Sea Legs has over the years has become a regular on my race schedule. The race falls a week after Ironman lake placid and the day after Block island triathlon, which John Hirsch won yesterday, and I decided to skip. The trip to Lake Placid took too much out of everyone- and as much as I enjoy watching John eviscerate the field at BI, it would have never worked.
This race has been a state championship the last two years, which brings out the best runners in the state. As a former winner of the race, I knew well that I would not be competing for a top spot, however, I would be scoring for my team in the open and masters category so I needed a good effort.
The race starts out with a long flat run up Seaside Avenue, then hooks a left and shortly after that you are climbing a serious short uphill on a bridge. I wanted to go out hard for the first mile- sub-six. Six guys quickly formed a lead pack and I was alone as the chase group. I knew I was running harder than I would be in later miles, but if I could moderate my effort after one mile, I'd be fine.
Halfway up the hill there's a right hand side-street. I saw a green SUV. The woman looked at me, decided she had time to pull out, and then pulled onto the road, only to see the six guys in front of me blocking the road. There was room for her to go around, but she instead decided that she would back up into the side street. She'd forgotten all about me and started a viscous fast left hook turn. I dodged her- I had room to get around, but I was pretty aggravated and delivered a very robust 'WTF ?'.
When Jim Zoldy passed me, he quipped 'I'm pretty sure that car will make the blog' and of course, he's right. Great race by the way, Jim. Twelfth overall and a very solid 1:01.
Chris Schulten, Jim, and several other people I expected to pass me were out in front of me by mile two, and that's the flattest part of the race, pretty much until two and half miles, it's board flat. I'd dialed down a notch and settled in, but the two mile time I'd gotten- well over 12:00 minutes- seemed kind of wrong. I'd done 5:50 for the first mile.
When I hit the three mile mark I was already a full minute off 6 minute mile pace, and starting a set of rollers. This is where I'd attacked last year, and it had been way too early and I'd paid a price later on. So I held back, even when the bulk of the EKG team went by me in a pack. I wanted to push and hang with them, but it was definitely the wrong thing to do.
There was nothing big going on after that for a while. Chris was closing in on two younger runners and I was watching him. He wasn't really pulling away from me, and as these other two runners came back to me, I really had to fight the urge to run them down, because the biggest hill on the course is in mile four on Old Sachem's Head. I took it about 90% up the hill, passing one of the guys, then caught the other one on a roller about a half mile later.
There was one other runner between Chris and I. I was very slowly losing ground to him. As we came around Vineyard Point Road, they were drawing even and ran together for a while, then as we started climbing again, they still had about 15 seconds on me. I did not want to push these uphills. My plan was to attack any short downhills, but hold my pace until at least eight miles, instead of overcooking the course like I'd done last year.
It was beastly humid. I was taking water at every stop and pouring it on my head or chest and that was helping to keep more core temperature where I wanted it.
We went through eight miles and I was still about 12 or 13 seconds behind Chris. Sometimes I would pick up a second or two or lose it. He was stopping to drink water at the aid stations, pausing for just 2-3 seconds, then running with a better pace afterwards, so it evened out. I was still trying to catch him as we hooked a right onto Old Whitfield and worked our way around High Street until we were back on Whitfield again.
I knew my only chance to catch anyone was to catch Chris and that I would have to take him on the hill on the bridge (it's an uphill in each direction, like a big upside-down U).
It didn't happen.
We picked it up down the other side and raced to Seaside Avenue, both of us running a little harder. I could hear Julie yelling encouragement to runners as we hit the corner and I ran it in. Unfortunately I couldn't see the clock until it said 1:03:57, too late to surge and break 1:04.
I ran a 1:04:02. I joked with Chris that we'd run 57s on the course, so they must have added a mile someone. We ran a warm down together. Chris is such a nice guy as well as a real competitor and it was really great for me to be able to have him to chase the whole race as it kept me focused on staying steady.
Also, a big shout out to the Terwilligers and Marty Schaivone. Maureen ran a great race then hosted us for a post-race pool (and trampoline) party with Marty's help. Thanks guys.
On the minus side, I was 21st overall and 6th in my age group. On the plus side, it was a state championship, so 6th in my age group is bad, but not that bad. It's better than 28th and 7th in my age group, which was what happened at the State Championship 5k. Not the sort of numbers I'm used to at road races...
As a training run to get read for a September half-ironman ? Pretty good.
Showing posts with label john hirsch. Show all posts
Showing posts with label john hirsch. Show all posts
Sunday, August 02, 2009
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Nutmegman Half-Ironman, Part III
I put two pairs of running shoes out in transition. I always want to have two choices in any long race- a pair of racing shoes and a pair of lightweight trainers.
But you have to make up your mind what to wear on the bike. You can't get off your bike and not know what shoes you are taking with you. Same thing with food. I had plenty of blocks and gels and I'd decided that as much as I like the cliff shot blocks, they just aren't right on the run. I had a gel right away.
John was talking us all up in transition. He made what as far as I know was his only mistake on the mike. He was giving me running props, saying I would move up, and then called me a 'world-class' athlete. Clearly he meant 'fifth-guy-on-a-small-school-cross-country-team' class athlete. But he gave me an idea of what was on the table in front of me, and so I headed out, with a plan.
This plan was to attack the downhills and really manage the uphills but stay conservative on them- that's something for another blog post.
As I headed out I noticed that there was a guy in a red skin suit (or I think it was a skin suit) getting ready to exit transition. I also saw the first woman running her bike into transition. I knew she was a pro, or at least that there was a pro there, and I'm an average enough triathlete to know that if I can beat any pro, man or woman, I've had a good day. So I had people in front of me, people behind me, and that's a good way to exit transition.
