There was one young kid who'd gone out hard and I'd expected to fade, however, after falling off slightly he recovered.

I hate that. Making an evaluation of someone that's wrong. But as Eric says 'all you can do is do all you can do'.

I felt better than I expected on the first run, although I was fighting back and forth with one guy to come in from the first run around that sixth spot. I came in and hopped on my bike and I was gone.

Early in the first loop I had to deal with two guys, one who had passed me (for shame, alan!) and one I was about to pass, fishtailing and nearly crashing into each other in the sand.

I was aggravated to have to slow down.

After that, there was no place changing out to Meigs Point. I caught sight of the people in front and behind me at the tear drop. I saw Charlie Hornak was standing in well and chasing.

I also saw a number of people with either aerobars or horns. That's something that people have learned from me. I was the first guy to stick aerobars on his bike and take it to Brians and now a lot of people do it and that's cool. It's an advantage and it's legal. I hauled as much as as I could from the Point to the woods, and then I started the hardest part of the race for me. I set the bike course up but I'm not a great mountain biker and I lost time in the woods. How much time ?

After emerging from the woods, Charlie passed me on the grassy backside of the course. Maybe this should have engendered some panic, but I always get caught by someone back there, and it's about discipline for me. Staying close (but not drafting) and waiting until I get back to the part of the bike that my strength is on (the road).

That's exactly what I did. Charlie led me back through transition but then I passed him on the harder sand. I thought I'd solved the issue, but the Charlie surprised me but he passed my after the point, really going for it, full out. At this point, my race was with Charlie, and I knew it. As long as he was in front of me, he was the only guy I could pass.

We headed into transition one behind the other and went of transition shoulder to shoulder. He said to me 'I don't expect to be able to hold on' or something like that and as a teammate I should have said something like 'Nah, you can do it, come on.'

But I didn't. At that point, we were competitors and we know each other.

Instead I put the hammer down, trying to set the fastest pace I could maintain. Now, I was chasing Mark Hixson. For the rest of the run, he was my focus, and at first, I thought maybe, maybe....

Nah. I'd closed the gap on the run but he crushed me on the second run.

I ran well, my second run felt like the best part of my race and I definitely did what I had to do. I was surprised to not fall apart that second run, after so little racing, however, I was also disappointed. Despite cutting 18 seconds off last year's time, I was just 6th, and a distant third in my age group.

Not a great performance, but I want to give props. Everyone who finished in the top ten had a really good race. It was fun, and it was a wake-up call for me.

I'm looking forward to what the rest of the season has in store...

Brian's Beachside Boogie

Usually, a race is just a race.

As an athlete, I'm not one of your big thinkers. I don't have a head full of times, or averages or what other people have done. I don't really spend a lot of time thinking about a race before it happens period.

However, after the stinkbomb I laid at the Shamrock race I was quite frankly worried. I was coming into this race as the defending champion and I was coming off a race that really made me question what I was capable of. Sure, it was just one bad race, but...

But a funny thing happened.

The race started.

Like all duathlons, the very beginning is kind of weird. Unlike a road race, where I start out towards the front and fall back as the race progresses, in a duathlon, people stream around me and then I work my way up. I was concerned when I fell back in the first few hundred yards that I was not going to close down and then, well, then I did. I starting moving uo and around and settled into a top ten spot around 9 or 8 and that was exactly where I wanted to be.

There was a guy in a Cyclonauts jersey. I passed him, settled in in front of him and he managed to accidentally kick my right foot out from under me. I didn't fall, but I was annoyed. Don Gustavason was somewhere around me, in front for a while and then behind, then in front again. The first run settled down pretty quickly though and I felt good.

I really felt like we weren't pushing the run that hard, which is how I like it. Usually the bike is my strong leg in this race, although the age of my bike- 13 years at least- its weight, and its deteriorating condition- had me concerned. Then again, I've won the race twice, including last year, on that bike, so how bad can it be ?

