Tuesday, September 3, 2013

HyVee Olympic Distance Triathlon Race Report — Sept. 1, 2013

HyVee Olympic Distance Triathlon

Quick and dirty:

  • 2:30 time felt pretty good, all things considered
  • 4th in AG in the non-qualifying race (out of 71)
  • Swim was very positive (12th in AG)
  • Bike power was low, but speed worked out ok (21.1 mph, 8th in AG)
  • Run was slower than I'd like, but appropriate for my fitness (just under 45 min, 3rd in AG)

Background

After this season's "double" of the Kansas HIM and the Grandma's marathon, which ended June 22, it took me about 4 weeks to get my legs back.  Those were two great races, but doing them so close and the latter being a marathon meant that I had a solid month that I had to recover.  By the time my legs were starting to come around, we had a heat wave, and then extensive travel to support the kids in some of their activities.  The result was that I had 6-7 weeks of very light training (except swimming, which I kept up) followed by 2-3 weeks of irregular quality training.  Ultimately, I decided that the best way to finish my season was to just go out and have fun and not worry about another "big" event.  I decided just to keep up a general triathlon training sequence and "race my way into shape".  I did a couple of sprint races with the kids, and then decided to do this race about two weeks before it was held.  I went in with only the expectations of having a good time and hoping for a good swim and "the best" elsewhere.  I had not done an Olympic distance race for three years!

The weather for the week or two before the race was very hot; many days were record highs.  It became plain that there would be no wetsuits in the swim.  I was prepared for that, though I had gotten a little tired of swimming at one point and kind of bummed that I couldn't "crutch swim" with the buoy, knowing I had this race coming.

Saturday, Cynthia and I spent the morning with the twins doing the Ironkids race.  They both did very, very well. It was great.  The only bummer was sitting around for a long time for awards in the heat, though Cynthia was kind enough to let me and Timothy go hide in the car for an hour between the race and the awards.  After we were done, I did my check in duty, and we got home in the late afternoon.

I went to bed early Saturday night, because you always have to get up insanely early for HyVee.

Prerace

I woke up at 3:30 am and got out the door by 4:05.  I got to the venue just before 5:00.  In contrast to some other people, I didn't face any traffic problems.  However, I arrived in the middle of a thunderstorm.  I ran into Gary Eyles (a good soccer friend/coach who was volunteering) in the parking area, who told me that we were being told to stay in our cars.  I stayed there until about 6:00 and headed over to transition.  Given the delay, I wouldn't be racing until 9:00 or so.  I was in one of the last groups of the last series of age groups, since I was in "the people's race", i.e., the non-qualifying HyVee race.

I have to say this about this race:  there were more than enough porta-potties and more than enough volunteers.  It was the best staffed race I've been at for a long time, and that includes full price Ironman races.  Congrats to these guys.

Prep in transition was routine.  I decided to trust my newfound confidence in using banded shoes and running barefoot like in a sprint.  The area was quite crowded near me, so I put my helmet on the ground, not on the bike, but it was pretty easy to spot where my bike was, so I was happy with that.

About 7:15, it was time to go.  I knew I still had a long wait, so I was bummed to be leaving my glasses behind, but at least I had my super-goggles.  But no one wants to wear those for two hours straight....

Everyone walked around the "lake" to the swim start area.  I watched the pro wave go off to make sure I understood the swim route.  It wan't that complicated, but given my history of getting off course once in a while, I wanted to make sure.  After that, I went out to the water and did some warm up.  I felt pretty good, and was pleased with that.

Getting out of the water, I noticed that it was breezy.  In fact, it was windy enough to be cold when wet, even though it was warming up rapidly.  That turned out to be an indication of things to come.

We waited around so long for our turn that the pro race ended well before I was even getting all that close  for my turn to go.  At least the announcer guy kept us up to date!  He did a nice job.

Swim

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/369065093

The swim start for the non qualifying race was a time trial in groups of three instead of pure waves.  They said this was faster, and I have no reason to doubt them.  They said it would keep the bike route less crowded.  My bike experience was not crowded, but I'm not sure it would have been either way.  Anyway, it was a bit of a different experience.

A few minutes before it was going to be my turn, the announcer guy pointed out someone who actually ran from the beach start into the water and noted that you could save a few seconds if you did that.  When it was my turn, I was in the middle of the three.  They said "go" and by the time I hit the timing start pad, I was already in the closest thing to full sprint I could get to.  I never felt the presence of those other two guys again.  I'm sure I only "saved" a few seconds by doing this, but it felt good and gave me a little boost.  I probably looked a little silly in that I wasn't very elegant diving into the water from a full sprint...it was more like a belly flop, but I got going.

