A new theme. Fun. Race day was actually fun. And why shouldn't it have been? I wasn't there to win the race on business. I wanted to enjoy my first foray into the iron-distance. This doesn't mean the race was "play video games with friends" style fun, it was more of a focused, enjoy what my body is able to do after 6 months of training fun. I decided I'd try to let all the fear and self-doubt that had been dwelling be a tool to force me to pace myself, to consume proper nutrition, to hydrate properly, and to wear the right clothes. So I didn't bonk or be 10 hours from the finish line and feeling miserable. I also figured, if I felt good, I could always run faster at the end. But my goal was to finish.
T0:
More or less previously described ad nauseum. I was fortunate to have the experience from the big training day to reassure myself my breakfast and preparation plans were solid. I dressed, prepared, and drove to the race site. Set up the T1 and T2 areas, dropped off my special needs bags, chatted it up with a few other first time iron-distancers, donned my wetsuit, and waddled over to the lake. The warm up swim was freezing, but not the worst I'd had, so the ice cream headache and numb toes didn't bother me too much. I'd also managed to find another TNT suit donning triathlete, Ron, friend of Sean and Lisa, and coach. We briefly chatted about the day.
Swim (2.4 miles):
This would mean 4 loops of the course. The race started before I'd realized it! Whelp, off I went. I told myself to focus on keeping my forearms vertical right after the catch (start of the stroke) and pace myself a bit more than I did for the Scott Tinley's 1.5 mile swim. The first two laps were chaotic as we started the same time the half iron distance triathletes did. So there were the usual zig-zagging swimmers right in front, hands clonking me in the head, and idiots stopping to float right in front of me. Par for the course. As the way out was in shallow waters, a sizable current could be felt. Near the turnaround buoy I was able to just let myself float into the turn. Whee! After each lap I exited the water, ran around some cones, high-fived the race director, said hey to Sean and Lisa, and jumped back in. It was smooth swimming after the half-ers finished for the last two laps. I told myself to mentally prepare for T1 the way out for the last lap, and just enjoy the swim the way back.
T1:
Not too different from a usual T1, just a lot slower and more methodical. I decided to wear an extra thermal shirt on top of my jersey due to air temperatures in the 40s and still being wet from the swim. Caught up with my Dad briefly and told him I'd see him in, what, 7-8 hours? Hah!
Bike (112 miles):
3 laps of the full course. Time for the "Keep my heart rate in Zone 2, or about 130-140 bpm" game. The first few miles were fun. Ever so slightly downhill, so I was able to stay in about a 20 mph groove. This slowed down as the course flattened, but things were going smoothly so far. I kept an eye out for Clemens wondering if I'd see him. There was nothing too spectacular about the course itself, just a residential area with an occasional school and property full of barking dogs. The backdrop of desert mountains made the scenery enjoyable, though. I hit the full course lap turnaround and headed back to transition. I tried to mentally mark how each section felt and what my speed and exertion levels were. One lap down, was averaging around 16.5 mph. Hit all my nutrition markers. Sweet. There was a mild climb back to transition, but no big deal. It also meant I'd get that nice downhill burst again on the way out. I did, and got cheered on by Sean and Lisa out for my second lap.
Hit the turnaround point again and got encouragement from a race volunteer who told me I was half way done with the bike! Shortly after the turnaround, I realized a cyclist was riding closely behind me. Then I realized he was drafting. Wow. He'd back off as we neared the aid station or when a car drove by. Fortunately, after about 5 or 10 miles he seemed to just completely drop back. After the second turn on the way back, I noticed a pretty strong crosswind forming. The trees were swaying and some random trash was blowing around. The wind was coming from the West, and sure enough, the next turn was West and directly into the wind. Yikes, the crosswind became a nasty headwind. I got in full aero position and figured I'd just keep the heart rate in check and not push through too hard. It was an annoying stretch, but not devastating. I estimate my speed dropped to around 9 mph through the gusts. Although, I would later find out a fellow participant fell off his bike into a ditch after a particularly strong gust! I survived and headed out for lap 3. It felt great when that headwind became a tailwind!