I hopped on the bike and quickly started moving up, from 7 to 6 to 5, to 4. But then I was passed by the guy in the cyclonauts jersey and I was back in fifth as we went towards Meigs Point on the sand and dirt.



When you get to Meigs Point though, the race hops onto the road and I get down on my aerobars and just go. I averaged about 23 mph on the road and passed both Don and the Cyclonaut, moving up into 3rd. I was feeling good, pushing myself hard, and thinking I had a chance to dial into third on the bike and try to hold that on the run.

Now, remember that I laid the course out. I got on the off-road section and my decision to go with toe clips and not a one and one hurt me. I was slow on the off-road section and soon found myself back in fifth, close on to the two guys in front of me- and then we went into the woods. I was holding my own and then I went around a turn and a branch reached out and grabbed my leg and it stopped moving and that was it.

I went head over handbars onto the dirt and as my head hit the ground I watched the 3rd and 4th place riders getting away. That was that. I climed back on the bike, took way too long getting up to speed, and hauled some ass.

I finished the first loop, started on the second, and I just couldn't close. All the way out to Meigs Point I was working hard and keeping my eyes open, but there was no one coming back to me. When I got back on the road I did make up some time, but not really enough. And then as I came out of the woods on the back of the course, Charlie Hornak caught me and said something about the wind.

I picked it up right then. I'd thought I was riding in 5th in the middle of nowhere. Having someone catch me briefly was just the kick in the ass I needed to redouble my effort.

Despite the crash I still posted a top 5 bike time, which I feel pretty good about, except for the crash and the four people that posted faster times.

I came in 5th, hopped off the bike, dropped and retrieved my Oakleys and headed out on the run.

I had not yet given up on moving up and I ran hard. Really hard. Of the top five finishers on the winner had less of a difference between their first and second run times. I was hauling ass truing to catch the 4th place guy and I did see him, just a couple hundred yards ahead with a little less than a mile left, but it was just too much.

I came across the line about 45 seconds slower and four places lower than last year but I'll take it for now. It was a big improvement over my last race, I lost to a guy who put up a great time- Karl Schilling- and two of the guys that beat me- Tim Cote and Don Gustavson, are guys I know that are great athletes and nice guys as well. I also want to mention that Charlie Hornak really has picked up his racing this season and I'm expecting a lot out of him.

This was not a great race for me and I'm not happy with how I did, but I'm not too disturbed either. It was a definite step-up and a real motivator. I raced- pretty well. There's room to improve- a lot- but it was a good hard effort and a reminder that no, I don't actually suck.

I just have to work a little harder...

Brian's Beachside Boogie- Pre-Race

First of all: If you get lost on the bike course, blame me. I laid it out Friday and reviewed it today. Remember, it's two loops.

It's going to be interesting to see how tomorrow goes. After laying such a rotten egg at the Shamrock and Roll 5K, I did pick my training up a notch. So possibly, we'll see some positives results from that. But really, I don't know. I think maybe I laid a little too low for two long with my training, especially my running, and while my bike fitness is good, overall I'm a little short.

But I had a good 27 miles on the mountain bike today. I'm ready to see what I can do, and most of all, have a little fun, assuming my feet don't completely freeze off tomorrow.

If you're racing- good luck.

Brian's Beachside Boogie

I'd run my warm-up with Charlie Hornak and I was in transition, listening to Snow Patrol and thinking about what Straz had written in his article for Eric's website (read it here) about the role genetics play in endurance and multisport. I'm the guy genetics left behind if you read that, and to an extent, I agree. I'm short, oddly stocky. I think I'm built for reading or maybe physical comedy. Then again, my body recovers from training well, which allows me to train a lot, so what's to complain about ? Since I'm not likely to grow tall or thin in the near future it's best to roll with it.

And mostly, when I'm not reading about sport, I don't think about it except at one time, and I think I've written about this before.