My swim felt solid.  I didn't go crazy, but I kept a good effort going.  Sighting was pretty easy with the crowd and relatively high sun.  I was going about 12 right arm strokes between looks most of the time.  (Yes, I counted.)  Only once did I go notably crooked, but it didn't hurt me much because I caught it quickly.  I was in full open water mode with my big arm swing recovery instead of  pretty, high elbows, but I felt like I was catching and pulling well.

After the first 90 degree right turn of the swim, I noted that the water was a little choppy.  It wasn't too bad, but I noticed, after reversing direction, the chop was obviously coming from the other direction...so it wasn't just my imagination.  It made you wonder a little about the wind, but I didn't think much about it.  I was really trying to focus.  Losing my concentration is a weakness of mine on the swim; I sometimes let my mind wander too much, and this results in lower intensity or something else stupid (like getting off course?).  I caught myself letting my legs sink a few times, but I think I did a pretty good job overall.

Am I the only one, though, who thinks these swims go on forever, even if I like swimming?

On the whole, I was more aware of passing people than I was of being passed; that was a good psychological factor, too.  But I also knew that I should be competitive with the "waves" that were ahead of me...it wasn't like I was catching the 25 year old men.

I got out of the swim a few seconds behind a guy in my AG who made a better turn than me at the last buoy.  That kind of annoyed me.  But he was a "transition jogger" and I ran by.  Small victories. 

Transition was not entirely smooth.  I was wearing a skin suit over my race kit whose zipper is designed to just come apart trivially once you start it.  However, I had noticed it wasn't doing that very well the last couple times I wore it.  This time, it failed.  I got it partly unzipped and it was not jammed, but it just wouldn't unzip by the natural pulling motion.  In frustration after messing with it almost all the way to my bike, I finally pulled hard and the suit tore as I pulled it off.  Grrrrrrrrrr.  But at least I got it off.

Bike

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/369065100

I ran my bike out and was pleased again to be running past people on the way out of T1.  This is a small thing, but it validated my swim.  My HR was down where it should be, not crazy high so I had to jog.  This was another mental boost. I got on the bike smoothly and got moving.  I put my shoes on one at a time as I've learned to do. (I know that sounds silly, but it was a key notion in me figuring this out...there's no rush!)

I felt good.  I had good posture, and I felt like I was moving pretty well.  But it just wasn't translating to power numbers I liked.  I had hoped I'd be at least 190 W...maybe 200 W for stretches.  That would be lower than my "in shape" numbers, but it wasn't happening consistently.   My overall NP was only a ghastly 171 W.  Nonetheless, I was slowly moving up through the field.  I was passed by a few younger guys and one guy in my age group who looked like an überbiker, based on his body type and equipment.  The wind was pretty obvious by now.  There were enough turns that I never figured out what the predominant direction was.  Instead, I focused on doing my next-best fast-strategy..which was just to get as small on my bike as I could.

There were lots of people around, and I was generally moving up, but I didn't have much of a sense of how the AG competition was going because I didn't see too many people.  I think I passed a couple.  It's an odd result of having a better swim this year that I don't sense my AG as much on the bike.

In the end, I am utterly mystified by how I biked 21.1 mph for 70 min with a 171 NP in moderately heavy wind, but I guess it just shows you that a good fit and being a little canny can rescue you from disaster.

One final thing I became aware of was that my 28 oz of fluid was not quite enough.  It left me thirsty.  I was aware that I should probably grab more water than I usually do at the beginning of the run.  I figured it must be getting hot, but I'm pretty bad at figuring out the temperature while cycling.

Run

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/369065108

Coming into T2, I wasn't quite aware how low my bike power was, but I knew that I had gone relatively fast...not crazy super fast, but fast enough to be happy about it.  So I remained in a good mood.  Again, I ran through a reasonable number of people in T2.  It's free speed, people.  At the end of the race, your transition times count too!

Almost immediately out of T2 there was an aid station. I ended up taking 4 or 5 "cups" on that first stop without breaking stride and downing almost all of them.  That was probably a good thing, even if it was a bit excessive.  Because I was aware that I had been thirsty, which I interpreted also as a calorie issue, I committed to getting some Gatorade (or whatever it was) at basically every stop.