Unlike the bike, the run sends you only about halfway up the hill out of the park and then you hook a right downhill to the lower campsites. As I was heading out on this out and back I was watching the people coming the other way, including a woman who had a good lead on me. What ? That didn't make any sense. I'd passed all the women out on the bike course...
I ran steady down the hill, but tried to moderate my effort. I almost felt like I was going too hard. I so didn't want to blow up on this run. I get some positive feedback about my running and it is a perceived strength, however, in a long race, I'm just like everyone else. If I'm going to have a rough patch or a meltdown, it will be on the run. the sun was out now, it was getting warm, and I had a plan. I had to stick to it.
I went around the cone and started back up, having run a mile. I had an athlete close ahead in front of me. But I was discouraged to see that the guy in red and the woman both had held their position relative to me. Having run a whole mile, that was not what I wanted. But I concentrated on making the catch and did that quickly. Then I climbed up out of the park, enjoyed the brief downhill, and then started climbing again.
This second climb was harder than the one leaving the park. George's Hill Road. I didn't seem to be making great progress catching the runner in front of me, and then the lead bicycle-leading the first runner- came through. Wow- that about a half hour deficit...
I passed the relay woman somewhere in all this but the long climb up Georges Hill on the first loop was the hardest part of the race. I was sure the people behind me were crawling up my back, not that I would look. I was tiring.
And then it was over- a quick right hand turn, a dip and then a little more climbing but very moderate. I hit the three mile sign and took one of my gels. The plan was one every three miles. And I started to feel a lot better. I got to a downhill section and really started to work, made a couple more passes before the turn around, and took plenty of water. One of the volunteers had said 'You have a nice long downhill to recover' as I'd headed down Jackson Cove.
What she didn't say was what the climb back out would be like. It was another out and back and I really didn't feel like I'd opened anything up on guy in red or woman pro. But I kept it moderate all the way back to Georges Hill and then opened up on the downhill. Everyone going out was great- lots of encouragement as I passed people and I tied to do the same. When I got back to the entrance to the park I took another gel. My stomach didn't really like the gel, but I knew it would be important to overcome that on the second loop.
I rounded the cone and headed back out. I ran that first mile again and got a look at the guy in red and the woman pro. I'd open a small- small- additional gap. But that gave me a lot of confidence. I wasn't just holding them off, I was starting to separate from them.
By the time I got out on the climb up Georges Hill I had another athlete in my sights, although he was still a ways off. I was also passing first loop runners.
At 9 miles, I went for a gel, but didn't have any, so I took one from a volunteer. Banana-strawberry ? Oh well.
I made the pass before the turn-around at Jackson Cove and was told I was in the fourth by Mike Baker, who I'd passed. That was nice of him to let me know where I was and said I was looking good and he wished he had my legs. We traded conversation a little and before I know t, I was at the turn-around. I encouraged all the volunteers to just throw water on me and they did such a good job of it that I was almost too wet and I felt a little heavy climbing up and out- it's basically all climbing back to Georges Hill Road.
This time, I could see that I'd opened up a bigger gap on the people chasing me and that gave me a big lift. I started digging for more- the guy in third was out there in front of me.
I ran hard to the entrance to the park. And then I flew through that last mile. It was some of the best long course running I've done- I really felt good and ending with a mile downhill is awesome.
I didn't catch that last guy, but I made t pretty close: http://www.plattsys.com/results/res2008/nutiron.htm by cutting his lead from 14 minutes to two. Of course, the top two guys crushed me.
I came into the finishers chute, John said some outrageously nice things and I bellowed that I wanted some NIN. He delivered a ten-pack. If there had been beer during the massage, I'd have given the race an 11 out of ten. I even finished early enough to sit down and talk to the really good guys that finished this awesomely tough course under 4:40...
It also can't be overstated that this race is probably one of the most environmentally friendly races I have ever seen, and that is a big deal !
I learned a few things:
1) Not to undervalue what running skills I have. I had a good bike, but it was the run where I did all the damage and got back into the race (more or less).
2) Confidence feeds itself as the race goes on. Staying patient early and making consistent gains had me relaxed in the second loop of the run and I really ran well because I felt good about how the race was going.
3) Gu and blocks DO mix, just as long as you use them in separate legs. I think I have my Florida plan...
But you have to make up your mind what to wear on the bike. You can't get off your bike and not know what shoes you are taking with you. Same thing with food. I had plenty of blocks and gels and I'd decided that as much as I like the cliff shot blocks, they just aren't right on the run. I had a gel right away.
John was talking us all up in transition. He made what as far as I know was his only mistake on the mike. He was giving me running props, saying I would move up, and then called me a 'world-class' athlete. Clearly he meant 'fifth-guy-on-a-small-school-cross-country-team' class athlete. But he gave me an idea of what was on the table in front of me, and so I headed out, with a plan.
This plan was to attack the downhills and really manage the uphills but stay conservative on them- that's something for another blog post.
As I headed out I noticed that there was a guy in a red skin suit (or I think it was a skin suit) getting ready to exit transition. I also saw the first woman running her bike into transition. I knew she was a pro, or at least that there was a pro there, and I'm an average enough triathlete to know that if I can beat any pro, man or woman, I've had a good day. So I had people in front of me, people behind me, and that's a good way to exit transition.
Unlike the bike, the run sends you only about halfway up the hill out of the park and then you hook a right downhill to the lower campsites. As I was heading out on this out and back I was watching the people coming the other way, including a woman who had a good lead on me. What ? That didn't make any sense. I'd passed all the women out on the bike course...