Standing in transition. Looking at all these people who look like athletes, it's intimidating. I'd marked four or five guys in my head that had the right build, the right gear, who'd looked skilled warming up. I had a pedal wrench in my hand. I was looking at these guys and they were scattered around in transition and the common theme was bike shoes, or cleated running shoes.

I'd discussed this with my coach Eric- he knows I prefer toe clips, and John Hirsch, who beat me last year and told me I'd lost time in the woods to him because I didn't have cleats.

So I'm looking at these guys. Tall, thin, genetically gifted looking athletes. With cleats. So I decided. I might be short, maybe a little stocky, but hey, I have an idea about the bike. What if I could combine the 360 degree efficiency of the cleat and bike shoe with the speed in transition and ability to control the bike in the woods with a quick foot down of the toe clips ?

I put the shimano pedal on the right crank. I put my bike shoe on and I tested it. I liked it.

We lined up and Ron Meneo started us off. I believe it was David Booth I was telling after the race about how I hate the start of a duathlon. We ran for the opening in the woods at the end of the short field and I looked over and there was Rafael Martinez next to me. Rafael is a great guy and a super athlete, but probably not someone who is going to run 2 miles under 12 minutes. There were 8 or 9 guys ahead of me as we broke through and this is where the panic tries to set in.

I should be trying to win this race after all. I'm not saying I am good enough to win, but that's what I should be shooting for, a win. We turned the corner and we were running hard into the wind- the hardest part of the run, out in the open, a 15-20 mile an hour wind in our face. I started moving up but there were two guys that clearly were pulling away. Eric had told me to stay up there in the first run, and I was, but I decided those two guys were probably going to get away by 20-30 seconds and that was going to have to be okay.

The first mile was not bad. Things settled down pretty quickly and there were about six or seven of us out in front. The two top guys had not really bolted yet. As we wound our way around the back of the run course, still running into the wind, I started to wonder if I was giving too much ground to those top two guys. But I didn't want to blow out my top gear by cooking the first run because I know that my only chance to win this race involves establishing myself on the bike, which is funny, sort of.

I was hoping I was splitting the difference between not destroying myself and not leaving more time than I could make up between transition and the ride out to Meigs Point.

I came off the first run 5th, with two guys right on me. The single shoe switch went really well and I was out on the bike and chasing.

I got passed- on the right, very early.

I've been either the fastest bike split or first off the bike 3-4 other times besides this year, so being passed was not good. It put a little extra something in my effort to get out to Meigs point. I wanted to get on the road and get into the wind.

That's right, I wanted to get into the wind. My whole goal in this race is to get to Meigs Point in contact with the lead group, then find a way to get out in front and just hammer that section.

Five of us went into the roundabout in pretty close order, but no one was drafting. Don Gustavson, who had a really great race and finished second, was the guy who'd passed me and he was working on getting into a dominant top three position during the bike. We came out of the teardrop and I started my passes. Before I knew it I was in front. I was down on my aerobars on my wife's mountain bike (yes, I'm still riding it), the fat knobs making all kinds of noise, but in a really aero position. I know I'm going to lose time in the woods, so I'm really focused on extending my advantage. But again, without over-extending myself.

I never looked back. I don't. It's a rule. I reached the end of the road section of the ride and got on the biggest hill on the course, a grass roller. My aerobar pads (old-school) are bouncing up and down, the springs long gone. The noise is unbelievable. I crest the hill and I'm still on grass but I'm back in aero position. Next thing I know I'm in real woods and as I get to the end of that, I have two guys bearing down on me, the second and third place guys, Don and Dave.

They pass me. I pass them back and try to use the lines of the course to seal them off behind me. They get by again and Dave starts pulling away although I pass Don again.

The second ride out to Meigs Point is tough. I have to really school myself. I'm behind, I'm not picking up any ground, I have a guy that is basically getting away and yet I know, when we hit the tear drop and then go into the wind, it's going to be me that has the advantage. So I don't push. I just wait.