My run went smoothly, but it started getting harder and harder.  The first couple miles were at 7:10 or so, where I probably should be going 7:00 or faster.  And, instead of getting faster, I got slower.  Miles 5 and 6 (especially) were pretty hard.  I started feeling a blister on my left foot, which I knew wasn't going to get any better, but tried to ignore it.  Not very successfully.  I'm not especially proud of the mile that preceded the last half-mile stretch under the arches.  It was a bad stretch mentally.  I had been moving up through the crowd consistently on the run, and I should have been telling myself that I only had 1.5 miles left and I needed to scoop up as many as I could, but instead I was just satisfied to keep my relative pace in the face of discomfort.  In retrospect, this was a combination of heat and fitness, but I still could have run that mile better. Mile 6 was 7:32.  Ugh.

But, when I turned the corner under the arches, I got a second (or at least last) wind.  My form picked up and I knew it was going to be all good.  I even had a little sprint race for the last 100 m with a guy who turned out to be in my AG.  I won.  Oddly, though, no one finished within a minute of my time on either the fast or slow side...so all that sprinting for each of us was kind of meaningless for the result because of the TT start.  But it's a race, ain't it.  :-)

Post race, I figured out that I finished in 2:30 and felt pretty good.  They had great ice baths and that was a huge plus.  Unlike my last Hy Vee race, I'd recommend this experience to anyone. I still wish there was a way to avoid the super-early transition, but it's not a huge problem if they run the rest of the race this well.  I was near the end of the race, and there was still plenty of water and plenty of people at the volunteer stands.  I know that's not always the case.

Post Race

I took Monday off, and then went for an hour "generic reasonably hard ride" on Tuesday.  Power was 197 W NP...26 W higher than the race!  It was cooler, which may have contributed.  Without the aero wheels and the laser focus on posture, my average speed was exactly the same — 21.1 mph.  But it still makes me wonder what might have been.

A short brick run followed:  mile 1 7:27, mile 2 6:25.  Woulda coulda shoulda.

Ultimately, despite a bit of grousing, I'm very happy with this race.  I did it knowing I was only modestly prepared, and I had a PR swim and decent enough results elsewhere.  As usual, my run was my best leg compared to the AG, but the gap between run and swim dropped.  I'm never going to be a great swimmer, but I'm pleased that I've improved a bit this last year or so.  Amazing what a bit of good coaching and some consistent work will do.  (Thanks Tim and Mike.)  And a pair of magic goggles. 

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Grandma's Marathon 2013 Race Report

Summary: 


  • 3:14:41 (7:26 ave pace)
  • negative split (1:38:10, 1:36:31)
  • 30th of 374 in AG
  • 499/5613 overall
  • PR by 2 min
  • Weather low 50s, some rain in the last few miles. 
  • Wind neutral or favorable…not much of a factor. 
  • Course is lightly undulating to flat with one notable hill around mi 22. 
  • http://connect.garmin.com/activity/332617767

Prolog


This marathon was prepared for in what can only be described as an unorthodox way. During the winter, I kept up a weekly 12-15 mile run. My A-race for the first half of the year was the KS 70.3, 13 days before the marathon. During the HIM build-up, I adjusted my weekly long runs so they would be more conducive to Marathon training, but didn’t otherwise adjust my running volume and even dropped a few short runs in favor of being able to do the long one. (The long runs did affect the way I did my bike training, but not significantly on the volume side.) Weekly running volumes were actually very modest, mostly close to 30 miles per week and not more than 35. The last long run was May 23 (20 mi), so as to go into the HIM a bit more rested and be able to recover.

Because of the relationship of the two races, it is important to note that the HIM went well. I had a PR on the course by 10 min out of 4 tries. A full report is at http://wsjinames.blogspot.com/2013/06/kansas-703-2013-race-report.html. The only other notable point is that I did not turn myself inside out for the last mile or two of the run at KS. I ran it hard – very hard, actually – but not as if there was someone within 30 seconds of me that was between me and the podium. ☺

Managing the two weeks in between the races was then the biggest thing on my mind. With some good advice from Patrick McCrann, modulated by the realities of my schedule and facilities availability, the time was managed thusly:

Week 1: Monday - off; Tuesday - light swim for active recovery; Wed - water running for about 45 min after swim warmup; Thu - Good strong swim; Fri: - More water running, a bit harder/longer; Sat - 2:15 very easy bike ride (IF 0.62, TSS 85); Sun off.

Week 2: Monday – Short morning swim and ~4 mi run in evening with some 0.2-0.3 mi TP pickups; Tuesday – 50 min swim in morning and 40 min steady run in evening; Wednesday short morning swim followed immediately by ~3.5 mi very easy run; Thursday – short swim; Friday off; Saturday Race.