I ran steady down the hill, but tried to moderate my effort. I almost felt like I was going too hard. I so didn't want to blow up on this run. I get some positive feedback about my running and it is a perceived strength, however, in a long race, I'm just like everyone else. If I'm going to have a rough patch or a meltdown, it will be on the run. the sun was out now, it was getting warm, and I had a plan. I had to stick to it.
I went around the cone and started back up, having run a mile. I had an athlete close ahead in front of me. But I was discouraged to see that the guy in red and the woman both had held their position relative to me. Having run a whole mile, that was not what I wanted. But I concentrated on making the catch and did that quickly. Then I climbed up out of the park, enjoyed the brief downhill, and then started climbing again.
This second climb was harder than the one leaving the park. George's Hill Road. I didn't seem to be making great progress catching the runner in front of me, and then the lead bicycle-leading the first runner- came through. Wow- that about a half hour deficit...
I passed the relay woman somewhere in all this but the long climb up Georges Hill on the first loop was the hardest part of the race. I was sure the people behind me were crawling up my back, not that I would look. I was tiring.
And then it was over- a quick right hand turn, a dip and then a little more climbing but very moderate. I hit the three mile sign and took one of my gels. The plan was one every three miles. And I started to feel a lot better. I got to a downhill section and really started to work, made a couple more passes before the turn around, and took plenty of water. One of the volunteers had said 'You have a nice long downhill to recover' as I'd headed down Jackson Cove.
What she didn't say was what the climb back out would be like. It was another out and back and I really didn't feel like I'd opened anything up on guy in red or woman pro. But I kept it moderate all the way back to Georges Hill and then opened up on the downhill. Everyone going out was great- lots of encouragement as I passed people and I tied to do the same. When I got back to the entrance to the park I took another gel. My stomach didn't really like the gel, but I knew it would be important to overcome that on the second loop.
I rounded the cone and headed back out. I ran that first mile again and got a look at the guy in red and the woman pro. I'd open a small- small- additional gap. But that gave me a lot of confidence. I wasn't just holding them off, I was starting to separate from them.
By the time I got out on the climb up Georges Hill I had another athlete in my sights, although he was still a ways off. I was also passing first loop runners.
At 9 miles, I went for a gel, but didn't have any, so I took one from a volunteer. Banana-strawberry ? Oh well.
I made the pass before the turn-around at Jackson Cove and was told I was in the fourth by Mike Baker, who I'd passed. That was nice of him to let me know where I was and said I was looking good and he wished he had my legs. We traded conversation a little and before I know t, I was at the turn-around. I encouraged all the volunteers to just throw water on me and they did such a good job of it that I was almost too wet and I felt a little heavy climbing up and out- it's basically all climbing back to Georges Hill Road.
This time, I could see that I'd opened up a bigger gap on the people chasing me and that gave me a big lift. I started digging for more- the guy in third was out there in front of me.
I ran hard to the entrance to the park. And then I flew through that last mile. It was some of the best long course running I've done- I really felt good and ending with a mile downhill is awesome.
I didn't catch that last guy, but I made t pretty close: http://www.plattsys.com/results/res2008/nutiron.htm by cutting his lead from 14 minutes to two. Of course, the top two guys crushed me.
I came into the finishers chute, John said some outrageously nice things and I bellowed that I wanted some NIN. He delivered a ten-pack. If there had been beer during the massage, I'd have given the race an 11 out of ten. I even finished early enough to sit down and talk to the really good guys that finished this awesomely tough course under 4:40...
It also can't be overstated that this race is probably one of the most environmentally friendly races I have ever seen, and that is a big deal !
I learned a few things:
1) Not to undervalue what running skills I have. I had a good bike, but it was the run where I did all the damage and got back into the race (more or less).
2) Confidence feeds itself as the race goes on. Staying patient early and making consistent gains had me relaxed in the second loop of the run and I really ran well because I felt good about how the race was going.
3) Gu and blocks DO mix, just as long as you use them in separate legs. I think I have my Florida plan...
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Nutmegman Half-Ironman, Part II
Any questions about what this bike course would be like were answered in the first mile. The climb out of the park was just that. A climb. As Mandy had warned, there was a downhill and a sharp turn. Then you started climbing again.
Or rather, I started climbing again. Since this is my only actual skill on a bicycle, this is a good thing. The bad thing was that the cable for my rear derailleur is so badly stretched out that there's just no way that I can get into the low gear, or get into it without risking throwing the chain. So I put it in 21 and started climbing. I wanted to save big ring 23 for the really bad climbs and also while I've never snapped a chain- I'm no Eric Hodska- I have blown up more than one rear derailleur on a training ride.
I was breathing hard. While I'd had a great swim for me, I was still tired, and not only that, my left ear was plugged shut and no amount of banging on my helmet could fix it. It would stay plugged for about 25 miles, kind of affecting my balance.
Margit's lead was not insurmountable. I caught her about 7 or 8 miles in. On one hand it always makes me feel good to catch her because she's such an awesome swimmer and no slouch on the bike. But at the same time, I feel bad. That's probably not a big lift for her for me to pass her.
I ate some blocks, drank some Gatorade and worked my way by people, then got out to 188. I started what is really a kind of stair-step set of climbs, up, up, and up. This was some hard work, with no access to the small front ring. And I have an oversized big ring.
I saw the first cyclist, the race leader, headed downhill, in the aero blazing along as I climbed at 10 mph. Then I saw another. I started counting. At eight, I stopped counted and I made a decision. I decided that I really would be patient today, that I would keep it in my head that this bike loop would have to be ridden three times and I didn't need to get where I wanted to be- top 3- on the first lap. Or the second.