I only stopped once on the bike; I performed some minor bodily functions near the turnaround for the third lap. At this point I had begun to feel the length of the day catching up. When I re-mounted, I encountered the familiar "starting to bonk" feeling. Crap. And I still had a solid 20 or so miles and then the run. I figured my nutrition was right on schedule, so maybe I was in need of hydration. I quickly scarfed down a full bottle of HEED and one of water. The weirdest thing was that I instantly felt it work and my energy came back. That was the scariest moment of the race and I feel pretty lucky hydrating fixed it pretty quickly. As I reached the turnaround, I told myself to prepare for T2 and the run. Then, after the turnaround, I tried to enjoy the way back. The wind had apparently grown in strength to become a sandstorm and moved South. So for lap 3 I hit the nasty headwind on the FIRST turn West. Man, back to trying to be patient. I was worried it would be that way the WHOLE return ride. But, it wasn't. It mellowed out for the second West stretch. I briefly chatted with another rider, so the time went by quickly. Before I knew it, it was dismount time!
T2: Again very simple transition. Donned a few more pieces of clothing and I was ready. Caught up with my Dad again who was concerned my eyes were bloodshot. I figured that must have been from the sandstorm. My Dad had just returned from a hike, so he was in good spirits. I told him I might need to walk the whole marathon, so I gave him an estimate of about 7 and a half hours!
Run (26.2 miles): But I wasn't feeling THAT bad. My mind was just occupied with the worst run legs I'd had. My first triathlon, the Wildflower Olympic course, when I was shocked by how tired my legs were. The beach run for Alcatraz. And most recently the dehydrating, hilly long course run at Wildflower earlier this year that induced vomiting around mile 1. And since I'd never run the iron distance marathon, I was fearing the worst. This was compounded by only having run 18 miles in training, whereas training in other distances allow you to run the entire distance. My strategy was to leave transition relatively quickly, after verifying I had all run needs, then walk the first 10 minutes to 1 mile. I figured, if I could handle that walking pace at around 16 minute miles, I could convince myself finishing was doable and fall back on that. I grabbed a head lamp as it was twilight and headed out.
Surprise, I felt fine. By mile 2 I turned on the 15 minute run/5 minute walk plan. Lisa and Sean ran with me for a few minutes and I gave Sean a delusional camera interview. I still felt fine after the walking portion so I picked the pace up to a 25 minute run/5 minute walk. I continued this pace, along with a few minute break after consuming a GU, for pretty much the rest of the run. I found a zone, and it did feel like the training runs. I was more or less ecstatic about that. I headed out for the second lap and near the final turnaround saw a car pulling nearby. It turned out to be T.C. and his wife Sally, who had also decided to support the race. Pretty sweet. No sign of my Dad though.
Lisa and Sean found me, too, and Lisa gave me a bag of sugary goodies to refuel with. She told me to keep focusing on moving forwards, questioned where I had come up with my 25 run/5 minute walk plan, and most importantly made me think about the finishing photo. I was feeling good on the way back for the second lap! Stoked to see Sean, Lisa, T.C., and Sally out there. Pretty sure I was going to finish. So I upped the pace a bit. Just a bit. And I skipped a few walk breaks towards the last 2 miles. And there, lo and behold, was my Dad walking on the course. He found me and was surprised I was on the last lap, as I'd end up finishing a solid 2 plus hours ahead of my estimate. He ran me in, and by about 9:35pm I'd finished!
T3: The finish scene was surreal. The sun had entirely set and the finish chute was illuminated by blindingly bright lights. I was extremely exhausted and insanely wired simultaneously. Think downing 20 straight Red Bull Vodka drinks. I didn't even want to sit or put warmer clothes on. Crazy. Awesome. I introduced my Dad to the TNT/TBS crew. I was lucky, also, my Dad had had the foresight to pack my truck with all my gear so I just needed to jump in and return to the hotel. I made it back, and then probably slept about 2 hours the whole night.
The next three or so days were filled with probably my favorite feeling: an exhausted satisfaction. I mentioned the race was fun, but I was worn out afterwards. I couldn't bend my knees, walk more than 5 minutes without getting exhausted, and struggled to down my only meal of a Jamba Juice the first day. Finally, the process was over. I used the little energy I could muster up to drive through Joshua Tree park on the return trip, whilst being the U2 dork I am and blasting the album. Then, back to the real world and Mountain View. Sigh. I'm indebted to those that cheered for me. It was a LONG, arduous, at times incredibly lonely process, and the taper period was brutal, but the tradeoff was a fun race and feeling on top of the world for a few days. I THINK the direction I want to head now is back to a more balanced lifestyle of more moderate exercise and being much more social. But who knows, I have plenty of places to improve in the iron-distance. And I am bitten by the bug.