I'm rewarded for that. I make the pass again with plenty of in the wind on the road riding left and now I'm in the lead on the second loop of the bike and this is what's important. I'm not trying to win the race. I'm trying to make the two guys behind me that seem like the main threat work so hard that when we get off the bikes, I can run, and they will be beat. That's my hope. So I'm going hard, but I'm not going all out- just race pace. I even drink some Heed.

This time the gap in the woods evaporates but only Dave catches me. We jockey a bit, I hold him off longer and use my lead to try and out position him in a pair of turns but in the end he passes me about a 1/4 mile from the transition (?) and gets in first. But I only have one shoe to change so I'm out of transition first.

I start running and a lot of the self-doubt and the worry, the franticness I felt at times when I was not controlling the bike on the back of the two-loops the way I'd like, all left. I had a good stride going and I knew that I'd hit the worst part of the run very early in the run and if I could get through that I would have a huge advantage. I turned the corner and I was running into that harsh wind, back towards the pavilion parking lot but on the road, the same road the turkey trot finishes on and I kept telling myself if I could just get to the right-hand turn, I have a really shot. If I can just get out of the wind.

I eat three cliff shot block pieces as soon as I get out of the wind. I start running on this course I know so well, through the grass, and as the yards click off, I know that I'm in the lead and it might just all be over soon.

I wasn't challenged on the second run. The sun was out, the day was beautiful, and I was running with a lead. Except for when Margit told me with half a mile to go that they were catching up, I was able to run hard- within about 10 seconds of my first run- and never feel any panic.

I crossed the finish line with no reaction, but after I took off my chip with no one looking I raised my fists and pumped them. I really wanted this win. Wanted it for five years since the last time I won.

Don and Dave both had great races and chances are that if Peter Daly's wife hadn't been called into work he'd have repeated as champion, not me. Jean, and Ron and Margit put on a great race that's a lot of fun and deserve a lot of credit for looking at the park and seeing a great duathlon course as well as raising money for a great cause- the Myelin Project.

I learned something too. I have to go back and work on the woods part of the course. I take it for granted that I'm going to lose time in there. But there's no good reason for that. i know the course, I have a bike I'm comfortable with. So that's my goal for next year. Ride that part of the course better.

Still, I'm happy. It was a sweet win, because it's a race I love.

Can't Follow My Own Advice ?

Just hours after adding a post to my blog in which I highlighted the importance of not being negative without a good reason on the internet, I registered for a race and I find myself pretty much unable to resist the urge.

I registered for the Shamrock Duathlon last night. Now I know that I was registering at the last minute- just hours before the registration on Active closed (four days before the race). I was taken aback by the 74.00 price tag- so taken aback I very nearly didn't register. 74.00 ? For a duathlon ? That's nearly 1/6 the cost of an Ironman. It would have been 76.00, because the cost of Active's fees were thoughtfully passed on to us, but I am an Active Advantage member...

I am going to bite my tongue/slap my hand and reduce this rant to specifically about this one race and not the general feeling of being repeatedly gouged by HMF. After agreeing to pay what I consider an excessive fee for the race, I was greeted with a message explaining that the race fees don't begin to cover the cost of putting on the race and asking me to donate more.

I was really, really unhappy.

The ironies here are multiple. First, I'm usually the one arguing that (specifically runners) complain too much about race fees. Second, I can think of at least one person- and maybe everyone reading this- saying 'Vote with your checkbook'. if it's too expensive, just stay away. Don't waste blog space on it.

The problem is, this isn't one of the 5-6 5ks that will be held this weekend. There are only a few duathlons in CT all year, and each year I find myself driving 3-5 hours just to get in a duathlon. Duathlons are like triathlons, minus all the stress and most of the getting my ass kicked by people. You can't shop around, and you can't, well, you almost can't punish the race because of the-whatever- of the people holding the race. I want there to be more duathlons, not fewer.