Still, I was moving up pretty well, and then I hit that damn hill Mandy said was a 2-6 minute climb. I went to big ring 23 and stood halfway up and stamped up the hill using my Thomas Voekler impression- yes, it's ugly. I passed a CT Heat athlete and he said 'That's not fair.' He caught me again on the next downhill and I let him get 5 bike lengths and then got back to work. He was a little heavier than me, so he had good momentum on the downhills but never really opened a gap. There were four or five people in a clump at the end of the 188 section and I set my sights on them.
We turned onto Hull Hill's road. He started making his passes as did I, but the gap between us vanished and I decided I was going to have to pick it up a notch and get out in front, which I did.
The first loop of a multi-loop course is the best one in some ways because you know what you are doing. Once you get on that second loop, things start to get a little confusing. After this group that I'd passed, the number of people in front of me was small enough that there was no regular pattern of catch and pass.
There was also no chance to establish a smooth rhythm on the course. It continued to either go uphill or downhill, and not little gradient changes either.
The second loop of the course cut out the climb out of the park, and actually basically began with some nice downhill, but twisty so you had to be reasonably careful- followed by a 90 degree left-hand turn and you guessed it, more climbing. This climbing was a fairly short section followed by one of the more twisty downhills. On this second loop, I noticed that when we descended, everyone was looking back a lot. Worried about the people coming up behind them ? I guess it might have been about safety...
Although there wasn't a ton of people in the race you never really felt alone and you never went that long without seeing your fellow athletes. I went by one who I'd been closing on- he'd parked the bike and ducked (just barely) off the road to urinate. I'd found a flat/downhill section on the first loop to do that while riding. I never saw him again.
Back out on 188, I was starting to tire of the big-ring climbs...
As I went up the last climb going out, I passed the one of the top two women. I needed a second to collect myself and she decided to pass me back, which really annoyed me. Mostly because I knew once we finished peaking, that I was going to be going by her again on the downhill in about ten seconds, and I would have to do it with auto traffic on my back- there were two cars halfway up the hill and closing fast. With cars and bikes on the other side of the road, there was a potential for the pass to be dicey, but at the speed I'd be going it would be pass or crash (or brake).
That's exactly what happened. I blew by her on the downhill just as a car went by, but oh well, that's what you get for trying to manage everything in your head instead of just going with the flow of the moment.
I hit the turn-around and had already dropped her. I got halfway up that big climb again and decided I had to try and get into the small ring. My legs weren't burning or anything. I just was not climbing efficiently. I eased the lever down, gave a gentle down stroke with my left foot and it went into the small ring.
I got to the top of the hill and considered just leaving it there in the small ring, but of course that was a ridiculous idea. I had to go back to the big ring, and then was able to get back to the small ring on the next hill. After that, I stayed in the big ring until the third loop.
I felt like I was starting to get some rhythm as I hit Hull's Hill road again. My speed was still averaging below 20 MPH I think, but then again, I'll never know....
I started the third loop chasing a guy that was about 200 yards ahead of me. I knew now anyone I caught I was going to have to put time into because I was starting to overtake people that might be competitive on the run. However, I was also lapping people (that had started late in the second lap) and that always makes for a confusing journey. I did get past him finally and we both passed a third person- I had to work on the downhills because he was definitely riding aggressively on Bower and Oneill. I turned back onto 188 and started climbing. When I got to the first real hill, I popped my chain into the small ring, excited about having the option.
It came off instead of shifting down. I tried reseating it by shifting up but it wasn't having it so I hoped off. I got passed by the guy I'd just passed. He asked if I needed help, I said no and grabbed the chain with my right hand and reseated it on the big ring. Normally I try to use a finger, but in a race- my whole hand was covered in grease, which I wiped on my shorts.
I passed the guy again on the next hill and built a small lead into the turn-around. Taller, leaner, he looked like he'd give me a run for my money on the downhills- I mean, he looked like a cyclist/triathlete after all. So I decided that I had to get into the small ring on the biggest hill- halfway up I did, and it was the last hill I climbed in the small ring in the race. Then I really absolutely bombed down all those hills on 188 like someone was chasing me to do violence.
After I turned onto Hull Hill that last time, I ate some food, drank some gatorade and what do you know ? I caught some people. I thought maybe they were second lap people, so after I got a small gap, I got up as much momentum as I could and peed. I immediately got passed back. One of the guys, in yellow, had a 41 on his calf. We started climbing the last hill before Maple Tree Round and something big and black went by me just as I was about to pass this guy.
I looked down. My brand new computer was gone. I looked at that 41 and decided to keep climbing. Turned out he was on his third lap.
I never really gapped the guy and as we got onto Georges he was pushing me. The road down was rough and there was that sharp turn, so I let him by and concentrated on staying back and giving him room.
He beat me into transition, and I beat him out.
Next: The run
Or rather, I started climbing again. Since this is my only actual skill on a bicycle, this is a good thing. The bad thing was that the cable for my rear derailleur is so badly stretched out that there's just no way that I can get into the low gear, or get into it without risking throwing the chain. So I put it in 21 and started climbing. I wanted to save big ring 23 for the really bad climbs and also while I've never snapped a chain- I'm no Eric Hodska- I have blown up more than one rear derailleur on a training ride.
I was breathing hard. While I'd had a great swim for me, I was still tired, and not only that, my left ear was plugged shut and no amount of banging on my helmet could fix it. It would stay plugged for about 25 miles, kind of affecting my balance.
Margit's lead was not insurmountable. I caught her about 7 or 8 miles in. On one hand it always makes me feel good to catch her because she's such an awesome swimmer and no slouch on the bike. But at the same time, I feel bad. That's probably not a big lift for her for me to pass her.