Finally, I caught a picture of myself on Facebook taken by Sean as I finished. I was clad in dark black clothes, donning a bright head lamp, and my face was covered with the dirt and bike grease from the day. I looked like a coal miner! I should have had the prescience to pose in a Blue Steel Zoolander manner.
T0:
More or less previously described ad nauseum. I was fortunate to have the experience from the big training day to reassure myself my breakfast and preparation plans were solid. I dressed, prepared, and drove to the race site. Set up the T1 and T2 areas, dropped off my special needs bags, chatted it up with a few other first time iron-distancers, donned my wetsuit, and waddled over to the lake. The warm up swim was freezing, but not the worst I'd had, so the ice cream headache and numb toes didn't bother me too much. I'd also managed to find another TNT suit donning triathlete, Ron, friend of Sean and Lisa, and coach. We briefly chatted about the day.
Swim (2.4 miles):
This would mean 4 loops of the course. The race started before I'd realized it! Whelp, off I went. I told myself to focus on keeping my forearms vertical right after the catch (start of the stroke) and pace myself a bit more than I did for the Scott Tinley's 1.5 mile swim. The first two laps were chaotic as we started the same time the half iron distance triathletes did. So there were the usual zig-zagging swimmers right in front, hands clonking me in the head, and idiots stopping to float right in front of me. Par for the course. As the way out was in shallow waters, a sizable current could be felt. Near the turnaround buoy I was able to just let myself float into the turn. Whee! After each lap I exited the water, ran around some cones, high-fived the race director, said hey to Sean and Lisa, and jumped back in. It was smooth swimming after the half-ers finished for the last two laps. I told myself to mentally prepare for T1 the way out for the last lap, and just enjoy the swim the way back.
T1:
Not too different from a usual T1, just a lot slower and more methodical. I decided to wear an extra thermal shirt on top of my jersey due to air temperatures in the 40s and still being wet from the swim. Caught up with my Dad briefly and told him I'd see him in, what, 7-8 hours? Hah!
Bike (112 miles):
3 laps of the full course. Time for the "Keep my heart rate in Zone 2, or about 130-140 bpm" game. The first few miles were fun. Ever so slightly downhill, so I was able to stay in about a 20 mph groove. This slowed down as the course flattened, but things were going smoothly so far. I kept an eye out for Clemens wondering if I'd see him. There was nothing too spectacular about the course itself, just a residential area with an occasional school and property full of barking dogs. The backdrop of desert mountains made the scenery enjoyable, though. I hit the full course lap turnaround and headed back to transition. I tried to mentally mark how each section felt and what my speed and exertion levels were. One lap down, was averaging around 16.5 mph. Hit all my nutrition markers. Sweet. There was a mild climb back to transition, but no big deal. It also meant I'd get that nice downhill burst again on the way out. I did, and got cheered on by Sean and Lisa out for my second lap.
Hit the turnaround point again and got encouragement from a race volunteer who told me I was half way done with the bike! Shortly after the turnaround, I realized a cyclist was riding closely behind me. Then I realized he was drafting. Wow. He'd back off as we neared the aid station or when a car drove by. Fortunately, after about 5 or 10 miles he seemed to just completely drop back. After the second turn on the way back, I noticed a pretty strong crosswind forming. The trees were swaying and some random trash was blowing around. The wind was coming from the West, and sure enough, the next turn was West and directly into the wind. Yikes, the crosswind became a nasty headwind. I got in full aero position and figured I'd just keep the heart rate in check and not push through too hard. It was an annoying stretch, but not devastating. I estimate my speed dropped to around 9 mph through the gusts. Although, I would later find out a fellow participant fell off his bike into a ditch after a particularly strong gust! I survived and headed out for lap 3. It felt great when that headwind became a tailwind!
I only stopped once on the bike; I performed some minor bodily functions near the turnaround for the third lap. At this point I had begun to feel the length of the day catching up. When I re-mounted, I encountered the familiar "starting to bonk" feeling. Crap. And I still had a solid 20 or so miles and then the run. I figured my nutrition was right on schedule, so maybe I was in need of hydration. I quickly scarfed down a full bottle of HEED and one of water. The weirdest thing was that I instantly felt it work and my energy came back. That was the scariest moment of the race and I feel pretty lucky hydrating fixed it pretty quickly. As I reached the turnaround, I told myself to prepare for T2 and the run. Then, after the turnaround, I tried to enjoy the way back. The wind had apparently grown in strength to become a sandstorm and moved South. So for lap 3 I hit the nasty headwind on the FIRST turn West. Man, back to trying to be patient. I was worried it would be that way the WHOLE return ride. But, it wasn't. It mellowed out for the second West stretch. I briefly chatted with another rider, so the time went by quickly. Before I knew it, it was dismount time!