But at the same time, I have to be honest. This race is really overpriced. And if the race director is losing money charging 73.00 a head, then maybe HMF ought to pass the race off to someone else, move the location, do something. I'm sure HMF could explain how that fee is inadequate or barely adequate or whatever the case may be, charity and all that. I'm involved in a duathlon that donates money to charity and we don't have to charge anywhere near that much. I'm also on the board of a national championship road race that agonizes over every two dollar race fee increase and whose fees are, well, I said I would not go there...

So here's what I have to say- go do Marty Schiavone's You Can Du It Duathlon- 45.00 by May 26th. Register at: Hitekracing.com/duit. That's a shameless plug for Marty. But it's another 45.00 duathlon, like Brian's Beachside Boogie.

Sorry to go negative everyone. But 74.00 ? Ouch !

Brian's Beachside Boogie Post-Race

http://www.plattsys.com/results/res2008/brian08.htm

First, I want to thank everyone who puts on this race. Despite the fact that the weather never really fully cooperates, the race is a a nice, low-key way to start the season, and it's low-key because of all the all the people who do the hard work and make it possible for the rest of us to just show up and race.

The beginning of a duathlon, especially the season-opener, is a tough thing for me. The same thing happens every time and I swear it seems worse each race, but of course, that's my imagination. The start of a duathlon is about patience. If the beginning of the first run doesn't almost feel too easy, you might just be going too hard. But there seems to be a swarm at the start of the races now. Reflecting on this today, I've come to the conclusion that I'm not only getting older, I am actually, finally, getting smarter.

That's right, the fact that I'm not sitting off the heels of the faster runners in the pack until my ears start to ring is a good thing. But having fourteen or fifteen guys around you at the start of the race kind of gives me that same feeling I get at the start of a triathlon swim. I like then open water, and I like running in small groups. John Hirsch - read his great blog at: http://johnhirsch.org/ - brought some real talent to the race- he's a pro himself. Dom Gillen, an Xterra pro, was off the front with a guy in my age group blistering the rest of us , then there was John and one other runner, and me. Just like that it seemed, as we headed into the trees, the race started to shake out, the swarm was gone, and I could relax, almost even enjoy myself.

Although by a mile or so I was running really- really hard. After all, it's two miles. You can't take it easy, but you also are going hard at 90-95% and that feels hard, but in a good way. You could run harder- it's not that burning 5K pace that leaves you entirely depleted.

I came into transition in the 5 spot, which I'm usually satisfied with if I'm shooting for top three, which I was. I was hoping to hang with John.

The bike is an odd mix- sand out to Meigs Point, nice hard road to the back section, then mostly grass, a short wood, and more sand. Then you do it again and it really gets interesting because you're mixed in with first-loop riders. As John wrote his blog, we traded position in a futile chase of Dom. John is both strong and well-rounded and he's more patient than I am- I knew I had to bear down out on the bike. It was great having someone that good to feed off the effort of, and the two loops went by a lot more quickly than I expected they would. I hardly noticed the wind or the cold. We stormed back into transition with a decent lead over the fourth-place guy, who was nevertheless moving up through the field and having a great bike.

John and I were shoulder to shoulder for the first mile, but then I got to watch a natural athlete open a gap. I kept pushing, but John ran an awesome last mile, never let up, and was there in the chute to say a bunch of nice stuff to me I probably didn't deserve.

It's always a great day when you race, and this is a race I really love...

Brian's Beachside Boogie

Well, the first real race of the season is tomorrow. After spending about two and a half hours prepping parts of the bike course, my legs are a lot more tired than I'd like, but I'm generally ready to race. The field is supposed to be be brutally tough this year, but I'm planning to go out and give it my best, get psyched for duathlon season, and then in May just start living off my base until Lake Placid.

For those of you who know the course, quick note: in the back section of the woods, the corkscrew turn has been eliminated for this year only to avoid a tree. You'll go down a very short decline and then have to hump up over a little hill, so use an easy gear in the woods...

Good luck to everyone tomorrow.