I ate some blocks, drank some Gatorade and worked my way by people, then got out to 188. I started what is really a kind of stair-step set of climbs, up, up, and up. This was some hard work, with no access to the small front ring. And I have an oversized big ring.
I saw the first cyclist, the race leader, headed downhill, in the aero blazing along as I climbed at 10 mph. Then I saw another. I started counting. At eight, I stopped counted and I made a decision. I decided that I really would be patient today, that I would keep it in my head that this bike loop would have to be ridden three times and I didn't need to get where I wanted to be- top 3- on the first lap. Or the second.
Still, I was moving up pretty well, and then I hit that damn hill Mandy said was a 2-6 minute climb. I went to big ring 23 and stood halfway up and stamped up the hill using my Thomas Voekler impression- yes, it's ugly. I passed a CT Heat athlete and he said 'That's not fair.' He caught me again on the next downhill and I let him get 5 bike lengths and then got back to work. He was a little heavier than me, so he had good momentum on the downhills but never really opened a gap. There were four or five people in a clump at the end of the 188 section and I set my sights on them.
We turned onto Hull Hill's road. He started making his passes as did I, but the gap between us vanished and I decided I was going to have to pick it up a notch and get out in front, which I did.
The first loop of a multi-loop course is the best one in some ways because you know what you are doing. Once you get on that second loop, things start to get a little confusing. After this group that I'd passed, the number of people in front of me was small enough that there was no regular pattern of catch and pass.
There was also no chance to establish a smooth rhythm on the course. It continued to either go uphill or downhill, and not little gradient changes either.
The second loop of the course cut out the climb out of the park, and actually basically began with some nice downhill, but twisty so you had to be reasonably careful- followed by a 90 degree left-hand turn and you guessed it, more climbing. This climbing was a fairly short section followed by one of the more twisty downhills. On this second loop, I noticed that when we descended, everyone was looking back a lot. Worried about the people coming up behind them ? I guess it might have been about safety...
Although there wasn't a ton of people in the race you never really felt alone and you never went that long without seeing your fellow athletes. I went by one who I'd been closing on- he'd parked the bike and ducked (just barely) off the road to urinate. I'd found a flat/downhill section on the first loop to do that while riding. I never saw him again.
Back out on 188, I was starting to tire of the big-ring climbs...
As I went up the last climb going out, I passed the one of the top two women. I needed a second to collect myself and she decided to pass me back, which really annoyed me. Mostly because I knew once we finished peaking, that I was going to be going by her again on the downhill in about ten seconds, and I would have to do it with auto traffic on my back- there were two cars halfway up the hill and closing fast. With cars and bikes on the other side of the road, there was a potential for the pass to be dicey, but at the speed I'd be going it would be pass or crash (or brake).
That's exactly what happened. I blew by her on the downhill just as a car went by, but oh well, that's what you get for trying to manage everything in your head instead of just going with the flow of the moment.
I hit the turn-around and had already dropped her. I got halfway up that big climb again and decided I had to try and get into the small ring. My legs weren't burning or anything. I just was not climbing efficiently. I eased the lever down, gave a gentle down stroke with my left foot and it went into the small ring.
I got to the top of the hill and considered just leaving it there in the small ring, but of course that was a ridiculous idea. I had to go back to the big ring, and then was able to get back to the small ring on the next hill. After that, I stayed in the big ring until the third loop.
I felt like I was starting to get some rhythm as I hit Hull's Hill road again. My speed was still averaging below 20 MPH I think, but then again, I'll never know....
I started the third loop chasing a guy that was about 200 yards ahead of me. I knew now anyone I caught I was going to have to put time into because I was starting to overtake people that might be competitive on the run. However, I was also lapping people (that had started late in the second lap) and that always makes for a confusing journey. I did get past him finally and we both passed a third person- I had to work on the downhills because he was definitely riding aggressively on Bower and Oneill. I turned back onto 188 and started climbing. When I got to the first real hill, I popped my chain into the small ring, excited about having the option.
It came off instead of shifting down. I tried reseating it by shifting up but it wasn't having it so I hoped off. I got passed by the guy I'd just passed. He asked if I needed help, I said no and grabbed the chain with my right hand and reseated it on the big ring. Normally I try to use a finger, but in a race- my whole hand was covered in grease, which I wiped on my shorts.
I passed the guy again on the next hill and built a small lead into the turn-around. Taller, leaner, he looked like he'd give me a run for my money on the downhills- I mean, he looked like a cyclist/triathlete after all. So I decided that I had to get into the small ring on the biggest hill- halfway up I did, and it was the last hill I climbed in the small ring in the race. Then I really absolutely bombed down all those hills on 188 like someone was chasing me to do violence.
After I turned onto Hull Hill that last time, I ate some food, drank some gatorade and what do you know ? I caught some people. I thought maybe they were second lap people, so after I got a small gap, I got up as much momentum as I could and peed. I immediately got passed back. One of the guys, in yellow, had a 41 on his calf. We started climbing the last hill before Maple Tree Round and something big and black went by me just as I was about to pass this guy.
I looked down. My brand new computer was gone. I looked at that 41 and decided to keep climbing. Turned out he was on his third lap.
I never really gapped the guy and as we got onto Georges he was pushing me. The road down was rough and there was that sharp turn, so I let him by and concentrated on staying back and giving him room.
He beat me into transition, and I beat him out.
Next: The run
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Nutmegman Half-Ironman, Part I
Sometimes, an A race sneaks up behind you and hits you over the head when you aren't expecting it.
Once again, I want to preface this by saying that this race was really well run. I've been to races 10 time this size that were half as well run. The venue was very well thought out- parking was close to transition, there was a real bathroom, the whole area showed a lot of forethought in the setup. While the crowd that showed up to race was game, I hope that next year there's a bigger turn-out.