T2: Again very simple transition. Donned a few more pieces of clothing and I was ready. Caught up with my Dad again who was concerned my eyes were bloodshot. I figured that must have been from the sandstorm. My Dad had just returned from a hike, so he was in good spirits. I told him I might need to walk the whole marathon, so I gave him an estimate of about 7 and a half hours!
Run (26.2 miles): But I wasn't feeling THAT bad. My mind was just occupied with the worst run legs I'd had. My first triathlon, the Wildflower Olympic course, when I was shocked by how tired my legs were. The beach run for Alcatraz. And most recently the dehydrating, hilly long course run at Wildflower earlier this year that induced vomiting around mile 1. And since I'd never run the iron distance marathon, I was fearing the worst. This was compounded by only having run 18 miles in training, whereas training in other distances allow you to run the entire distance. My strategy was to leave transition relatively quickly, after verifying I had all run needs, then walk the first 10 minutes to 1 mile. I figured, if I could handle that walking pace at around 16 minute miles, I could convince myself finishing was doable and fall back on that. I grabbed a head lamp as it was twilight and headed out.
Surprise, I felt fine. By mile 2 I turned on the 15 minute run/5 minute walk plan. Lisa and Sean ran with me for a few minutes and I gave Sean a delusional camera interview. I still felt fine after the walking portion so I picked the pace up to a 25 minute run/5 minute walk. I continued this pace, along with a few minute break after consuming a GU, for pretty much the rest of the run. I found a zone, and it did feel like the training runs. I was more or less ecstatic about that. I headed out for the second lap and near the final turnaround saw a car pulling nearby. It turned out to be T.C. and his wife Sally, who had also decided to support the race. Pretty sweet. No sign of my Dad though.
Lisa and Sean found me, too, and Lisa gave me a bag of sugary goodies to refuel with. She told me to keep focusing on moving forwards, questioned where I had come up with my 25 run/5 minute walk plan, and most importantly made me think about the finishing photo. I was feeling good on the way back for the second lap! Stoked to see Sean, Lisa, T.C., and Sally out there. Pretty sure I was going to finish. So I upped the pace a bit. Just a bit. And I skipped a few walk breaks towards the last 2 miles. And there, lo and behold, was my Dad walking on the course. He found me and was surprised I was on the last lap, as I'd end up finishing a solid 2 plus hours ahead of my estimate. He ran me in, and by about 9:35pm I'd finished!
T3: The finish scene was surreal. The sun had entirely set and the finish chute was illuminated by blindingly bright lights. I was extremely exhausted and insanely wired simultaneously. Think downing 20 straight Red Bull Vodka drinks. I didn't even want to sit or put warmer clothes on. Crazy. Awesome. I introduced my Dad to the TNT/TBS crew. I was lucky, also, my Dad had had the foresight to pack my truck with all my gear so I just needed to jump in and return to the hotel. I made it back, and then probably slept about 2 hours the whole night.
The next three or so days were filled with probably my favorite feeling: an exhausted satisfaction. I mentioned the race was fun, but I was worn out afterwards. I couldn't bend my knees, walk more than 5 minutes without getting exhausted, and struggled to down my only meal of a Jamba Juice the first day. Finally, the process was over. I used the little energy I could muster up to drive through Joshua Tree park on the return trip, whilst being the U2 dork I am and blasting the album. Then, back to the real world and Mountain View. Sigh. I'm indebted to those that cheered for me. It was a LONG, arduous, at times incredibly lonely process, and the taper period was brutal, but the tradeoff was a fun race and feeling on top of the world for a few days. I THINK the direction I want to head now is back to a more balanced lifestyle of more moderate exercise and being much more social. But who knows, I have plenty of places to improve in the iron-distance. And I am bitten by the bug.
Finally, I caught a picture of myself on Facebook taken by Sean as I finished. I was clad in dark black clothes, donning a bright head lamp, and my face was covered with the dirt and bike grease from the day. I looked like a coal miner! I should have had the prescience to pose in a Blue Steel Zoolander manner.
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