By about Friday of week 1, I was no longer sore, but was still obviously fatigued. I did so much swimming in order to keep up my aerobic engine, with minimal stress on the legs. The three runs in week 2 were all pretty tough. The first one felt good to get going again, but was work. The second, steady state run was worryingly tiring on the legs, and the last one was done intentionally early in order to get every last hour of recovery. (I had hoped it would feel better and give me more confidence.) A more detailed discussion of this management is here: http://wsjinames.blogspot.com/2013/06/racing-on-quick-turnaround-him-to.html.

Prerace 


Friday, I was unable to leave work until early afternoon. As per my usual habit, I had eaten a lot in the morning and a substantial lunch. It is a 6+ hour drive from Ames to Duluth. Road construction and Friday rush our traffic in the Twin Cities delayed me considerably, and another mishap around registration and hotel check in delayed me further. By now, it was 9 pm and I hadn’t eaten much of anything since noon. This felt like a bad idea. I didn’t know what to do, since I wanted very little in my GI tract in the morning. I ad libbed and ate (of all things) a Dairy Queen ice cream…hoping that the calories would be super easy to digest, no fiber, etc etc. I am not recommending this procedure to anyone else, but it worked out ok. ☺

Wake up Saturday morning was 4 am. I took my allergy pill and drank a Naked Smoothie. A second Naked Smoothie and a small breakfast bar went down over the next 90 min or so.

The weather broke in our favor. It was around 50 ˚F and would remain relatively dry for a few hours. Getting the bus was uneventful, and of course I was excited. The race has a warm clothes drop off right at the start, so I was able to wear my soccer sweats until shortly before the race. Trash bags did the rest of the job.

The Race 


Having raced a half marathon at 90 min, and my HIM half-marathon at 96 min, I believed that a 3:15 pace was about as aggressive as was reasonable for me to attempt, given my recovery from the HIM. With that low of a running volume, additionally I probably wasn’t going to go as fast as a 90 min half might predict (ca. 3:10).

I had decided to be a bit aggressive about race nutrition; the last thing I needed was to bonk. Therefore, I carried 3 gels with me, which I would consume in the first 15 miles, getting sports drink at the other aid stations, which were every two miles up to that point. Gels were available on course at mile 17.

There was a 3:15 pace group at the race. I chatted with the Pace Leader about his strategy. He had done the race several times before, and said he planned to run two miles at pretty close to 8:00 pace, then go to the 7:27 we needed, then speed up from miles 10-20, and bring the race at pace. This was close enough to my preferred race strategy that I decided to run with them. I knew that if I broke down, I could almost certainly finish the race with 8:30 miles, so I would make it under the 3:25 BQ time. I didn’t think there was any chance of breaking down before mile 16-17.

I believe thoroughly that the Pacer was sincere in describing his tactic, but it didn’t quite go the way he planned. Our first mile was, indeed, a bit under 8:00. Whether group inertia or Pacer error, we immediately jumped to pretty close to the target overall pace. However, we kept running about 7:30s. A mile by mile split table is given below. My Garmin splits are a little short compared to race time because the race was relatively crowded and I could make no effort to take tangents — I believe by about 1.0-1.2%, based on how far off it was by about mile 20. Additionally, hit the wrong button at the beginning of the race and missed about the first 2 minutes. (I reset the autolap at mile 1.)

For the first several miles, I ran practically shoulder to shoulder with the pacer, and was much chattier than I usually am. I knew how I should feel in the race, and I began a light concern about mile 9, where I began to feel the familiar twinge in the quads that becomes worse as a marathon goes on. I thought this was far too early. It was nothing awful, but I knew it wasn’t going to get better. Nonetheless, I was doing well, and I just resolved to carry on.

At miles 10-11, I was surprised that the pace did not pick up. We did pick up for a bit, but we seemed to lose momentum. Again, I am not sure if this was a group dynamic or not. I knew I was not concerned about the time of 3:15 particularly, but others were and were asking when we were going to make up the difference. The Pacer said we would at the 13-20 range.

At the half-way mark, I mentally disconnected from the Pacer. Although as it turned out I would never be all that far from him the rest of the way, I was feeling my legs more than I knew I should, and I knew I had to bear down. Perhaps the talk of the 3:15 of some of the other runners also affected me, and I decided that I needed to actually be a little more aggressive about pace soon, because speeding up a lot in the last 5K didn’t feel like it was going to be a good idea.