I got almost no sleep the night before the race. Could have been anywhere between 15 minutes and two hours, but it was pretty weak. I was dreaming at five am when Margit woke me up- that I was in NYC trying to find someone without a cell phone. This dream, by the way, sucks.
I got up and immediately nearly choked to death on a whole wheat mini-bagel. I didn't know they made whole wheat mini bagels, and I had even less of an idea how freaking dry they are, or how bad an idea it might be to try and gaffle one down after being awake for thirty seconds. I sent one of my host's bananas after down after it and started thinking about how that all would taste coming back at me in the water.
Still, it was great of Helena and Chuck to host us and it's pretty rude for me to complain about their food- but completely right to point out my own stupidity.
The pre-race was pretty laid back. The mist was laying pretty hard on the water and when Mandy announced the half-hour delay there was no bitching and moaning from the assembled athletes. That was good, because as much as a shortened swim is usually good for me, that would have sucked for the race. Margit and I spent some time talking to John about how they'd had to pull the weeds from the first 100 yards of the swim.
Then, it was time to start. That was pretty laid back. The men started off, and we had a fairly good sight line to the first green bouys. There was some jostling early but I just put my head down. So many races the swim starts and there are bodies everywhere and I feel like if I put my head down, someone will kick me, there's no water to catch, and all that. So I put my head down, I started swimming, and wow, that works. You can catch water even when everyone around you is beating the hell out of it. I know anyone who is a swimmer already knows that.
Once we got to the inner markers, it was a little crazy out to the outer markers. There was a boat with police rack lights on it and you couldn't even see that at first. I could also smell the bacteria in the lake- by 9 that night my nose was running faster than I had.
At the turn, I was farther over to the right than anyone around me and one of my competitors yelled 'Hey Buddy, over here.'
Thanks- I had just caught sight of the buoy and the encouragement was welcome.
There were two buoys at the far end of the course and yes, the women who started two minutes behind me where already swimming over me.
I swam back in with a lot more confidence and did my best to get in line with other swimmers and not be so far off to the right it was crazy, with mixed results. I finally climbed out of the water, ran along the beach, and then jumped back in.
Second loop, same as the first. I really felt like I had a good swim, although I have a feeling the course was short. I'd be amazed if I could swim a 1:07:58 in an IRonman, but I'll take a sub-34 half-iron swim, that's for sure.
Transition was slow. Too slow. I decided on a cycling jersey, but putting an unzipped jersey on in transition is not as easy as in my closet. I tried gloves but gave that up as too complicated, then stuffed each pocket of the jersey with one type of item- blocks, gels, and endurolytes. The whole time, John Hirsch, doing great work as MC, was telling me about how big and getting bigger Margit's lead was, suggesting at one point it might be insurmountable.
Once again, I want to preface this by saying that this race was really well run. I've been to races 10 time this size that were half as well run. The venue was very well thought out- parking was close to transition, there was a real bathroom, the whole area showed a lot of forethought in the setup. While the crowd that showed up to race was game, I hope that next year there's a bigger turn-out.
I got almost no sleep the night before the race. Could have been anywhere between 15 minutes and two hours, but it was pretty weak. I was dreaming at five am when Margit woke me up- that I was in NYC trying to find someone without a cell phone. This dream, by the way, sucks.
I got up and immediately nearly choked to death on a whole wheat mini-bagel. I didn't know they made whole wheat mini bagels, and I had even less of an idea how freaking dry they are, or how bad an idea it might be to try and gaffle one down after being awake for thirty seconds. I sent one of my host's bananas after down after it and started thinking about how that all would taste coming back at me in the water.
Still, it was great of Helena and Chuck to host us and it's pretty rude for me to complain about their food- but completely right to point out my own stupidity.
The pre-race was pretty laid back. The mist was laying pretty hard on the water and when Mandy announced the half-hour delay there was no bitching and moaning from the assembled athletes. That was good, because as much as a shortened swim is usually good for me, that would have sucked for the race. Margit and I spent some time talking to John about how they'd had to pull the weeds from the first 100 yards of the swim.
Then, it was time to start. That was pretty laid back. The men started off, and we had a fairly good sight line to the first green bouys. There was some jostling early but I just put my head down. So many races the swim starts and there are bodies everywhere and I feel like if I put my head down, someone will kick me, there's no water to catch, and all that. So I put my head down, I started swimming, and wow, that works. You can catch water even when everyone around you is beating the hell out of it. I know anyone who is a swimmer already knows that.
Once we got to the inner markers, it was a little crazy out to the outer markers. There was a boat with police rack lights on it and you couldn't even see that at first. I could also smell the bacteria in the lake- by 9 that night my nose was running faster than I had.
At the turn, I was farther over to the right than anyone around me and one of my competitors yelled 'Hey Buddy, over here.'
Thanks- I had just caught sight of the buoy and the encouragement was welcome.
There were two buoys at the far end of the course and yes, the women who started two minutes behind me where already swimming over me.
I swam back in with a lot more confidence and did my best to get in line with other swimmers and not be so far off to the right it was crazy, with mixed results. I finally climbed out of the water, ran along the beach, and then jumped back in.
Second loop, same as the first. I really felt like I had a good swim, although I have a feeling the course was short. I'd be amazed if I could swim a 1:07:58 in an IRonman, but I'll take a sub-34 half-iron swim, that's for sure.
Transition was slow. Too slow. I decided on a cycling jersey, but putting an unzipped jersey on in transition is not as easy as in my closet. I tried gloves but gave that up as too complicated, then stuffed each pocket of the jersey with one type of item- blocks, gels, and endurolytes. The whole time, John Hirsch, doing great work as MC, was telling me about how big and getting bigger Margit's lead was, suggesting at one point it might be insurmountable.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Nutmegman Half-Ironman
I'll write my race report tomorrow, because I have a day off, but I wanted to get a few thoughts down, because wow, I had a decent race- and some fun.
This was a great race. Mandy did an awesome job of setting up a fair, challenging, well-marked course that was well supplied, well-staffed. The swag was the best I've seen in years. And John- anyone who plays not one but 10 NIN songs on request is a man among men. Awesome.
Backstory- Last year I finished third at what was at the time Connecticut's other half-ironman, Extrememan in Madison. This was a disappointment. With only 75 people in the race, I finished 3rd because I couldn't keep track of where I was on the race, and when, thinking I was fourth of fifth and started to melt down on the run, I didn't fight it. I was in second at the time and closing on a win.
Fast forward a year- Extrememan didn't survive, and Nutmegman was moved to a new, closer venue very close to some great babysitting- Margit's friend Helena. So we both signed up. And as I wrote yesterday, my goal was just to have a solid race and undo the damage I'd done last week at Hammerfest. I just wanted to have some fun on what I was sure would be a challenging course, be solid, swim well. This sport is hard work, but on a good day it's tremendously rewarding and a lot of fun.
Then I get my race number. 4. Bret Favre's number. I admit it. I felt a little pressure there. And I slept like it.
New race goal- sleep like I sleep before IMLP 2006 (7 hours straight through). Not 2 hours. Maybe 3. Felt like 0.
And the end result. As John pointed out as I was finishing, they called it right. I finished 4th. I earned the number, maybe even deserved the number. And hey, a number is just that. Meaningless. It's how you race. Today's was good.
This was a great race. Mandy did an awesome job of setting up a fair, challenging, well-marked course that was well supplied, well-staffed. The swag was the best I've seen in years. And John- anyone who plays not one but 10 NIN songs on request is a man among men. Awesome.
Backstory- Last year I finished third at what was at the time Connecticut's other half-ironman, Extrememan in Madison. This was a disappointment. With only 75 people in the race, I finished 3rd because I couldn't keep track of where I was on the race, and when, thinking I was fourth of fifth and started to melt down on the run, I didn't fight it. I was in second at the time and closing on a win.
Fast forward a year- Extrememan didn't survive, and Nutmegman was moved to a new, closer venue very close to some great babysitting- Margit's friend Helena. So we both signed up. And as I wrote yesterday, my goal was just to have a solid race and undo the damage I'd done last week at Hammerfest. I just wanted to have some fun on what I was sure would be a challenging course, be solid, swim well. This sport is hard work, but on a good day it's tremendously rewarding and a lot of fun.
Then I get my race number. 4. Bret Favre's number. I admit it. I felt a little pressure there. And I slept like it.
New race goal- sleep like I sleep before IMLP 2006 (7 hours straight through). Not 2 hours. Maybe 3. Felt like 0.
And the end result. As John pointed out as I was finishing, they called it right. I finished 4th. I earned the number, maybe even deserved the number. And hey, a number is just that. Meaningless. It's how you race. Today's was good.
Sunday, August 03, 2008
Sometimes there's Only the Journey
Yesterday, we packed up the car and headed to Block Island for the aptly named Block Island Triathlon.
There will be no race report.
We took the high speed ferry over. Note: if you are not sure whether to take the high-speed ferry, try it. We definitely think it's worth the extra cost. By 11:40 when we got there, it was sunny, but hazy, and very hot and humid. The sky was already a little bit iffy, but it was decent walking around weather. We headed around behind the main street to a nice restaurant with an open patio, but we sat under the closed part because we didn't want Ian to get sunburned-my son, not Ian Ray, who was planning to race.
I ran across the street after we ordered to get some syn lube and spray on sunscreen for Ian, then sat down and at about half my lunch. it was around 12:30, three hours to race time and in that uncomfortable zone for eating. When we were done eating we went back to the BI Sports Shop- they had some cool board shorts I was not quite willing to pay for because I didn't get any secondary approval on them). One of the other racers from CT said 'We're going to get some rain today' and I must have made a pretty dour face because he clapped me on the back and said 'It'll be all right.'
These were not prophetic words.
By the time we started walking down to the race area, it was bleak- dark clouds, but not too low, and no thunder. We ran into Jay's wife Deb on the side of the road and she and Margit were talking. I was shielding Ian, who was in front of me in a stroller. I did eventually start to get a little anxious about getting down to the start area because traditionally the transition area is about 1/3 the size it ought to be, which is a flaw in the area, not the design of the race. However, when I got there they'd used orange plastic snow fence to block out the area and they weren't going to let us in until 2 PM. I lubed the bike, tested it, did a really short run, and then registration opened. That went well, I saw John Hirsch, Peter Daly, and a few others, including Ken Platt, who was doing the timing.
I did a second run and headed for the beach. Ian and Margit were there playing in the water. I took some pictures and then got into my wetsuit and started my swim warm-up. As came out I saw- trouble. Big grey nasty trouble. Low hanging clouds headed right at us. I was talking with a pair of islands who had 'never seen clouds like that'. I asked them if they ever got up to the mountains and they said 'no.' To me, the clouds were bad but not 'really bad'. They were just low. It was the clouds coming in over the large Inn to the south.
It started to rain and while we were debating pulling the umbrella and taking it back and then I did one of those stupid things that demonstrate both my agility and my ability to disconnect my brain from my my body.