I allowed myself to drift ahead of the Pacer. Miles 14-16 reflect that on my mile-to-mile pace chart. Mile 17 was one of my two hardest and the pace is slower. I had quickly become more aware of my legs and I really had to shift my focus to the mechanics of my running. It was about doing it from my head and keeping the knee drive good and straight. By this point, I had fallen mostly silent. I began the “how much left” countdown, focusing very hard now on getting from one aid station to the next. (They were now every mile, and a little easier to latch on to than the mile markers.) I rebounded for a couple of miles, learning to just live with the distress of my legs.

Miles 20-21 were again very difficult. I thought I was running almost as fast as I could, even though I was losing time to the 7:27 average I was now so focused on.

Somewhere toward the end of this period, the Pacer caught up with me again. The only significant hill was in mile 22 (and really, it’s not that bad). I give him all the credit in the world for barking at his crowd (with me now back with it) proper directions about form and getting up this incline strongly. The group as a whole did well over this hill and its gentler follow-up, but I knew he was still a little behind the 3:15 pace that meant so much to the people trying to BQ at it.

The momentum of the good mile going uphill carried through mile 23. At this point I was running two conversations in my head at the same time: my own internal dialog, and quite separately the conversations the Pacer was having with other people.

We shortly reached the 5K-to-go mark. Up to this point I had kept my HR below or at threshold, though it had been drifting up. From here on out, I could manage whatever it had to be. The last 5K is net downhill, and a cool rain had begun. Even though I had struggled before, I was seeing that I was, on the whole, moving up through the field, if very slowly. I also realized that there was no way I was going to stop or walk an aid station because I doubted I could get going again!

For this last 22 minutes, it was a matter of taking the run out of my legs and into my head. When I was running through my legs, I would struggle. When I could get it up to my head, I would go faster. Perhaps this is hard to see on the Garmin trace, but I am convinced of it from my on-site glances. The Pacer was still in my vicinity, as was a fairly good sized remaining group, but it was pretty clearly a parallel individual thing now, not the group run it had been for the first half. The Pacer was working hard to encourage anyone who was falling behind.

Mile 25 felt like it was being run at threshold pace at the end of a long training run, and although it wasn’t that fast, it was at that Heart Rate. At the 25 mile marker I tried to speed up with my legs. I knew I would be around 3:15 flat, but I was pretty determined by now to make it. Without the absolute time on my watch, I didn’t know exactly where I was…just that it was close. I tried desperately to go faster but could not…until (I suspect) I took the race away from my legs again and back up to my head and thought about some hard training runs. It clicked, and I found some pace for about the last half mile. It doesn’t look like much on my mile to mile chart, but it was there.

 The race supplied a great split chart, which I also include here. I think that the 25 mile pad was a little misplace, making the last 1.2 miles too long, but who knows. The more interesting thing is the pass vs pass by column. For the last 10 miles, I maintained a ratio of about 6 people passed per person that passed me, and that’s very rewarding for a marathon for me. The half-way split is negative by 99 seconds. Given how I finished not feeing like there was much left, I am pleased with the pacing decisions I made.

And now I get to recover with less of a sword of Damocles hanging over me!



Mile
Pace (min/mile)
From Garmin
1*
7:52
2
7:29
3
7:24
4
7:26
5
7:25
6
7:20
7
7:20
8
7:26
9
7:25
10
7:13
11
7:31
12
7:28
13
7:17
14
7:13
15
7:20
16
7:16
17
7:27
18
7:23
19
7:11
20
7:31
21
7:28
22
7:20
23
7:26
24
7:19
25
7:03
26
7:09
27**
6:52 (0.4 Mi)
* Started about 2 minutes 10 seconds into the race.
**About 0.4 miles due to accumulated error in the Garmin (or, more likely, me running too far by not cutting the tangents)


Location
Race Time
Time of Day
Pace Between
Overall Place
Division Place
Sex Place
Age Graded Place
Passed / Passed By
Time
3:14:41
11:02:30
7:22
499/5613
30/374
439/3271
439/5613
19/3
25M
3:05:51
10:53:39
7:12
516/5595
31/371
453/3260
420/5595
38/5
23.1M
2:52:12
10:40:00
7:27
548/5607
32/374
484/3270
454/5607
56/10
19.3M
2:23:56
10:11:44
7:29
603/5609
33/374
531/3270
497/5609
48/4
16.2M
2:00:47
9:48:35
7:18
648/5607
38/374
570/3269
532/5607
42/1
13.1M
1:38:10
9:25:58
7:28
701/5610
44/374
616/3269
579/5610
59/15
10K
46:48
8:34:37
7:32
761/5610
54/374
663/3270
677/5610
139/114
ChipStart
0:41
7:47:49

743/5613
58/374
646/3271
646/5613

GunStart
00:00
7:47:08