One of these umbrellas was headed straight for the water- the wind had wicked up something fierce and caught it. These are big umbrellas with long sturdy poles and a thick canvas top. It was going end over end. I ran at an angle towards the water because I did not want to be speared and managed to get to it umbrella end forward and catch it. It was pushing me backwards, but fortunately I got an assist and someone came over and folded it down because I had nowhere to go.
Things got worse right up until race time. Then came the thunder and the lightening.
I went right to John Hirsch because a) he's about the most experienced person I knew there, b) he's got more Block Island cred than anyone else who was race (sorry other guys from the BI Sports Shop), and c) he's a smart guy. I looked at him and said 'He can't have the race like this'. John, who always smiles, smiled. 'I'm not his lawyer.' 'But it's crazy to start the race in the lightening.' 'Yes, it is.' 'So are you going to race if he does ?' 'Yes.'
That's the triathlete spirit. And that's what the race director Robbie was counting on. We were going to go. Thunder and lightening not withstanding...
The lifeguards had other ideas. They paddled their smart asses out of the water and forced the issue.
We ended up waiting an hour, during which it alternately poured and spritzed and finally we got the word we were going to try again at 4:30. By then the crowd had dwindled and we were looking at a single wave. I was talking to lifeguards as we headed down the beach and suggested they not even bother to get into the water. They paddled out and thirty seconds later some of the sickest lightening I'd ever seen struck in the air about two miles south.
That was it. the lifeguards came out, and the race was called.
I think given the tough logistic of the race and no hope of a reschedule, Robbie was in a tough spot so I'm not going to evaluate what he did. All I'll say is that Margit and Ian were troopers.
And when we got settled on the high-speed ferry ? The sun came out.
That's okay. We ended up at the Charlestown Seafood Festival ? Ever been to a Seafood festival ? Neither had I...
There will be no race report.
We took the high speed ferry over. Note: if you are not sure whether to take the high-speed ferry, try it. We definitely think it's worth the extra cost. By 11:40 when we got there, it was sunny, but hazy, and very hot and humid. The sky was already a little bit iffy, but it was decent walking around weather. We headed around behind the main street to a nice restaurant with an open patio, but we sat under the closed part because we didn't want Ian to get sunburned-my son, not Ian Ray, who was planning to race.
I ran across the street after we ordered to get some syn lube and spray on sunscreen for Ian, then sat down and at about half my lunch. it was around 12:30, three hours to race time and in that uncomfortable zone for eating. When we were done eating we went back to the BI Sports Shop- they had some cool board shorts I was not quite willing to pay for because I didn't get any secondary approval on them). One of the other racers from CT said 'We're going to get some rain today' and I must have made a pretty dour face because he clapped me on the back and said 'It'll be all right.'
These were not prophetic words.
By the time we started walking down to the race area, it was bleak- dark clouds, but not too low, and no thunder. We ran into Jay's wife Deb on the side of the road and she and Margit were talking. I was shielding Ian, who was in front of me in a stroller. I did eventually start to get a little anxious about getting down to the start area because traditionally the transition area is about 1/3 the size it ought to be, which is a flaw in the area, not the design of the race. However, when I got there they'd used orange plastic snow fence to block out the area and they weren't going to let us in until 2 PM. I lubed the bike, tested it, did a really short run, and then registration opened. That went well, I saw John Hirsch, Peter Daly, and a few others, including Ken Platt, who was doing the timing.
I did a second run and headed for the beach. Ian and Margit were there playing in the water. I took some pictures and then got into my wetsuit and started my swim warm-up. As came out I saw- trouble. Big grey nasty trouble. Low hanging clouds headed right at us. I was talking with a pair of islands who had 'never seen clouds like that'. I asked them if they ever got up to the mountains and they said 'no.' To me, the clouds were bad but not 'really bad'. They were just low. It was the clouds coming in over the large Inn to the south.
It started to rain and while we were debating pulling the umbrella and taking it back and then I did one of those stupid things that demonstrate both my agility and my ability to disconnect my brain from my my body.
One of these umbrellas was headed straight for the water- the wind had wicked up something fierce and caught it. These are big umbrellas with long sturdy poles and a thick canvas top. It was going end over end. I ran at an angle towards the water because I did not want to be speared and managed to get to it umbrella end forward and catch it. It was pushing me backwards, but fortunately I got an assist and someone came over and folded it down because I had nowhere to go.
Things got worse right up until race time. Then came the thunder and the lightening.
I went right to John Hirsch because a) he's about the most experienced person I knew there, b) he's got more Block Island cred than anyone else who was race (sorry other guys from the BI Sports Shop), and c) he's a smart guy. I looked at him and said 'He can't have the race like this'. John, who always smiles, smiled. 'I'm not his lawyer.' 'But it's crazy to start the race in the lightening.' 'Yes, it is.' 'So are you going to race if he does ?' 'Yes.'
That's the triathlete spirit. And that's what the race director Robbie was counting on. We were going to go. Thunder and lightening not withstanding...
The lifeguards had other ideas. They paddled their smart asses out of the water and forced the issue.
We ended up waiting an hour, during which it alternately poured and spritzed and finally we got the word we were going to try again at 4:30. By then the crowd had dwindled and we were looking at a single wave. I was talking to lifeguards as we headed down the beach and suggested they not even bother to get into the water. They paddled out and thirty seconds later some of the sickest lightening I'd ever seen struck in the air about two miles south.
That was it. the lifeguards came out, and the race was called.
I think given the tough logistic of the race and no hope of a reschedule, Robbie was in a tough spot so I'm not going to evaluate what he did. All I'll say is that Margit and Ian were troopers.
And when we got settled on the high-speed ferry ? The sun came out.
That's okay. We ended up at the Charlestown Seafood Festival ? Ever been to a Seafood festival ? Neither had I...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)